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Updated: June 20, 2025
His face, shining with raindrops, had the appearance of damp yellow cheese save where two rosy spots indicated the cheekbones. He opened his very long mouth suddenly to express disappointment and at the same time opened wide his very bright blue eyes to express pleasure and surprise. "O Father Keon!" said Mr. Henchy, jumping up from his chair. "Is that you? Come in!"
"There's a lineal descendant of Major Sirr for you if you like! O, the heart's blood of a patriot! That's a fellow now that'd sell his country for fourpence ay and go down on his bended knees and thank the Almighty Christ he had a country to sell." There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" said Mr. Henchy. A person resembling a poor clergyman or a poor actor appeared in the doorway.
Couldn't he pay up like a man instead of: 'O, now, Mr. Henchy, I must speak to Mr. Fanning.... I've spent a lot of money'? Mean little schoolboy of hell! I suppose he forgets the time his little old father kept the hand-me-down shop in Mary's Lane." "But is that a fact?" asked Mr. O'Connor. "God, yes," said Mr. Henchy. "Did you never hear that?
Lyons jumped off the table, went to the fire, took his bottle and carried it back to the table. "I was just telling them, Crofton," said Mr. Henchy, "that we got a good few votes today." "Who did you get?" asked Mr. Lyons. "Well, I got Parkes for one, and I got Atkinson for two, and got Ward of Dawson Street. Fine old chap he is, too regular old toff, old Conservative!
I believe half of them are in the pay of the Castle." "There's no knowing," said the old man. "O, but I know it for a fact," said Mr. Henchy. "They're Castle hacks.... I don't say Hynes.... No, damn it, I think he's a stroke above that.... But there's a certain little nobleman with a cock-eye you know the patriot I'm alluding to?" Mr. O'Connor nodded.
We all respect him now that he's dead and gone even the Conservatives," he added, turning to Mr. Crofton. Pok! The tardy cork flew out of Mr. Crofton's bottle. Mr. Crofton got up from his box and went to the fire. As he returned with his capture he said in a deep voice: "Our side of the house respects him, because he was a gentleman." "Right you are, Crofton!" said Mr. Henchy fiercely.
Hynes did not seem to remember at once the piece to which they were alluding, but, after reflecting a while, he said: "O, that thing is it.... Sure, that's old now." "Out with it, man!" said Mr. O'Connor. "'Sh, 'sh," said Mr. Henchy. "Now, Joe!" Mr. Hynes hesitated a little longer. Then amid the silence he took off his hat, laid it on the table and stood up.
"He asked me who the nominators were; and I told him. I mentioned Father Burke's name. I think it'll be all right." Mr. Henchy began to snuffle and to rub his hands over the fire at a terrific speed. Then he said: "For the love of God, Jack, bring us a bit of coal. There must be some left." The old man went out of the room. "It's no go," said Mr. Henchy, shaking his head.
Henchy, "I think he's travelling on his own account.... God forgive me," he added, "I thought he was the dozen of stout." "Is there any chance of a drink itself?" asked Mr. O'Connor. "I'm dry too," said the old man. "I asked that little shoeboy three times," said Mr. Henchy, "would he send up a dozen of stout.
He wore a very high double collar and a wide-brimmed bowler hat. "Hello, Crofton!" said Mr. Henchy to the fat man. "Talk of the devil..." "Where did the boose come from?" asked the young man. "Did the cow calve?" "O, of course, Lyons spots the drink first thing!" said Mr. O'Connor, laughing. "Is that the way you chaps canvass," said Mr.
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