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Updated: June 20, 2025
"O, Joe," said Mr. O'Connor suddenly. "Give us that thing you wrote do you remember? Have you got it on you?" "O, ay!" said Mr. Henchy. "Give us that. Did you ever hear that. Crofton? Listen to this now: splendid thing." "Go on," said Mr. O'Connor. "Fire away, Joe." Mr.
"He's not a bad sort," said Mr. Henchy, "only Fanning has such a loan of him. He means well, you know, in his own tinpot way." The boy came back with the corkscrew. The old man opened three bottles and was handing back the corkscrew when Mr. Henchy said to the boy: "Would you like a drink, boy?" "If you please, sir," said the boy.
He's a prominent and respected citizen, said I, 'and a Poor Law Guardian, and he doesn't belong to any party, good, bad, or indifferent. That's the way to talk to 'em." "And what about the address to the King?" said Mr. Lyons, after drinking and smacking his lips. "Listen to me," said Mr. Henchy. "What we want in thus country, as I said to old Ward, is capital.
"I don't know," said Mr. O'Connor dubiously, as he took out cigarette-papers and tobacco. "I think Joe Hynes is a straight man. He's a clever chap, too, with the pen. Do you remember that thing he wrote...?" "Some of these hillsiders and fenians are a bit too clever if ask me," said Mr. Henchy. "Do you know what my private and candid opinion is about some of those little jokers?
The old man handed him another bottle and he placed it on the hob. "Sit down, Joe," said Mr. O'Connor, "we're just talking about the Chief." "Ay, ay!" said Mr. Henchy. Mr. Hynes sat on the side of the table near Mr. Lyons but said nothing. "There's one of them, anyhow," said Mr. Henchy, "that didn't renege him. By God, I'll say for you, Joe! No, by God, you stuck to him like a man!"
"Wall, wall, ma," he said, "it don't make no difference whether it's a wind-storm or a rain-storm that I know on, but a tempest it's brewin', sartin sure. I remember once, we'd had a spell o' weather jest like this, and it begun to gether up in the same way. It was in the same latitude, teacher, same latitude. I was off cruisin' with Bob Henchy whew! That ar' was a singin' gale!
Leave the basket there." The boy went out and Mr. Henchy began to rub his hands cheerfully, saying: "Ah, well, he's not so bad after all. He's as good as his word, anyhow." "There's no tumblers," said the old man. "O, don't let that trouble you, Jack," said Mr. Henchy. "Many's the good man before now drank out of the bottle." "Anyway, it's better than nothing," said Mr. O'Connor.
"Why should we welcome the King of England? Didn't Parnell himself..." "Parnell," said Mr. Henchy, "is dead. Now, here's the way I look at it. Here's this chap come to the throne after his old mother keeping him out of it till the man was grey. He's a man of the world, and he means well by us. He's a jolly fine decent fellow, if you ask me, and no damn nonsense about him.
Henchy returned with the candlestick and put it on the table. He sat down again at the fire. There was silence for a few moments. "Tell me, John," said Mr. O'Connor, lighting his cigarette with another pasteboard card. "Hm?" "What he is exactly?" "Ask me an easier one," said Mr. Henchy. "Fanning and himself seem to me very thick. They're often in Kavanagh's together. Is he a priest at all?"
"I asked the little shoeboy, but he said: 'Oh, now, Mr. Henchy, when I see work going on properly I won't forget you, you may be sure. Mean little tinker! 'Usha, how could he be anything else?" "What did I tell you, Mat?" said Mr. Hynes. "Tricky Dicky Tierney." "O, he's as tricky as they make 'em," said Mr. Henchy. "He hasn't got those little pigs' eyes for nothing. Blast his soul!
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