tribute from the representatives of the fair sex who were present in large numbers while, as it proceeded down the river, escorted by a flotilla of barges, the flags of the Ballast office and Custom House were dipped in salute as were also those of the electrical power station at the Pigeonhouse and the Poolbeg Light. Visszontl�t�sra, kedv�s bar�tom! Visszontl�t�sra! Gone but not forgotten.

Gob, the devil wouldn’t stop him till he got hold of the bloody tin anyhow and out with him and little Alf hanging on to his elbow and he shouting like a stuck pig, as good as any bloody play in the Queen’s royal theatre:

Where is he till I murder him?

And Ned and J. J. paralysed with the laughing.

Bloody wars, says I, I’ll be in for the last gospel.