I was just looking around to see who the happy thought would strike when be damned but in he comes again letting on to be in a hell of a hurry.

—­I was just round at the courthouse, says he, looking for you.  I hope I’m not ...

—­No, says Martin, we’re ready.

Courthouse my eye and your pockets hanging down with gold and silver.  Mean bloody scut.  Stand us a drink itself.  Devil a sweet fear!  There’s a jew for you!  All for number one.  Cute as a shithouse rat.  Hundred to five.

—­Don’t tell anyone, says the citizen,

—­Beg your pardon, says he.

—­Come on boys, says Martin, seeing it was looking blue.  Come along now.

—­Don’t tell anyone, says the citizen, letting a bawl out of him.  It’s a secret.

And the bloody dog woke up and let a growl.

—­Bye bye all, says Martin.

And he got them out as quick as he could, Jack Power and Crofton or whatever you call him and him in the middle of them letting on to be all at sea and up with them on the bloody jaunting car.

—–­Off with you, says

Martin to the jarvey.

The milkwhite dolphin tossed his mane and, rising in the golden poop the helmsman spread the bellying sail upon the wind and stood off forward with all sail set, the spinnaker to larboard.  A many comely nymphs drew nigh to starboard and to larboard and, clinging to the sides of the noble bark, they linked their shining forms as doth the cunning wheelwright when he fashions about the heart of his wheel the equidistant rays whereof each one is sister to another and he binds them all with an outer ring and giveth speed to the feet of men whenas they ride to a hosting or contend for the smile of ladies fair.  Even so did they come and set them, those willing nymphs, the undying sisters.  And they laughed, sporting in a circle of their foam:  and the bark clave the waves.

But begob I was just lowering the heel of the pint when I saw the citizen getting up to waddle to the door, puffing and blowing with the dropsy, and he cursing the curse of Cromwell on him, bell, book and candle in Irish, spitting and spatting out of him and Joe and little Alf round him like a leprechaun trying to peacify him.

—­Let me alone, says he.

And begob he got as far as the door and they holding him and he bawls out of him: 

—­Three cheers for Israel!

Arrah, sit down on the parliamentary side of your arse for Christ’ sake and don’t be making a public exhibition of yourself.  Jesus, there’s always some bloody clown or other kicking up a bloody murder about bloody nothing.  Gob, it’d turn the porter sour in your guts, so it would.

And all the ragamuffins and sluts of the nation round the door and Martin telling the jarvey to drive ahead and the citizen bawling and Alf and Joe at him to whisht and he on his high horse about the jews and the loafers calling for a speech and Jack Power trying to get him to sit down on the car and hold his bloody jaw and a loafer with a patch over his eye starts singing if the man in the moon was A jew, jew, jew and a slut shouts out of her: