Ivy Day in the Committee Room

Old Jack raked the cinders together with a piece of cardboard and spread them judiciously over the whitening…

“That’s better now, Mr O’Connor.”

Mr O’Connor, a grey-haired young man, whose face was disfigured by many blotches and pimples, had just brought…

“Did Mr Tierney say when he’d be back?” he asked in a husky falsetto.

“He didn’t say.”

Mr O’Connor put his cigarette into his mouth and began to search his pockets. He took out a…

“I’ll get you a match,” said the old man.

“Never mind, this’ll do,” said Mr O’Connor.

He selected one of the cards and read what was printed on it:

MUNICIPAL ELECTIONS

ROYAL EXCHANGE WARD

Mr Richard J. Tierney, P.L.G., respectfully solicits the favour of your vote and influence at the coming election…

Mr O’Connor had been engaged by Tierney’s agent to canvass one part of the ward but, as the…

Mr O’Connor tore a strip off the card and, lighting it, lit his cigarette. As he did so…

“Ah, yes,” he said, continuing, “it’s hard to know what way to bring up children. Now who’d think…

He replaced the cardboard wearily.

“Only I’m an old man now I’d change his tune for him. I’d take the stick to his…

“That’s what ruins children,” said Mr O’Connor.

“To be sure it is,” said the old man. “And little thanks you get for it, only impudence.…

“What age is he?” said Mr O’Connor.

“Nineteen,” said the old man.

“Why don’t you put him to something?”

“Sure, amn’t I never done at the drunken bowsy ever since he left school? ‘I won’t keep you,’…

Mr O’Connor shook his head in sympathy, and the old man fell silent, gazing into the fire. Someone…

“Hello! Is this a Freemasons’ meeting?”

“Who’s that?” said the old man.

“What are you doing in the dark?” asked a voice.

“Is that you, Hynes?” asked Mr O’Connor.

“Yes. What are you doing in the dark?” said Mr Hynes advancing into the light of the fire.

He was a tall, slender young man with a light brown moustache. Imminent little drops of rain hung…

“Well, Mat,” he said to Mr O’Connor, “how goes it?”

Mr O’Connor shook his head. The old man left the hearth and, after stumbling about the room returned…

Mr Hynes leaned against the mantelpiece and asked:

“Has he paid you yet?”

“Not yet,” said Mr O’Connor. “I hope to God he’ll not leave us in the lurch tonight.”

Mr Hynes laughed.

“O, he’ll pay you. Never fear,” he said.

“I hope he’ll look smart about it if he means business,” said Mr O’Connor.

“What do you think, Jack?” said Mr Hynes satirically to the old man.

The old man returned to his seat by the fire, saying:

“It isn’t but he has it, anyway. Not like the other tinker.”

“What other tinker?” said Mr Hynes.

“Colgan,” said the old man scornfully.

“It is because Colgan’s a working-man you say that? What’s the difference between a good honest bricklayer and…

“I think you’re right,” said Mr O’Connor.

“One man is a plain honest man with no hunker-sliding about him. He goes in to represent the…

“Of course, the working-classes should be represented,” said the old man.

“The working-man,” said Mr Hynes, “gets all kicks and no halfpence. But it’s labour produces everything. The working-man…

“How’s that?” said the old man.

“Don’t you know they want to present an address of welcome to Edward Rex if he comes here…

“Our man won’t vote for the address,” said Mr O’Connor. “He goes in on the Nationalist ticket.”

“Won’t he?” said Mr Hynes. “Wait till you see whether he will or not. I know him. Is…

“By God! perhaps you’re right, Joe,” said Mr O’Connor. “Anyway, I wish he’d turn up with the spondulics.”

The three men fell silent. The old man began to rake more cinders together. Mr Hynes took off…

“If this man was alive,” he said, pointing to the leaf, “we’d have no talk of an address…

“That’s true,” said Mr O’Connor.

“Musha, God be with them times!” said the old man. “There was some life in it then.”

The room was silent again. Then a bustling little man with a snuffling nose and very cold ears…

“No money, boys,” he said.

“Sit down here, Mr Henchy,” said the old man, offering him his chair.

“O, don’t stir, Jack, don’t stir,” said Mr Henchy.

He nodded curtly to Mr Hynes and sat down on the chair which the old man vacated.

“Did you serve Aungier Street?” he asked Mr O’Connor.

“Yes,” said Mr O’Connor, beginning to search his pockets for memoranda.

“Did you call on Grimes?”

“I did.”

“Well? How does he stand?”

“He wouldn’t promise. He said: ‘I won’t tell anyone what way I’m going to vote.’ But I think…

“Why so?”

“He asked me who the nominators were; and I told him. I mentioned Father Burke’s name. I think…

Mr Henchy began to snuffle and to rub his hands over the fire at a terrific speed. Then…

“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. “I asked the little shoeboy, but he said: ‘Oh,…

“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…

“But is that a fact?” asked Mr O’Connor.

“God, yes,” said Mr Henchy. “Did you never hear that? And the men used to go in on…

The old man returned with a few lumps of coal which he placed here and there on the…

“That’s a nice how-do-you-do,” said Mr O’Connor. “How does he expect us to work for him if he…

“I can’t help it,” said Mr Henchy. “I expect to find the bailiffs in the hall when I…

Mr Hynes laughed and, shoving himself away from the mantelpiece with the aid of his shoulders, made ready…

“It’ll be all right when King Eddie comes,” he said. “Well boys, I’m off for the present. See…

He went out of the room slowly. Neither Mr Henchy nor the old man said anything but, just…

“’Bye, Joe.”

Mr Henchy waited a few moments and then nodded in the direction of the door.

“Tell me,” he said across the fire, “what brings our friend in here? What does he want?”

“’Usha, poor Joe!” said Mr O’Connor, throwing the end of his cigarette into the fire, “he’s hard up,…

Mr Henchy snuffled vigorously and spat so copiously that he nearly put out the fire, which uttered a…

“To tell you my private and candid opinion,” he said, “I think he’s a man from the other…

“Ah, poor Joe is a decent skin,” said Mr O’Connor.

“His father was a decent respectable man,” Mr Henchy admitted. “Poor old Larry Hynes! Many a good turn…

“He doesn’t get a warm welcome from me when he comes,” said the old man. “Let him work…

“I don’t know,” said Mr O’Connor dubiously, as he took out cigarette-papers and tobacco. “I think Joe Hynes…

“Some of these hillsiders and fenians are a bit too clever if you ask me,” said Mr Henchy.…

“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....…

Mr O’Connor nodded.

“There’s a lineal descendant of Major Sirr for you if you like! O, the heart’s blood of a…

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. His black clothes were…

“O Father Keon!” said Mr Henchy, jumping up from his chair. “Is that you? Come in!”

“O, no, no, no!” said Father Keon quickly, pursing his lips as if he were addressing a child.

“Won’t you come in and sit down?”

“No, no, no!” said Father Keon, speaking in a discreet indulgent velvety voice. “Don’t let me disturb you…

“He’s round at the _Black Eagle_,” said Mr Henchy. “But won’t you come in and sit down a…

“No, no, thank you. It was just a little business matter,” said Father Keon. “Thank you, indeed.”

He retreated from the doorway and Mr Henchy, seizing one of the candlesticks, went to the door to…

“O, don’t trouble, I beg!”

“No, but the stairs is so dark.”

“No, no, I can see.... Thank you, indeed.”

“Are you right now?”

“All right, thanks.... Thanks.”

Mr Henchy returned with the candlestick and put it on the table. He sat down again at the…

“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…

“Mmmyes, I believe so.... I think he’s what you call a black sheep. We haven’t many of them,…

“And how does he knock it out?” asked Mr O’Connor.

“That’s another mystery.”

“Is he attached to any chapel or church or institution or——”

“No,” said Mr Henchy, “I think he’s travelling on his own account.... God forgive me,” he added, “I…

“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.…

“Why didn’t you remind him?” said Mr O’Connor.

“Well, I couldn’t go over while he was talking to Alderman Cowley. I just waited till I caught…

“There’s some deal on in that quarter,” said Mr O’Connor thoughtfully. “I saw the three of them hard…

“I think I know the little game they’re at,” said Mr Henchy. “You must owe the City Fathers…

Mr O’Connor laughed.

“So far as owing money goes....”

“Driving out of the Mansion House,” said Mr Henchy, “in all my vermin, with Jack here standing up…

“And make me your private secretary, John.”

“Yes. And I’ll make Father Keon my private chaplain. We’ll have a family party.”

“Faith, Mr Henchy,” said the old man, “you’d keep up better style than some of them. I was…

“What?” said Mr Henchy and Mr O’Connor.

“He told me: ‘What do you think of a Lord Mayor of Dublin sending out for a pound…

At this point there was a knock at the door, and a boy put in his head.

“What is it?” said the old man.

“From the _Black Eagle_,” said the boy, walking in sideways and depositing a basket on the floor with…

The old man helped the boy to transfer the bottles from the basket to the table and counted…

“Any bottles?”

“What bottles?” said the old man.

“Won’t you let us drink them first?” said Mr Henchy.

“I was told to ask for the bottles.”

“Come back tomorrow,” said the old man.

“Here, boy!” said Mr Henchy, “will you run over to O’Farrell’s and ask him to lend us a…

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…

“Anyway, it’s better than nothing,” said Mr O’Connor.

“He’s not a bad sort,” said Mr Henchy, “only Fanning has such a loan of him. He means…

The boy came back with the corkscrew. The old man opened three bottles and was handing back the…

“Would you like a drink, boy?”

“If you please, sir,” said the boy.

The old man opened another bottle grudgingly, and handed it to the boy.

“What age are you?” he asked.

“Seventeen,” said the boy.

As the old man said nothing further, the boy took the bottle and said: “Here’s my best respects,…

“That’s the way it begins,” said the old man.

“The thin edge of the wedge,” said Mr Henchy.

The old man distributed the three bottles which he had opened and the men drank from them simultaneously.…

“Well, I did a good day’s work today,” said Mr Henchy, after a pause.

“That so, John?”

“Yes. I got him one or two sure things in Dawson Street, Crofton and myself. Between ourselves, you…

Here two men entered the room. One of them was a very fat man whose blue serge clothes…

“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 Lyons, “and Crofton and I out in the cold…

“Why, blast your soul,” said Mr Henchy, “I’d get more votes in five minutes than you two’d get…

“Open two bottles of stout, Jack,” said Mr O’Connor.

“How can I?” said the old man, “when there’s no corkscrew?”

“Wait now, wait now!” said Mr Henchy, getting up quickly. “Did you ever see this little trick?”

He took two bottles from the table and, carrying them to the fire, put them on the hob.…

“Which is my bottle?” he asked.

“This lad,” said Mr Henchy.

Mr Crofton sat down on a box and looked fixedly at the other bottle on the hob. He…

In a few minutes an apologetic “Pok!” was heard as the cork flew out of Mr Lyons’ bottle.…

“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.…

“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 this country, as I said to old Ward,…

“But look here, John,” 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…

Mr Crofton nodded his head.

“But after all now,” said Mr Lyons argumentatively, “King Edward’s life, you know, is not the very....”

“Let bygones be bygones,” said Mr Henchy. “I admire the man personally. He’s just an ordinary knockabout like…

“That’s all very fine,” said Mr Lyons. “But look at the case of Parnell now.”

“In the name of God,” said Mr Henchy, “where’s the analogy between the two cases?”

“What I mean,” said Mr Lyons, “is we have our ideals. Why, now, would we welcome a man…

“This is Parnell’s anniversary,” said Mr O’Connor, “and don’t let us stir up any bad blood. We all…

Pok! The tardy cork flew out of Mr Crofton’s bottle. Mr Crofton got up from his box and…

“Our side of the house respects him, because he was a gentleman.”

“Right you are, Crofton!” said Mr Henchy fiercely. “He was the only man that could keep that bag…

Mr Hynes came in slowly.

“Open another bottle of stout, Jack,” said Mr Henchy. “O, I forgot there’s no corkscrew! Here, show me…

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,…

“O, Joe,” said Mr O’Connor suddenly. “Give us that thing you wrote—do you remember? Have you got it…

“O, ay!” said Mr Henchy. “Give us that. Did you ever hear that, Crofton? Listen to this now:…

“Go on,” said Mr O’Connor. “Fire away, Joe.”

Mr Hynes did not seem to remember at once the piece to which they were alluding but, after…

“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 DEATH OF PARNELL 6_th October_ 1891

He cleared his throat once or twice and then began to recite:

He is dead. Our Uncrowned King is dead. O, Erin, mourn with grief and woe For he lies…

He lies slain by the coward hounds He raised to glory from the mire; And Erin’s hopes and…

In palace, cabin or in cot The Irish heart where’er it be Is bowed with woe—for he is…

He would have had his Erin famed, The green flag gloriously unfurled, Her statesmen, bards and warriors raised…

He dreamed (alas, ’twas but a dream!) Of Liberty: but as he strove To clutch that idol, treachery…

Shame on the coward, caitiff hands That smote their Lord or with a kiss Betrayed him to the…

May everlasting shame consume The memory of those who tried To befoul and smear the exalted name Of…

He fell as fall the mighty ones, Nobly undaunted to the last, And death has now united him…

No sound of strife disturb his sleep! Calmly he rests: no human pain Or high ambition spurs him…

They had their way: they laid him low. But Erin, list, his spirit may Rise, like the Phœnix…

The day that brings us Freedom’s reign. And on that day may Erin well Pledge in the cup…

Mr Hynes sat down again on the table. When he had finished his recitation there was a silence…

Pok! The cork flew out of Mr Hynes’ bottle, but Mr Hynes remained sitting flushed and bareheaded on…

“Good man, Joe!” said Mr O’Connor, taking out his cigarette papers and pouch the better to hide his…

“What do you think of that, Crofton?” cried Mr Henchy. “Isn’t that fine? What?”

Mr Crofton said that it was a very fine piece of writing.