Mr Hynes came in slowly.

`Open another bottle of stout, Jack,' said Mr Henchy. `O, I forgot there's no corkscrew! Here, show me one here and I'll put it at the fire.'

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!'

`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 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 seemed to be rehearsing the piece in his mind. After a rather long pause he announced:

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

He raised to glory from the