Ulysses
Achilles heel, which he explained to them about the vulner-
able point of Achilles, the Greek hero, a point his auditors
at once seized as he completely gripped their attention by
showing the tendon referred to on his boot. His advice to
every Irishman was: stay in the land of your birth and work
for Ireland and live for Ireland. Ireland, Parnell said, could
not spare a single one of her sons.
Silence all round marked the termination of his finale.
The impervious navigator heard these lurid tidings, undis-
mayed.
—Take a bit of doing, boss, retaliated that rough diamond
palpably a bit peeved in response to the foregoing truism.
To which cold douche referring to downfall and so on the
keeper concurred but nevertheless held to his main view.
—Who’s the best troops in the army? the grizzled old
veteran irately interrogated. And the best jumpers and rac-
ers? And the best admirals and generals we’ve got? Tell me
that.
—The Irish, for choice, retorted the cabby like Campbell,
facial blemishes apart.
—That’s right, the old tarpaulin corroborated. The Irish
catholic peasant. He’s the backbone of our empire. You
know Jem Mullins?
While allowing him his individual opinions as every-
man the keeper added he cared nothing for any empire,
ours or his, and considered no Irishman worthy of his salt
that served it. Then they began to have a few irascible words
when it waxed hotter, both, needless to say, appealing to the
listeners who followed the passage of arms with interest so