at the time with equal accuracy
for most places where we had an Irish population. Every voter of ours
living in Rossendale had been visited. If he had removed from place to
place inside the district it was noted. If he had gone out of the
district he was communicated with, if possible through the medium of the
branch of his new location. We knew where to find them all, and it was
astonishing from what distant places men turned up to vote on the
election day, through the agency of the local branches of the places to
which the voters had gone.

In this Rossendale election I had two of the most capable lieutenants a
man need wish to have, Patrick Murphy and Daniel Boyle, both then
organisers of our League. Dan Boyle (now Alderman Boyle, M.P.) took the
Bacup end of the Division; Pat Murphy took Rawtenstall; and I made my
headquarters at Haslingden, for I had a _grah_ for the place, on
account of its connection with my old friend, Michael Davitt.

There can be no better test of a man's sterling qualities than the
opinions held of him by the friends of his youth. Several times I had
had occasion to visit Haslingden, the little factory town in North-East
Lancashire, where Martin Davitt, the father of Michael, and his family
lived when they came to this country after being evicted from their home
in Mayo. Here I met Mr. Cockcroft, the bookseller, who gave Michael
employment after he had lost his arm in the factory, and he and his
family bore the Irish lad in kindly remembrance. But it was among his
own people--those who had been the companions and friends of his
youth--that I found the greatest admiration for "Mick," as they
familiarly called him. I need scarcely say that they watched with pride
the noble career of one who had grown to manhood in their midst.

I was able to turn that feeling to good account on the occasion of this
Rossendale election. I asked the Liberal candidate, Mr. Maden, a young
and wealthy cotton spinner of Rossendale, who had given us satisfactory
pledges on Home Rule, to invite Michael Davitt's assistance. He did so.
I backed up the request by a personal appeal, which he never refused if
it lay in his power to do what I wished. He came, and words fail to
describe his loving and enthusiastic reception by his own people.

I have alluded to the perfect way in which the Irish Vote had been
organised. Michael Davitt came into our committee room one day, and it
was with intense pride he turned over the lea