ey
stop thinkin' about it altogether. We're too self-conscious. We haven't
enough pride an' we've too much conceit. That's the truth. You daren't
say a word of criticism about Ireland for fear you'd have the people
jumpin' down your throat--an' that's a sign of weakness, Henry. Do you
know why the English are as strong as they are? It's because they'll let
you criticise them as much as you like, an' never lose their temper with
you. The only time I ever knew them to be flabby and spineless was when
the Boer War was on ... an' they'd scream in your face if you didn't say
they were actin' like angels. They were only like that _then_, but we're
like it _all_ the time. The fools don't know that the best patriot is
the man that has the courage to own up when his country's in the
wrong!..."

Mr. Quinn suddenly sat up stiffly in his seat and gaped at his son for a
few moments.

"Begod, Henry," he said, "I'm preachin' to you!"

"Yes, father, you are," Henry replied. "But I don't mind. It's rather
interesting!"

But the force had gone out of Mr. Quinn. The thought that he had been
preaching a sermon, delivering a speech, filled him with self-reproach.

"I never meant to start off like that," he said. "I only meant to tell
you what was in my mind. You see, Henry, I love Ireland an' I want to
see her as fine as ever she was ... but she'll never be fine again 'til
she gets back her pride an' her self-respect. The English people have
stolen that from us ... yes, they have, Henry! I knew Arthur Balfour
when he was a young man ... I liked him too ... but I'll never forget
that it was him that turned us into a nation of cadgers. I'm not much of
a thinker, Henry, but the bit of brain I have'll be used for Ireland,
whatever happens. You've got more brains than I have, an' I'd like you
to use them for Ireland, too."

5

"This is the way I look at things," Mr. Quinn said later on. "The
British people are the best people in the world, an' the Irish people
are the best people in the British Empire, an' the Ulster people are the
best people in Ireland!" He glanced about him for a few moments as if he
were cogitating, and then he gave a chuckle and winked at his son. "An'
begod," he said, "I sometimes think I'm the best man in Ulster!" He
burst out laughing when he had finished. "Ah," he said, half to himself,
as he stroked his fine beard, "I'm the quare oul' cod, so I am!"

"All the same," he went on, speaking soberly, "I'm not co