t of old. His hair, short and wiry, stood up on
end. Section 4 looked at it.

"Your hair looks like furze in a fit," said Section 4.

"You're lookin' for one on the jor," said Bill closing and opening his
fist. "And I'll give yer one."

"Will yer? Two can play at that gyme!"

Goliath massive and monumental came along at that moment. He looked at
Bill.

"Looking for trouble, mate?" he asked.

"Section 4's shouting the odds, as usual," Bill replied.

"Come along to the Canal and have a bath; it will cool your (p. 223)
temper."

"Will it?" said Bill as he came along with us somewhat reluctantly
towards the Canal banks.

"What does shouting the odds mean?" I asked him.

"Chewin' the rag," he answered.

"And that means----"

"Kicking up a row and lettin' every one round you know," said Bill.
"That's what shoutin' the blurry odds means."

"What's the difference between shouting the odds and shouting the
blurry odds?" I asked.

"It's like this, Pat," Bill began to explain, a blush rising on his
cheeks. Bill often blushed. "Shoutin' the odds isn't strong enough,
but shoutin' the blurry odds has ginger in it. It makes a bloke listen
to you."

Stoner was sitting on the bank of La Bassee canal, his bare feet
touching the water, his body deep in a cluster of wild iris. I sat
down beside him and took off my boots.

I pulled a wild iris and explained to Stoner how in Donegal we made
boats from the iris and placed them by the brookside at night. When
we went to bed the fairies crossed the streams on the boats which (p. 224)
we made.

"Did they cross on the boats?" asked Stoner.

"Of course they did," I answered. "We never found a boat left in the
morning."

"The stream washed them away," said Stoner.

"You civilised abomination," I said and proceeded to fashion a boat,
when it was made I placed it on the stream and watched it circle round
on an eddy near the bank.

"Here's something," said Stoner, getting hold of a little frog with
his hand and placing it on the boat. For a moment the iris bark swayed
unsteadily, the frog's little glistening eyes wobbled in its head then
it dived in to the water, overturning the boat as it hopped off it.

An impudent-looking little boy with keen, inquisitive eyes, came along
the canal side wheeling a very big barrow on which was heaped a number
of large loaves. His coat a torn, ragged fringe, hung over the hips,
he wore a Balaclava helmet (thousands of which have