the robber as of the
middle age, and soon after describes him as a young man. Now, how could
a young man be of the middle age?"

"It seems a stwange inaccuwacy," lisped Furlong. "But poets sometimes
pwesume on the pwivelege they have of doing what they please with their
hewoes."

"Quite true, sir. And talking of heroes, I hope the Knights of St.
Patrick are well--I do admire them so much!--'t is so interesting to see
their banners and helmets hanging up in St. Patrick's Cathedral, that
venerable pile!--with the loud peal of the organ--sublime--isn't
it?--the banners almost tremble in the vibration of the air to the loud
swell of the 'A-a-a-men!'--the very banners seem to wave 'Amen!' Oh,
that swell is so fine!--I think they are fond of swells in the choir;
they have a good effect, and some of the young men are so good
looking!--and the little boys, too--I suppose they are choristers'
children?"

The old lady made a halt, and Furlong filled up the pause by declaring,
"He weally couldn't say."

"I hope you admire the service at St. Patrick's?" continued the old
lady.

"Ye-s, I think St. Paytwick's a vewy amusing place of wo'ship."

"Amusing," said the old lady, half offended. "Inspiring, you mean; not
that I think the sermon interesting, but the anthem!--oh, the anthem,
it is so fine!--and the old banners, those are my delight--the dear
banners covered with dust!"

"Oh, as far as that goes," said Furlong, "they have impwoved the
cathedwal vewy much, fo' they white-washed it inside, and put up
_noo_ banners."

"Whitewash and new banners!" exclaimed the indignant dowager; "the
Goths! to remove an atom of the romantic dust! I would not have let a
house-maid into the place for the world! But they have left the anthem,
I hope?"

"Oh, yes; the anthem is continued, but with a small diffewence:--they
used to sing the anthem befo' the se'mon, but the people used to go
away afte' the anthem and neve' waited fo' the se'mon, and the bishop,
who is pwoud of his pweaching, orde'ed the anthem to be postponed till
afte' the se'mon."

"Oh, yes," said the old lady, "I remember, now, hearing of that, and
some of the wags in Dublin saying the bishop was jealous of old
Spray;[16] and didn't somebody write something called 'Pulpit versus
Organloft'?"

[16] One of the finest tenors of the last century.

"I cawn't say."

"Well, I am glad you like the cathedral, sir; but I wish they had not
dusted the banners; I used to