“St. Patrick's, three; and a collar day!” repeated Sam, solemnly.
“Collars, and curs to wear them,” growled out Tony, under his breath.
“Ay, a collar day!” and he raised his eyes with a half devotional expression at these imposing words.
“The Duke will open Parliament in person?” asked Fagan, as a kind of suggestive hint, which chanced to turn the talk.
“So we mean, sir,—we have always done so. Procession to form in the Upper Castle Yard at twelve; battle-axes in full dress; Ulster in his tabard!”
“Yes, yes; I have seen it over and over again,” sighed Fagan, wearily.
“Sounds of trumpet in the court—flourish!”
“Flourish, indeed!” sighed Tony; “it's the only thing does flourish in poor Ireland. Tell me, Sam, has the Court been brilliant lately?”
“We gave two dinners last week—plain dress—bags and swords!”
“And who were the company?”