“Get along home now, every one of yous,” he said.
“Get along out of that!” said Constable Moriarty.
In twos and threes, in little groups of ten and twelve, silently obedient, the crowd slunk away. The statue of General John Regan was left looking down upon an empty market place. So the last word is spoken in the pleasant drama of Irish life. The policeman speaks it. “Get along home out of that, every one of you.” So the curtain drops on our performances. In spite of our whirling words we bow to, in the end, the voice of authority.
THE END