"And where are you going to get thim men?" asked the tireless Moriarty. "And, see here, they're not going to be all men, unless you smother the women. And, droppin' the puddin', for the sake of argument, and comin' to the question of bunnets, d'you think one woman is going to be content wid as good a bunnet as her next-door neighbour, and the same price? D'you think Mrs. Moriarty won't be sayin' to her husband, 'Mick, you blackguard, why don't you stir your stumps and make more money to buy me a hat and feather that'll squash Mrs. Mooney's?' And Mick, he'll say, 'Sure, Norah, how'm I to make more money when these Social chaps won't let me earn more'n five pound a week?' And what'll she say but 'Be hanged to Socialism, I want a blazin' big hat wid a feather twice as big as Mrs. Mooney's, and I'm goin' to get it.'"
"That's not the point at isha."
"Isha or not, you see here. You may plot and plan and collar your masther's money and pay it out all round to the likes of yourself, but it's the wimmen'll quare your pitch, for begob, a man may get rid of a masther, but he'll never get rid of a misthress as long as the world rowls, and wather runs. Tell me," said Moriarty, with his eyes examining Mr. Piper's legs critically and not complimentarily, "tell me now, are you wan of them chaps the masther spakes of who're always boo-hooin' about the souldiers and ba-haain' about the sailors and wishin' to live in pace and contintment, sittin' on your starns under fig-trees wid the figs droppin' into your open gobs?"
Mr. Piper explained that he was a peace party man.
"I thought you was," said Moriarty, still with his eyes fixed on his examinee's legs, "and faith, I'm almost converted meself to the cause whin I look at you. We had a man wanst, and he might ha' been your twin brother, and he came down to Cloyne, lecturin' on all thim things, and settin' up to contist the seat in Parli'mint wid ould Mr. Barrin'ton, of Inchkillin Haal. Ould Mr. Barrin'ton stud six-fut-four. He'd never missed a meet of the houn's for sixty years, 'cept whin he was lad up wid broken limbs or sittin' in Parli'mint. This chap called ould Mr. Barrin'ton his 'ponent, said he was wastin' the money of the people keepin' houn's and horses, and went on till wan day the bhoys got hold of him—and d'ye know what they did to him?"
"No."
"Faith, they headed him up in a barr'l, and rowled him into the river."
Moriarty, without another word, got up, left Mr. Piper to his meditations, and strode towards the kitchen.
"Where's the masther?" asked Moriarty of Norah.
"In the sittin'-room," replied Norah.