"Bloody end to thim!"
"To murther and evict us"—
"Lord help us!"
"An' collect taxes an' rint."
"Hell's blazes!"
Ten minutes after this conversation under my window Michael adroitly introduced the subject of postal profits in Ireland. I told him there was an ascertained loss of £50,000 a year, which the new Legislature would have to make up somehow. Michael bore the change with fortitude. The loss of forty millions plus fifty thousand would have upset many a man, but Michael only threw up his eyes and said very softly—
"Heavenly Fa-a-ther!"
Westport, June 6th.