Michael was a divil of a man for pace-makin’, an’ riz more rows than all the county, for all that; for whin two dacent men had a word or two av a fair-day, maybe whin the drink was in them, an’ had forgot all about it, the next day ould Michael would come round to make it up, an’ wi’ him mindin’ them av what had passed, the row would begin worse than iver.
So, whin all was set well agoin’, an’ the committee met to call a gineral meetin’ av the Society, ould Michael he gets up an’ says what a pity it would be if the Society would be broke up wi’ politics or religion; an’ he proposed that they should show there was no ill-feelin’ on either side by holdin’ this giniral meetin’ in the Orange Hall, an’ the nixt in the United Irish League rooms. He named the Orange Hall first, he said, because he was a Nationalist himself, an’ a Home Ruler, an’ always would be.
There was one or two Orangemen beginnin’ to look mighty fiery at the tail-end av Michael’s speech, an’ there’s no tellin’ what would a’ happened if the chairman hadn’t whipped in an’ said that Michael’s was a very good idea, an’ he thought they couldn’t do betther than folly it up.
So, right enough, the first gineral meetin’ was held in the Ballygullion Orange Hall.
Iverything was very quiet an’ agreeable, except that some av the red-hot Nationalists kept talkin’ quare skellys at a flag in the corner wi’ King William on it, stickin’ a man in a green coat wi’ his sword.
But, as fortune would have it, little Billy av the Bog, the sthrongest wee Orangeman in Ulsther, comes in at half-time as dhrunk as a fiddler, sits down on a form an’ falls fast asleep. An’ there he snored for the most av half an hour, till near the end av the meetin’, whin the chairman was makin’ a speech, there was a bit av applause, an’ ap starts Billy all dazed. First he looked up an’ seen King William on the flag. Thin hearin’ the chairman’s voice, he gives a stamp wi’ his fut on the flure, an’ a “hear, hear,” wi’ a mortial bad hiccup between the “hears.” The wee man thought he was at a lodge-meetin’.
All av a sudden he sees ould Michael Murray, an’, beside him, Tammas McGorrian.
Wi’ that he lepps to his feet like a shot, dhrunk as he was, an’ hits the table a terrible lick wi’ his fist.
“Stap, brethren,” sez he, glarin’ round the room.
“Stap! There’s Papishes present.”