The blond girl in Thornton’s bedded the wicker basket with rustling fibre. Blazes Boylan handed her the bottle swathed in pink tissue paper and a small jar. —Put these in first, will you? he said. —Yes, sir, the blond girl said. And the fruit on top. —That’ll do, game ball, Blazes Boylan said. She bestowed fat pears neatly, head by tail, and among them ripe shamefaced peaches.

And to the solemn court of Green street there came sir Frederick the Falconer. And he sat him there about the hour of five o’clock to administer the law of the brehons at the commission for all that and those parts to be holden in and for the county of the city of Dublin. And there sat with him the high sinhedrim of the twelve tribes of Iar, for every tribe one man, of the tribe of Patrick and of the tribe of Hugh and of the tribe of Owen and of the tribe of Conn and of the tribe of Oscar and of the tribe of Fergus and of the tribe of Finn and of the tribe of Dermot and of the tribe of Cormac and of the tribe of Kevin and of the tribe of Caolte and of the tribe of Ossian, there being in all twelve good men and true.

... Im glad I burned the half of those old Freemans and Photo Bits leaving things like that lying about hes getting very careless and threw the rest of them up in the W C I’ll get him to cut them tomorrow for me ...

He heard Joe Maas sing that one night. Ah, what M’Guckin! Yes. In his way. Choirboy style. Maas was the boy. Massboy. A lyrical tenor if you like. Never forget it. Never.

… taking it for granted he knew all about the old favourites, he mentioned par excellence Lionel’s air in Martha, M’appari, which, curiously enough, he had heard or overheard, to be more accurate, on yesterday, a privilege he keenly appreciated, from the lips of Stephen’s respected father, sung to perfection, a study of the number, in fact, which made all the others take a back seat. Friedrich Adolf Ferdinand, Freiherr von Flotow (27 April 1812 – 24 January 1883) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d94xPQo4U24

Children fighting for the scrapings of the pot. Want a souppot as big as the Phoenix park.

- Barney mavourneen's be it says I.

John O’Leary against Lear O’Johnny Image by "Ben Bay" (NLI).

Have you Weekly Freeman of 17 March? Right. Have you got that? [Weekly Freeman, March 1904, illustrated supplement]

Clever idea Saint Patrick the shamrock.

DAVY STEPHENS: Messenger of the Sacred Heart and Evening Telegraph with Saint Patrick’s Day supplement. Containing the new addresses of all the cuckolds in Dublin.

Vining held that the prince was a woman. Has no-one made him out to be an Irishman? Judge Barton, I believe, is searching for some clues. He swears (His Highness not His Lordship) by saint Patrick. Sir Dunbar Plunket Barton as caricatured by Spy (Leslie Ward) in Vanity Fair, April 1898.