THE FIGHTING IRISH
O'Casey says he thinks that Mr. Ervine hates the Irish. Of course he does. There never was a more virulent case of Eireophobia. or that reason it was hardly fair to ask Mr. Ervine to review any book itten by an Irishman, as it would be difficult for him to do so without bias. Whenever I read three lines written by Mr. Ervine on any topic touching Ireland, I am, taken back to the days of my happy childhood in Ulster. To the shivering fascination with which I used to watch the Orange- men on July 12th, arrayed in all their glory, parading the streets of the town beating hell out of .the Pope and all papishes on their big drums. As the day wore on, and they were continually refreshed with Irish whiskey d Guinness' stout, they leapt-ever more wildly in the air. The blood requently oozed from their tortured hands, and the din they made was eafening—thrilling, even to little papishes. After twelve hours or more this exercise there was very little malice left in them. In my family ere was a Protestant manservant who never left the place the year ound except on the 12th. On that day my brothers would rise bright d early, help Billie into his orange sash with its flamboyant picture f an extremely handsome King William, sword held high, astride his kite charger, riding gaily and with no fear of drowning across the Boyne Water. As soon as the sash was donned, Billie automatically traightened his back, bent by years of hard toil, put on his speckless "wler hat and sallied forth to show the world what he thought of g James and all papishes. He would return late at night, weary and ebriated, and was tenderly helped to bed by the sons of his papish ployer. The orange sash and bowler hat were carefully put away in eir box for another twelve months.
Thinking on these things, I have often wished I could buy a nice big m, send it to Mr. Ervine and let him work the poison out of his system by beating hell out of all Eireanns, atop of Honey Ditches. Mr. O'Casey, as he, too, lives in Devon and has no love for Irish papishes either, but judging by his plays ha., often a good sense of humour, might be persuaded to join Mr. Ervine. What fun for the Devonians.—Yours The Den, St. Leonards Road, Claygate, Surrey.
Previous page
