It is delightfully sleepy,
swarming with little shops with some little things to sell; but where
are the buyers? If a real rush of business were to come to Clones I
would tremble for the consequences, for it is not used to it.
I was quartered in the most loyal corner of all the loyal places in
Clones. Every wall on which my eyes rested proclaimed that fact. Here
was framed all the mysterious symbols of Orangeism, which are very like
the mysterious symbols of masonry to ignorant eyes. There was King
William in scarlet, holding out his arm to some one in crimson, who
informed the world that "a bullet from the Irish came that grazed King
William's arm." On the next wall is the battle of the Boyne, with some
pithy lines under.
"And now the well-contested strand successive columns gain,
While backward James' yielding band is borne across the plain;
In vain the sword that Erin draws and life away doth fling,
O worthy of a better cause and of a nobler king!
But many a gallant spirit there retreats across the plain,
Who, change but kings, would gladly dare that battlefield again."
I read that verse, like it, transcribe it, and turn to study the
handsome face of Johnston of Ballykillbeg, who is elevated into the
saint's place alongside of King William on many, many cottage walls,
when the hostess appears.
