For this the typos and others propose to "boycott" the Committee and the
Reception and the Liberators from over the sea. From casual
conversations I gather that there is much more popular interest in the
release, on Wednesday, of Mr. T.D. Sullivan, ex-Lord Mayor, champion
swimmer, M.P., poet, and patriot. A Nationalist acquaintance of mine
tells me that in Tullamore Mr. Sullivan has been most prolific of
poetry. He has composed a song which I am afraid will hardly please my
Irish Nationalist friends in America:

"We are sons of Sister Isles,
Englishmen and Irishmen,
On our friendship Heaven smiles;
Tyrant's schemes and Tory wiles
Ne'er shall make us foes again."

There is to be a Drawing-Room, too, at the Castle on Wednesday night.
One would not unnaturally gather from the "tall talk" in Parliament and
the press that this conjuncture of a great popular demonstration in
favour of Irish nationality, with a display of Dublin fashion doing
homage to the alien despot, might be ominous of "bloody noses and
cracked crowns." Not a bit of it! I asked my jarvey, for instance, on an
outside car this afternoon, whether he expected a row to result from
these counter currents of the classes and the masses. "A row!" he
replied, looking around at me in amazement. "A row is it? and what for
would there be? Shure they'll be through with the procession in time to
see the carriages!"

Obviously he saw nothing in either show to offend anybody; though he
could clearly understand that an intelligent citizen might be vexed if
he found himself obliged to sacrifice one of them in order to fully