next door to him. Though the Jews are supposed to hold what was
Crowley's stock-in-trade in abomination, the two old ladies--Mrs.
Crowley, who used to say she was of "Cork's own town and God's own
people," and Mrs. Hyman, who came from Cork, too, though, needless to
say, without a drop of Irish blood in her veins--were great cronies.

As a consequence, the Hymans were among the most eager of the spectators
to get the first glimpse of honest Thade Crowley as he walked in front
of his own particular lodge of the Hibernians. He was a portly,
well-built man, of ruddy complexion, and open, genial countenance. He
wore buckskin breeches, top boots, green tabinet double-breasted
waistcoat, bottle-green coat with brass buttons, and beaver hat. The
Crowleys were very popular in the neighbourhood, as they never had but a
kindly word for everybody.

When I was a small boy, about 9 or 10 years old, I often listened with
delight to Mrs. Crowley, who had a fluent tongue, expatiating on the
glories of her native city--

By the pleasant waters of the River Lee.

and I have heard her exclaiming, I at the time believing it most
implicitly:

"Sin, is it? Sure. I never heard of sin till I came to Liverpool;
there's no sin in Cor-r-k!"

And she rattled the "r" with a strong rising inflexion, greatly
impressing me with the high character of Ireland and of Cork in
particular.