ounce of spare flesh, but they had sinews of iron. Hughey used to come
to our house with other neighbours every week to hear the "Nation" read,
and the songs in it sung to the accompaniment of Harry Starkey's or my
Uncle John's fiddle. The Hanlons were North of Ireland men, and Hughey
often used to proudly tell us that the O'Hanlons were the Ulster
standard-bearers.

At that time, besides the Amphitheatre, where during those years several
Irish demonstrations were held, a popular place for our gatherings was
the Adelphi Theatre (previously the "Queen's"), which was in somewhat
better standing then than afterwards, though it, too, has had within its
walls most of the Irish leaders of the last half century.

I remember one occasion in particular when O'Connell was, of course, the
hero of the day, which impressed itself upon my youthful mind the more
forcibly on account of the presence on the platform of Jack Langan--of
whom I have already spoken--a warm-hearted and generous supporter of the
great Dan, and the Cause of Repeal. Indeed, we boys regarded the Irish
champion boxer with the admiration we would have bestowed upon Finn
MacCool or some other of the ancient Fenians, could they have appeared
in bodily form amongst us.

Little we then thought that we should be welcoming on the same platform
the Fenians of our own days.

That meeting in the Adelphi has also been frequently brought back to my
mind since, because for a long time the "leading man" in the stock
company at that theatre was Edmond O'Rourke (stage name Falconer), a
sterling Nationalist, with whom I made a closer acquaintance in later
years.