Two persons near by, conversing in low tones on the state of the
country, drew my attention to them. One was a sonsie good-wife with any
amount of bundles, the other a little old man with a face of almost
superhuman wisdom.

"The country will be saved mem, now; when the Coercion Bill has passed
the country will be saved," said the old man.

"There's a great deal too much fuss made about everything," remarked the
good-wife. "Look at that boy ten years old taken up, bless us all! for
whistling at a man."

"Did you take notice, mem, that the whistling was derisive, was
derisive, it was derisive. That is where it is, you see," said the old
man with a slow, sagacious roll of his head.

"I would not care what a wee boy could put into a whistle: it was
awfully childish for a man and a gentleman to take up just a wean for a
whistle."

"You see mem, they have to be strict and keep everything down. The
Government have ways of finding out things; they know all though, they
don't let on. There will be a bloody time, in my opinion."

Oh, the wisdom with which the old man shook his head as he said this,
adding in a penetrating whisper, "The times of '98 over again or worse."