injustice toward Catholic emancipation. He loved to regale the little
group that encircled him by reciting from memory the great speech of
Robert Emmett from the dock, and excerpts from the classic speeches of the
leading Irish orators like Curran, Sheridan, and Fox.

While these discussions in the little store wended their uneasy way along,
a spark of humour was often injected into them by the delightful banter of
a rollicking, good-natured Irishman, a big two-fisted fellow, generous-
hearted and lovable, whom we affectionately called "Big Phil." I can see
him now, standing like a great pyramid in the midst of the little group,
every now and then throwing his head back in good-natured abandon,
recounting wild and fantastic tales about the fairies and banshees of the
Old Land from whence he had come. When his listeners would turn away, with
skepticism written all over their countenances, he would turn to me, whose
youthful enthusiasm made me an easy victim upon which to work his magic
spell in the stories which he told of the wonders of the Old Land across
the sea.

I loved these delightful little gatherings in whose deliberations my dear
father played so notable a part. Those kind folk, now off the stage, never
allowed the spirit of provincialism to guide their judgment or their
attitude toward great public affairs. I recall with pleasure their
tolerance, their largeness of view, and fine magnanimity which raised
every question they discussed to a high level. They were a very simple
folk, but independent in their political actions and views. Into that
little group of free, independent political thinkers would often come a
warning from the Democratic boss of the city that they must follow with
undivided allegiance the organization's dictum in political matters and
not seek to lead opinion in the community in which they lived. Supremely
indifferent were these fine old chaps to those warnings, and unmindful of