J. J. O’Molloy, smiling palely, took up the gage.
—My dear Myles, he said, flinging his cigarette aside, you put a false
construction on my words. I hold no brief, as at present advised, for
the third profession _qua_ profession but your Cork legs are running
away with you. Why not bring in Henry Grattan and Flood and Demosthenes
and Edmund Burke? Ignatius Gallaher we all know and his Chapelizod
boss, Harmsworth of the farthing press, and his American cousin of the
Bowery guttersheet not to mention _Paddy Kelly’s Budget_, _Pue’s
Occurrences_ and our watchful friend _The Skibbereen Eagle_. Why bring
in a master of forensic eloquence like Whiteside? Sufficient for the
day is the newspaper thereof.