"But you must stand up for yourself, Angela. Tell them your father was king of Ireland lots of hundreds of years ago, and that long ago, when the kings lived, all your cousins and brothers were red-cross knights." "What were red-cross knights?" I asked, deeply impressed. "Oh, they were men who wore long cloaks with red crosses on them, and rode about on steeds." "What's steeds?" I breathlessly inquired. "Horses," was the pettish answer; "only you know they go quicker than horses, and knights always preferred steeds. And they took things from the rich and gave them to the poor." "What things?" I again asked. "Isn't she stupid? I declare she knows nothing. Why, food and money and clothes, to be sure. They'll say the Irish are dreadful ignorant and stupid when they see Angela, won't they?" A great deal more was of course said between four passionate and voluble children; but all I remember of that winter afternoon was the stupendous news that I was going away in a ship soon across the sea to a foreign land, where I should be submitted to insult, perhaps torture, because I was Irish, if I were not previously devoured by a shark--a creature the more terrible because of my complete ignorance not only of its existence, but of its general features; and the mention of a new animal was something like the menace of the devil: large, luminous, potent, and indistinct. I already knew through Mary Jane that there was a Queen who put Irish people into prison, and entertained herself by hanging them at her leisure, and that evening I startled Mary Ann out of her senses by asking her if it was likely I should be hanged in England like Robert Emmet. And then, in order that she should have a proper notion of the extent of my acquaintance with Robert Emmet, I stood in the middle of the kitchen, with my arms strenuously folded, my brows gathered in a fearful frown to reproduce the attitude of Robert Emmet in the dock, as depicted in the parlour of Mary Jane's mamma. "You know the English hanged him 'cause he was Irish," I explained, extremely proud to impart my information. "Mary Jane told me so. When I fell into the pond she cried, 'cause she was afraid the Queen would hang her too." Mary Ann laughed till she wept, and then drying her eyes, vowed she would like to see "thim English" touch a gould hair of my head. "If thim monsthers as much as lay a hand on ye, darlint, you just send me word, and me and Dennis 'll soon come over and whack them all round." Perfidious Mary Ann! She failed to keep this large and liberal promise when, in my sore hour of need, I indited an ill-spelt epistle to her from Saxon shores, and urged her to come and save me. I did not insist upon the whacking, I only entreated to be taken back to Erin. Probably the letter never reached her.