“We’ll make it short,” said Dr. O’Grady. “We won’t stick him for more than about 10s. over the inscription. After all long inscriptions are vulgar. I propose that Mr. Thaddeus Gallagher, as the only representative of the press among us, be commissioned to write the inscription.” “We couldn’t have a better man,” said Father McCormack. “I’ll not do it,” said Gallagher. He had a solid reason for refusing the honour offered to him. The writer of an inscription at the base of a statue is almost bound to make some statement about the person whom the statue represents. “You will now, Thady,” said Doyle, “and you’ll do it well.” “I will not,” said Gallagher. “Let the doctor do it himself.” “There’s no man in Connacht better fit to draw up an inscription of the kind,” said Father McCormack, “than Mr. Gallagher.” Thady Gallagher was susceptible to flattery. He would have liked very well to draw up an inscription for the statue, modelling it on the resolutions which he was accustomed to propose at political meetings in favour of’ Home Rule. But he was faced with what seemed to him an insuperable difficulty. He did not know who General John Regan was. “Let the doctor do it,” he said reluctantly. “Whoever does it,” said Doyle, “it’ll have to be done at once. My nephew said that on account of the way we are pressed for time he’d be glad if the words of the inscription was wired to him to-day.” “It would, maybe, be better,” said Father McCor-mack, “if you were to do it, doctor. We’ll all be sorry that the words don’t come from the accomplished pen of our respected fellow citizen, Mr. Gallagher——” “I’ll not do it,” said Gallagher, “for I wouldn’t know what to say.” “Write it out and have done with it, O’Grady,” said the Major. “What’s the good of keeping us sitting here all day?” “Very well,” said Dr. O’Grady. “After all, it’s not much trouble. How would this do? ‘General John Regan—Patriot—Soldier—Statesman—Vivat Bolivia’.” “We couldn’t do better,” said Father McCormack. “What’s the meaning of the poetry at the end of it?” asked Gallagher. “It’s not poetry,” said Dr. O’Grady, “and it doesn’t mean much. It’s the Latin for ‘Long live Bolivia.’” Gallagher rose to his feet. He had been obliged to confess himself unable to write an inscription; but he was thoroughly well able to make a speech. “Considering,” he said, “that the town of Ballymoy is in the Province of Connacht which is one of the provinces of Ireland, and considering the unswerving attachment through long centuries of alien oppression which the Irish people have shown to the cause of national independence, it’s my opinion that there should be something in the inscription, be the same more or less, about Home Rule. What I say, and what I’ve always said——” “Very well,” said Dr. O’Grady, “I’ll put ‘Esto Perpetua,’ if you like. It’s the same number of letters, and it’s what Grattan said about the last Home Rule Parliament. That ought to satisfy you, and I’m sure the Major won’t mind.”