“With regard to the illuminated address,” said Doyle, “I’m of opinion that the carrying out of it should be given into the hands of a Dublin firm. It’s our duty to support Irish manufacture. There’s too much money sent over to England that might be far better kept at home. You’ll agree with me there, Thady.” “What are you going to say in the address?” said the Major. “Oh, the usual things,” said Dr. O’Grady. “I don’t think we need go into that in detail. All addresses are pretty much the same.” “I won’t sign my name to anything political,” said the Major. “I’m with you there,” said Father McCormack. “It’s one of the curses of this country the way politics are dragged into business.” “Nobody wants politics,” said Dr. O’Grady. “The address will contain nothing but nice little compliments to the Lord-Lieutenant with a word or two about the value of piers put in at the end.” “If the matter’s left in the hands of the firm I have in mind,” said Doyle, “it’ll be done right. They’ve illuminated three-quarters of the addresses that have been presented in the country, and whether it’s a bank manager or a priest going on a new mission, or a Lord-Lieutenant that the address is for, the firm I mean will know what to put into it. They’ve had the experience, and experience is what is wanted.” “We’ll give him names and dates,” said Dr. O’Grady, “and tell him that this is a seaport town with no proper pier. With that information any fool could draw up the text of an illuminated address. I propose that the matter be left in the hands of a subcommittee consisting of Mr. Doyle.” “Are you all agreed on that, gentlemen?” said Father McCormack. Thady Gallagher rose slowly to his feet. “With regard to what Mr. Doyle has just laid before the meeting,” he said, “and speaking of the duty of supporting Irish manufacture, I’m of opinion that his words do him credit. I’m an out and out supporter of the Industrial Revival, and when I look round about me on the ruined mills that once were hives of industry, and the stream of emigration which is flowing from our shores year after year———” “I don’t think we need spend much time discussing the bouquet,” said Dr. O’Grady. “It’ll have to be ordered from Dublin too.” “There’s no flowers here to make a bouquet of,” said Doyle, “unless, maybe, the Major——” “I’ve a few Sweet-Williams,” said the Major, “and a bed of mixed stocks. If you think they’d be any use to you you’re welcome to them.” “We might do worse,” said Father McCormack. “We’ll have to do better,” said Dr. O’Grady. “You can’t offer a lady in the position of a Lord-Lieutenant’s wife a bundle of ordinary stocks! What we have to get is lilies and roses.” “It’s only right that we should,” said Father McCormack, “but I think the thanks of the meeting ought to be given to Major Kent for his generous offer.” “I second that,” said Doyle. “The Major was always a good friend to anything that might be for the benefit of the town or the locality.”