Young men, romantic men, high-spirited men had gone up to the Olympian heights two years, three years, four years before; there came down sober men, weary men, nervy men, and men with blood upon their hands. Rumour had long had it that many of the Olympians were on the verge of collapse, and rumour had been true. Chastened demigods came down to walk among common men again. The Sunday after our return we went out to Mrs. Fitzgerald’s cottage. Her husband, the Minister of Propaganda, was out of prison, and came wandering in from the dining-room. Under his eyes were marks of wear and tear. He was one of the least provincial of the Dail deputies, had the easy manner of a travelled man, and gave glimpses of an educated mind. The Minister of Commerce turned up during the afternoon. He had been much hunted before the armistice; but he had not been taken. He looked very strung up, and admitted he had nerves. “I shall dye my hair if it starts again,” he announced. “There’s nothing to beat that.” Later two uniformed Republican officers dropped in from a camp on the hill at the back. It was astonishing to sit among these people who had been shadows a few days before. The camp at the back of the cottage was a military centre for the district, and now and then the local volunteers were reviewed there. They came from all points on bicycles and on foot, the new generation, the young men, the people who were most affected by this national birth, this Irish renaissance. Some leader of the Republican Army would be there to review, a man who a few weeks before had a price on his head, and who could not have been seen by common men without permits, passwords, and all the paraphernalia of the Sinn Fein underworld. The astonishing thing about these materialised Irish Volunteers was their youth. The country had been given into the keeping of boys, and even the leaders of the movement were nearly all young men. Elderly people shook their heads; but I believe the omen a good one, for Ireland suffers under the burden of her antiquity, and only young men can bring her a new life. One looks forward fearfully, but with hope, to the new Ireland that is being hammered into shape. Ploughboys and shop assistants wield the hammers. The days passed, and the long hot summer drew to an end.