their insistence upon immediate redress. "A short time afterwards, I met Sir Antony MacDonnell in the House of Commons, and he asked 'What is your labourers' minimum?' I gave him a brief outline of the Macroom programme. 'No rational being could object,' he said, 'but what does it mean in hard cash?' I replied, 'Roughly, four millions.' And the great Irishman--'the worst enemy that ever came to Ireland' of Mr Dillon's nightmare hours--ended the interview with these laconic words: 'The thing ought to be done and I think can be.' At the period of the session at which the Bill was introduced, the opposition of even half-a-dozen determined men could have at any stage achieved its ruin. Thanks, however, to the good feeling the precedent of the Act of 1903 and the admirably conciliatory temper displayed by the labourers themselves in their agitation had engendered, the Bill went triumphantly through and has been crowned with glory in its practical application. I never pass through any of the southern counties now and feast my eyes on the labourers' cottages which dot the landscape--prettier than the farmers' own homes--honeysuckles or jasmines generally trailing around the portico--an acre of potato ground sufficient to be a sempiternal insurance against starvation, stretching out behind--the pig and the poultry--perhaps a plot of snowdrops or daffodils for the English market, certainly a bunch of roses in the cheeks of the children clustering about the doorsteps--without thankfully acknowledging that Cork was right in thinking such conquests were worth a great deal of evil speech from angry politicians." CHAPTER XV SOME FURTHER SALVAGE FROM THE WRECKAGE