Trinity College, when I entered the quadrangle next day, seemed singularly deserted. The long vacation had begun a week before. Fellows, professors and students had fled from the scene of their labours. Halfway across the square, however, I met McNeice. He seemed quite glad to see me and invited me to luncheon in his rooms. I accepted the invitation and was fed on cold ham, stale bread and bottled stout. Thackeray once hinted that fellows of Trinity College gave their guests beer to drink. Many hard words have been said of him ever since by members of Dublin University. I have no wish to have hard things said about me; so I explain myself carefully. McNeice's luncheon was an eccentricity. It is not on cold ham solely, it is not on stale bread ever, that guests in the Common Room are fed. If, like Prince Hal, they remember amid their feasting "that good creature, small beer," they do not drink it without being offered nobler beverages. When the University, in recognition of my labours on the Life of St. Patrick, made me a doctor of both kinds of law, I fared sumptuously in the dining hall and afterwards sipped port rich with the glory of suns which shone many many years ago on the banks of the upper Douro. After luncheon, while I was still heavy with the spume of the stout, McNeice asked me if I had seen the new paper which was being published to express, I imagine also to exacerbate, the opinions of the Ulster Unionists. He produced a copy as he spoke. It was called _The Loyalist_. "We wanted something with a bite in it," he said. "We're dead sick of the pap the daily papers give us in their leading articles." Pap is, I think, a soft innocuous food, slightly sugary in flavour, suitable for infants. I should never have dreamed of describing the articles in _The Belfast Newsletter_ as pap. An infant nourished on them would either suffer badly from the form of indigestion called flatulence or would grow up to be an exceedingly ferocious man. I felt, however, that if McNeice had anything to do with the editing of _The Loyalist_ its articles would be of such a kind that those of the _Newsletter_ would seem, by comparison, papescent. "We're running it as a weekly," said McNeice, "and what we want is to get it into the home of every Protestant farmer, and every working-man in Belfast. We are circulating the first six numbers free. After that we shall charge a penny." I looked at _The Loyalist_. It was very well printed, on good paper. It looked something like _The Spectator_, but had none of the pleasant advertisements of schools and books, and much fewer pages of correspondence than the English weekly has. "Surely," I said, "you can't expect it to pay at that price." "We don't," said McNeice. "We've plenty of money behind us. Conroy--you know Conroy, don't you?" "Oh," I said, "then Lady Moyne got a subscription out of him after all. I knew she intended to."