PART II 

 CHAPTER X 



MR MEAD 



" Vi'lits, vi'lits, vi'lits, your arner! " 



"Oh, bother violets!" said Mr French. He 

 had just come down the steps of the Kildare Street 

 Club, he had lost five pounds at cards, the after- 

 noon was drizzling, and he was being pestered to 

 buy violets. 



The violet vendor, a fantastically filthy old 

 woman in a poke bonnet, heedless of the rebuke, 

 pursued her avocation, and Mr French, trotting 

 like a dog behind him, chanting her wares, her 

 misfortunes, his good looks. 



" Sure, they're only a penny the bunch, sure, 

 they're only a penny the bunch. Oh, bless your 

 han'some face! Sure, you wouldn't be walkin' 

 the sthreets widout a flower in yer coat. Let your 

 hand drap into your pocket and find a penny, and 

 it's the blessin's of God will be pourin' on you 

 before the night's out. Sm:e, it's a bunch I'll be 

 givin' you for no thin' at all but just the pleasure 

 of fixin' it in your coat, an' they as big as cabbiges 

 and on'y a penny the bunch." 



H 121 



