[{"node":{"title":"Hanna237","Collections":"Part Three","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1951","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Thursday, April 7, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Hanna237","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Presbyterian, Soldier","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna237","Publisher":"Linen Hall Library","Relation":"Linen Hall Library","Rights":"Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA","Scanned image":{"src":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna237_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"\ufeff230\n\nan answering smile among his friends. After a couple\nof verses he gave in easily, with a laugh, to the\nbarman's pleading.\n\nThen, inconstantly, the soldier's cronies pressed\nround Petie; somebody bought him a drink, another\nwarned him it was a mad dangerous thing to call for a\nParty song before you knew the colour of your pub, a\nthird congratulated him on not meeting a bunch of boys\nthat would have given him his head in his hand, a fourth\nbought him a drink.\n\n\"But sure m'grandfather was hanged in the '98\nRising\" cried Petie. \"T'hell wi' that for a tale,\"\nsaid an old man with a round intelligent face \"Sure,\nI've never met a Presbyterian wi' drink on him yet,\nwhose grandfather wasn't hanged in the '98!\" They\nlaughed at this, and drinks were brought for Petie\nand the old man. It was the last hurried round, for\nthe bar counter had been mopped down, the cork-drawers\nstood erect, silent and motionless, and the boss and\nhis curates leaned against the back of the bar with\nfolded arms, shaking their heads silently to each\nwheedling appeal from the other side of the counter.\n\nThe publican straightened himself. \"Come on now,\ngentlemen, come on now! D'ye went the sergeant in on\nus? Time now, everybody!\" The Guardsman and his\nfriends and Petie were urged out of the bar onto the\nlamplit street. The soldier and some of the younger\nmen wanted to continue the drinking in an nearby club.\nSome of the more temperate wanted to go home, as the\nmen swayed against each other, shouting each other down,\nan old shawled crone came creeping out of the pub. She\nsidled up to the men her eyes searching among them,\nwhen she saw Petie she whipped a porter bottle out of\nher shawl. \"That's for you, ye ould Orange bastard!\"\nshe screamed, and struck him to the ground. She\n","Type":"Text"}}]