FDV: Now it was the habit This Treacle Tom to whom reference has been made had been absent from his usual wild and woolly haunts for some time previously (he was in the habit of frequenting common lodging-houses where he slept in a nude state in strange beds shakedowns) but returning on Baldoyle night to [his house of call at] Block Z, Pump Square, the Liberties [he sought his [warm] bed] he repeated the tale more than once during uneasy slumber and in the hearing of a ballad monger and a discharged drapery executive O'Donnell out of work for the moment Peter Cloran O'Donnell a secretary of no fixed abode who had passed several nights in a doorway and Hosty an illstarred streetsinger busker who, feeling suicidal, had been tossing on his doss in the hope of soon finding ways & means for getting a loan of some chaps' parabellum to go & find some quiet dive somewhere off the main tram line blowing & blow the napper off himself in peace & quietness. He having been trying for over a year to get into Jervis street hospital without having been able to wangle it anyway. O'Donnell [& Peter Cloran [as an understood thing,]] slept in the same bed one bunk with hosty when day dawned and the housewife dawn-of-all-work had not been many hours furbishing potlids, doorbrasses, scholars' applecheeks & horny buttons when that busker the busker and his bedmates bedroom suite was were up and afoot crosstown thrumming his square crewth fiddle and after a visit to a public house near not 1,000 miles from Parnell's statue [where the trio were] in company of two decent boys joined by another casual & a decent sort who had just pocketed his weekly insult where all had stimulants [[in the shape of gee and gees stood by the decent sort] at the decent sort's expense [& came out of the licensed premises wiping their mouth on their sleeves]] the world was the richer for a new halfpenny ballad first sung from the under the shadow of the monument of the dead legislator [to an audience overflow meeting [fully filling the visional area] representative of every section of the Irish people [ranging from slips of boys [with pocketed hands, ladychairs, [a few old souls obviously under the spell of liquor] & emergency men [in search of an honest crust]] to busy professional gentlemen.]] Word went round and etc. This on a slip of blue paper headed by a woodcut soon fluttered on highway & byway to the rose of the winds from lane to lattice and from mouth to ear, throughout the 5 corners of the land of Ireland, and round the land his rann it ran and this is the rann that Hosty made: