Good. Now heres what I want to tell you. Lean over here so I can
whisper in your ear.What I want to tell you is, Never smoke another
mans pipe.
Halvey goes off to England with Rose and I have to stay on the mes-
senger bike all through the winter. Its a bitter winter, ice everywhere,
and I never know when the bike will go out from under me and send
me flying into the street or onto the pavement, magazines and papers
scattered. Shops complain to Mr. McCaffrey that The Irish Times is com-
ing in decorated with bits of ice and dog shit and he mutters to us thats
the way that paper should be delivered, Protestant rag that it is.
Every day after my deliveries I take The Irish Times home and read
it to see where the danger is. Mam says its a good thing Dad isnt here.
Hed say, Is this what the men of Ireland fought and died for that my
own son is sitting there at the kitchen table reading the freemason
paper?
There are letters to the editor from people all over Ireland claiming
they heard the first cuckoo of the year and you can read between the
lines that people are calling each other liars. There are reports about
Protestant weddings and pictures and the women always look lovelier
than the ones we know in the lanes.You can see Protestant women have
perfect teeth although Halveys Rose had lovely teeth.
I keep reading The Irish Times and wondering if its an occasion of
sin though I dont care. As long as Theresa Carmody is in heaven not
coughing I dont go to confession anymore. I read The Irish Times and
TheTimes of London because that tells me what the King is up to every
day and what Elizabeth and Margaret are doing.
I read English womens magazines for all the food articles and the
answers to womens questions. Peter and Eamon put on English accents
and pretend theyre reading from English womens magazines.
Peter says, Dear Miss Hope, Im going out with a fellow from Ire-
land named McCaffrey and he has his hands all over me and his thing
pushing against my belly button and Im demented not knowing what
to do. I remain, yours anxiously, Miss Lulu Smith,Yorkshire.
Eamon says, Dear Lulu, If this McCaffrey is that tall that hes push-
ing his yoke against your belly button I suggest you find a smaller man
who will slip it between your thighs. Surely you can find a decent short
man in Yorkshire.
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