’Tisn’t, sir. And you, Heffernan, should get down on your two knees every night and thank God you’re not a Yank for if you were,Heffernan,you’d be the greatest gangster on two sides of the Atlantic.Al Capone would be  coming  to  you  for  lessons. You’re  not  to  be  bothering  these  two Yanks anymore, Heffernan. I won’t, sir. And if you do, Heffernan, I’ll hang your pelt on the wall. Now go home, all of ye. There are seven masters in Leamy’s National School and they all have leather straps, canes, blackthorn sticks.They hit you with the sticks on the shoulders, the back, the legs, and, especially, the hands. If they hit you on the hands it’s called a slap.They hit you if you’re late, if you have a leaky nib on your pen, if you laugh, if you talk, and if you don’t know things. They hit you if you don’t know why God made the world, if you don’t know the patron saint of Limerick, if you can’t recite the Apos- tles’ Creed, if you can’t add nineteen to forty-seven, if you can’t subtract nineteen from forty-seven, if you don’t know the chief towns and prod- ucts of the thirty-two counties of Ireland, if you can’t find Bulgaria on the wall map of the world that’s blotted with spit, snot, and blobs of ink thrown by angry pupils expelled forever. They hit you if you can’t say your name in Irish, if you can’t say the Hail Mary in Irish, if you can’t ask for the lavatory pass in Irish. It helps to listen to the big boys ahead of you. They can tell you about the master you have now, what he likes and what he hates. One master will hit you if you don’t know that Eamon De Valera is the greatest man that ever lived.Another master will hit you if you don’t know that Michael Collins was the greatest man that ever lived. Mr.  Benson  hates America  and  you  have  to  remember  to  hate America or he’ll hit you. Mr.  O’Dea  hates  England  and  you  have  to  remember  to  hate England or he’ll hit you. If you ever say anything good about Oliver Cromwell they’ll all hit you. . . . 80