Ulster Sketches.

Hokitika Guardian, 8 June 1922, Page 4

Ulster Sketches.

liv .laincs Hudson'). BELFAST. A platoon of soldiers swinging down . the street, towels in their hands, off to ! Intihing-paradc. Titov wear the “ntit-ol'-l he-line” look—jolly and merry,! singing and whistling. I in the opposite direction rnnihles a motor-ion y full of accoutred men, their polished steel helmets, a dark given, glint inn in the sun.

Soon afterwards a patrol of 5 men, rifles "lit the trail,” marches in diamond formation. Two minutes later a funeral winds hy,. followed In a proeesnui of Mill men.

"So-and-so, sliol in the Falls-rond,” whispers a waiter. Now an armoured ear—-like a steel hox with a bomb-cage on top—runs past. A Lewis gun, nose in the air, is perched on the top rim and 5 policemen stare over the sides. "Peace or pieces S’” says a man with a laugh, pouring out his coffee.

Clolf clubhouse near Belfast. Linen .Merchant: "I tell you, if it wasn’t for the newspapers you wouldn’t know anything was tin- matter. Our business goes oil as usual; we play our golf, my wife and daughters go off to the pictures- ’tis just like being in London or Liverpool.” I'lngim or (drily) : “What about the attempt to hum down my works last night? I don’t believe it was the Protestants who did that murder. I’ve heard ”

Bank Manager: "Oh, don’t start that again. Come on now, Boh, and I will give you two strokes.’ (n the far distance there is a crack. Nobody takes any notice. Belfast street. Poor quarter, 8 p.tn. Men are standing about in doorways and at street corners —down-at-heel, wearing caps and mufflers. Children play about the gutter. A hand comes swiftlv round the side of a house and a Mills bomb sails through the air ami explodes with a crash. Women rush to their doors and sot up a wailing scream. Hevolvers are fired in the direction from which the bond) came. Shrill whistles herald an armoured car, which (ironies up the gathering crowd. Two little bodies lie still, torn and bleeding. Border village, 9.50 p.m. Mill-Owner’s Wife: "You’re got your revolver as well, dear?” Mill-Owner: "Yes. (He slings his rifle). Time I was off. The patrol will lie waiting.” Wife; "And don’t sit up when you get hack al two oh'lock —-you’ve a heavy dev to-inoi row.”

M ill-Ou hit : "I laimv—bill. 1 don’t want to lie in lied it anything does happen.” Outside sandbagged doorway ol a lonise a patrol of four is waiting. He leads them quietly down tlie street and along a country road. Everything is still, ami a little weird. Now and then they stop and listen. A bullet pings its way overhead. They halt. Silence. They move on again. Down the main road tears a C'rnssley tender, its lamps gleaming. They reach a tree felled across the road and retrace their steps. “Give ino "the trenches any day,” mutters a shop assistant, yawning slei pilv.