"If you have money,
"you still need to get a gun,
"it barely costs two British Pounds,
"smuggled ones cost just twelve shillings,
"otherwise the Volunteer Cavalry will make sure you lose your life,
"those dead folks just wanted to afford sugar..."
The children sang the nursery rhyme cheerfully, not understanding its meaning at all.
In a red-brick house on the outskirts of Dublin, capital of Ireland, the major landlord Ian Patrick glanced at the playing children by the roadside, frowned, and said to the steward beside him:
"Who taught them this nonsense? If the British police hear this, they're likely to get thrashed."
The steward immediately signaled to the servants at the door. Two fierce-looking men rushed out, kicked each child on the backside a few times, and loudly called out their parents' names, warning them to keep their kids in line.
Patrick withdrew his gaze, and said to those at the table:
