"If you have money,
"You still need to get a gun,
"It's only less than two British Pounds,
"Smuggled goods only need 12 shillings,
"Otherwise the Volunteer Cavalry will make you lose your life,
"Those who died just wanted to afford sugar..."
The children sang the nursery rhyme happily, but didn't understand its meaning at all.
In a red-brick house on the outskirts of Ireland's capital Dublin, the large landlord Ian Patrick glanced at the children playing by the roadside, frowned, and said to the steward beside him:
"Who taught them these damned things? If the British police hear it, they'll surely get whipped."
The steward immediately gave the servant at the door a look, and two men with fierce expressions rushed out, kicked each child on the buttocks a few times, and yelled the names of their parents, warning them to manage their children.
Patrick withdrew his gaze and said to the few people at the table:
