'Where's the sign of English marks ?' 'The pipes resemble one another,' said Philip, 'like tails of Shannon-bred retrievers.' 'Maybe they 're both Irish, then ?' the captain caught at analogy to rescue his favourite from reproach.
'Both of them are Saxon.' 'Not a bit of it!' 'Look at the clay.' 'I look, and I tell you, Philip, it's of a piece with your lukewarmness for the country, or you wouldn't talk like that.' 'There is no record of pipe manufactories in Ireland at the period you name.' 'There is: and the jealousy of rulers caused them to be destroyed by decrees, if you want historical evidence.' 'Your opposition to the Saxon would rob him of his pipe, Con!' 'Let him go to the deuce with as many pipes as he can carry; but he shan't have this one.' 'Not a toss-up of difference is to be seen in the pair.' 'Use your eyes.

The Irish bowl is broken, and the English has an inch longer stem!' 'O the Irish bowl is broken!' Philip sang.
'You've the heart of a renegade-foreigner not to see it!' cried the captain.
Patrick intervened saying: 'I suspect they're Dutch.' 'Well, and that 's possible.' Captain Con scrutinised them to calm his temper: 'there's a Dutchiness in the shape.' He offered Philip the compromise of 'Dutch' rather plaintively, but it was not accepted, and the pipes would have mingled their fragments on the hearthstone if Patrick had not stayed his arm, saying: 'Don't hurt them.' 'And I won't,' the captain shook his hand gratefully.
'But will Philip O'Donnell tell me that Ireland should lie down with England on the terms of a traveller obliged to take a bedfellow?
Come! He hasn't an answer.

Put it to him, and you pose him.

But he 'll not stir, though he admits the antagonism.

And Ireland is asked to lie down with England on a couch blessed by the priest! Not she.