Is the little tavern, the Hen and Chickens, on the Liffeyside, still going?
I mean the place where the seamen and the merchant-ship officers visit." Michael nodded.
"Well, look you, Michael--get you both there, and order me as good a meal of fish and chops and baked pudding as can be bought for money.
Aye, and I'll have a bottle of red French wine, and you two will have what you like best.

Mark me, we'll sit together there, for we're one of a kind.

I've got to take to a life that fits me, an ex-jailbird, a man that's been in prison for killing!" "There's the king's army," said Michael.

"They make good officers in it." A strange, half-sore smile came to Dyck's thin lips.
"Michael," said he, "give up these vain illusions.

I was condemned for killing a man not in fair fight.
"I can't enter the army as an officer, and you should know it.