Here and there, also, in certain streets--where officials lived or worked--were soldiers afoot; soldiers with carbines and long bayonets, with tall, slightly peaked hats, smart red coats, belts crossing their breasts, knee-breeches and leggings, and all with epaulets shining.

They were in marked contrast to the peasant folk with the high-peaked soft hat, knee-breeches, rough tail-coat, and stockings, some with rifles, some with pikes, some with powder-horns slung under their arms or in the small of the back.
Besides this show of foot-soldiers--that is, regulars and irregulars of the Cornwallis Regiment, and men of the Defenders and the Peep-o'-Day Boys--there were little groups of cavalry making their way to the parade-ground, the castle, the barracks, or the courts.
Beyond these there was the jaunting-car trundling over the rough cobblestone street, or bumping in and out of dangerous holes.

Whips cracked, and the loud voices of jarveys shouted blatant humour and Irish fun at horse and passenger.

Here and there, also, some stately coach, bedizened with arms of the quality, made its way through the chief streets, or across the bridges of the Liffey.
Then came the general population, moving cheerfully in the inspiriting sun; for Irishmen move so much in a moist atmosphere that on a sunshiny day all tristesse of life seems changed, as in a flash, into high spirits and much activity.

Not that the country, at its worst, is slow-footed or depressed; for wit is always at the elbow of want.
Never in all Ireland's years had she a more beautiful day than that in which Dyck Calhoun and the Hon.