Reading and writing were rare accomplishments, and the post was altogether interrupted, so that many remained in suspense, from the beginning to the end of the war, as to the fate of those who had left them to take part in it.
The friends did not make long journeys, for Walter was unaccustomed to walk barefooted, and his feet at first were very sore and tender; but by the time they reached Dublin they had hardened, and he was able to stride along by the side of Larry, who, until he started with him for the war, had never had on a pair of shoes in his life.
As soon as they reached Dublin, they made their way to the quarters inhabited by the working classes.

There Walter purchased shoes, and made such alteration in their attire as to do away with their country aspect, and give them the appearance of two young fellows belonging to the town.
Having hired a room, and made these changes, they sallied out.
The streets were thronged with foreign troops, who behaved as if in a conquered country, swaggering along the streets, pushing the citizens out into the middle of the road, abusing the tradesmen who refused to part with their goods at nominal prices, making insolent remarks to any woman who hurried past them, and behaving with a freedom and license which showed how completely all bonds of discipline were relaxed.
"They look mighty bould," Larry whispered, "but it's mighty little of it they show when they see the Irish horse advancing agin them.

No one would think, to see them now, as they were the men we saw spurring away for the bare life on Boyne Water." "No, indeed, Larry," agreed Walter, who was furious at what he saw.

"I wish we had a few squadrons of Sarsfield's horse here.

We would clear the street of these vermin in no time.