"Which of you had the twins?"

From 'The Gates Flew Open' by Peadar O'Donnell (Jonathan Cape, 1932).

Paudeen O'Keeffe was a restless little man with a fine pair of eyes and a waspish tongue. He came to us first in civils and was rather accepted as part of the queer trappings in the early jail days. I don't remember him figuring in anything in 'D' wing and indeed I didn't give him any special attention in the early days in 'C'. I first noticed him the night we decided to parade all our men for count. We had got fed up keeping two men hidden for it meant considerable inconvenience. Paudeen that night came in smartly as usual- he was now wearing the uniform of a captain in the Free State Army; he counted quickly, jotted down the number and hung on his stride; two men too many was nothing serious and he probably felt he had just counted an extra file. But he went back and counted again, this time more slowly; a third time he counted, saying the numbers out loud and then he wheeled around and faced Cooney. They were rather a contrast, for Paudeen O'Keeffe is about five feet seven inches and Andy Cooney must be six foot one. 'Jasus, Cooney', Paudeen explained, 'Which of you had the twins?'

Will I bring my gun?

Padraig O Caoimh (POK) in conversation with Richard Mulcahy (RM) in 1964 continued (my edits).

POK: Well of course Gleeson, Paddy Gleeson, had his ear to the ground. He met all kinds of people, do you see, and he was a businessman, of course, I being a civil servant, I only met a few. (Gleeson's drapers, 11 Upper O'Connell Street). But in any case, there was a man by the name of Sean Hayes, he was a TD afterwards for West Cork and Mick (Collins) was for South East. But he was a civil servant (in 1916) and he was a quiet, easy-going man and said very little, but he was a very deep thinking man and he lived in 77 Heytesbury Street, I'll never forget the address, a very decent landlady there and he was very happy. I was living in 21 Lower Camden Street at the time. So we were going to work together at that time on Saturday (22nd. April 1916). We had to work on Saturday from half-past four until half-past eight, broken time, but in any case I said to him 'when I'm finished tonight I'm going to Gleeson's, I want to get a belt or a buckle, I want something small' and we went in to work. I was in to Gleeson's first that night and I was talking to...there was a fellow in Gleeson's by the name of..my God I haven't his name but he had a very bald head. You don't remember him at all in Gleeson's? He'd divil a hair at all on his head and I was looking at him and I said to him 'where is Gleeson?'  'Oh', says he, 'at confession in Marlborough Street'. That was enough for me, you know bloody well where he was. What the hell was his name? Sean Hayes arrived and he was getting his stuff and I had mine got and put it in my pocket you see and paid for it. Dick! Dick was his name. I'll get his other name later on. However, who should come in, in a terrible bloody state, this is what you want to know, but Griffith. Griffith used to deal in Gleeson's, of course, naturally, do you see. He didn't take any notice of us. Sean and I were here and he was over there talking to Dick and he said to Dick ' where is Mr. Gleeson?' And Dick says 'he's over in the chapel at confession'. Griffith got a bit flurried. He had him, do you see (laughter).  So he saw me then. He came up to me and said' goodnight Paddy' whatever he said 'goodnight, could you be in O'Kelly's house in Rathgar Road, between 8 and nine, or as soon as you can?' (Dr Seamus O'Kelly, 53 Rathgar Road). 'Well I could be there at half-past eight' I said, 'will I bring my gun?' (laughter). Well he looked at me, do you see, that's what I said , true as God 'will I bring my gun?' 'Oh no' says he ''no, no, no, no'. Well I came home and I told Cait.

to be continued..................