feck that you are.
Right.
Useless feck, is it?
We’ll see.
It’s poor I am.
It’s unlucky I am.
But it’s useless...
I’m not.
Look at those shoes!
– Where are your shoes?
– Don’t know, sir.
Of course you know, boy.
Where are they?
Did your mommy not put
on your shoes this morning?
Did you come to school
without shoes, did you?
How many times have you been told about
walking the streets in your bare feet?
By God, I’ll boot
the bare feet out of you, boy.
Put them on, boy.
Quiet!
Do I hear sneering
in this class?
Do I hear jeering
at another’s misfortune?
Is there any boy in this class
who thinks he’s perfect?
If so, raise your hands.
Is there any boy here now who has money
galore to be spending on shoes?
Raise your hands.
No.
There are boys in this class
who have no shoes at all,
and it’s not
their fault.
It’s not their shame.
Our Lord had no shoes.
He died shoeless.
You don’t see Him
hanging on the cross sporting shoes.
– Do you, boys?
– No, sir!
What is it you don’t see
Our Lord doing?
Hanging on the cross
sporting shoes.
“Hanging on the cross
sporting shoes,” what?
Hanging on the cross
sporting shoes, sir.
Everyday,
me dad would look for a job,
– somehow, he never seemed to get one.
– We’ve enough for today.
– Mam said it was his Northern accent.
– No work here. Sorry.
Grandma said it was because
of his funny manner.
Me dad knew those
lanes like the back of his hand.
He walked them often enough
when he couldn’t get work...
and was too ashamed
to come home to me mam.
That’s why
we loved Easter.
Because it was at Easter
that me dad got his first job.
The dipsy doodle
is the thing to beware
The dipsy doodle
is gonna get in your hair
And if it gets to you
it couldn’t be worse
The things you say
will all come out in reverse
Don’t go
up the mine, Manny
That’s the way
the dipsy doodle works
The dipsy doodle
is a way to do fine
It’s almost always
at the back of your mind
You never know it’s there
until it’s too late
And then you get
in such a terrible state
Will you stop it?
Maybe if you weren’t
strangling me, I’d be fine.
– Stop it.
– When you think you’re crazy
It was only
at the Limerick Cement Factory,
but he still wore
a collar and tie.
He said a man without a tie
had no respect for himself.
Come on.
In Mountjoy jail
One Monday morning
High upon the gallows tree
Kevin Barry
gave his young life
For the cause
of liberty
For Jesus’ sake,
put a sock in it!
Some of us have to go
to feckin’ work in the morning!
Yet there’s
no one can deny
As he walked to death
that morning
He proudly
held his head
His head up high
Francis! Malachy!
Come down here, boys.
I have the Friday penny for you.
No. Be quiet.
Up, boys!
Those Red Branch Knights!
Those Fenian men!
The glorious I.R.A.!
Up! Up! Up!
I have the Friday penny
for you, boys.
You line up
like soldiers now,
and promise to die
for Ireland.
– I don’t want it.
– I don’t want it either.
Damn!
When we woke up the next morning,
he was still asleep.
He missed work
and lost his job.
And what do I have here,
Clohessy?
Strips of newspaper, sir.
And what do they
represent, Clohessy?
Pieces of
the Limerick Leader, sir.
No!
The body and blood
of Christ.
If you don’t pay more attention,
it’ll be the Last Rites...
you’ll be getting,
not your Holy Communion.
Irish is the language
of patriots...
and English
of traitors and informers.
But Latin--
ah, boys, Latin--
that the Holy Martyrs
spoke before expiring...
in the foaming mouths
of ravenous lions.
Yes, it’s Latin that gains
entrance to heaven itself.
But there are boys
in this class...
who will never know
Sanctifying Grace.
And why?
Because of greed.
Those greedy little black guards
are talking even now...
about the money they’ll
get from the Collection.
They’ll go from house to house
in their little suits like beggars.
And will they take
any of that money...
and send it to the