The two sandwich men stood with their heels against the kerbstone, and stared across the grey, sunless street with the unseeing gaze of men whose thoughts are far away. The boards which they carried, suspended from their drooping shoulders, urged the passer to travel by a certain route towards the sunshine that now calls from distant places to the jaded city worker. Complete boredom was written plainly on the faces of the two men, and quite suddenly, without any warning at all, one of them turned towards the other and began to tap him repeatedly on the jaw with a clenched fist. For a long time the victim took no notice of the assault, but continued to gaze across the street with blank, unnoticing eyes, while the fist of the smaller man went tap, tap against his motionless jaw.
Any worm will turn at last, and, with a suddenness that was alarming, the man whose patience seemed never-ending raised the board that dangled against his chest and brought it down with such force on the head of his attacker that the old bowler hat sunk inches lower. Then both the men resumed their attitude of boredom and indifference.
The Irish Times, July 21st, 1931