Wounded Dermot pokes in the entrails of the Mullingar Accord

DAIL SKETCH:THE GOOD news is that there are only 11 more sitting days left until the summer break. That's a gruelling 11 days in the chamber until the balloon goes up July 3rd.'

With a fair wind, deputies should manage to pass a few Bills between now and then. It won't be easy for an administration suffering from chronic legislative constipation, but the prospect of temporarily escaping from Dáil scrutiny usually leads to a push from the Government.

Opposition deputies were already complaining yesterday about the lack of time left to do business before the place shuts up shop for three months.

"There are only two sitting days next week, followed by a break for a week, and then only nine sitting days before summer," fulminated Fine Gael's James Reilly, who operates on the simple principle that just one level of dudgeon is enough for any man, and it's high.

He was asking about legislation due before last Christmas, and then promised for before Easter, and then it was going to be ready in two weeks, and still there's no sign of it.

Leaders' Questions were remarkable yesterday in that the Taoiseach didn't blow a gasket. He did, however, indulge in an unnecessary amount of roaring at the Opposition during questions on the health service. And this after he showed admirable restraint while Fine Gael goaded him about failing to fulfil promises in relation to technology investment in schools.

While they shouted at him from across the floor, the Taoiseach clamped his arms tightly across his chest and leaned back on his seat, saying nothing.

But when Labour's Eamon Gilmore began asking about job cuts in Our Lady's Hospital for Sick Children, the atmosphere became more strained. Biffo replied, well prepared with figures and with a more rational explanation for budgetary management than his predecessor could ever achieve.

This was dismissed as "gobbledegook" by Gilmore, whereupon Opposition backbenchers began playing their new game. It's called "let's poke Biffo with a stick and see if he gets mad." It's really easy.

Instead of just delivering a straight answer and sitting down, the Taoiseach couldn't resist going toe to toe with his critics. They poked at him and he bellowed back. With smiles on their faces, the likes of Dinny McGinley, Bernard Durkan and Joe Costello made their interruptions. Even Michael D. Higgins got involved, as Biffo loudly fought his corner.

When he finally sat down, the Ceann Comhairle was banging his bell, PJ Sheehan was roaring about hip operations and the Opposition was very pleased with itself. It probably explains why IndaKinny was in such good spirits, beginning his day by wishing the Ceann Comhairle (52) a very happy birthday.

By the afternoon, the mood of sweetness and light was fading. Thankfully, the Birthday Bull O'Donoghue was not in the chair to witness Minister for Justice Dermot Ahern taking a vicious swipe at Pat Rabbitte.

It's been a difficult time for Dermot. One minute, he is packing his suitcase as minister for foreign affairs and preparing to jet off to a conference in Peru. The next, he is Minister for Justice and facing into a glamorous future of travelling to such exotic hot spots as Templemore and Moyross.

He began a fractious exchange with Fine Gael's Billy Timmins and Charlie Flanagan over Garda numbers. 14,000 and still counting, boasted Dermot. At this rate, the Government will easily reach its 15,000 target, and a full two years earlier than promised by Fine Gael in their famous election contract.

Billy and Charlie scoffed but then Rabbitte had to stick his oar in. "I'll lay you a bet of €100 that you won't deliver on that commitment," he grinned.

Dermot rounded on him. "You were part of that contract. You were off in Mullingar having a cup of coffee with them, were you not?" Pat flapped in his seat.

"Whatever happened following that cup of coffee?" dripped the former Master of Iveagh House.

Pat squawked in protest. Poor wounded Dermot looked like he was enjoying himself for the first time since he had to hang up his dinner jacket. "That cup of coffee cost you your job. That's why you're down there now and not leading your party." So much for the spirit of the Mullingar Accord.