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"That was not the Spartan way, O'Grady; but the advice, if taken, would doubtless have the same effect." "And who were the Spartans at all?" "I have not time to tell you now, O'Grady; I have no end of business on my hands." "Thin what do you keep me talking here for? haven't I a lot of work on me hands too.
There is no doubt that the French fought well, but it's our advance that forced him to retire, not the troops in front of him; so that, even if we have not had any killed or wounded, O'Grady, we have at least the satisfaction of having contributed to the victory." "Oh, bother your tactics! We have come here to fight, and no fighting have we had at all, at all.
I should have told their captain that I looked upon him as an obstinate pig, but as he and his first officer were both killed, there was no use in my spaking to him." "Well, it has been a very satisfactory operation," the major said, "and we are very well out of a very nasty fix. Now, you will go back to the brig, Captain O'Grady, and prepare to send the prisoners on board.
"Familiar faults with people named O'Grady," I remarked. "You're perfectly right. They got involved, and had to sell the place. Prescott bought it; and it was about a month after he had taken possession that the thing occurred. During the O'Grady's time, the bullock drivers had made a d d thoroughfare of the run, zigzagging from one tank to another, and passing close to the home station.
"Oh, Daff," said Little O'Grady earnestly, and all unmindful of any possible rebuff, "what's out in that room?" Daffingdon smiled at Virgilia. "Why don't you go and see?" he asked. "But don't break off the match!" said Virgilia, with a nervous titter. What state of overtension could have prompted her to a piece of bravado so rash, so superfluous? Little O'Grady gave her one look and sped away.
Why, Emily, if you and Hilda were hidden, all but your hands, the people would know the Colonel's lady from Judy O'Grady." Emily smiled abstractedly, she was counting compresses. She stopped long enough to ask, "Is Hilda still in town?" "Yes. I saw her yesterday on the other side of the street. I didn't speak, but some day when I get a good opportunity I am going to tell her what I think of her."
The submerged "resemblance" had risen once more to the surface, as Little O'Grady had foretold, and the canvas had been borne home in triumph to Preciosa's fond, admiring family. "Who did it?" asked her grandfather, boundlessly pleased. "That young man," replied Preciosa. "What young man?" "The one who came here that night and threw those big sheets of paper all over the furniture."
As he concluded the men broke into loud cheering, and the officers gathered around Terence and thanked and congratulated him most heartily on the service that he had rendered them. "You are a broth of a boy, Terence," Captain O'Grady said. "I knew that it was in you all along. I would not give a brass farthing for a lad who had not a spice of divil-ment in him.
He must put to its best use the weapon she had placed in his hand, when there was so much all the world, in fact to gain. "Do your best," said Preciosa, mindful of the portfolios that Little O'Grady had lugged downstairs and had opened in Festus Gowan's studio. "Leave them all behind," she added, feeling as keenly as ever the smart of her feeble complaisance toward Virgilia Jeffreys.
I came in to ask a simple question, and instead of giving me a civil answer you kape me wasting my time wid your O'Driscols and your Spartans and all kinds of rigmarole. That is the worst of being in an Irish regiment, nothing can be done widout ever so much blather;" and Captain O'Grady stalked out of the orderly-room.
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