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Molyneux predicted that, amongst the medley of his fraudulent purchases, he would at length be the dupe of some unsound title; and that, amongst the multitudes whom he ruined, he would at last meet with some one who would ruin him. The person who was the means of accomplishing this prophecy was indeed the last that would have been guessed soft Simon O'Dougherty! In dealing with him, Mr.

The next morning, as these two youths were setting potatoes for the family, and considering to what they should turn their hands when the potatoes were all set, they were interrupted by a little gossoon, who came running up as hard as he could, crying, "Murder! murder! Simon O'Dougherty wants you.

Cursing himself, and overwhelmed with confusion, Mr. Hopkins withdrew. Proud of himself, and having a story to tell, Simon O'Dougherty hastened to Rosanna, to relate all that had happened to the Grays, and to congratulate them, as he said, upon his own carelessness. The joy with which they listened to Simon's story was great, and in proportion to the anxiety they had suffered.

"And if there is some difference betwixt me and Mrs. Gray, should be glad to know whose fault that is?" "So should I, Mrs. O'Dougherty." "Then I'll tell you, instantly, whose fault it is, Mr. O'Dougherty: the fault is your own, Mr. O'Dougherty. No, the fault is mine, Mr. O'Dougherty, for marrying you, or consorting with you at all. If I had been matched to an active, industrious man, like Mr.

"Content, in troth! Is it content to live upon potatoes and salt? I, that am your lawful wife! And you, that are an O'Dougherty too, to let your lady be demeaned and looked down upon, as she will be now, even by them that are sprung up from nothing since yesterday. There's Mrs. Gray, over yonder at Rosanna, living on your own land: look at her and look at me! and see what a difference there is!"

Hopkins, who had not listened to one syllable Simon was saying, at this instant suddenly stopped walking; and, in a soft insinuating voice, addressed him in these words: "Mr. O'Dougherty, you know I have a great regard for you." "May be so," said Simon; "though that is more than I ever knew you to have for any body." "Pray be serious. I tell you I have, and will prove it."

Send me and Stafford back again this minute to Rosanna, and we'll bring you the three votes as dead as crows in an hour's time, or my name is not O'Dougherty now." "I protest, Mr. O'Dougherty, I do not understand you." "Then let me whisper half a word in your ear, Sir Hyacinth, and I'll make you sensible I'm right."

The men complied with these impressive formalities, and the coroner then proceeded to interrogate one of them a strapping fellow with an intensely Irish face. "Name?" said the coroner. "Patrick O'Dougherty, yer Honor." The phrase "Yer Honor" produced its customary gracious effect. "Do you spell O'Dougherty with a 'k,?" asked the coroner. "Hang me if I knows!" said the O'Dougherty.

Her good easy man could not shut his doors against any one: the O'Doughertys were above a hundred years, ay, two hundred years ago, famous for hospitality; and it was incumbent upon Simon O'Dougherty to keep up the honour of the family. His four children were now to be maintained in idleness; for they, like their father, had an insurmountable aversion to business.

Well, yer Honor, ye was 'lected coroner by a small vote; an', in turn for me services, ye got me 'p'inted " "Ah! oh! I remember, now," said the coroner, somewhat confused. "I did not know you in the perliceman's dress. Well, Mr. O'Dougherty, did you see the prisoner on the night of the murder?" "I did, yer Honor. It was about twelve o'clock.