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Updated: June 4, 2025
And many's the one that leaves this in the highest of expictations, and is glad enough to get back to it in a tattered shirt and a whole skin, and with an increase of contintment under the ways of home upon his mind." "And you hope Micky'll come back, I suppose?" "Why wouldn't I, acushla?
"Ah, avourneen, Dominick, don't spake of them times. The happiness we had then is long gone, acushla, in one sense." "It's before me like yestherday, Vara the delight that went through my heart, jist as clear as yestherday, or the blessed sun that's shinin' through the broken windy on the floor there.
Musha, Owen, ate your dinner as you ought to do, wid your capers! How can you take a spade in your hand upon that morsel?" "Finish your own," said her husband, "an' never heed me; jist let me alone. Don't you see that if I wanted it, I'd ate it, an' what more would you have about!" "Well, acushla, it's your own loss, sure, of a sartinty. An' Rosha, whisper, ahagur, what can Owen or I do for you?
I stopped to listen, and soon detected in one of the speakers my friend Mickey Free; of the other I was not long in ignorance. "Love you, is it, bathershin? It's worship you, adore you, my darling, that's the word! There, acushla, don't cry; dry your eyes Oh, murther, it's a cruel thing to tear one's self away from the best of living, with the run of the house in drink and kissing!
"Kathleen," said he, "I gave her your message; but, avourneen, have sthrange news for you about Alley." "What, Owen? What is it, acushla? Tell me quick?" "The blessed child was not neglected no, but she was honored in our absence. A head-stone was put over her, an' stands there purtily this minute." "Mother of Glory, Owen!" "It's thruth.
Saints in glory! how could I forget you, acushla, an' what now can I do for you? Not a penny have I to pay lawyer, or attorney, or any one, to defind you at your trial, and it so near!" "Why, haven't you settled all that with Mr. Cassidy, the attorney?"
She was holding her nose in the air and sniffing; seated to windward of the smoker, and out of the pigtail-poisoned air, her delicate sense of smell perceived something lost to the others. "What is it, acushla?" "I smell something." "What d'ye say you smell?" "Something nice." "What's it like?" asked Dick, sniffing hard. "I don't smell anything." Emmeline sniffed again to make sure.
"Ah, acushla oge," replied the woman with a profound sigh, "that prayer's too late for me; anything else than a heavy and sorrowful heart I've seldom had: for the last twenty years and upwards little but care and sorrow has been upon me. "Indeed, one might easily guess as much," said Mave, "you have a look of heart-break and sorrow, sure enough.
You're the only one woman on earth to me. By the cross of Christ I swear it!" He was so white with passionate earnestness that she could not but believe him. "Well, then," she cried, "why will you not show me the letter?" "I'll tell you, acushla," said he. "I'm under oath not to show it, and just as I wouldn't break my word to you so I would keep it to those who hold my promise.
* The religious orders, as they are termed, most commonly entered into by the peasantry, are those of the Scapular and St. Francis. The order of Jesus or that of the Jesuits, is only entered into by the clergy and the higher lay classes. "How long will you stop in the neighborhood?" inquired Frank. "Arrah why, acushla?" replied the mendicant, softening his language.
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