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Updated: June 17, 2025
"Act," said he, "as O'Donovan did, whom you yourself prosecuted and placed in the very cell in which you now stand." "Connor O'Donovan!" he exclaimed, "he might well bear to die; he was innocent; it was I that burned Bodagh Buie's haggard; he had neither act nor part in it no more than the child unborn. I swore away his life out of revinge to his father an' jealousy of himself about Una O'Brien.
During the occurrence of these melancholy incidents at Fardorougha's, others of a scarcely less distressing character were passing under the roof of Bodagh Buie O'Brien. Our readers need not be informed that the charge brought by Bartle Flanagan against Connor, excited the utmost amazement in all who heard it.
"Faith, achora, it may be no laughin' stock afther all," replied the Bodagh. "I think, mother," observed John, "that you and my father had better treat the matter with more seriousness. Connor O'Donovan is a young man not to be despised by any person at all near his own class of life who regards the peace and welfare of a daughter.
"I say, nabor, which is the right way into Bodagh Buie's house?" "There's two right ways into it, an' you may take aither o' them but if you want any favor from him, you had better call him Mr. O'Brien. The Bodagh's a name was first given to his father, an' he bein' a dacenter man, doesn't like it, although it sticks to him; so there's a lift for you, my hip striddled little codger."
"Not, father, because he's Fardorougha's son," said Una, whose face was still hid in her mother's bosom; "I would rather he wasn't." "But you do love him?" "For three years he has scarcely been out of my mind." Something that might be termed a smile crossed the countenance of the Bodagh at this intimation.
It may be very well to tell a lie to them that can bear it to a rich bodagh, or his proud lady of a wife although it's a mean thing even to them; but to tell a lie to that heartbroken woman and her poor childhre her childhre aren't they her own? an' who would spake for them if she wouldn't. If every one treated the poor that way, what would become of them?
"Not I; divil a hap'orth I know about who he's courtin'." "No less than our great beauty, Bodagh Buie's daughter, Una O'Brien. Now, Bartle, for goodness sake, don't let this cross your lips to a livin' mortal. Sure I heard him tellin' all to the father and mother last night they're promised to one another. Eh! blessed saints, Bartle, what ails you? you're as white as a sheet.
"Simon Pettier Staeught." This and several others of the same class were served upon the Bodagh, with the intention of intimidating him from the prosecution of Flanagan. They had, however, quite mistaken their man. The Bodagh, though peaceable and placable, had not one atom of the coward in his whole composition.
The Bodagh, whose notions in matters of delicacy and feeling were rough but honest, now rang the bell with an uncommon, nay, an angry degree of violence. "Get up some spirits here, an' don't be asleep. You must take a glass of whiskey before you go," he said, addressing Nogher. "Sir," replied Nogher, "I'm in a hurry home, for I'm aff my day's work." "By , but you must," rejoined the
Now Bodagh Buie, as far as I hear for I'm in the dark myself nearly as much as you Bodagh Buie houlds out against them; an' not only that, I'm tould, but gives them hard words, an' sets them at defiance." "But what has all this to do with me marrying his daughter?"
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