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Updated: June 18, 2025
She said, in the hoarse whisper that was all she had left of her voice: "Is it yerself, Missus Cregan? Yuh're off to choorch early this mornin'." Mrs. Cregan looked around, blinking to clear her eyes. "Choorch?" she said, on the plaintiveness of a high note that broke in her throat. "Yuh're cryin', woman!". Her look of craftiness had changed at once to one of startled distress.
Cregan wept, and her tears were ludicrous. She was as fat as a Falstaff. Her features were as ill-suited for the expression of grief as a circus clown's.
The first time she was seen, but not recognised, in her boyish husband's company was by the Dalys, to which family his fellow-collegian and intimate friend, Kyrle Daly, belonged. A boat passed along the river before their house containing a hooded girl, the hunchback, and Hardress Cregan himself.
But there was, at once, something so helplessly stricken about the woman's plump despair, so infantile, so touchingly ridiculous, that Madame Wampa even smiled faintly and moved the bamboo table to let Mrs. Cregan squeeze into the chair that waited her. She sat down and held out her money in her palm. Madame Wampa took her hand. "I will tell you," she said. "I will see it in your hand."
His earlier works, 'The Gipsy's Warning' and 'The Brides of Venice, are now forgotten, but 'The Lily of Killarney, which was produced in 1862, is still deservedly popular. It is founded upon Boucicault's famous drama, 'The Colleen Bawn. Hardress Cregan, a young Irish landowner, has married Eily O'Connor, a beautiful peasant girl of Killarney.
"And you thought you thought," he cried, trying to get his breath, "you thought you were Eily, and I was Hardress Cregan! Oh, I see, I see!" He went on making a mock and a burlesque of her tragical hallucination till she laughed with him at last. When he put his hand up to turn out the gas, he began his joking afresh.
Among the many similar adventures related of him in this manner it is also said that some days afterward another girl, named Mary Cregan, found him concealed on the farm where she worked; and if the story is true, she must also have had the shock of an uncanny experience, for when she was busy at some lonely task in the yard she heard a voice speaking out of the well, and found that the eccentric had managed to drop himself into the bucket which was some little way below, the well only partly full of water.
"I was off to the grocer to buy some sugar when yuh stopped me." It was a lie. She had, in fact; started out, secretly, on a guilty errand which she should not acknowledge. "It's a lonely meal I'd 've been havin'," she said, "with Byrne down at the boiler house an' the boy off on his run." Mrs. Cregan did not reply, and they came to Sixth Avenue without more words.
"An' how's Cregan?" she says, "Well, I'm glad o' that.... An' the new dishes?... Good luck to them. Yuh're off early to church again." The ranchman and I were discussing courage. I had that day seen young Henry Thomas mount and ride a horse which had bucked in a way to impress the imagination. I spoke of it. "Was it the gray?" queried Brunner, and when I said it was, he scoffed.
Byrne cried: "What's wrong?" Mrs. Cregan did not hear. She stampeded to the door in the ponderous fright of a panic-stricken elephant. Her one thought was to find a place where she might get on her knees.... Cregan! It was himself! It was Dinny! Killed, maybe! She had blasphemed against the Church and Father Dumphy, and she must pray. She must pray for herself and for Cregan.
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