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Updated: June 14, 2025
The folk of the town had much to talk of for a day, and the dead man's will gave still higher speed to their tongues, for he had left the hotel and all its appurtenances to Widdy Hartigan, as a life interest; after her death it was to go to a kinsman. Thus, out of John Downey's grave there grew a tree with much-needed and wholesome fruit. Now Kitty was in a quandary.
But nobody took any notice of him; and upstairs in the drawing-room that night his bon-bons failed to charm. "I suppose you're pleased," said he, approaching his hostess, "now you've got Mr. Rickman back again?" A deeper flush than the Dinner could account for was Mrs. Downey's sole reply. "'is manners 'aven't improved since 'is residence in the country.
Here it was a question of principle and his word to his mother helped him where by nature he was weak. So he grew up, hedged about with a dignity that was in some sense a foreshadowing of his destiny. But there was much dross to be burned away and the two great passions that stood between Jim Hartigan and full spiritual manhood had their roots in these early years at Downey's.
Downey's face became if possible more luminous, Miss Bramble's figure if possible more erect. A feeble flame flickered in Mr. Partridge's cheeks; Mr. Soper began feeling nervously in his pocket for the box of bon-bons, his talisman of success; while Mr. Spinks appeared as if endeavouring to assume a mental attitude not properly his own.
There was nothing nothing to make her feel ashamed when she looked back upon that day; a reflection from which she derived much consolation afterwards. It gave her courage to fly downstairs to Mrs. Downey's private room where that lady sat doing her accounts, to lean over the back of Mrs. Downey's chair and to whisper into her ear, "I've been dusting Mr. Rickman's books, He caught me at it." Mrs.
The familiar phrase, "He's a good man," had two accepted meanings: If obviously applied to a settler during the regular Saturday night Irish row in the little town of Downey's Dump, it meant he was an able man with his fists; but if to his home life on the farm, it implied that he was unusually dexterous with the axe. A man who fell below standard was despised.
If you don't like it, you can finish the job yourself. I'm tired," said Poppy, wearily coiling up her hair. She was no longer in spirits. A tiny jet of gas made a glimmer in the fan-light of Mrs. Downey's boarding-house next door. Mrs. Downey kept it burning there for Mr. Rickman. Guided by this beacon, he reached his door, escaping many dangers.
It is related that a young lawyer from San Francisco, dining at the Palmetto restaurant, pushed away one of Mammy Downey's pies with every expression of disgust and dissatisfaction. At this juncture, Whisky Dick, considerably affected by his favorite stimulant, approached the stranger's table, and, drawing up a chair, sat uninvited before him.
Downey stared, and Flossie nodded as much as to say "Fact!" "You don't mean to say so?" "Nobody's more surprised than myself." The rest was kisses and congratulations, wholly magnanimous on Mrs. Downey's part; for the announcement of Flossie's engagement cost her one of the gayest, most desirable, and most remunerative of her brilliant circle. Mr.
In the stable yard of Downey's Hotel, where Jim Hartigan the father of our hero and several others of his Church were disconsolately looking forward to a dreary and humiliating day, the cheery uproar of the Orangemen in the bar-room could plainly be heard.
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