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Updated: June 6, 2025
For an eminently readable and all things considered a wonderfully impartial account of this movement, the reader cannot do better than consult Sir Charles Gavan Duffy's "Four Years of Irish History," which has the immense advantage of being history taken at first hand, written that is by one who himself took a prominent part in the scenes which he describes.
But wait, it's not over with them yet. "The bone of contintion that got, between them and our faction was this circumstance; their lands and ours were divided by a river that ran down from the high mountains of Slieve Boglish, and, after a coorse of eight or ten miles, disembogued itself, first into George Duffy's mill-dam, and afterwards into that superb stream, the Blackwater, that might be well and appropriately appellated the Irish Niger.
M'Cormick immediately pulled Duffy's coat, without speaking a word, as a hint to follow him with as little noise as possible, which he did, and ere many minutes they were so far in advance of the others, as to be enabled to converse without being heard. "Thar Bheah Duffy," said his companion, "there's not a minute to be lost." "There is not," replied the other "but what will you do with me?
They saddled their horses and cut across the hills straight for Eldara. Kilrain spurred viciously, and the roan had hard work keeping up. "Hold in," called Nash after a time. "Save your hoss, Shorty. This ain't no short trail. D'you notice the hosses when we was in the barn?" "Nope." "Bard took Duffy's grey, and the grey can go like the devil.
Mitchel was opposed and it was the only ground on which it could be opposed; with sincerity or success. The use, therefore, which was made of the resolutions on Mr. Duffy's trial was false and unsustainable in every point of view. There is no disposition and no desire to quarrel with the line of defence adopted by Mr. Duffy.
Duffy's section was not so badly off now because they had sunk themselves hip deep, and the earth they threw out in a parapet gave extra protection. But it was harder work for them now because they stood in soft mud and water well above the ankles.
So the boys listened and learned and laughed, and, as spring crept up the calendar, their only regret at the return of the ball season was that the club meetings would be over until next autumn. It was late in April when little Jimmy Duffy's father was called to Buffalo on business. The night before leaving, he said: "It's most annoying!
Why He Would Like It The little son of the minister, at Sunday dinner, said at the family table: "Father, I wish I could be 'a doorkeeper in the House of the Lord, as you said this morning." "Indeed," said the minister-father, with a pleased look across the table at his wife. "Yes," said the boy, "for then I wouldn't have to listen to the sermon." Why Mr. Duffy's Nose was Red The late Mr.
To gain the good graces of the bartender he invited all in the place to drink, to which invitation all readily responded save Mr. Duffy. The drummer went to him, and slapping him on the shoulder, said: "I say, old man, what are you going to have?" "I thank you, sir-r, but I niver dhrink," was Duffy's quiet reply. "What, you never drink?" said the drummer with a sarcastic laugh.
Pretty soon the boys were singing "Bingo," "Upidee," "Nellie Was a Lady," and other college songs. Every one of them seemed familiar with "Paddy Duffy's Cart" and its pretty chorus: "Twinkling stars are laughing, love, Laughing on you and me, While your bright eyes look into mine, Peeping stars they seem to be."
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