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Updated: June 18, 2025
There he knew he could think more calmly upon the steps necessary to his liberation than he could in a crowd which was enlarging every moment, on its being understood that Finnerty, the celebrated highwayman, had been at length taken. Not that the crowd gave expression to any feeling or ebullition that was at all unfriendly to him.
"The Ahernes, sir, up in the mountains behind Lisnagola beyant." "And who recommended you to Mr. Arthur?" "His brother-in-law, sir, one Frank Finnerty, in the mountains above; that is, they're both marrid upon the two shisthers, plaise your honor." "And what caused you to leave your native place?" "Why, sir, my father houlds a bit o' land; he owed some tithe, sir, and "
Is my son aquil to the others, that came to pass your lordship?" asked Denis. "There is none of them properly qualified," said the Bishop. "If there be any superiority among them your son has it. He is not without natural talent, Mr. Finnerty; his translations are strong and fluent, but ridiculously pedantic. That, however, is perhaps less his fault than the fault of those who instructed him."
On the eve of his departure, old Denis invited Father Finnerty, his curate and about a dozen relations and friends, to dine with him the next day; when Denis having surmounted the last obstacle to the accomplishment of his hopes their hearts could open without a single reflection to check the exuberance of their pride, hospitality, and happiness.
"He was pretty well broke wid me, I know," replied Denis, "and I'm afear'd you've given him into the hands of some one that knows little about horses. Mave," he shouted, passing the kitchen door, "here's Father Finnerty go in, Docthor, and put big Brian Buie out o' the corner; for goodness sake Exltimnicate him from the hob an' sure you have power to do that any way."
Finnerty, however, was a dark, unsocial man, who knew that he was not liked in the country, and who, on his part, paid back to society its hatred of him with interest.
The night, we have said, had set in, and the mist was clearing, or had altogether cleared away. Up far in these mountains lived a herd, or caretaker and gamekeeper, all in one, named Frank Finnerty. He was a man of bad character gloomy, sullen, and possessed of very little natural feeling.
It was this hint which made him feel certain, for the first time, that he was in imminent danger. Half an hour had now elasped, and it was evident, from the listening attitudes and frequent stortings of Finnerty, that the debate in the lodge was high and serious.
I cannot, however, but thank Father Finnerty for his ingenious and learned toast, which does equal honor to his head and heart, and I might superadd, to his intellects also; for in drinking toasts, my friends, I always elaborate a distinction between strength of head and strength of intellect.
Now, my introduction of this, in the middle of my narrative, is what the hypercritics call a Parenthesis, which certainly betrays no superficial portion of literary perusal on my part, if you could at all but understand it as well as Father Finnerty, our Worthy parochial incumbent, does.
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