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Updated: May 13, 2025
"What's ailin' you now?" she cried fiercely. "Want somepin to eat, you say? You want a trouncin', that's what you want!" lifting the little thing with a motion tenderer than her words. "Ain't it all the craziest doin's? But say, Mis' Flaherty, they tells me you won't go into one of the new houses, nohow." "And why should I, tell me thot!" began Mrs.
"It was to him she did run," said Callaghan, "and what's more " "In the second place," said Meldon, "the judge wouldn't have spoken that way to Patsy Flaherty. If he'd wanted to have the car stopped he'd have said, 'Pull up for a minute, my good man, or words to that effect." "Well," said Callaghan, "it might have been that he said.
He must come back for his luggage." "He will not then. It's not an hour ago since Patsy Flaherty, the same that does be driving the car, came in and said he had orders to take all the luggage there was and the fishing-rods, and the rest of whatever there might be in the place belonging to the gentleman." "He was not taking them to the train, I suppose?"
"When did they tell you to come here to-day?" "'Twas yisterday, sir. Miss Julie, she sinds wurrud for me to come this marnin' to clane, as they do be havin' a party last night. Ach, that this thrubble should come!" "There, now, Mrs. Flaherty, never mind your personal feelings. We're in a hurry."
I am going to get the wife! . . " I yelled, all the watch on deck yelled. Crash!" Mr. Powell gasped at the recollection. "It was a Belgian Green Star liner, the Westland," he went on, "commanded by one of those stop-for- nothing skippers. Flaherty was his name and I hope he will die without absolution. She cut half through the old Ferndale and after the blow there was a silence like death.
Ferrall came down and joined us, and spoke to her at once. "Good morning, Mrs. Flaherty. Don't you do anything now, but just what you're told to do. And first, tell us a thing or two. How often do you come here? I've seen you in and out, now and again." "Yes, I do be comin' whin I'm sint for; not of a reg'lar day. Maybe wanst a week, maybe of'ner. Thin agin, not for a fortnight."
The interest was reciprocal; he would have liked a dialogue; he would have welcomed a chance to commence one; and I could at any instant have given him such a chance. I talked at him, it is true; but I talked with Flaherty or Miss Hicks, or to the company at large. Of his separate identity he had no reason to believe me conscious.
He was much older, but though the figure was a little bent and the hair thinner, and the remainder of it snow-white, the same sturdy spirit was in the old man. "They're like boy and girl together, that's what they are," said Flaherty with a tone of regret in his voice. "He seems as much of a child as she is when he's with her," he added.
Ivry Sundah ye'd see him, with his horse an' buggy an' his goold watch an' chain, in front iv th' Sullivans' house, waitin' f'r Mary Ann Sullivan to go f'r a buggy ride with him over to McAllister Place; an' he fin'lly married her, again th' wishes iv Flaherty, who took to histin' in dhrinks, an' missed his jooty, an' was a scandal in th' parish f'r six months.
Apparently they were two souls with but a single thought, for the right hand of each sought the shelf whereon reposed the blue volume entitled "Lloyd's Register." Dan Hicks reached it first, carried it to the counter, wet his tarry index finger, and started turning the pages in a vain search for the American steamer Yankee Prince. Presently he looked up at Jack Flaherty.
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