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Updated: May 26, 2025
Flanagan disliked each other heartily and never met without using language calculated to embitter the feeling between them. The young Joyces and the young Flanagans fought fiercely on their way to and from school. The war, which has turned Europe upside down and dragged most things from their familiar moorings, had its effect on the lives of the two farmers on the side of Letterbrack.
'It's a crime, says he, 'and a scandal, says he, 'and it's swearing away the liberty of a poor man, says he; and more to that. Now I ask you, Mr. Flanagan, where's the crime and where's the scandal?" "There's none," said Flanagan. "What harm would it have done the lad to be put away for a bit?" "That's what I said to the doctor.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, ma'am!" cried Pollie, holding up her face to kiss the kind woman, who, totally unused to such affectionate gratitude in the poor little waifs about Drury Lane, bent down and returned the caress with a feeling of unwonted tenderness tugging at her heart. "And now, please, I should like a bunch of water-cresses for Mrs. Flanagan," said the child.
"If one were forbidden to look at any picture for more than thirty seconds you'd be a great master, Flanagan," smiled Philip. These young people were not in the habit of spoiling one another with excessive flattery. "We haven't got time in America to spend more than thirty seconds in looking at any picture," laughed the other.
On passing from the barn to the kitchen, he noticed her returning from the well with a pitcher of water in each hand, and as it is considered an act of civil attention for the male servant, if not otherwise employed, to assist the female in small, matters of the kind, so did Flanagan, in his best manner and kindest voice, bid her good-morning and offer to carry home the pitcher.
Flanagan bolted across the ditch, along which they had been going, and disappeared. "A friend," returned Connor, in reply to the question. The other man advanced, and, with a look of deep scrutiny, peered into his face. "A friend," he exclaimed; "faith, it's, a quare hour for a friend to be out. Who are you, eh? Is this Connor O'Donovan?" "It is; but you have the advantage of me."
"I expect," whispered he, "she went after a new pupil and didn't hook him; that's why she's in such a precious tantrum." "Flanagan!" cried the well-known voice "Flanagan, come here!" Flanagan obeyed, and stood meekly before the tyrant. "This is the eighth time to-day, Flanagan, I have rebuked you for talking. You are detained for the rest of the term. Hold out your hand, Flanagan!"
"Arrah! bad luck to you, is it after mocking Judy Flanagan you are, you tafe?" Here she burst into a loud horse-laugh, slapping her legs with both her hands, "You an officer of the old Fogs! ha, ha, ha! Arrah, none of your blarney, honey." "However you may laugh," said I, "I am an officer of the old Fogs, as you call them, and I am come to join them."
From the cloistered garden of the convent uproar reached them, and the metallic voice of Sergeant Flanagan calling loudly for help. The alarm bell of the convent had done its work. The villagers were up, enraged by the outrage, and armed with sticks and scythes and bill-hooks, an army of them was charging to avenge this infamy. The troopers reached the close no more than in time.
Flanagan isn't here to do 'em, and we can't employ the boy, for the little beggar is all day occupied cleaning Pen's boots. And now for another swig at the beer. Pen drinks tea; it's only fit for old women." "And so you were at Lady Whiston's last night," the Major said, not in truth knowing what observation to make to this rough diamond. "I at Lady Whiston's! not such a flat, sir.
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