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Updated: June 4, 2025
You, yourself, have heard the horns and dodged the capers of the Saturnalians. "Pigeon" McCarthy, Black Riley, and "One-ear" Mike held a hasty converse outside Grogan's. They were narrow-chested, pallid striplings, not fighters in the open, but more dangerous in their ways of warfare than the most terrible of Turks. Fuzzy, in a pitched battle, could have eaten the three of them.
Quigg's failure to coax away one of Tom's men ended active operations against Tom, so far as the Union was concerned. It continued to listen to McGaw's protests, but, with an eye open for its own interests, replied that if Grogan's men would not be enticed away it could at present take no further action.
"I come up fer de mont's pay," he said coolly to Babcock, the corner of his eye glued to Lathers. "De ole woman said ye'd hev it ready." "Mrs. Grogan's?" asked the bookkeeper, shuffling over his envelopes. "Yep. Tom Grogan." "Can you sign the pay-roll?" "You bet" with an eye still out for Lathers.
A strapping young fellow in a red shirt came out of the stable door leading two other horses to the trough. Babcock looked about him in surprise at the extent of the establishment. He had supposed that his stevedore had a small outfit and needed all the work she could get. If, as McGaw had said, only boys did Grogan's work, they at least did it well. Crane mounted the porch first and knocked.
Irritable and upset, Brian went out upon the porch. The straggling cluster of shacks around the rude store were dark. Grogan's weary men found bed early. The moonlight was calm and cold and weirdly bright. A wind mournful with the rustle of dead leaves came sharply from the trees behind the shack where by day the autumn sun touched russet into gold and scarlet. A bleak spot up here!
I don't know what Duffy will get out of it; perhaps he gets a few dollars out of the hauling. The coal is shipped, by the way, and ought to be here any minute." "Wait; I'll go with you," said Babcock, handing him an order for more coal. "She hasn't sent down the tally-sheet for my last scow." There was not the slightest necessity, of course, for Babcock to go to Grogan's house for this document.
Grogan's house and stables lay just over the brow of this hill, in a little hollow. The house was a plain, square frame dwelling, with front and rear verandas, protected by the arching branches of a big sycamore-tree, and surrounded by a small garden filled with flaming dahlias and chrysanthemums. Everything about the place was scrupulously neat and clean.
He had liked Tom from the first time he saw her, he had looked after her stables professionally, and he did not intend to see her, dead or alive, thrown out, without making a fight for her. "I move," said he, "that the president appoint a committee of this board to jump into the nearest wagon, drive to Mrs. Grogan's, and find out whether she is still alive.
He turned to Stephen and asked in a fine puzzled voice, lifting his brows: Can you recall, brother, is mother Grogan's tea and water pot spoken of in the Mabinogion or is it in the Upanishads? I doubt it, said Stephen gravely. Do you now? Buck Mulligan said in the same tone. Your reasons, pray? I fancy, Stephen said as he ate, it did not exist in or out of the Mabinogion.
"Well!" she continued, "I jumps into me bonnet yisterday, and over I goes to the fort; an' I up an' says to Duffy, 'I can't wait for the quartermaster. When's that coal a-comin'? An' he says, 'In a couple of weeks. An' I turned onto him and says: 'Ye're a pretty loafer to take the bread out of Tom Grogan's children's mouths! An' ye want Dan McGaw to do the haulin', do ye?
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