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"Who's that?" said Father Phil. "Hennessy, your reverence." "Very well, Mark. I suppose Matthew, Luke, and John will follow your example?" "We will, your reverence." "Ah! I thought you made a mistake; we'll call you now the Faithful Apostles and I think the change in the name is better than seven and sixpence apiece to you. "I see you in the gallery there, Rafferty.
F'r th' prisint I'll devote me attintion to makin' a noise in th' sthreets an' studyin' human nature." "Ye'd be a lively ol' buck over there," said Mr. Hennessy, admiringly. "Tis a good thing ye can't go." "It is so," said Mr. Dooley. "I'm glad I have no millyonaire rilitives to be depindent on me f'r support whin th' show's over." "I see," said Mr.
So I suppose, Hinnissy, we'll have to stay an' do th' best we can, an' lave Andhrew Carnegie secede fr'm th' Union. They'se wan consolation; an' that is, if th' American people can govern thimsilves, they can govern annything that walks." "An' what 'd ye do with Aggy what-d'ye-call-him?" asked Mr. Hennessy. "Well," Mr.
Hennessy coming in with a doll in his pocket and a rocking-chair under his arm. "Prisints?" said the philosopher. "Yis," said Mr. Hennessy. "I had to do it. I med up me mind this year that I wudden't buy anny Chris'mas prisints or take anny. I can't afford it.
Arthur Lovell was silent: he sat a little way apart from the two others, watching Henry Dunbar. At three o'clock the inquest commenced. The witnesses summoned were the two Irishmen, Patrick Hennessy and Philip Murtock, who had found the body in the stream near St. Cross; Mr.
'Topped th' ball. 'Three up an' two to play. Ah, here's the scoor. 'Among those prisint were Messrs. an' Mesdames" "Hol' on!" cried Mr. Hennessy, grabbing the paper out of his friend's hands. "That's thim that was there." "Well," said Mr. Dooley, decisively, "that's th' goluf scoor." "Th' Fr-rinch," said Mr. Dooley, "ar-re a tumulchuse people." "Like as not," said Mr.
Drum had been sitting at the window during this brief conversation, and at once recognized, under the disguise of a woman, the celebrated informer, the Rev. Mr. Hennessy, a wretch whose criminal course of life, as we said before, was so gross and reprobate that his pious bishop deemed it his duty to suspend him from all clerical functions.
He's too good a man." "He is all iv that," said Mr. Dooley. "But ye bet he knows th' rale platform f'r him is: 'Look at th' bad breaks Mack's made, an' Mack's platform is: 'Ye'd get worse if ye had Billy Bryan. An' it depinds on whether most iv th' voters ar-re tired out or on'y a little tired who's ilicted. All excipt you, Hinnissy. Ye'll vote f'r Bryan?" "I will," said Mr. Hennessy.
Upon my Priesthood it was such a goose as a priest's corpse might get up on its elbow to look at, and exclaim, 'avourneen machree, it's a thousand pities that I'm not living to have a cut at you! ha, ha, ha! God be good to old Friar Hennessy, I have that joke from him. "'Well, Mrs.
Dooley, "if 'twas a crime f'r an American citizen to have his property in his wife's name they'd be close quarthers in th' pinitinchry." "I see," said Mr. Hennessy, "that wan iv thim New York joods says a man in pollytics oughtn't to be marrid." "Oh, does he?" said Mr. Dooley. "Well, 'tis little he knows about it. A man in pollytics has got to be marrid.
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