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By the silver hairs of his honour”—and sure enough I never saw hairs more regally silver than those of your honour—“by his honour’s grey silver hairs, and by my own soul, which is not worthy to be mentioned in the same day with one of them—it would be no more than decent and civil to run out and welcome such a father and son coming in at the head of such a Protestant military.” And then my wife, who is from Londonderry, Mistress Hyne, looking me in the face like a fairy as she is, “You may say that,” says she. “It would be but decent and civil, honey.” And your honour knows how I ran out of my own door and welcomed your honour riding in company with your son, who was walking; how I welcomed ye both at the head of your royal regiment, and how I shook your honour by the hand, saying, I am glad to see your honour, and your honour’s son, and your honour’s royal military Protestant regiment.
Tom Jones was and is a popular book. Nevertheless he would have many readers among a large minority, just as Mr. Arnold Bennett has to-day readers who can appreciate a story which is direct, vivid, and mainly external in treatment. But the largest public is for writers like Mr. Cutcliffe Hyne or Mr. William Le Queux. These more nearly represent the popular ideal in a "novel of incident."
And then my wife, who is from Londonderry, Mistress Hyne, looking me in the face like a fairy as she is, "You may say that," says she. "It would be but decent and civil, honey."
By the silver hairs of his honour and sure enough I never saw hairs more regally silver than those of your honour by his honour's gray silver hairs, and by my own soul, which is not worthy to be mentioned in the same day with one of them it would be no more than decent and civil to run out and welcome such a father and son coming in at the head of such a Protestant military. And then my wife, who is from Londonderry, Mistress Hyne, looking me in the face like a fairy as she is, 'You may say that, says she.
So I no sooner saw your honour at the head of your army, with that handsome young gentleman holding by your stirrup, than I said to my wife, Mistress Hyne, who is from Londonderry, “God bless me,” said I, “what a truly Protestant countenance, what a noble bearing, and what a sweet young gentleman.
On the other side of the way is the schoolhouse, in shade of which the military were concealed on the day the Caharagh labourers invaded Skibbereen. A short distance beyond the town, the wooded hill of Knockomagh, rising to a considerable height, overhangs Lough Hyne, one of the most beautiful spots in Ireland.
And now I have you in the house, and right proud I am to have ye one and all; one, two, three, four, true Protestants every one, no Papists here; and I have made bold to bring up a bottle of claret which is now waiting behind the door; and, when your honour and your family have dined, I will make bold too to bring up Mistress Hyne, from Londonderry, to introduce to your honour's lady, and then we'll drink to the health of King George, God bless him; to the "glorious and immortal" to Boyne water to your honour's speedy promotion to be Lord Lieutenant, and to the speedy downfall of the Pope and Saint Anthony of Padua.
So I no sooner saw your honour at the head of your army, with that handsome young gentleman holding by your stirrup, than I said to my wife, Mistress Hyne, who is from Londonderry, "God bless me," said I, "what a truly Protestant countenance, what a noble bearing, and what a sweet young gentleman.
Gibbie, who had thrown himself down on the other bank, and lay listening, at once detected the change in the tone of his utterance, and before he ceased had concluded that he was not reading them, and that they were his own. Rin, burnie! clatter; To the sea win: Gien I was a watter, Sae wad I rin. Blaw, win', caller, clean! Here an' hyne awa': Gien I was a win', Wadna I blaw!
So I no sooner saw your honour at the head of your army, with that handsome young gentleman holding by your stirrup, than I said to my wife, Mistress Hyne, who is from Londonderry, 'God bless me, said I, 'what a truly Protestant countenance, what a noble bearing, and what a sweet young gentleman.
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