Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 7, 2025
Somers; and he put on a look of severity, which he well knew how to assume, and which somewhat cowed poor Aby. "You have been down here before, I think," continued Mr. Somers. "What, at Castle Richmond? No, I haven't. And if I had, what's that to you if Sir Thomas chooses to see me? I hain't hintruding, I suppose." "You've been down at Kanturk before once or twice; for I have seen you."
He seemed to be thick, and stolid, and incapable of deep inquiry; but, nevertheless, he was as fond of his neighbour's affairs as another, and knew as much about the affairs of his neighbours at Kanturk as any man in the county Cork.
This took place some time before the ladies left Castle Richmond, perhaps as much as three weeks; it was even before Herbert's departure, who started for London the day but one after the scene here recorded; he had gone to various places to take his last farewell; to see the Townsends at their parsonage; to call on Father Barney at Kanturk, and had even shaken hands with the Rev. Mr.
Fanny O'Dwyer had a great respect for her uncle, seeing that he filled an exalted position, and was a connexion of whom she could be justly proud; but, though she had now come down to Kanturk with the view of having a good talk with her aunt and uncle about the Molletts, she would only tell as much as she liked to tell, even to the parish priest of Drumbarrow.
She had been dead these ten years; but he did not the less keep up his connection with the old town, or with his brother-in-law the priest, or with the affairs of the persons there adjacent; especially, we may say, those of his landlord, Sir Thomas Fitzgerald, under whom he still held a small farm, in conjunction with his brother Mick, the publican at Kanturk.
Red Indians, or any other barbarians you can think of, would not have been guilty of wreaking vengeance on the widow of an innocent murdered man, nor of endowing the wives of his assassins. Here is another murder story. A caretaker on an evicted farm on the property of Lord Cork, near Kanturk, was murdered for taking charge of it. The evicted tenant had owed eleven years' rent.
Mollett, therefore, was five hours in the covered car on his return journey; and as he had stopped for lunch at Kanturk, and had not hurried himself at that meal, it was very dark and very cold when he reached the house in South Main Street. I think I have explained that Mr.
Nothing indeed could be better than this, for bills so paid are seldom rigidly scrutinized. But of late, within the last week, Fanny's requests for funds had not been so promptly met, and only on the day before her visit to Kanturk she had been forced to get her father to take a bill from Mr. Mollett senior for 20l. at two months' date.
Here lived a cook, who, together with Tom the waiter, did all that servants had to do at the Kanturk Hotel. From this kitchen lumps of beef, mutton chops, and potatoes did occasionally emanate, all perfumed with plenteous onions; as also did fried eggs, with bacon an inch thick, and other culinary messes too horrible to be thought of.
But the worst of the famine had not come upon them as yet. And then Herbert rode back to Castle Richmond. Mick O'Dwyer's public-house at Kanturk was by no means so pretentious an establishment as that kept by his brother in South Main Street, Cork, but it was on the whole much less nasty.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking