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Updated: May 22, 2025
It was a most extraordinary sign; and having a little unemployed imagination I began to speculate on how Keen & Co. might operate, and I wondered a little, too, that, the conditions of life in this city could enable a firm to make a living by devoting itself exclusively to the business of hunting up missing people." Kerns paused, partly to light a cigarette, partly for diplomatic reasons.
"Very fine," said Kerns admiringly. "Too bad it's due to the Burgundy." "Never mind what my eloquence is due to," retorted Gatewood, "the fact remains that this is probably your last bachelor dinner. Kerns, old fellow! Here's to her! Bless her! I I wish sincerely that we knew who she is and where to send those roses. Anyway, here's to the bride!"
"Well, then, I'll fetch them kerns and citron right out here on the kitchen porch. The sun's off it now, and there ain't a prettier spot on earth where to prepare Christmas fixin's. I'll fetch the raisins and stone 'em myself. That Pasky boy'd eat more'n half of 'em, if I left 'em to him. Then we can visit right sociable; and I can free my mind.
"I was going to say that I know a girl," continued Gatewood, "who is just the sort of a girl you " "No, she isn't!" said Kerns, wheeling to resume his progress toward the cloakroom. "Tom!" Kerns halted. "You're a fine specimen!" commented Gatewood scornfully.
So all embracing a mind as that of the greatest English dramatist could not fail to be interested in the gossip that must have been current in London at the time of the wars in Ulster. References to kerns and gallowglasses are fairly frequent.
His gory head was presented to Captain Piers, who hastened with it to Dublin, where he received a reward of a thousand marks for his success. High spiked upon the towers of the Castle, that proud head remained and rotted; the body, wrapped in a Kerns saffron shirt, was interred where he fell, a spot familiar to all the inhabitants of the Antrim glens as "the grave of Shane O'Neil."
Besides, men don't do that; men don't curl up and blight. Besides, men don't take any stock in big-eyed, flat-chested, red-headed pipe stems. Why do you think that Kerns ever cared for her?" "I know he did." "How do you know it?" "From Marjorie's letters." "The conceited kid! Well, of all insufferable nerve!
"I'll write the address for you, anyway," rejoined Kerns, scribbling it and handing the card to his friend. Then he went down the stairs, several at a time, eased in conscience, satisfied that he had done his duty by a friend he cared enough for to breakfast with.
"Let me see," reflected Gatewood; "you'll need a silver service when you're married. . . . Well, say, forks and spoons and things against an imported trap gun twelve-gauge, you know." "Done. Go and telephone to your friend, Mr. Keen." And Kerns pushed the electric button with a jeering laugh, and asked the servant for a dinner card. Gatewood, in the telephone booth, waited impatiently for Mr.
This maneuver, and the slightest pressure of her shoulder, obliged her husband to begin a turning movement, so that Kerns might reasonably make his escape in the middle of Gatewood's sentence; which he did with nimble and circumspect agility.
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