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Updated: June 22, 2025


"My good woman," said he, "your husband, I trust, is not in such danger. Mr. Clement cannot certainly be long absent, and he will attend; I am not quite well, or I should willingly go myself." "Very well," said the woman, "between you, I suppose, you will let the priest, M'Cabe have him; and then it will be said he died a Papish." "What's that?" inquired Mr.

The retort of the country to the document "Qualecumque de Parnellio," had been, in the phrase then current, to "make Peter's pence into Parnell's pounds." Two years after the Simeoni letter Mr. Errington was again in Rome, attempting this time to secure the exclusion from the successorship to Cardinal M'Cabe, of Dr. Walsh of Maynooth, as Archbishop of Dublin.

Gruppins, Haldane had supposed himself too weary to drag one foot after the other in search of another resting-place; and therefore his eager hope that that obdurate female might not be gifted with the same quality of "in'ards" which Pat M'Cabe ascribed to Mr. Arnot.

When in order to explain what they themselves concede to be "the absence from the popular ranks of the best of the priesthood," Nationalist writers find it necessary to denounce Cardinal Cullen and Cardinal M'Cabe as "anti-Irish "; and to sneer at men like Dr. Healy as "Castle Bishops," it is impossible not to be reminded of the three "patriotic" tailors of Tooley Street.

The word "Crime" only caught Haldane's ear, but the effect was as cold and as chilling as the drip of an icicle. As he hastened up the office steps, Pat M'Cabe scowled upon him, and muttered audibly: "Bad luck till yees! I wish I'd lift ye ablinkin' like an owl where I found ye."

"So, sir," said the priest, "you are on your way to Bob Beatty's, who is, as you know, one of my flock. But how do you expect to get through the business, Mr. Lucre, seeing that you are so long out of practice?" "Bob Beatty was never, properly speaking, one of your flock, Mr. M'Cabe. I must beg leave to ride forward, sir, and leave you to your Christian meditations.

They had not gone far, however, when both chanced to look back at the same moment M'Cabe shook his whip, with a frown, at Darby, who, on the other side, significantly touched the pocket in which he carried his fire-arms, and nodded his head in return.

"Bring your chair near me," said Bob; "where is your hand, my dear sir? Give Me your hand." Poor Bob caught Father Roche's hand in his, and pressed it honestly and warmly. "Bob," said Mr. Lucre, "I don't understand this; in what creed are you disposed to die?" "You see, sir," said M'Cabe, "that he won't die in yours at any rate." "You will not die in my creed!" repeated the parson, astonished.

On getting into the fields they increased their speed; and as the peasantry of both religions were apprised of the circumstances connected with Bob's complaint and conversion, each party cheered on their own champion. "More power to you Father M'Cabe; give him the Latin and the Bravery!" "Success, Mr. Lucre!

Darby's face got pale, with a most deadly expression of rage an expression, indeed, so very different from that cringing, creeping one which it usually wore, that M'Cabe, on looking at him, felt startled, if not awed, intrepid and exasperated as he was. Darby stood and looked at him coldly, but, at the same time, with unflinching fearlessness in the face.

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