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Updated: June 16, 2025


The fact is monstrous, and demands the immediate and serious interference of the legislature." "It is a burning shame," said I, fully alive to the manifold advantages of a premium. "I'll tell you what, Dunshunner," rejoined M'Corkindale, "it's no use going on in this way. We haven't shown half pluck enough. These fellows consider us as snobs because we don't take the bull by the horns.

"Now," said Bob, "it's quite indispensable, as this is a Highland line, that we should put forward a chief or two. That has always a great effect upon the English, whose feudal notions are rather of the mistiest, and principally derived from Waverley." "Why not write yourself down as the laird of M'Corkindale?" said I. "I dare say you would not be negatived by a counter-claim."

Accordingly, I gave M'Corkindale an unlimited invitation to my lodgings; and, like a good hearty fellow as he was, he availed himself every evening of the license; for I had laid in a fourteen-gallon cask of Oban whisky, and the quality of the malt was undeniable. These were the first glorious days of general speculation.

The anemone of the garden differs scarcely more from its unpretending prototype of the woods than Robert M'Corkindale, Esq., Secretary and Projector of the Glenmutchkin Railway, differed from Bob M'Corkindale, the seedy frequenter of "The Crow."

What this system was, I never clearly understood; but, of course, none of us had any objections. This circumstance gave an additional impetus to the shares, and they once more went up. I was, however, too cautious to plunge a second time in to Charybdis, but M'Corkindale did, and again emerged with plunder. When the time came for the parliamentary contest, we all emigrated to London.

It is a great consolation, amid all the evils of life, to know that, however bad your circumstances may be, there is always somebody else in nearly the same predicament. My chosen friend and ally, Bob M'Corkindale, was equally hard up with myself, and, if possible, more averse to exertion. Bob was essentially a speculative man that is, in a philosophical sense.

"By order of the Provisional Committee, "ROBERT M'CORKINDALE, Secretary." "There!" said Bob, slapping down the prospectus on the table with as much triumph as if it had been the original of Magna Charta, "what do you think of that? If it doesn't do the business effectually, I shall submit to be called a Dutchman.

The fact is monstrous, and demands the immediate and serious interference of the legislature." "It is a burning shame," said I, fully alive to the manifold advantages of a premium. "I'll tell you what, Dunshunner," rejoined M'Corkindale, "it's no use going on in this way. We haven't shown half pluck enough. These fellows consider us as snobs, because we don't take the bull by the horns.

We were also threatened with the presence of the M'Closkie and Vich-Induibh; but M'Corkindale, entertaining some reasonable doubts as to the effect which their corporeal appearance might have upon the representatives of the dissenting interest, had taken the precaution to get them snugly housed in a tavern, where an unbounded supply of gratuitous Ferintosh deprived us of the benefit of their experience.

Accordingly I gave M'Corkindale an unlimited invitation to my lodgings; and, like a good hearty fellow as he was, he availed himself every evening of the license; for I had laid in a fourteen-gallon cask of Oban whisky, and the quality of the malt was undeniable. These were the first glorious days of general speculation.

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