United States or Hungary ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
In Belfast, you speak of the Lagan ... never of the river. The same in Dublin. They speak of the Liffey ... never of the river. John's become a Londoner. He knows the proper way to speak of the Thames!" "London seems to be full of very conceited and unneighbourly people," Mrs. MacDermott said. John demanded information of his mother. How were Uncle William and Mr.
Crozier and Dr. Bernard to both of whom the democratic constitution of their Church had given great experience in management of business and discussion. Dr. MacDermott, Moderator of the Presbyterian General Assembly, was the official head of his Church for the year only and had not equal knowledge of administration.
"Are you a Catholic?" "No. I'm a Presbyterian." "It's a Catholic name," she mused. "I know a family by the name of MacDermott, and they're desperate Catholics. They live over in Ballymacarrett. Do you know them?" "I do not. There never was a person in our family was a Catholic ... not that we have mind of. Will you come with me?" "Ooh, I couldn't!"
MacDermott led him to the cradle where the baby was sleeping, and as he looked down on it, the child awoke and screwed up its face and began to cry. Mrs. MacDermott took it in her arms and soothed it. "Well?" she said to John. He looked at the child with puzzled eyes. "Is it all right?" he asked. "All right!" she exclaimed. "Of course, it's all right! What would be wrong with it?"
Johnny Gafferty was rubbing down a tall bay mare when Mrs. MacDermott opened the stable door and entered the loose box. "Johnny," she said, "you'll put the cob in the governess cart this afternoon and have him round at three o'clock. I'm going up to the station to meet my nephew. I've had a letter from his father to say he'll be here to-day."
She stood before him in an indecisive attitude.... "You're really a fool," she said, turning away. "I thought you were clever, but you're simply thick-headed!..." "Because I won't start making love to you, I suppose?" "Oh, no, Mr. MacDermott. You're thick apart from that. You're so thick that you'll never know how thick you are. I can't think why I wasted a minute's thought on you!..."
MacDermott when she returned from hunting which surprised her a good deal. "The young gentleman, ma'am," he said, "was round in the stable this morning, shortly after you leaving. And nothing would do him only for me to saddle the bay for him." "Did you do it?" "What else could I do," said Gafferty, "when his heart was set on it?"
On her feet were a pair of rubber boots which reached up to the hem of her skirt, perhaps further. She was comfortably indifferent to rain and mud. If you reckon the years since she was born, Mrs. MacDermott was nearly forty. But that is no true way of estimating the age of man or woman.
"I know you never thought anything of my work," he complained, "and Eleanor doesn't think much of it either. I get little encouragement from any of you!" "You get encouragement," Mrs. MacDermott retorted, "when you've earned it. It's no use pulling a poor mouth to me, my son. I come from a family that never asked for pity, and I married into one that never asked for pity.
I retired to my apartment to report progress, but did not describe the scene minutely, nor mention the fact that I had seen Salemina's ivory-backed hairbrush put to excellent if somewhat unusual and unaccustomed service. Each party in the house eats in solitary splendour, like the MacDermott, Prince of Coolavin.
Word Of The Day