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Updated: June 17, 2025


Incidentally three editions, aggregating 10,000 copies, were called for within fifteen days. In his new book Mr. MacGill still deals with the underworld he knows so well. He tells of a life woven of darkest threads, full of pity and pathos, lighted up by that rare and quaint humour that made his first book so attractive.

His characters are mostly real persons, and their sufferings, the sufferings of women burdened and oppressed with wrongs which women alone bear, are a strong indictment against a dubious civilisation. The Autobiography of a Navvy. By PATRICK MACGILL. Crown 8vo. Price 6/. Inland Postage 5d. extra. MANCHESTER GDN. "A grand book." GLOBE "A living story." D. CITIZEN "Still booming!"

Upon this promise, Macgill pursued the messenger, and either killed, or stopped him; and his posterity, till very lately, held the lands in Mull. The alarm being thus prevented, he came unexpectedly upon Macneil. Chiefs were in those days never wholly unprovided for an enemy.

The following Sunday evening she was invited to the O'Neills' for supper, and the Reverend MacGill was invited too. The knowledge of this interesting meeting impending made it possible for her to view Genevieve and Arthur, again out on a Sunday afternoon stroll, with a certain equanimity.

"Well," she said, "it's just that Arthur is under a kind of wrong influence if you know what I mean." "Yes, I know that influences count for a good deal," answered father in the serious way she loved in him. Father DID understand more than most grown-ups. And Reverend MacGill was like him in that. She found time fleetingly to wish that Reverend MacGill were in some way related to her.

He died there in 1679. His eldest daughter and co-heiress, Arabella Susanna, married, in 1683, Sir John Macgill, of Gill Hall, in the county Down. Between that and 1693 two daughters were born, but no son to inherit the ample landed estates of his father, who most anxiously wished and hoped for an heir.

Farther in advance are Hindoos, and Turks, who are religious, but not exclusively. Still farther on the way are Spaniards and Irish; here, for example, is a flashlight of the Irish peasantry, given by one of their number, Patrick MacGill: The merchant was a great friend of the parish priest, who always told the people if they did not pay their debts they would burn for ever and ever in hell.

And with Rev. MacGill standing there hearing and seeing! Tears rolled down over her blushes. "Here, I'll help you get her out," said Rev. MacGill, kindly. Missy blessed him for his kindness, yet, just then, she felt she'd rather have been stung to death than to have had him there.

As the minutes went by, her strain of suspense gradually lessened. Rev. MacGill was chatting away easily about the delicious chicken-stuffing and quince jelly, and the election, and the repairs on the church steeple, and things like that. Now and then he caught Missy's eye, but his expression for her was exactly the same as for the others no one could suspect there was any secret between them.

Robin Finnie and Sandy Macgill were like to die of laughing; but fearing the wrathful ram might dunt out the bowels or the brains, if he had any, of the poor young cavalier, they opened the door, and so delivered him from its horns.

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