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Updated: May 20, 2025
I bet you you're not game, when you see that tulip I've been tellin' you about, to take her in your arms and kiss her. A fiver on it!" "Done!" cried Mahony. "And I'll have it in one note, if you please!" "Bravo!" cried Purdy. "Bravo, Dick!"
His customary arrogance and pompousness of manner were laid aside. For the nonce, he was a simple man among men. Then espying them, he hurried over, and rubbing his hands with pleasure said warmly: "My dear Mahony, this is indeed kind! Jerry, my lad, how do, how do? Still growing, I see! We'll make a fine fellow of you yet.
Warding off the attack of a big, fierce, dirty dog, which sprang at her, dragging its paws down her dress, Polly waited while her husband undid the door, then followed him through a chaos, which smelt as she had never believed any roofed-in place could smell, to a little room at the back. Mahony lighted the lamp that stood ready on the table, and threw a satisfied glance round.
He, Richard Mahony, giving his sanction to these queasy tricks! It was bad enough to know that Ocock at any rate had believed him not averse from winning by unjust means. Yet, on the whole, he thought this mortified him less than to feel that he had been written down a Simple Simon, whom it was easy to impose on. Ah well!
But Purdy was not done; he hummed and hawed and fidgeted; he took off his hat and looked inside it; he wiped his forehead and the nape of his neck. Mahony knew the symptoms. "Come, Dickybird. Spit it out, my boy!" "Yes ... er.... Well, the fact is, Dick, I begin to think it's time I settled down." Mahony gave a whistle. "Whew! A lady in the case?" "That's the chat.
And then one morning it was spring now, and piping hot at noon Long Jim brought home from the post-office a letter for Polly, addressed in her sister Sarah's sloping hand. Knowing the pleasure it would give her, Mahony carried it at once to his wife; and Polly laid aside broom and duster and sat down to read. But he was hardly out of the room when a startled cry drew him back to her side.
Not till they reached the end of the awful journey even a Chinaman rose to impudence about Johnny's nerves, his foul breath, his cracked lips did Mahony learn how the wretched boy had come by the money for his debauch.
It WAS tactless of her, even Polly felt that; though she could sympathise with the worry that prompted the words. As for Mahony, had he had the money to do it, he would have flung the sum named straight at her head. "She must never come again," said Polly to herself, as she bent over the hair-chain she was making as a gift for John.
Mustn't let 'er catch me sayin' so, though; she won't 'ear a word against 'em, and that's as it should be." Looking round, and finding Polly absent from the room, she went on to tell Mahony how Polly's eldest brother, a ten years' resident in Melbourne, had sent to England for the girl on her leaving school, to come out and assist in keeping his house.
From Derrynane the road passes along the coast, and through Sneem to Derryquin, the estate of that typical landlord, Mr. F.C. Bland, beyond whose lands lie those of Mr. Mahony, of Dromore, the apostle of concrete and author of a pamphlet which has made a great noise in Ireland, and is accepted by "improving" landlords as stating their case perfectly. Mr.
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