Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 29, 2025
Two veteran corporals had stepped up to an additional stripe vice Daly killed and McGrath missing in September. Some new corporals had been "made." None of those whom Davies best knew and most noticed during the summer were among them. He missed two or three of the old hands and asked for them. Sergeant Lutz had gone to the agency.
Miss McGrath hadn't been spying, of course, because her room was at the back of the house, beyond the kitchen, but how did the little heel tracks get on the veranda roof? the road dust on the matting under the window? the vine twigs in that "quare" made skirt never worn by day?
McGrath when that gentleman remarked, "Begorra! but it's illigant sport it'd be if the bass 'ud only bite at them things!" "Bite at them?" said I, turning round: "of course they'll bite at them." "Sorra bit will they, sorr. It's just wondherin' they are if them things up above is good to ate, but they're too lazy to step up an' inquire. Augh, be me sowl! but it's the thruth I tell you.
Rathbawne!" echoed McGrath, flashing into that passionate manner of his which carried all before it. "Mr. Rathbawne, who's starving you! Mr. Rathbawne, who's making your sons drunkards! Mr. Rathbawne, who's debauching your daughters! Mr. Rathbawne, who's killing your wives by inches! Mr. Rathbawne, and Mr. John Hamilton Barclay, Lieutenant-Governor of Alleghenia!"
McGrath had fallen to my lot, and my companion had a darkey named Pete. We were to go up the canal some four miles, and then, launching the boats into the river, were to fish slowly down with the current. We had a horse and tow-rope, and a small boy, mounted on the animal, started off at a smart trot. It was quite exhilarating, and the boats dashed along merrily at a capital rate.
Mabel Larken is a very pretty girl. But wait till I tell you what Kit Monaghan said to me yesterday. I'm going to be married, sir, says he to me. Ay, so you mintioned to me a fortnight ago, Kit, says I to Rose Dermod, isn't it? says I. Not at all, sir, says he it is to Peggy McGrath, this time.
At the same moment, about a hundred and fifty feet away, a splendid fish leaped high and clear out of the water with the line dangling from his mouth. Mr. McGrath had struck him fairly, and away he went across stream as hard as he could tear. "Take the rod, sorr, while I get the landing-net. Kape a tight line on him, sorr: niver let him deludher ye. It's an illigant mikroptheros he is, sure!"
"Much good may it do ye," she said. "Thank ye kindly, 'Liza, sit down an' haave a bowl of broth!" It was baled out and Eliza sat down on the floor near the window. McGrath, the rag man, "dhrapped in." "Much good may it do ye!" he said. "Thank ye kindly, Tom," Anna said, "ye'll surely have a bowl ov broth." "Jist wan spoonful," McGrath said.
Mac was a bibulous veteran at times, a circumstance of which place-hunters were not slow to take advantage on those rare occasions of the owner's home-coming, and many a time did the major receive confidential intimation from the Sheehans, Morriseys, and Meiswinkles in service in the neighborhood that McGrath was neglectful of his patron's premises and over-given to the flowing bowl; but in Mrs.
Dubois, the women of the neighborhood had arrayed Patrick McGrath, very properly, in a clean shirt of his accustomed wearing apparel, so arranging it that the folds of the red tunic could be lifted in order to expose to those who came to look upon him the wound he had received. There he lay, the rude smuggler, turned gently upon his side, one cheek pressing the pillow.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking