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Updated: May 21, 2025
Just then the telephone rang insistently. It was McNeill, much excited, though he had not heard of the orange incident. Verplanck answered the call. "Have you heard the news?" asked McNeill. "They report this morning that that fellow must have turned up last night at Belle Aire." "Belle Aire? Why, man, that's fifty miles away and on the other side of the island.
It chanced that at this point Sergeant Hardy, in moving about the place, taking profound interest in all that he saw, came within earshot of the two friends, to whom he at once went up and introduced himself as a friend of Jack Molloy. "Indeed," said he, "Molloy and I fought pretty near to each other in that last affair under General McNeill, so I can give you the latest news of him."
He painted many portraits and figure pieces, and was an active social and artistic influence to the day of his death. As an artist, he lacked training, and remained to the end an amateur of great promise, which was never quite fulfilled. And this brings us to the most eccentric, the most striking, and in some respects the greatest artist of his time James Abbott McNeill Whistler.
As the tale was told over and over again, there came softly from the lips of the only other Irishman in the regiment, Jimmy Coolin, a variant verse of the song that the great McNeill had stopped: "Where is the shame of it, Where was the blame of it, William Connor dear?"
As Captain Freemantle was advancing to find a better place for the gun, he was wounded by a slug, which passed right through his arm, but fortunately was able to continue directing the gun. The Houssas under Captain McNeill were doing little good by their indiscriminate firing, and indeed it was a matter of some difficulty to keep them together.
Jonathan Buck, I should have said. 'Sir, I corrected him, 'if your clients are so numerous that you confuse their names, I must remind you that mine is McNeill. 'Pardon me, he replied, 'you have this morning inherited that of an American citizen who died suddenly last evening in an obscure lodging near the Barriere de Pantin; and, in addition, a passport now waiting for him at the Foreign Office, if you have the courage to claim it.
Careless people made the "Mc" "Mac," and others left the extra "l" off "McNeill." To one of the latter offenders he wrote: "McNeill, by the way, should have two l's. I use them both, and in the midst of things cannot well do without them!" When Tom Taylor, the critic, died, a friend asked Whistler why he looked so glum. "Me?" said Whistler. "Who else has such cause to mourn? Tommy's dead.
The Captain pulled out his watch, allowed them thirty-five minutes, and quietly proceeded with his exposition. As the head of the leading column swung into sight around the base of the foot-hills, he sought in his haversack and drew out a small volume the Pilgrim's Progress and having dog's-eared a page of it inscribed my name on the fly-leaf, "from his kinsman, Alan McNeill."
A Spanish subject by birth, and a Spaniard in all his up-bringing, he traces in the first chapter of his Memoirs his descent from an old Highland family through one Mantis McNeill, a Jacobite agent in the Court of Madrid at the time of the War of Succession, who married and settled at Aranjuez.
"There's Pitt Ripley's school now," and he pointed to where a raft of mackerel were rising and rippling the water black, and heading for the north. "There's another gone down, too they'll dive that fellow. Who is it Al McNeill? yes. But they'll come up again, and when it does, it's ours." And they did come up, and when they did the skipper made a jump and roared, "Into the boat!"
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