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Updated: June 16, 2025
Ella Monahan, cheerful, congratulatory, beaming, met her at the pier, and Fanny was startled at her own sensation of happiness as she saw that pink, good-natured face looking up at her from the crowd below. The month that had gone by since last she saw Ella standing just so, seemed to slip away and fade into nothingness. "I waited over a day," said Ella, "just to see you. My, you look grand!
I hated him for it, as he sat leaning back on the back legs of his chair, his thumbs in his arm-holes. I felt his eyes those smart, keen eyes, burning into my miserable head. I thought of the lawyer and the deal he'd give poor Tom, and all at once You'd have sniffled yourself, Mag Monahan. There I was caught. The cop'd be after me in five minutes.
As I broke the seal, pulled out the cork and unwrapped the cigar from its gold foil he took a stick and rapped loudly on the floor. After a brief interval footsteps were heard on the stairs and Mike Monahan, white aproned and scarlet faced, appeared at the door. "Bobtails," said Mr. Jason, laconically. "It's them I thought ye'd be wanting," said the saloon-keeper, holding out a handful.
There were shirts I'd liked for Tom, dandy colored ones, and suits with checks in 'em and without. But I wanted something easy and small and flat, made of crackly printed yellow or green paper, with numbers on it. How did I know he had anything like that? Why, Mag, Mag Monahan, one would think you belonged to the Bishop's set, you're so simple!
There were cool heads in that crowd of mutineers men who thought of consequences: Poop-deck Cahill, square-faced and resolute, but thoughtful of eye and refined of speech; Seldom Helward, who had shot the captain a man whose fiery hair, arching eyebrows, Roman nose, and explosive language indicated the daredevil, but whose intelligent though humorous eye and corrugated forehead gave certain signs of repressive study and thought; and Bigpig Monahan, already described.
After all, Miss Monahan, this graft of honesty they all preach so much about hasn't anything mysterious in it. All it is, is putting your wits to work according to the rules of the game and not against them.
David F. Simpson and Miss Florence Monahan contributed their services as speakers and $400 were sent to the New Jersey campaign. In October, 1916, at the convention in Minneapolis, a delightful feature was a banquet of 500 covers at the Hotel Radisson, where President George E. Vincent of the State University made his maiden speech for woman suffrage. Mrs. Simpson presided.
"Sit down," countered Mrs. Inche amiably; "don't be afraid I don't bite. Now you know who I am, but before you go, I mean to know who you are." "Michael Monahan, madam." This was the first alliterative combination to pop into his optimistic mind. "Can that," retorted the lady serenely "solder it up tight, along with the business of pretending to be a cop. It won't get you anything.
Why this woeful inferiority of Duff? They are great friends and always play together, and they go through the same performance every time they reach the grounds. The moment Monahan left the train he headed for the club house as if it were on fire and all of his money in its lockers.
As I broke the seal, pulled out the cork and unwrapped the cigar from its gold foil he took a stick and rapped loudly on the floor. After a brief interval footsteps were heard on the stairs and Mike Monahan, white aproned and scarlet faced, appeared at the door. "Bobtails," said Mr. Jason, laconically. "It's them I thought ye'd be wanting," said the saloon-keeper, holding out a handful.
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