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Updated: May 13, 2025
Cecil uttered a feeble yelp as the calf came racing past, waved his arms, and executed a few mild steps towards him attentions which but served to accelerate the Shorthorn's flight. He went by the city lad like a meteor, rendering useless a wild run by Wally, who was just too late to head him. Murty O'Toole uttered a shout of wrath. "Howly Ann! He's lost him!
"How contradictory the tenets of sectarianism!" said Murty. "You, that accuse Catholicity of teaching absurd and incredible doctrines, are yourselves enslaved by the most incredible and contradictory creeds. It is the same in every sect. Take the Methodists, and they are the very contrary of what their name signifies.
They have their faults, as what nation has not? but they have their virtues also." This conversation took place between Paul and Murty in the farm house of Mr. Clarke, where he had just arrived, as well to spend the vacation as to make arrangements regarding the future of his brothers and sister.
Presently Murty O'Toole and Dave Boone came round the corner of the verandah. "Masther Jim gev special insthructions not to be later'n half-past four in takin' y' in, sir," said the Irishman. "The chill do be comin' in the air afther that, says he. An' Miss Norah towld me to be stern wid ye!" "Oh, did she?" said Norah's father, laughing.
Only there'll be an awful row when Jim gets him. I never saw Jim so angry," Norah said. "A good thing, too!" said the warlike Mrs. Brown. "There you are, dearie, an' there's your 'unting-crop. Off you go!" and Norah ran downstairs, finding Jim and Wally waiting, boots and leggings on. They set off, Murty muttering dark threats against Cecil as he shut the gate of the stable yard after them.
Jim looked gratefully round. "You're all bricks," he said. "Has he got a name, Dad?" "'A tearin' foine wan, Murty says," responded his father; "since it's Irish: Garryowen, unless you'd like to change it." "Not me!" said Jim. "I like it." He looked round as the sound of the gong came across the garden. "I say, don't mind me," he said "go into breakfast. I don't want any this morning."
"But it is not so in the cities, Murty," continued Paul; "and it will not be so here long; for now railroads are building, light, and liberality, and, I trust, charity, are extending their influence. We must do our part, by being good, and virtuous, and prudent; try to gain them by our good example, rather than by argumentative or angry discussion.
"Only somehow, it don't seem to fit into Billabong, Mr. Jim!" "So big as that! I say, Murty!" "Yerra, there's room enough for it," grinned the Irishman. "Only, motors and Billabong don't go hand in hand we've always stuck to horses, haven't we, Mr. Jim?" "We'll do that still," Jim said. "But it will be useful, all the same, Murty." He laughed at the stockman's lugubrious face.
"I wish to God I was present," said Murty; "I would settle bread on some of them; that I would, and no mistake," said he, bringing his clenched fist down on the table, "if I heard them insult the minister of Christ in any shape or form. Oh, America! America!" said he, in an undervoice, "I am deceived in you.
Murty came in with a trememdous lot of ferns, and he's been nailing them all on the wall in streaks, and he and Mick Shanahan nearly had a fight 'cause Mick leaned against one of them and the erection came down, and the nail tore Mick's coat. Still, it was Murty who seemed most aggrieved! And the musicians have come out from Cunjee, and they've been practising they can play, too!"
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