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Updated: June 28, 2025
It was not so strange that holidaying boys should play games; the amazing feature of the performance was that Peep O'Day, a man old enough to be grandfather to any of them, played with them, being by turns an Indian chief, a robber baron, and the driver of a stagecoach attacked by Wild Western desperadoes.
I didn't approve of their plans at all, so the only thing left for me to do was to say what I thought about it. It is news to me that being indignant and expressing yourself rather well, rather forcibly, is noble and generous. Though," dryly, "I'm rather glad it is so, for it will be easy for me to be noble in that fashion." Miss O'Day turned to look closely at her.
Jacob Cannon staggered to the fence at the head of the wharf, and caught there a moment, and fell dead. "You scoundrel," screamed Isaac Cannon from the window, "to kill my brother, my executive comfort." "Yes," answered O'Day, "and I'll give the other barrel to you!" As Isaac Cannon barricaded himself in, Owen O'Day collected his effects without hurry, and betook himself to the wilds of Missouri.
Every minute counts! Won't you telephone?" Dr. Morgan obeyed the peremptory request. She believed that news of the strike had affected Nora until she did not know what she was about. She would accede to her request, and perhaps by the time the horses were at the Hall, Miss O'Day would listen to reason.
Elizabeth had paid little attention to them. Her eyes were on the new country about her. "It must be nearly dinner-time," exclaimed Landis, as the carriage turned in at the entrance to the campus. "The girls are all out. I hope we'll be in time to go down with them. But we'll have to go in and do the 'polite' with Miss Morgan." "Nora O'Day is back," exclaimed Miss Kean.
He spoke socialistically of the advisability of an equal division; failing to make any impression here he mentioned the subject of a loan at first hopefully, but finally despairingly. When he was done Peep O'Day, in a perfectly colourless and unsympathetic voice, bade him good-by not good night but good-by!
In the form of certain bills of exchange the estate left by the late Daniel O'Day, of the town of Kilmare, in the island of Ireland, was on a certain afternoon delivered over into Judge Priest's hands, and by him, in turn, handed to the rightful owner, after which sundry indebtednesses, representing the total of the old Judge's day-to-day cash advances to O'Day, were liquidated.
"And, John, dear, don't forget that sewing-machine oh, yes, I see, you've got it in the wagon go on wid ye, then! Well, Mr. O'Day, how is it? Purty small and cramped, ain't it? And there's a chair missin' that I took downstairs, which I'll put back. And there's a cotton cover belongs to the table. Won't suit, will it?" and a shade of disappointment crossed her face.
"And what makes you think so, Mistress Kitty?" he asked, trying to speak casually, not daring to look at her for fear she would detect the tremor on his lips, wondering all the time at her interest in the subject. "It ain't for thinkin', Mr. O'Day, it's just seein' what goes on every day, and it sets me crazy.
In preparing this article we are indebted for information to the firm of H.R. Worthington, to General Manager O'Day, of the National Transit Co., to the editor of the Derrick of Oil City, Pa., and to numerous engineering friends. Engineering News. By GEORGE WARDMAN.
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