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Updated: May 14, 2025
Then he handed out his wife, Kathleen, who three years before he had been obliged to steal away from her unkind and foolish parents, and little Master Harry O'Donoghue, a handsome, curly-headed little rogue, who jumped at once with a merry laugh, into the arms and into the hearts of his grandparents.
In her talks with her cronies, she would often speak of "her ladyship, my daughter Kathleen," or "my daughter, the Princess O'Donoghue." This greatly amused some of her neighbors, and they used to question and quiz her without mercy. "And why don't you go and visit your daughter, Mistress More?" asked one "Sure they invite you."
And thus that very evening, whilst Madeleine sobbed on her pillow and Molly was snugly enjoying the warm hospitality of Scarthey, a mounted messenger departed from the Priory to overtake Miss O'Donoghue on the road to Bath and acquaint her with the terrible fatality that had befallen her darling and favourite. DECEMBER 16TH. Again I separate your green boards, my diary.
Every portion of Ireland has its ruins. Earthworks, stone forts, prehistoric monuments, circular stone huts, early churches, abbeys, crosses, round towers, castles of every size and shape are to be found in every county, some one in every parish, all over Ireland. It is almost invidious to name any in particular where the number is so great. By D.J. O'DONOGHUE,
On the 12th day of August, 1848, Meagher was arrested on the road between Clonoulty and Holycross, in Tipperary. He was walking along in company with Patrick O'Donoghue and Maurice R. Leyne, two of his intimate friends and fellow-outlaws, when a party of police passed them by.
Miss O'Donoghue, unable to cope with a state of affairs at once so distressing and so unbecoming, finally retired to her own apartment with a book of piety and some gruel, and abandoned all further endeavour to guide her unruly relations. So that Molly found herself left to her own resources, in the guardianship of René, the only company her misery could tolerate.
"There is." "Thin I'm opposed to it." Much the same was it in the North-West, and the violent, blustering ruffian O'Donoghue was the mouthpiece, the leader, the type of that class of the people. A number of loyal Scotch and English, therefore, did arise, and they were known as the Portage party. This was some months after the night that we last saw Riel thwarted upon the prairies.
When Adrian's voice ceased there was a moment's silence and then the storm burst; whisking herself out of her chair, the umbrella came into play once more. But though it was only to thump the table, it was evident Miss O'Donoghue would more willingly have laid it about the delinquent's shoulders. "Adrian, are you a man at all?" she ejaculated fiercely.
"I'd go up the river," said Dr. O'Donoghue, "and I'd take my rod and landing-net and the salmon with me, and I'd sit down on the bank and wait." "Simpkins," said Doyle, "does be walking up along the river every evening, so the doctor wouldn't be there for very long before he'd be caught." "I see," said Meldon.
Well, one May-day morning, when Barry O'Donoghue had been gone somewhat over a year, Kathleen More went out as usual, to take her early walk; but did not come back again. All day long they searched, far and near, but without obtaining any trace or tidings of her; but just at night, a note was found at the door of Michael's cottage, which ran thus:
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