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Updated: May 19, 2025
Other names recur to me "Speranza", with her lyric fire; Ellen O'Leary, fervent and still patient and wise; Fanny Parnell and her sister. And what of the women of Ireland today? Shall they come short of the high ideal of the past, falter and fail, if devotion and sacrifice are required of them? Never: whilst they keep in memory and honor the illustrious ones of whom I have written.
"And did McDonald marry you in this singular fashion?" He questioned. "Oh, no, we were married by Father O'Leary. Why do you ask?" "Because if he had, I'd have blown his brain out to-morrow." Mrs. Stuart's partner, who had hitherto been silent, coughed and began to twirl his cuff stud nervously, but nobody took any notice of him.
Without pausing to consider this, Dirty Dan, taking the license of a more or less privileged character, queried impudently: "An' are ye glad they sint for ye to come back?" She decided that Mr. O'Leary was inclined to be familiar; so she merely looked at him and her cool glance chilled him. "Becuz if ye are," he continued, embarrassed, "ye have me to thank for it.
O'Leary had overshot her, in his desire to make his missiles reach. Not even a canister had lodged in her spars, or torn her sails. The usual luck appeared to attend her, and the people on board fought with renewed confidence and zeal. Not so with the felucca, however. Here the fire of the English had been the most destructive.
"The geeks were screaming it at you, over on Seventy-second Street, this afternoon. Znidd suddabit; kill the Terrans. That's Rakkeed the Prophet's whole gospel." "So you see," Eric Blount rammed home the moral, "this is just another case of nobody with any right to call anybody else's kettle black.... Cigarette?" "Thank you." She leaned toward the lighter-flame O'Leary had snapped into being.
Mary Thompson, representing the working women; Miss Margaret Foley, a prominent Catholic; a representative of the State W. C. T. U.; Charles J. Hodgson, legislative agent for the American Federation of Labor. The speakers for the Woman's Party were Mrs. Morey, Miss Betty Gram, Michael O'Leary, chairman of the Democratic State Committee, and Mrs. Louise Sykes.
O'Leary presented himself before the proper authorities and applied for a passport to visit Ireland.
O'Leary was, and I am induced to believe is, a particularly short, fat, greasy-looking gentleman, with a head as free from phrenological development as a billiard-ball, and a countenance which, in feature and colour, nearly resembled the face of a cherub, carved in oak, as we see them in old pulpits. Short as is his stature, his limbs compose the least part of it.
He nodded to the auctioneer, and that gentleman nodded responsively before taking up his tale afresh. "Fifty guineas only is offered for the celebrated Irish Wolfhound Tara, by the famous Champion O'Leary. Fifty guineas only is offered, and the time is running merrily on, gentlemen, all the time. Fifty guineas only is offered and one. Fifty-one guineas Thank you, sir.
Before Daney could answer, a terrible suspicion shot through the agile and imaginative O'Leary brain.
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