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Updated: June 11, 2025
"To me! message to me!" repeated Archibald, turning pale. Archibald knew Major O'Shannon, who had of late insinuated himself into Sir Philip Gosling's favour, had a particular dislike to him, and had successfully bullied him upon one or two occasions.
Archibald had that civil cowardice, which made him excessively afraid of the opinion of the world; and Major O'Shannon, a gamester, who was jealous of his influence over the rich dupe, Sir Philip, determined to entangle him in a quarrel.
"Ye onprincipled black Saxon thief," growled The O'Shannon; "how dare ye take my biscuit?" "You miserable Irish cur," growled Smith; "how was I to know it was your biscuit? Does everything on the floor belong to you? Perhaps you think I belong to you, I'm on the floor. I don't believe it is your biscuit, you long-eared, snubbed-nosed bog-trotter; give it me back."
He has the good-nature of his race: had Smith asked him for the biscuit he would probably have given it to him; it was the insult the immorality of the proceeding, that maddened The O'Shannon. For a moment he was paralyzed. "Well, of all the Did ye see that now?" he said to me with his eyes. Then he made a rush and snatched the biscuit out of Smith's very jaws.
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