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Updated: May 27, 2025
"Just a word, Kate; I don't know whether she has any money or not, but I 'll pay her bill, as soon as it is safe for me to come back." "Oh, the divil take her bill. She'll have the best in the house, annyhow, an' Oi'm only hopin' that fellow will turn up huntin' her. Oi'd loike ter take one slap at the spalpane." Fully convinced as to Mrs.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, with a sigh of relief, "but this oiland as Oi'm talkin' about is unbeknownst, so av coorse it won't be drawed on the chart. That's all right, misther; you navigate the brig to that place, and you'll find an oiland there, safe enough." "But, supposing that we do not," I suggested; "supposing that your information happens to be incorrect; what then?"
"Come, come, jintlemin," called the Irish lad, sharply. "Take yer positions, fer Oi'm goin' t' give th' worrud." "This is your last chance to run away, Dutchy," faltered Ephraim, who seemed to be losing confidence. "Dis vos your lasd obbortunity to abologize, Yankee," said Hans, rather weakly. "Ready to foire at th' worrud," called Barney.
"Ben he must think," said the Indian. "He must have time to make up him mind." "Take yer toime, me bhoy," nodded O'Toole, in his pleasantest manner; "but don't yez fergit Oi'm yer friend, an' it's fer your good Oi'm advisin' ye.
"You live with your daughter, Mrs. Grogan?" Babcock asked in a friendly way, turning to the old man. "Yis, sor. Whin Tom got sick, she sint fer me to come over an' hilp her. I feeds the horses whin Oi'm able, an' looks after the garden, but Oi'm not much good." "Is Mr.
"Oi don't a ack loike it, you hic you couldn't tell it on me, b-but Oi Oi Oi'm drunk, aw roight." "I theenk Greer ees in the cook's galley," smiled Deschaillon, who appeared to be rational; then he added coolly: "Eef there ees any fighting, I weel help you, Meester Madden." "Cook's galley!" sputtered Mulcher. "'E's drinkin' hit ever' drop, lads; come on!" "An' th' grub, too!" added Hogan.
The minute I've done me taties it's down in the laundry Oi'm goin', an' Oi'll not bother ye at all; but here, take this schmall, little candle wid ye whan ye go in, fer it's that dhark ye'll not see yer hand forninst ye," and she caught up a candle from the shelf. "No, no! I don't want any light; the darker it is the better." "It's crackin' yer head aff ye'll be."
"Look sharp, lads!" cried the corporal, hurrying us on to where we had left the master-at-arms. "There's `cooks to their messes, and you're just in time for dinner." "Dinner, faith!" ejaculated Mick Donovan. "Oi'm the boy for ye, begorrah. Where shall we go, sor, for to git it? Sure, the docther, God bless him!
Barney Ghegan eventually recovered, and resumed his duties on the police force. He often said, "Oi'm proud to wear the uniform that Misther Merwyn honored." I have now only to outline the fortunes of Captain Lane and "Missy S'wanee," and then to take leave of my reader, supposing that he has had the patience to accompany me thus far.
But Oi'm thinkin' niver befoor was Oi closter to th' roight place at th' roight toime thin a minit agone. "Whisky is made to be dhrank fer a pastime av enj'ymint not alone wid a laugh loike that. Ye've got th' crayther on th' run, but ye must give no quarter. Battles is won not in th' thruse, but in th' foightin'.
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