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Updated: June 29, 2025
Mike Shane, the third of the trio of Irish laborers in Neale's corps, was a little runt of a sandy-haired wizened man, and he spoke up: "Begorra, he's wan of thim Texas Jacks. He'd loike to kill yez, Pat Casey, an' if he ever throwed thot cannon at yez, why, runnin' 'd be slow to phwat yez 'd do." "I niver run in me loife," declared Casey, doggedly. Neale went his way.
An' now he'll lay fer a chanst to git aven. Ut's th' besht ye c'n do loike he says, kape th' two eyes av ye to th' front an' moind yer own business only kape wan eye behint ye to look out fer throuble. Phwat fer job did he give yez?" "I am to start swamping, whatever that is, for the big Swede." The Irishman grinned. "Oi thoucht so; an' may God have mercy on yer sowl."
"Mister Temple, he owns th' buildin' an' he hed it cleared out, 'n' now he leaves them Red Cross ladies use it fer ter make bandages 'n' phwat all, 'n' collect money fer their campaign. He's a ghrand man, Mister Temple. Would ye gimme a lift wid this here table, now, while ye're here, Tommy?"
Dropping the cane, she rushed into the bedroom, and retreated underneath the bed, whither she well knew Riley's infirmities would not permit him to follow. "Come out o' there," the old man commanded, close behind her. "It's lovely under here," the child answered; "I'd rather stay." "Phwat in th' name o' Hiven have ye been doin'?"
O'mie obeyed me to the letter, and ended with the query to the good Father: "Now phwat should a couple of young sleuth-hounds do wid such a dacent good Injun?" Father Le Claire's reply stunned the Irish boy. "He just drew himself up a mile high an' more," O'mie related to me, "just stood up like the angel av the flamin' sword, an' his eyes blazed a black, consumin' fire.
The latter said "Yes," and the Judge went on, "I'd like to know if the gintleman has ever personally seen the Catholic Protectoree?" "No, I haven't," said his astonished opponent. "Then, phwat do you mane by talking about its being unconstitootional? It's no more unconstitootional than you are!"
"Och, be the holy mother, Miss Esther, phwat a turn you gave me," said Mary O'Reilly, emerging unexpectedly from the dining-room and meeting her at the foot of the stairs. "Phwat's the matther?" "I'm going out, Mary," she said, her heart beating violently.
Wanst I half-roused, an' begad the noise in my head was tremenjus roarin' and rattlin' an' poundin' such as was quite new to me. "Mother av Mercy," thinks I, "phwat a concertina I will have on my shoulders whin I wake!" An' wid that I curls mysilf up to sleep before ut should get hould on me. Bhoys, that noise was not dhrink, 'twas the rattle av a thrain! There followed an impressive pause.
"Phwat a dom' sthrange way to build a railroad, I sez," he remarked. The gorge lay asleep in the westering sun, silent, full of blue haze. Seen from this height, far above the break where the engineers had first halted, it had the dignity and dimensions of a canon. Its walls had begun to change color in the sunset light.
By God, I'll kill th' man phwat says that!" "Slowly, slowly," James answered, soothingly, thoroughly enjoying his father's amazement and excitement. "That's for them to settle as knows how, but it's to me Mr. Gorham must look to help him out. Now, do you understand where I come in?" "Ah, Jimmie, ye're killin' me wid yer slowness. Out wid it, la-ad! What do they say, an' who done phwat?
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