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Updated: June 15, 2025
The old negro shook his head, looking uneasily at the froth that dripped from the keg into the dust. "Naw, suh, Marse Plunkett, he's fur de Un'on, but he's pow'ful feared er de Yankees," he returned. Bland broke into a laugh. "Oh, come, that's downright treason," he protested merrily. "Your Marse Plunkett's a skulker sure enough, and you may tell him so with my compliments.
There were Plunkett's books on the table, but of their owner no signs were to be seen. The Mutual Friend had had the good sense to close the window after he had climbed through it, and Dallas did not suspect what had actually happened. He returned to Vaughan. 'The Mutual isn't in either of the studies, he said.
Segnius irritant you know! What disciple of old Plunkett's will ever forget the difference between the demissa per aurem, and "quæ sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus!" I have always maintained that his illustration of this great principle gave Dickens the hint of his Dotheboy's Hall.
In obedience to that odd law, that, the more seedy and soiled a man's garments become, the less does he seem inclined to part with them, even during that portion of the twenty-four hours when they are deemed less essential, Plunkett's clothes had gradually taken on the appearance of a kind of a bark, or an outgrowth from within, for which their possessor was not entirely responsible.
Miss Prue Plunkett's my Sunday-school teacher; and one Sunday when I had a cold, and my neck was so stiff I couldn't move, she said it didn't better those old Jews any to be a stiff-necked race, but it certainly did me. Sometimes Miss Prue talks so't I can't understand just what she means; but Sara likes her first-rate, and so do I too, most generally."
That had been Weatherbee's favorite opera. Sometimes on long Arctic nights, when they were recalling old times and old songs, he himself had taken Plunkett's part to David's Lionel. He could see that cabin now, the door set wide, while their voices stormed the white silence under the near Yukon stars. His eyes gathered their absent expression.
Fur de time bein' de work is jes' to form de ladies' auxiliary an' git de main objec's set fo'th." "Lis'en, chile. Me, I don't aim never so long as I lives an' keeps my reason to jine no lodge w'ich don't start out fust thing by fune'lizin' de daid. Ise thinkin' now of de case of dat pore shif'less Sist' Clarabelle Hardin dat used to live out yere on Plunkett's Hill.
And then, dear," she continued, caressingly, "I don't think it was very nice of me to meddle with your great-grandfather Plunkett's portrait. It was too much in the line of the people who have their ancestors painted to order.
Her grief was all the more impressive, as she was, as a general thing, the balance-wheel of the whole Sweetbriar machinery. "And I don't know what they are a-going to do," she continued to sob. "Well, I know, and I've done decided," came in Mrs. Plunkett's soft voice from the side door of the store, and it held an unwonted note of decision in its hushed cadences.
Flood's movement was dramatic, while Plunkett's was mathematical. In structural arrangement, Shiel, occasionally very occasionally reminds us of Grattan; but if he has not the wonderful condensation of thought, neither has he the frequent antithetical abuses of that great orator.
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