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Updated: June 9, 2025
I had just time to cry, 'Clear out, lads, when it came slap in through the doorway, and smashed to shivers there, where you see the fragments. In fact, it's a wonderful aerolite, and Mr. Rogan has just gone out with a lot of the bits in his pocket, to make a careful examination of them, and draw up a report for the Geological Society in London.
As this establishment is about three hundred miles from the sea-coast, the order involved a journey of nearly two weeks' duration through a country that was utterly destitute of inhabitants. On receiving a command from Mr Rogan to prepare for an early start.
However, he was eating the leg of a dry grouse at the time, so it didn't make much of a mess. "'Try some fish, Peterkin, said Mr. Rogan kindly, seeing that the youth was ill at ease. 'That old grouse is tough enough to break your knife.
He took a quick step, and reached out his hand for the doorknob. Father Rogan was quicker to arrest it and draw him back. "You use my trust in you queerly," said the priest sternly. "What are you about to do?" "I am going to my wife," said Lorison. "Let me pass." "Listen," said the priest, holding him firmly by the arm.
Here and there little spots of territory had been reconquered. An elderly, bald man, with a superlatively calm, remote eye, stood by a table with a book in his hand, his finger still marking a page. His dress was sombre and appertained to a religious order. His eye denoted an acquaintance with the perspective. "Father Rogan," said Norah, "this is he."
Rogan says it will be some days before he could pronounce him out of danger. 'Can he be removed? Can we take him back with us to Kilgobbin? 'That is utterly out of the question; he cannot be stirred, and requires the most absolute rest and quiet. Besides that, there is another difficulty I don't know if they would permit us to take him away. 'What! do you mean, refuse our bail?
"I must apologize again," said the young man, "for so soon intruding upon you with my marital infelicities, but, as my wife has neglected to furnish me with her address, I am deprived of the legitimate recourse of a family row." "I am quite a plain man," said Father Rogan, pleasantly; "but I do not see how I am to ask you questions." "Pardon my indirectness," said Lorison; "I will ask one.
Father Rogan moved about the room, and donned a soft black hat. Buttoning his coat to his throat, he laid his hand on the doorknob. "Let us walk," he said. The two went out upon the street. The priest turned his face down it, and Lorison walked with him through a squalid district, where the houses loomed, awry and desolate-looking, high above them.
The wharf-boat, which runs up and down an iron tramway, according to the height of the flood, was swarming with negroes, watching with keen delight the departure of the "E. D. Rogan," as she noisily backed out into the river and scattered the crowd with great showers of spray from her gigantic stern-wheel.
Rogan that practical jokes are exceedingly bad, and productive frequently of far more evil than fun, we feel it our duty, as a faithful delineator of manners, customs, and character in these regions, to urge in palliation of the offence committed by the young gentlemen at York Fort, that they had really about as few amusements and sources of excitement as fall to the lot of any class of men.
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