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"He didn't look like he'd relish ter be hectored none with sich-like questions es thet, an' I wasn't strivin' ter root inter his private business without he elected of his own free will ter give hit out ter each an' every." Young Pete Doane, the cripple's son, who fancied his own wit, hitched his chair backward and tilted it against the wall.
"Life's on'y a fleetin' show, John, as the sayin' is. We've all got to go, sooner or later. To go with a clean record's the main thing. Fact is, it's the on'y thing worth strivin' for, John." "Yes, that's so, William, that's so; there ain't no getting around it. Which of these lots would you recommend?" "Well, it depends, John. Are you particular about outlook?"
"I gave him a hundred pounds, but not at all as a bribe, sir; I'm an honest man, I trust an' the Lord forbid I'd have anything to do wid a bribe; an' if you an' he knew if you only knew, both o' you the hard strivin, an' scrapin, an' sweepin' I had to get it together " "That will do, sir; be silent. You received this money, Mr. Henderson?"
"'Deed, can't complain," replied Bartle, "as time goes; an' how are you, Fardorougha? although I needn't ax you re takin' care of number one, any how." "I'm middlin', Bartle, middlin'; as well as a man can be that has his heart broke every day in the year strivin' to come by his own, an' can't do it; but I'm a fool, an' ever was sarvin' others an' ruinin' myself." "Bartle," said Mrs.
"Connor, avick," said he, "Connor, sure you'll not blame me in this business? sure you won't blame your poor, heart broken father, let thim say what they will, sure you won't, avilish?" "Don't fret on my account, father," said the sonj "why should I blame you? God knows you're strivin' to do what you would wish for me."
"I'd depind an him," said he, in a soliloquy, "as soon as I'd depind upon ice of an hour's growth: an', whether or not, sure as I'm an my way to Owen Reillaghan's, the father of the dacent boy that he's strivin' to outdo, mayn't I as well watch his motions, any way?"
"I'm only strivin' ter fethom this matter so's I'll know whar ter start work myself. Ye needn't be afeared ter trust me." "Wa'al, then, I'll tell ye." They were talking in the woods, where autumnal colour splashed its gorgeousness in a riot that intoxicated the eye, and no one was near them, but the man who had been tarred and feathered lowered his voice and spoke with a terrorized whine.
"He'll have three times a betther school here; and if he wanst settled, I'll engage he would take to it kindly." "See here, boys," says Dick Dolan, in a whisper, "if that bloody villain, Brady, isn't afther standin' this quarter of an hour, strivin' to hear what we're about; but it's well we didn't bring up anything consarnin' the other business; didn't I tell yees the desate was in 'im?
A pretty time there was of it, though, when he reached home again, and Mrs. Flin pumped out of him where he had been. "It's all of no use, Jerold Flin," said she, "for me to be a strivin' and a strivin' to keep up the honor of the house, and you continually running back to your low associates."
That's what I'd say if I was angry; but I'm not angry. I do feel for you an' them; still I can't afford to do what you want, or I'd do it, for I like to do good for evil, bad as I am. I'm strivin' to make up my rent an' to pay an unlucky bill that I have due to-morrow, and doesn't know where the money's to come from to meet both." "Mave Sullivan, achora, what can I " Mrs.
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