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Updated: June 14, 2025
It was at this little entertainment that Sir Henry told the story of the banker's clerk and the bad boy a true story, he said, although it may be without a moral. The best stories, said Toole, like the best people, have no morals at least, none to make a song about any more than the best dogs have the longest tails.
'Ay, he was sleeping very quietly, said Toole to Lowe. 'May we go up, Ma'am? 'Oh! he'll be overjoyed, gentlemen, to see you, and 'twill do him an infinity of good. I can scarce believe my eyes. We've been tidying the study, the maid and I, and airing the cushions of his chair; and she laughed a delighted little giggle.
Walsingham, the good rector, pausing in his leisurely walk just outside the row of houses that fronted the turnpike, in one of which were the lodgings of Dick Devereux. The good Doctor Toole wondered what brought his reverence there, for he had an inkling of something going on.
Next morning Toole, sauntering along the low road towards the mills, as usual bawling at his dogs, who scampered and nuzzled hither and thither, round and about him, saw two hackney coaches and a 'noddy' arrive at 'the Brass Castle, a tall old house by the river, with a little bit of a flower-garden, half-a-dozen poplars, and a few old privet hedges about it; and being aware that it had been taken the day before for Mr.
The fact is, Father Roach was, as Irish priests were sometimes then, a bit of a sportsman. He and Toole used occasionally to make mysterious excursions to the Dublin mountains. He had a couple of mighty good dogs, which he lent freely, being a good-natured fellow.
'And the general's off to Scarborough, said Toole. 'Old Chattesworth! I thought it was to Bath. 'Oh, no, Scarborough; a touch of the old rheum, and stomach I sent him there; and he's away in the Hillsborough packet for Holyhead this morning, and Colonel Stafford's left in command. 'And my Lady Becky Belmont's superseded, laughed Miss Magnolia, derisively.
Toole, who was a florid tenor, and used to give them, 'While gentlefolks strut in silver and satins, or 'A maiden of late had a merry design, or some other such ditty, with a recitation by plump little stage-stricken Ensign Puddock, who, in 'thpite of hith lithp, gave rather spirited imitations of some of the players Mossop, Sheridan, Macklin, Barry, and the rest.
As Toole debouched from Martin's-row, on his return, into the comparative amplitude of the main street of Chapelizod, he glanced curiously up to Sturk's bed-room windows. There were none of the white signals of death there.
Nawthin'! They be in good health, but they are not crazy t' be swimmin'. Th' way they do not hanker t' dash into th' water is marvellous, Mike. No water for thim!" "Hist!" said Toole uneasily, glancing around to see that no one but Casey was in hearing. "Mebby ye have not started thim right, Tim." "Mebby not," said Fagan angrily. "Mebby I do not know how t' start th' water goat, Toole!
Toole bounded to his feet in an instant, adjusting his wig and eyeing the new comers with intense but uneasy solemnity, which produced some suppressed merriment among the company. It was well for the serenity of the village that O'Flaherty was about to make a little speech a situation which usually deprived him of half his wits.
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