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Updated: June 3, 2025
She sat down that very hour and wrote to the Reverend Decimus Tooley, explaining why she, instead of Captain Rugley, wrote, and requesting that Jonas Lonergan be made ready for the trip from Bylittle to Jackleg, in the Panhandle, where a carriage from the Bar-T Ranch would meet him.
One night Edward Hooper, having consulted his watch frequently, and compared it with the clock of slow notoriety in the warehouse in Tooley Street, until his patience was almost gone, at last received the warning hiss, and had his books shut and put away before the minute-gun began to boom.
In two hours, six-and-thirty fires were raging six-and-thirty great conflagrations: among them the Borough Clink in Tooley Street, the King's Bench, the Fleet, and the New Bridewell. In almost every street, there was a battle; and in every quarter the muskets of the troops were heard above the shouts and tumult of the mob.
'An' in th' inthrests iv th' freedom iv Ireland, I says, 'I f'rgive ye th' pool table. "Well, sir, Jawn, he wept like a child. 'Tooley, he says, 'we'll march side be side, he says. 'Both iv us in th' front rank, he says. 'Aldherman Tooley an' Aldherman Schwartzmeister, to free Ireland, he says. 'But where does Germany come in? he says. 'Germany! says I, 'Germany!
At the "Spread-Eagle" in Tooley Street he and his gang one evening pressed a privateersman an insult keenly resented by the master of the ship. He accordingly sent off to the tender, whither the pressed man had been conveyed for security's sake, two wherries filled with armed seamen of the most piratical type. The fierce fight that ensued had a dramatic finish.
Samuel Weatherley." She threw herself back in her chair and laughed so irresistibly that Arnold, in a moment or two, found himself sharing her merriment. "It is all very well," he said presently, "but I am not at all sure that adventures do not sometimes come even to Tooley Street." She shook her head. "I shall never believe it. Tell me now about Mr. Weatherley?
"Right you are, Captain, right you are!" agreed Lonergan. Frances and Pratt heard none of this. Pratt had entered the car and the two young people were talking to the Reverend Mr. Tooley, who was a demure little man in clerical black, who seemed quite happy over the reunion of the two old friends, Captain Dan Rugley and Jonas P. Lonergan. Lonergan was a lean old man who walked with a crutch.
He proceeded down one of the approaches to the river from Tooley Street, and stopped when nearly half way to give some directions, when a sudden and tremendous explosion, took place, shaking the already tottering walls, which at this place were of great height. A cry was raised, "Run! the wall is falling!" Every one sprang away at the word.
Speaking of the London Olaf Churches, I should have added that from one of these the thrice-famous Tooley Street gets its name, where those Three Tailors, addressing Parliament and the Universe, sublimely styled themselves, "We, the People of England." Saint Olave Street, Saint Oley Street, Stooley Street, Tooley Street; such are the metamorphoses of human fame in the world!
It is impossible for those who know them to see those moody streets of Dockland, indeterminate, for they follow the River, which run from Tooley Street by the Hole-in-the-Wall to the Deptford docks, and from Tower Hill along Wapping High Street to Limehouse and the Isle of Dogs, as strangers would see them. What could they be to strangers?
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