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The General remembered that Grogan of the Artillery, the club bore, had a daughter and son-in-law sailing from Tilbury next morning, and had suggested his accompanying him to the docks. "Why he should have asked me," the General had said irritably, "when I can barely endure him for half-an-hour, is more than I can imagine!" "What is wrong between you and Langrishe, Nell?" he asked softly.
Indeed, there were few women in the tenements, for all their outcry, who did not know how quick had been her hand to help when illness came, or the landlord threatened the sidewalk, or the undertaker insisted on his money in advance. "It's not Tom Grogan that's crooked," Mrs. Todd continued, "an' ye all know it. It's that loafer, Dennis Quigg, and that old sneak, Crimmins.
"'Ay, says Grogan, 'what he often threatened to others he'll soon meet himself, plase God come, boys, says he, 'bring the straw and light it, and just lay it up, my darlings, nicely to the thatch here, and ye'll see what a glorious bonfire we'll have of the black Orange villain's blankets in less than no time.
The brewery employed a larger number of men than any other concern in Rockville, so trouble with its employees meant serious trouble for half the village if Schwartz defied the Union and selected a non-union woman to do the work. They knew, too, something of the indomitable pluck and endurance of Tom Grogan.
"I niver knew befure how little it depinded on. There's Grogan th' banker. He's a great man. Look at his bank. It looks as though an earthquake wudden't flutter it. It's a cross between an armory an' a jail. It frowns down upon th' sthreet. An' Grogan. He looks as solid as though th' columns iv th' building was quarried out iv him.
Pickett, owner of the Excelsior Boarding-House. The policeman's name was Grogan. He was a genial giant, a terror to the riotous element of the waterfront, but obviously ill at ease in the presence of death. He drew in his breath, wiped his forehead, and whispered: "Look at his eyes, ma'am!" Mrs.
Grogan, Collins, Sullivan, Raven, Kilcoyne and others, always ready and always willing, they would work till they dropped, and the Battalion owes much to their courage and endurance. The 3rd of July passed quietly, and that night we were relieved by the 25th Canadians and marched to Aix Noulette, where we embussed and went to Monchy Breton for a rest. 4th July, 1917. 23rd Nov., 1917.
Sometimes when a chunker captain, waiting to unload, shoves a few tons aboard a sneak-boat at night, Tom will spot him every time. They try to fool her into indorsing their bills of lading in full, but it don't work for a cent." "You call her Tom Grogan?" Babcock asked, with a certain tone in his voice. He resented, somehow, Crane's familiarity. "Certainly. Everybody calls her Tom Grogan.
It was quite bewildering to Jimmie Higgins; he had wrestled with Catholics of several nations and got nothing but hard words for his pains, but now all of a sudden Tom Callahan of the "Buffeteria" and Pat Grogan of the grocery on the corner made the discovery that maybe he was not such a fool after all!
The first volley was scarcely over, when there was another slap from the outhouse; and after that another from the gardens; and after that, to be sure, we took to our scrapers. Several of them were very badly wounded; but as for Collier, he was shot dead, and Grogan was taken prisoner, with five more, on the spot.
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