Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 6, 2025
There were also blank forms in duplicate to be duly filled up with the price and signature of the bidder. This contract was given out once a year. Twice before it had been awarded to Thomas Grogan. The year before a man from Stapleton had bid lowest, and had done the work.
I turned up one of the bottles and put it to my lips and told them that it was beer, and that I could take an oath that it was. Grogan threw up his hands saying: "Now, Mother Nation, if you get me into trouble I will do something desperate." I had visited this man Grogan in jail about a year before this, where he was put for getting drunk and fighting.
The coffer-dam which had been built by driving into the mud of the bottom a double row of heavy tongued and grooved planking in two parallel rows, and bulkheading each end with heavy boards, had been filled with concrete to low-water mark, consuming not only the contents of the delayed scow, but two subsequent cargoes, both of which had been unloaded by Tom Grogan.
Such courtesies were too seldom heard in their deliberations, thought the members, as they lay back in their chairs to listen. "No wan can be moore pained than meself that so estimable a woman as Mrs. Grogan a woman who fills so honorably her every station in life should at this moment be stricken down either by the hand of an assassin or the hoof of a horse.
Grogan or her husband." "Mrs. Grogan, of course. She has done her own work for years," answered the president. The judge tapped the arm of his chair with his pencil. The taps could be heard all over the room. Most men kept quiet in Bowker's presence, even men like Rowan.
Seventy-five yards fifty yards twenty-five yards and still the two heads bobbed side by side. Jockey Michael Grogan, hero of many a hard finish; cool, calculating, and unmoved by the deafening clamour beating down from the packed grand stand, measured the distance with his eye and took a chance. His rawhide whip whistled through the air.
Quigg began by begging a ride in one of Tom's return carts, and taking this opportunity to lay before the driver the enormity of working for Grogan for thirty dollars a month and board, when there were a number of his brethren out of work and starving who would not work for less than two dollars a day if it were offered them.
After that would come the cold, freezing the mortar, and ending everything. Tom Grogan performed wonders. Not only did she work her teams far into the night, but during all this bad weather she stood throughout the day on the unprotected dock, a man's sou'wester covering her head, a rubber waterproof reaching to her feet.
The driver was Carl Nilsson, a Swede, a big, blue-eyed, light-haired young fellow of twenty-two, a sailor from boyhood, who three years before, on a public highway, had been picked up penniless and hungry by Tom Grogan, after the keeper of a sailors' boarding-house had robbed him of his year's savings.
"Keep an eye out, sir," the bridge-tender called after him, he had been directing him to Grogan's house, "perhaps Tom may be on the road." Then it suddenly occurred to Babcock that, so far as he could remember, he had never seen Mr. Thomas Grogan, his stevedore.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking