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Updated: June 4, 2025
She wouldn't get her health in it, she said. Michael and Mary Twomey had been on the staff of Coppinger's Court for a full thirty years when, in the fullness of time, Frederica returned to her ancient home, bringing with her the young heir to it, and all its accessory tenanted lands.
"God bless ye, John Brien," she said, when the suitable salutations and comments on the weather had been exchanged, with the rigorous courtesy observed by such as Mary Twomey and John Brien with one another, "this basket is very weighty on me " "Put it up on the butt, ma'am," responded John Brien. "Put it up, for God's sake, and let you sit up with it. Sure the ass is able for more than yourself!"
On that afternoon as he moved about the room he had chosen for his studio, and unpacked the monster cases he had brought from Paris, he remembered how, long ago, Mrs. Twomey had laughed at him when he told her he was never going to marry. "Wait awhile!" mocked Mrs. Twomey, "one day it'll sthrike ye all in the minute the same as a pairson'd get a stitch when they'd be leaning-over a churn!"
Twomey, a tiny and almost imperceptible bundle, was already on her knees in a corner, scrubbing a glistening metal churn, and so engrossed in her task as to be unaware of her visitors. "Look here, Mary," began the Major, with a touch of severity; "what's all this about Doctor Aherne?" Mrs. Twomey rose from her knees, dried her little scarlet claws in her apron, and stood to attention.
"There's people dying now that never died before." This statement presented no difficulty to Mrs. Twomey, since she had no desire to exult over Mr. Brien as being what is often called a typical Irishman, and was able to accept its rather excessive emphasis in the sense in which it was intended.
Twomey responded with a long and jubilant crow of laughter. "Yerra, gerr'l alive !" she corrected herself quickly. "My lady alive, I should say sure a little thing like me'd tell lies as fast as a hen'd pick peas!" The modesty, as well as the accuracy, of this statement silenced Miss Coppinger for a moment. "Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" she resumed with much severity.
One of the latter, Mary Lynch, was subsequently five times committed, and at last transported; Jeremiah Twomey, alias Old Lock, was subsequently six times committed, and finally transported, while two others were twice committed. These are a specimen of the persons whom his lordship delighted to honour. In the county gaol, 47 prisoners experienced the benefit of viceregal liberality.
'It done you no harm to kill a woman! says I. 'Mind your own business! says he to me. 'Throth then, an' I will mind it! says I, 'an' I'll have plenty to mind it without you! I'll have plenty to mind it without yourself! Dannileen alay!" "What on earth are you talking about?" Dick broke in impatiently. Mrs. Twomey flung a glance to the doorway. Christian was no longer there.
Michael Twomey therefore, after a fruitless exercise of patience, left the chapel in deep wrath and humiliation, and proceeded to walk home again. On the road he was faced by a string of laughing girls, and among them there was little Mary Driscoll.
Not Green Dragon or The Norreys King-at-Arms, or any other pontiff of pedigrees, could attach a higher importance to gentle blood than did little elderly Mary Twomey, elderly, but still as indomitably nimble and resolute as when in Frederica's childhood she would catch the donkey for her, and run after it, belabouring it in its rider's interest, for half an afternoon.
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