Patsy

“Faith, it’s worse ruined you’ll be if you don’t open the window,” replied Con’s voice, muffled by its passage through the sash. “Open the window, I want to talk to you. Where’s...

The meet was fixed for nine o’clock at the cross-roads, by the village of Castle Knock; and at eight you might have seen Bob Mahony, the sweep, clattering down the main street o...

General Grampound in make, shape, manner, voice and character was exactly like the General one meets on the stage in a farce. One meets numerous people in the course of one’s jo...

Meanwhile at the front of the house things had been happening. Larry and a subordinate stable helper had brought round Mr Fanshawe’s horse, and the horses for General Grampound...

“But the game is not played out yet,” said Mr Fanshawe; “we have nearly twenty-four hours before us. I’ll hocus the horses, I’ll get Patsy to take the lynch-pins out of the brou...

Dicky Fanshawe, as every one called him, was twenty-five years of age. He had enough money to do what he liked, and so, as a rule, he did nothing; at least, that was what his un...

Sitting on the bed, Mr Fanshawe could see the window, a square of vague light. But for a faint perfume of stables, he would not have known that Mr Lyburn was seated on the bed b...

That night Mr Murphy and his steed had been carousing in the cabin of Billy the Rafter, a gentleman of no occupation, who lived by the main road half-way between Castle Knock an...

He heard the clock strike twelve. There were two mortal hours yet to be consumed in idleness. He could do nothing, and the whole of his future happiness was in the hands of Pats...

“Look at him,” said Mr Mahony, breaking out at last—“look at him in his ould green coat! Look at him with the ould whip undher his arm, and the boots on his feet not paid for, a...

Patsy ran and ran. He was so frightened that at first he did not know where he was running to, and when he came to his senses he was more than half-way to Castle Knock. Paddy Mu...

This faculty varies in proportion to the “strength of mind” of the woman. It was the fainting, ballad-singing, salt-snuffing girl who, in the old days, did the desperate things;...

At ten o’clock that night Patsy entered his bedroom with a tin candlestick in his hand. He placed the candlestick on the dressing-table, and, approaching the bed, began to unloa...

The Castle Knock beagles were a mixed pack of tall hare-hounds and tiny rabbit-beagles. Nearly every cottager boarded a dog; Mr French (a cousin of Mr O’Farrell, the Master of t...

When General Grampound took his leave of Mr Boxall, Mr Boxall rose from his bed and resumed those garments he had relinquished before taking his place between the sheets. Having...

“I don’t know,” sighed she, in a despairing way, and then burst out laughing. “I’m not laughing at him—it’s the whole thing—that man hitting Mr Boxall over the head with a bag o...

Mr Boxall was standing in his bedroom preparatory to dressing for dinner. Mr Boxall, though a Member of Parliament, and very rich, went in omnibuses to save cab fares, and his t...

Larry Lyburn had a face which, in colour and expression, was exactly like a wedge of double Gloucester cheese. He was the helper in the stable, and lived over the horses. Dan, t...

“But that’s not all,” went on Doris. “She’s going with Mr Fanshawe, and nobody knows about it, only me and you and she and Patsy. She told me if we were good we might see her of...

Larry had drawn the cart out of the coach-house for inspection. Dan, the coachman, had been passing, and Dan, who had the eye of an eagle for faults, had made a remark on the hu...

“Now sit down, Bob, and do try to behave yourself; Selina shall sit in my lap if she will promise to be good, and I will tell you a story—Doris, leave the poker alone—Dear me, d...

It was perhaps through the mouth of Con Cogan that wind of the matter got about. However, that may have been, it is certain that by eight o’clock next morning the news was all o...

The stable of an Irish country house has always, or nearly always, a certain number of volunteer and unpaid on-hangers. At any hour of the day you might have seen in the stable-...

“Who said you did?” asked Paddy. “Who said Con Cogan ever went back on a friend? Show me the man that siz it, and I’ll show you his liver on the pint of a stick.”

He was just half a second too late; the soot bag, swung like a club, missed Shan, and, catching Mr Boxall fair and square on the side of his face, sent him spinning like a tee-t...

A flock of wild geese flying across the sunset far away, remote, fantastic, the only living things visible in a world filling with shadows, lent the last touch of beauty to the...

“You’re one,” replied Mrs Kinsella. “Now come along, and don’t be asking me questions, for I have no time to waste. Here’s your room, and here’s a suit belonging to William, the...

It looked like a heap of old clothes at first sight, then he made it out to be the figure of a man on his knees engaged in taking a rabbit from a snare.

“I dunno. I heard Mrs Kinsella say he was a cousin of father’s, and I heard Mary, the between-maid, telling Biddy Mahony he was coming to-day. He’s coming for Christmas, and he’...

“Here, Patsy,” said Mrs Kinsella, when she had led him back to the kitchen by the ear, “take this broom and away with you to the top of the house and give it to Mary, the second...

“And who said it was?” replied Con, seizing him by the hand. “Is it geography you’d be teachin’ me, or what ails you at all, at all? Come on wid you now, or it’s the knock witho...

“The meet of the hounds which took place this morning on the lawn of Glen Druid House stands unparalleled in the history of Irish sport. To begin with, half the country-side att...

It was just before the first dinner gong, and Mr Fanshawe was in the billiard-room alone practising strokes. He was horribly nervous and depressed. That nervous depression had s...

General Grampound and Mr Boxall were non-smokers, and as Mr Boxall was also a teetotaler, and the General was talking politics, Dicky Fanshawe found things rather dull in the di...

It was a favourite amusement when a dinner-party was on to hang over the banister rails and watch the dishes going in, and, sometimes, if, fortunately, the remains of a jelly or...

The ground told quite a lot of things to Patsy Rooney as he made his way across Glen Druid Park from his father’s cottage to the little village of Castle Knock, which lies beyon...

“Go on with your sum,” answered the governess, who was seated at the other end of the table helping Doris, little Lord Gawdor’s sister, to make a map. “This is the third time yo...

It was a beautiful night, lit by the rising moon and a million stars. Mild almost as a night in summer, voiceless as the tomb, cloudless and perfect. The great stars, winter-cle...

“Separate them!” cried the governess, reining the pony in; whilst little Lord Gawdor, forgetting everything but the fight in progress, clapped his hands, calling out alternately...