Captain O'Shaughnessy's Sporting Career: An Autobiography ...

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Chapman and Hall, 1873
 

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Page 138 - Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground ; long heath, brown furze, anything: The wills above be done ! but I would fain die a dry death.
Page 3 - For, indeed, the greatest glory of a building is not in its stones, nor in its gold. Its glory is in its Age, and in that deep sense of voicefulness, of stern watching, of mysterious sympathy, nay, even of approval or condemnation, which we feel in walls that have long been washed by the passing waves of humanity.
Page 58 - Live the. rakes of Mallow. When at home with dadda dying, Still for Mallow water crying ; But where there's good claret plying, Live the rakes of Mallow. Living short, but merry lives ; Going where the devil drives ; Having sweethearts, but no wives, Live the rakes of Mallow.
Page 225 - So moving these last words he spoke, We all vented our tears in a shower; For my part I thought my heart broke, To see him cut down like a flower. On his travels we watched him next day; Oh, the throttler! I thought I could kill him; But Larry not one word did say, Nor changed till he came to 'King William
Page 225 - Then, musha! his colour grew white. When he came to the nubbling chit, He was tucked up so neat and so pretty, The rumbler jogged off from his feet, And he died with his face to the city; He kicked, too - but that was all pride, For soon you might see 'twas all over...
Page 194 - Halfway up the stairs it stands, And points and beckons with its hands From its case of massive oak, Like a monk, who, under his cloak, Crosses himself, and sighs, alas ! With sorrowful voice to all who pass, — " Forever — never ! Never — forever...
Page 199 - The churchyard bears an added stone, The fireside shows a vacant chair ; Here sadness dwells and weeps alone, And Death displays his banner there. The life has gone, the breath has fled, And what has been no more shall be ; The well-known form, the welcome tread — Oh, where are they ? And where is he ? HENRY NEELE.
Page 224 - To see you in this situation; And, blister my limbs if I lie, I'd as lieve it had been my own station." "Ochone! it's all over," says he, "For the neckcloth I'll be forced to put on And by this time to-morrow you'll see Your poor Larry as dead as a mutton," Because, why, his courage was good. "And I'll be cut up like a pie, And my nob from my body be parted." "You're in the wrong box, then...
Page 224 - The cards being called for, they played, Till Larry found one of them cheated; A dart at his napper he made (The boy being easily heated); 'Oh, by the hokey, you thief, I'll scuttle your nob with my daddle!
Page 223 - THE night before Larry was stretched, The boys they all paid him a visit; A bit in their sacks too they fetched, They sweated their duds till they riz it; For Larry was always the lad, When a friend was condemned to the squeezer, But he'd fence all the togs that he had Just to help the poor boy to a sneezer, And moisten his gob 'fore he died. " Ton my conscience, dear Larry...

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