Furlong

“ The sport at first was slack, and no wonder; and Furlong began to grow tired, when Murphy hooked on his salmon, and gently brought it round under the water within range of his victim's observation.
"This is wather dull work," said Furlong.
"Wait awhile, my dear sir; they are never lively in biting so early as this—they're not set about feeding in earnest yet. Hilloa! by the Hokey I have him!" shouted Murphy. Furlong looked on with great anxiety, as Murphy made a well-feigned struggle with a heavy fish. ”

“ And there was another and not uninfluential idea in her mind; she believed that by her side, under her eyes, Furlong would not flinch from the roar of a rifle, and she did not want him to flinch. She wanted him to be conspicuously brave. ”

“ The sportsmen, having returned from their fishing excursion to dinner, were seated round the hospitable board of Squire Egan; Murphy and Dick in high glee, at still successfully hoodwinking Furlong, and carrying on their mystification with infinite frolic. ”

“ This nearly made Furlong speak, but, considering O'Grady's temper and ill-health, he hesitated, till he saw Augusta rubbing her eye, in consequence of a small splinter of the oyster-shell having struck it from Scatterbrain's mismanagement of his knife; but Furlong thought she was crying, and then he could be silent no longer; he went over to where she sat, and with a very affectionate demonstration in his action, said, “Never mind them, dear Gussy—never mind—don't cwy—I love her dear little moustachios, I do.” ”

“ Furlong; all that has been done is my doing—I've humbugged you, sir,—hum-bugged. I've sold you—dead. I've pumped you, sir—all your electioneering bag of tricks, bribery and all, exposed; and now go off to O'Grady, and tell him how the poor ignorant Irish have done you; and see, Mr. Furlong," in a quiet under-tone, "if there's anything that either he or you don't like about the business, you shall have any satisfaction you like, and as often as you please." ”

“ Furlong got very angry, while Dick and Murphy shouted with laughter at him—"No, sir," said Furlong, "I don't welish the pwactice of such di'ty twicks."
"Do you apply the word 'dirty' to me, sir?" said Dick the Devil, ruffling up like a game-cock. "I'll tell you what, sir, if you make use of the word 'dirty' again, I'd think very little of kicking you—ay, or eight like you—I'll kick eight Furlongs one mile."
"Who's talking of kicking?" asked O'Grady.
"I am," said Dick, "do you want any?"
"Gentlemen! gentlemen!" cried the sheriff, "order! pray order! ”

“ Before he could finish his sentence, the dowager had drawn from the depths of her side-pockets a brace of pistols, and presenting them to Furlong, said, “Be at a loss no longer, except the loss of life which may ensue: take your choice of weapons, sir.”
“Gwacious Heaven!” exclaimed Furlong, trembling from head to foot.
“You won't choose, then?” said the dowager. “Well, there's one for you;” and she laid a pistol before him with as courteous a manner as if she were making him a birthday present. ”

“ I would not like you to be engaged in one of these popular riots."
"I shouldn't wellish it myself," said Furlong.
"Pull away, Dick," said Murphy; "let them kill the blackguard, if they like."
"But will they kill him weally?" inquired Furlong, somewhat horrified.
"'Faith, it's just as the whim takes them," said Murphy; "but as we wish to be popular on the hustings, we must let them kill as many as they please."
Andy still shouted loud enough to be heard. "Misther Dick, they're goin' to murdher me." ”

“ Some carry an innate love of triumph to a pitch of epicurism, and are not content unless the triumph be achieved in a certain way, making collateral passions accessories before or after the fact; and Murphy was one of the number. To him, a triumph without fun was beef without mustard, lamb without salad, turbot without lobster sauce. Now, to entangle Furlong in their meshes was not sufficient for him ”

“ Mr. Bermingham, perceiving the sensation his question created, thought he had touched upon forbidden ground, and therefore did not repeat his question, and Fanny whispered Furlong that one of the stranger's mad peculiarities was mistaking one person for another; but all this did not satisfy Furlong, whose misgivings as to the real name of his host were growing stronger every moment. At last, Mr. Bermingham, without alluding to the broken friendship between Egan and O'Grady, returned to the "odd story" he had heard that morning about drowning. ”

“ Erfert replied, "What does he want to see me for?"
The operative said, "I do not know. He will explain that when he sees you."
Erfert replied, "I am in a hurry and haven't time. I'm late anyway, and will call and see him tomorrow."
The operative said, "You can either go with me right now and see Mr. Furlong, or I will call the policeman (pointing to a policeman who happened to be standing diagonally across the street from where they were) and have him take you to police headquarters, and probably Mr. Furlong will go there and see you. Now it is up to you. ”

“ Furlong, your sister at Locust Point has heard bad news, and wants to see you immediately."
Mr. Furlong drove as fast as he could, until he came to the road which turned off to Locust Point. Here he set the children down, and showed Obed, not quite half a mile ahead of them, a large white building with a flag flying from the top. "There," said he, "your aunt Debby, you know, lives next to that white building. It is a straight road. I am sorry to leave you. Keep out of the way of the horses, and go directly to her house." Mr. Furlong then drove to Locust Point. ”

“ I think I had a nibble."
"You don't seem to have good sport there," shouted Murphy.
"Vewy poo' indeed," said Furlong, dolefully.
"Play your line a little," said Murphy; "keep the bait lively—you're not up to the way of fascinating them yet."
"Why, no; it's wather noo to me."
"'Faith!" said Murphy to himself, "it's new to all of us. It's a bran new invention in the fishing line. Billy," said he to the gossoon, who was in the boat with him, "we must catch a salmon again to divart that strange gentleman—hook him on, my buck." ”

“ O'Grady looked thunder as Furlong entered, and eyeing him keenly for some seconds, as if he were taking a mental as well as an ocular measurement of him, he saluted him with—
"Well, sir, a pretty kettle of fish you've made of this. I hope you have not blabbed much about our affairs?"
"Why, I weally don't know—I'm not sure—that is, I won't be positive, because when one is thwown off his guard, you know——"
"Pooh, sir! a man should never be off his guard in an election. But how the d——l, sir, could you make such a thundering mistake as to go to the wrong house?" ”

“ Never mind, if I don't hoax him: I'll bet you what you like he's done."
"I hear him coming down-stairs," said the Squire.
"Then send off the salmon in a basket by one of the boys, Dick," said Murphy; "and you, Squire, may go about your canvass, and leave us in care of the enemy."
All was done as Murphy proposed, and, in something less than an hour, Furlong and Dick in one boat, and Murphy and his attendant gossoon in another, were afloat on the river, to initiate the Dublin citizen into the mysteries of this new mode of salmon-fishing. ”

“ Janey!" he cried.
He opened his eyes at last. He was lying under the hedge, his cheek scratched, his hands twisted in the grass. He stirred feebly, then sat up, still crouching back against the hazel. Furlonger lay prone among the buttercups, his chin turned up sharply, the moonlight blazing on his face. Then Lowe remembered how things had happened—how the sickening grip on his throat had suddenly relaxed, and he had gone crashing backwards into the brambles, while something fell with a heavy thud at his feet. ”

“ Oh, Misther Murphy, sir, how soft the stranger is, sir. The salmon's ready for ketchin' now, sir. Will you ketch him yet, sir?"
"Coax him round, Billy," said Murphy.
The young imp executed the manœuvre with adroitness; and Murphy was preparing for another haul, as Furlong's weariness began to manifest itself.
"Do you intend wemaining here all day? Do you know, I think I've no chance of any spo't."
"Oh, wait till you hook one fish, at all events," said Murphy; "just have it to say you killed a salmon in the new style. The day is promising better. I'm sure we'll have sport yet. Hilloa! ”

“ I—I know him slightly."
"He's a dreadful man, isn't he?"
Nigel licked his lips.
"Yes—he's a rotter. But he—he has his good points—all men have."
"I don't see how a man like Furlonger can. He seems bad all around. ”

“ The wind crept over the heads of the hazel bushes, bowing them gently, and shaking out of them the scent of their budding. From the young grass and tender, vivid mosses crept up more scents, faint, moist and earthy. The sky was grey behind the stooping hazels, but glimmered with the yellow promise of noon.
Janet Furlonger and Quentin Lowe had met to say good-bye in Furnace Wood. The scent of spring was in Janey's clothes, and when her lover drew her head down to his shoulder he tasted spring in her hair. But there was not spring on her lips when he sought them—only the salt wash of sorrow. ”

“ He was a powerfully strong man, and had declared his intention of massacring any person attempting to enter his cell. He defied the sheriff or any of his officers to enter. After Judge Sterritt had listened to the sheriff's report, he summoned me to his chair and said, "Mr. Furlong, you arrested this man in Illinois and brought him to Brookville. Now I deputize you to go to the jail and bring Wess Watts, the prisoner, to this bar, as soon as possible." ”

“ She rose to go to the door, but Nigel was nearest it, and sprang out before her.
"Morning, Winkworth!" he shouted hilariously. "I'm back again."
"Glad to see you, Mus' Furlonger," chuckled the postman. "You look in pretty heart."
"Never was better in my life," and waving a letter in his hand he swung back into the kitchen.
"A letter for Janey!—Janey's the lucky devil"—as he flung it across the table.
"I wonder who it's from," said Leonard; "open it, Janey, and see."
Letters were always an excitement in the Furlonger family—they were few enough to be that. ”

“ In future days you'll live to learn Proud hearts can love the longest. Oh! sometimes think, when press'd to hear, When flippant tongues beset thee, That all must love thee, when thou'rt near, But one will ne'er forget thee! III The changeful sand doth only know The shallow tide and latest; The rocks have mark'd its highest flow, The deepest and the greatest; And deeper still the flood-marks grow:— So, since the hour I met thee, The more the tide of time doth flow, The less can I forget thee!
When Augusta saw the lines, she was charmed. She discovered her Furlong to be a poet! ”

“ Nigel Furlonger met Tony Strife at the top of Wilderwick hill. He had dressed himself with more care than usual—in the girl's interest he must look respectable. Leonard and Janet had been immensely surprised when he told them he meant to go to the races. The Furlonger disreputableness owed some of its celebrity to the fact that it ran along channels of its own, neglecting those approved by wealth and fashion.
"Feel you've got too much cash?" jeered Leonard.
"I shan't do any betting to speak of."
"Don't you!" said Janey; "we're stony enough as things are." ”

“ The famous song Receipt for Drinking may be responsible for the allegation that he was addicted to intemperate drinking, but Charles O'Conor (1710-1791) , the antiquary, who had personal knowledge of him, gives him a good character in private life. The number of Carolan's musical pieces, to nearly all of which he composed verses, is said to exceed two hundred. He died on the 25th March 1738, and was buried at Kilronan.
His poetical Remains in the original Irish, with English metrical translations by Thomas Furlong, were printed in Hardiman's Irish Minstrelsy (1831) . ”

“ The young puritans and the old puritans at Hatfield.
Thurston, E. T.
The achievement of Richard Furlong, formerly published separately, as—
1. The antagonists.
2. Richard Furlong.
3. The achievement.
Bellwattle and Cruikshank series:—
1. The garden of resurrection.
2. Tares.
3. The patchwork papers.
4. Sheepskins and grey russet.
John Grey series:—
1. The city of beautiful nonsense.
2. The world of wonderful reality. ”

“ In furrows full of water, a hare would not sit, nor partridge run; the larks, the patient larks which endure almost everything, even they have gone. Furrow on furrow with flints dotted on their slopes, and chalk lumps, that is all. The cold earth gives no sweet petal of flower, nor can any bud of thought or bloom of imagination start forth in the mind. But step by step, forcing a way through the rain and over the ridge, I find a small and stunted copse down in the next hollow. It is rather a wide hedge than a copse, and stands by the road in the corner of a field. The boughs are bare ”

“ During the afternoon of the 9th, I was sitting on a log, in the shade of a tree, on the north bank of the river, about a mile from that secluded Eden, and four or five from Charley's hut. I had camped at dusk on the previous evening; and the equipment of my two horses, with other impedimenta, was lying about. A small damper was maturing under the handful of fire, and a quart pot of tea was slowly collecting a scum of dirt which made it nothing the worse to a man of my nurture. ”

“ The clearing of Rory's horse-paddock was visible here and there through gaps in the scrub; even the hut was in sight from my own point of view; the sun was still a couple of hours above the horizon; and the repose of the wilga shade was more to be desired than the activity of the wood-heap. To everything there is a time and a season; and the tactical moment for weary approach to a dwelling is just when fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, and all the air a solemn stillness holds. ”