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  Light O' The Morning - The Story of an Irish Girl
(BBALEBBASEID_85179DLDA)
$3.95   
     
   
     
   
   
 
 
  Recommend to a friend
 
Specifications
Author Meade (Elizabeth Thomasina Meade Smith), L.T.
Publisher Evergreen Review, Inc.
Size 952 KB
Platform Mobipocket Reader
Media Type Download
Required Software Mobipocket Reader
Manual BBALEBBASEID_85179DLDA

CONTENTS:

I. NORA

II. "SOME MORE OF THE LAND MUST GO"

III. THE WILD MURPHYS

IV. THE INVITATION

V. "I AM ASHAMED OF YOU"

VI. THE CAVE OF THE BANSHEE

VII. THE MURPHYS

VIII. THE SQUIRE'S TROUBLE

IX. EDUCATION AND OTHER THINGS

X. THE INVITATION

XI. THE DIAMOND CROSS

XII. A FEATHER-BED HOUSE

XIII. "THERE'S MOLLY"

XIV. BITS OF SLANG

XV. TWO LETTERS

XVI. A CHEEKY IRISH GIRL

XVII. TWO DESCRIPTIONS

XVIII. A COMPACT

XIX. "SHE WILL SOON TAME DOWN"

XX. STEPHANOTIE

XXI. THE ROSE-COLORED DRESS

XXII. LETTERS

XXIII. THE BOX OF BON-BONS

XXIV. THE TELEGRAM

XXV. THE BLOW

XXVI. TEN POUNDS

XXVII. ADVENTURES--AND HOME AGAIN

XXVIII. THE WILD IRISH

XXIX. ALTERATIONS

XXX. THE LION IN His CAGE

XXXI. RELEASE OF THE CAPTIVE

XXXII. ANDY

XXXIII. THE CABIN ON THE MOUNTAIN

XXXIV. A DARING DEED

XXXV. THE COT WHERE HE WAS BORN

XXXVI. "I'M A HAPPY MAN"

***

an excerpt from CHAPTER I - NORA

"Why, then, Miss Nora--"

"Yes, Hannah?"

"You didn't see the masther going this way, miss?"

"What do you mean, Hannah? Father is never at home at this hour."

"I thought maybe--" said Hannah. She spoke in a dubious voice, backing a little away.

Hannah was a small, squat woman, of a truly Irish type. Her nose was celestial, her mouth wide, her eyes dark, and sparkling with fun. She was dressed in a short, coarse serge petticoat, with what is called a bedgown over it; the bedgown was made of striped calico, yellow and red, and was tied in at the waist with a broad band of the same. Hannah's hair was strongly inclined to gray, and her humorous face was covered with a perfect network of wrinkles. She showed a gleam of snowy teeth now, as she looked full at the young girl whom she was addressing.

"Ah, then, Miss Nora," she said, "it's I that am sorry for yez."

Before Nora O'Shanaghgan could utter a word Hannah had turned on her heel.

"Come back, Hannah," said Nora in an imperious voice.

"Presently, darlint; it's the childer I hear calling me. Coming, Mike asthore, coming."

The squat little figure flew down a side walk which led to a paddock: beyond the paddock was a turnstile, and at the farther end of an adjacent field a cabin made of mud, with one tiny window and a thatched roof. Hannah was making for the cabin with rapid, waddling strides. Nora stood in the middle of the broad sweep which led up to the front door of the old house.

Castle O'Shanaghgan was a typical Irish home of the ancient régime. The house, a great square pile, was roomy and spacious; it had innumerable staircases, and long passages through which the wind shrieked on stormy nights, and a great castellated tower at its north end. This tower was in ruins, and had been given up a long time ago to the exclusive tenancy of the bats, the owls, and rats so large and fierce that the very dogs were afraid of them. In the tower at night the neighbors affirmed that they heard shrieks and ghostly noises; and Nora, whose bedroom was nearest to it, rejoiced much in the distinction of having twice heard the O'Shanaghgan Banshee keening outside her window. Nora was a slender, tall, and very graceful girl of about seventeen, and her face was as typical of the true, somewhat wild, Irish beauty as Hannah Croneen's was the reverse.

 

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