Daireen. Complete. Frank Frankfort Moore. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Frank Frankfort Moore
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 4064066153182
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       Frank Frankfort Moore

      Daireen. Complete

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4064066153182

       CHAPTER I.

       CHAPTER II.

       CHAPTER III.

       CHAPTER IV.

       CHAPTER V.

       CHAPTER VI.

       CHAPTER VII.

       CHAPTER VIII.

       CHAPTER IX.

       CHAPTER X.

       CHAPTER XI.

       CHAPTER XII.

       CHAPTER XIII.

       CHAPTER XIV.

       CHAPTER XV.

       CHAPTER XVI.

       I.

       II

       CHAPTER XVII.

       CHAPTER XVIII.

       CHAPTER XIX.

       CHAPTER XX.

       CHAPTER XXI.

       CHAPTER XXII.

       END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

       CHAPTER XXIII.

       CHAPTER XXIV.

       CHAPTER XXV.

       CHAPTER XXVI.

       CHAPTER XXVII.

       CHAPTER XXVIII.

       CHAPTER XXIX.

       CHAPTER XXX.

       CHAPTER XXXI.

       CHAPTER XXXII.

       CHAPTER XXXIII.

       CHAPTER XXXIV.

       CHAPTER XXXV.

       CHAPTER XXXVI.

       CHAPTER XXXVII.

       CHAPTER XXXVIII.

       CHAPTER XXXIX.

       CHAPTER XL.

       CHAPTER XLI.

       CONCLUSION.

       Table of Contents

      A king

      Upon whose property …

      A damn'd defeat was made.

      A king

      Of shreds and patches.

      The very conveyances of his lands will hardly lie in this box; and must the inheritor himself have no more? Hamlet.

      MY son,” said The Macnamara with an air of grandeur, “my son, you've forgotten what's due”—he pronounced it “jew”—“to yourself, what's due to your father, what's due to your forefathers that bled,” and The Macnamara waved his hand gracefully; then, taking advantage of its proximity to the edge of the table, he made a powerful but ineffectual attempt to pull himself to his feet. Finding himself baffled by the peculiar formation of his chair, and not having a reserve of breath to draw upon for another exertion, he concealed his defeat under a pretence of feeling indifferent on the matter of rising, and continued fingering the table-edge as if endeavouring to read the initials which had been carved pretty deeply upon the oak by a humorous guest just where his hand rested. “Yes, my son, you've forgotten the blood of your ancient sires. You forget, my son, that you're the offspring of the Macnamaras and the O'Dermots, kings of Munster in the