Why he did not seem to feel anything, and you'd ha' swore nothing affected him, more than that hob, Sir; and all the time, there wasn't a more thin-skinned, atrabilious poor dog in all Ireland--but honest, Sir--thorough steel, Sir.

All I say is, if he had a finger in that ugly pie, you know, as some will insist, I'll stake my head to a china orange, 'twas a fair front to front fight.

By Jupiter, Sir, there wasn't one drop of cur's blood in poor Nutter.

No, poor fellow; neither sneak nor assassin _there_--' 'They thought he drowned himself from his own garden--poor Nutter,' said Major O'Neill.
'Well, that he did _not_,' said Toole.

'That unlucky shoe, you know, tells a tale; but for all that, I'm clear of the opinion that drowned he is.