: Odds and ends by Croker B M Bithia Mary - Ireland Fiction; Short stories English Irish authors

@FreeBooksThu 08 Jun, 2023

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about the Army--I wanted to be a sailor, and my mother struck; and here I am--at twenty-four--an incapable idiot!"

"But you can turn your hand to something."

"I can ride to hounds, and manage a boat, I'm a bit of a carpenter, I can photograph, and I know something of machinery."

"Yes, you could say it," rejoined the other significantly.

"Have you any suggestion to make, sir? You seemed to have some proposition."

"I 'ave--it's this. Suppose you go off for three years wherever you like--it must be out of Great Britain--and you will not correspond with Nancy more than every six months. You will go into the world like a man, not like a dressed-up young nincompoop, and make ten thousand pounds. When you bring me that, I will put forty thousand to it and give you Nancy."

"Some men pick it up in Wall Street in one afternoon--some make it by a stroke of the pen. Why! I've even been told--but I don't believe it--that women get as much as that for a novel!"

"All these are clever people--they have capital, or brains, or both. I have neither one nor the other."

"Oh ho! so you are going to cry off--and not take up my challenge, eh?"

"If I thought I had the very smallest chance--of--winning, you know I'd jump at it like a shot."

Nancy Pottinger was twenty, a pretty little dark-eyed girl, animated and energetic, clever, resourceful, and plucky.

"At best, I'm such a duffer," he groaned.

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