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Stories of a Western Town by Octave Thanet
page 60 of 160 (37%)
At this period Mrs. Fitzmaurice was his barber, and she,
having been too rash with the shears in one place, had snipped
off the rest of his curly black locks "to match;" until he showed
a perfect convict's poll, giving his ears all the better chance,
and bringing out the rather square contour of his jaws to advantage.
He had the true Irish-Norman face; a skin of fine texture,
fair and freckled, high cheekbones, straight nose, and wide
blue eyes that looked to be drawn with ink, because of their
sharply pencilled brows and long, thick, black lashes.
But the feature that Mrs. Carriswood noticed was Tommy's mouth,
a flexible and delicately cut mouth, of which the lips moved
lightly in speaking and seldom were quite in repose.

"The genuine Irish orator's mouth," thought Mrs. Carriswood.

Tommy, however, was not a finished orator, and Mrs. Carriswood
herself deigned to help him with his graduating oration;
Tommy delivering the aforesaid oration from memory, on the stage
of the Grand Opera House, to a warm-hearted and perspiring
audience of his towns-people, amid tremendous applause and not
the slightest prod-dings of conscience.

Really the speech deserved the applause; Mrs. Carriswood, who had
heard half the eloquence of the world, spent three evenings on it;
and she has a good memory.

Her part in the affair always amused her; though, in fact,
it came to pass easily. She had the great fortune of the family.
Being a widow with no children, and the time not being
come when philanthropy beckons on the right hand and on
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