, and it was there
I met with Terry Dolan. He had a short time previous come over from
Ireland, and was engaged as a sort of chore boy by Mr. L., in whose
family I resided during my stay in the neighborhood. This Terry was the
oddest being with whom I ever chanced to meet. Would that I could
describe him!--but most of us, I believe, occasionally meet with people,
whom we find to be indescribable, and Terry was one of those. He called
himself sixteen years of age; but, excepting that he was low of stature,
you would about as soon have taken him for sixty as sixteen. His
countenance looked anything but youthful, and there was altogether a
sort of queer, ancient look about him which caused him to appear very
remarkable. When he first came to reside with Mr. L. the boys in the
neighborhood nicknamed him "The Little Old Man," but they soon learned
by experience that their wisest plan was to place a safe distance
between Terry and themselves before applying that name to him, for the
implied taunt regarding his peculiar appearance enraged him beyond
measure. Whenever he entered the room, specially if he ventured a
remark--and no matter how serious you might have been a moment
before--the laugh would come, do your best to repress it.
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