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Sean O’Casey


Cat ā€˜Nā€™ Cage

Tom was home on leave, his number dry, a good-conduct badge on his sleeve; for he was no longer a rooky, but had passed through all drill with colours flying, and crossed gold guns shining a little way above a cuff told the tale that he was a first-c [...]

Royal Risidence

Johnny's mother had brushed and brushed his clothes, had darned some holes in his stockings, had bought him a cheap pair of yellow shoes, had fixed a new white collar round his neck, had spit a lot on his hair, calling the spit goboil, and brushed hi [...]