Page last modified: April 22, 2004

A Lad of Grit

A Lad of Grit
no date (but 1936 to 1940)
The Educational Company of Ireland
Talbot Press
Dublin, Ireland

For Verne collectors, A Lad of Grit is a difficult title to find.
It is a title variation of Foundling Mick ( P'Tit-Bonhomme ).

According to the Jules Verne Encyclopedia, this version of Foundling Mick was published somewhere between 1936 and 1940. The book was published by The Educational Company of Ireland Limited which was related to the Talbot Press.

The cover indicates the book was part of a series called The Talbot Library of Standard Authors.
This translation is an abridged version of the Sampson Low text, and begins:

A LAD OF GRIT
THE STORY OF A FOUNDLING
Part 1
Chapter 1
IN FAR CONNACHT
   The town of Westport, in the privince of Connacht, is situated on Clew Bay. This bay is one of the most beautiful along the entire seaboard of Ireland; its capes, promontories, and points are ranged like so many sharks' teeth which bite the incoming rollers. It is at Westport that we are to find little Mick in the dawn of his life's story; we shall see where, when, and how that story comes to its end.
 
Here are images of this book:
 
Cover: (this image has been "cleaned up" from a damaged image, and there is text missing from the lower part of the cover. It should read "THE EDUCATIONAL COMPANY OF IRELAND LTD." near the bottom of the cover.)


...Note lower part of cover is damaged (see above)


Title Page:

Title Page Detail:

Let Knowledge Grow From More To More


Frontice - "The Boys' Bazaar":

CONTENTS

PART 1
Chap Page

I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI

IN FAR CONNACHT
LITTLE MICK
THE POOR SCHOOL
MORE OF THE POOR SCHOOL
LIMERICK
ROCKS AHEAD!
KIRWAN'S FARM
WHAT HAPPENED IN DONEGAL
THE RETURN
CHANGE
CATASTROPHE

5
9
16
24
38
40
50
64
71
81
92

PART II

I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII

TRELINGAR CASTLE
IN SERVICE
A YOUNG ENGLISH NOBLEMAN
EIGHTEEN YEARS BETWEEN THEM
SEVEN MONTHS IN CORK
THE FIRST FIREMAN ON THE "VULCAN"
DUBLIN
THE BOYS' BAZAAR
FOUND
A CHANGE OF COLOUR AND CONDITION
THE VOYAGE OF THE "DORIS"
THE WAGES OF MICHAEL
101
106
119
128
138
147
157
162
172
180
197
209
A LAD OF GRIT
THE STORY OF A FOUNDLING
Part 1
Chapter 1
IN FAR CONNACHT 

  The town of Westport, in the province of Connacht, is situated on Clew Bay. This bay is one of the most beautiful along the entire seaboard of Ireland; its capes, promontories, and points are ranged like so many sharks' teeth which bite the incoming rollers. It is at Westport that we are to find little Mick in the dawn of his life's story; we shall see where, when, and how that story comes to its end.

On Sunday, the 17th of June, 1875, most of the inhabitants were at Church, and a number of the congregation had come barefoot, carrying their shoes in their hands almost to the church door, partly to economise those articles of attire, although few of them were in good case, and partly because they walked more freely without the restraint of shoe-leather.

For the moment there was only one person in the

main street of Westport, a man who was pushing from the back a queerly-shaped vehicle drawn by a small and manifestly ill-used pony, and shouting, with wasted energy in the vacant space: "Puppets ! Puppets ! "

This travelling showman had come from Castlebar. He had "footed it," like a stroller, "crying" his puppets everywhere, and urging on his wretched pony with blows, and loud cracking of his whip, which was occaisionally accompanied by a sort of prolonged moan from the interior of the vehicle. And then, after the man had sworn at the miserable beast, he would seem to address some other lower animal, saying, with a hideous snarl: "Hold your tongue, will you!"

The moaning would cease, and the -- shall we say covered cart? -- would rumble on.

The man's name was Hornpipe. It matters little what was his birthplace. He had passed through the outskirts of the town, and was now going along the principal street, which was lined with fairly good houses. Out of this street ran several dirty lanes, and the cobble-stones with which it was paved bumped and rattled Hornpipe's cart, doubtless to the detriment of the puppets destined to afford a mild diversion to the people of the province of Connacht.

Every few yards Hornpipe stopped his cart, looked about him, and shouted, in a voice which

Image page 31
"There he steadied himself and looked down."
Image page 79
"Stop, stop, you young thief."
Image page 207
"The figure of a stalwart youth.
 
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