Ottumwa weekly courier. (Ottumwa, Wapello County, Iowa) 1872-1899, 1876-11-15
MTsCELLA.N Y.
OLD BLUNDERBUss.

The writer Of this was born in a
house in the far west of Ireland. My
father was what was there called a
snrveyor-now heightened, l believe,
into civil engineer. His employ
ment was to ME mysterious and de-
lightful. While I and my brothers
were cooped up at home, learning
our lessons, getting into scrapes, and
being whipped, he rode gaily off to
sthe Office" in town. How pleasant
it was to be man! No learning of
lessons, no whipping or tears, no get
ting into scrapes-nothing to do but
to please ones self; and yet strangely
enough, father often seemed to me as
pale and careworn, and weary, as If
he had just finished "getting off" fifty
verses, and was afraid the strap
would be his reward.
AsI grew older, the desire to know
more of the great town, lying 80 near
and yet so far, became so strong that
l was ever dinning in my fathers
cars, why could 1 not go to. town as
he did? Why could / not at least 90
with him Just once or twice? II he
would only let me go would be SO
good. Iwould give him NO trouble
of any kind. / could ride behind him
on the pony, and would not bother
him so much as even to see that 1 sat
safely. / would attend to all that my
self.
Great was the joy when he at last
consented to my wish. Yes, rather
than be worried by me any longer,
might accompany him to town. And
as lie had given in. the sooner the job
was over with the better. So to-mor-
row, the market day, the one chief
day of all -the seven, was to be the
day in which / was to make my en-
try into the world of which l had
dreamed such wondrous dreams.
Though longing so much for the
great world, I was yet child enough
to leap upon my fathers knee, and
kiss him with delight at the glorious
news. Then 1 ran off to bed, there to
lie awake half the night picturing to
myself the wonders / should behold
on the morrow, in the other half
dreaming that ! was already an actor
in the enchanting scenes that must
ever be passing before the eyes Of the
dwellers in great cities.
By eight next morning Mick
O'Hara was standing with the pony
at the front door, and father was just
about to mount. But long before that
time l had gulped down my break
fast and was walking impatiently up
and dow n the gravel path.
When Mick and the pony appeared
I glanced at him reproachfully, for
what seemed his long delay. But
when he hoisted me up behind my
father, and I felt we were at last
moving on the long-looked-for Jour-
ney, my vexation vanished, and sang
out cheerily:
"Good-byc, old Mick I'll bring
you something home from town."
"Good-bye, an thank ye, Master
Dick, an the Lord SEN you home agin
safe an soun'?"
"Not much fear of thBt." replied
my father, rs he touched The pony,
and we began to canter over the lawn
towards the gate.
81 hope not, sir-I hope not SIR
replied Mick, while he ran alongside.
"But these is ticklish times, sir, an
many dacent 'sponsible gentlemen's
bin bate about the roads of Late
There was Mr.. Purcell last week, an
Mr.. Doran the week afore. Aye, an
last night there was"
"Nonsense, Mick laughed my faith
CT, as he quickened the pony's pace.
"They'd enemies but I've none. There
isn't a man in all Sligo county would
hurt hair on my head
And next minute we were out on
the road, and Mick was turning slow
ly up agin towards the house.
Whether or not enjoyed the town
after reaching there, l cannot say
Ny chief feeling was. l believe, one
of bewilderment. The houses were
SO high, the streets SO narrow and
crowded, that felt choked, as it were
/ was delighted and full Of wonder
of course; but when, just dusk, the
pony was brought to the Office door,
I was almost as ready to return home
as had been to leave few hours be-
fore.
The day had been a long one at the
Office, and looking in my fathers face
l could see. that he was not in hui
NOR to talk, SO l scrambled up behind
him i'll silence, and we are about to
start, when voice of entreaty little
behind stayed us.
"IIold hard, sir, sir-hold hard. SIR
came the cry. "IIere's the instrument
SIR"
Looking back, saw a little man
hurrying along the centre of the road
towards us, and hold in his hand and
waving up and down something
that shone bright in the fast depart
ing light.
"Oh, all, the blunderbuss," said my
father. IL had forgotten it. Thank
you, Connolly; you needn't have fol-
lowed me with it. ! could have had
it on Monday"
81 promised it fur to-day, sir" re-
piled the old man pantingly, as he
reached the pony's side, ana held up
the weapon, "an' l always like to keep
my word. Here it is, SIR"