The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1876-03-23
A TALE OF A BLUNDERBUSS.

The writer of this was born in a
house i'm the far west of Ireland. Nv
father was what was then called sur
veyOr-now heightened, / believe, into
civil engineer. His employment was TO
me mysterious and delightful. While
/ and my brother were cOoped up at
home, learning our lessons, getting in
to scrapes, and being whipped, he rode
gaily off to " the office" in town. How
pleasant it was TO be a mani No learn
ing of lessons, no whippings or tears,
no getting 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 but just finished "getting
off, fifty verses, and was afraid the
strap would be his reward.
As grew bigger, the desire no know
more of the great town, lying so near
and yet so far, became so strong that |
was ever dinning it into my fathers
ears. Why could not go to town as he
did? Why could | not at least 90 with
him Just once or twice? If he would
only let me 60, | would be so good. |
could ride behind him on the pony, and
would not bother him so much as even
to see that | sat safely. | would attend
TO all that myself.
Great was my joy when he one day at
last consented TO my wish Yes, rather
than be worried by me any longer, l
might accompany him to town. And
as he had given in, the sooner he was
over with the job the better. SO to-
morrow, the market day, the one chief
day of all the seven, was to be the day
in which | was to make my entry into
that world of which | had dreamed
such wondrous dreams.
Though longing SO much for the
great world, was yet child enough to
leap on my fathers knee, and kiss him
with delight, at the glorious news.
Then ] ran off to bed, there TO lie awake
half the night picturing to myself the
wonders | should behold on the NOR
row, 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 breakfast, and
was walking impatiently up and down
the gravel path.
When Mick and the pony appeared |
glanced at him reproachfully, for what
seemed his long delay. But when he
hoisted me up behind my father, and |
felt we were at last moving on the long
looked-for journey, my veXation vane
ished, and | sang out cheerily:
"Good-bye, old Mick! III bring you
something home from the town"
Goodbye, an thank We, Master
Dick. An the Lord SEN you home agin
safe an sOun'!"
"Not much fear of that, replied my
father, as ne touched the pony, and we
began TO canter quietly over the lawn
towards the gate.
al hope not, sir-I hope not, sir, - re-
piled Mick, while he ran alongside
'But these is ticklish times, sir, an
many dacent 'sponsible gentleman's
bin bate about these roads of late. There
was Mister Purcell last week, an Mister
Doran the week afOre. Aye, an last
night there was"
Nonsense, Mick" laughed my fa-
ther, as he quickened the pony's pace.
"They'd enemies, but I've none. There
isn't man in all Sligo County would
hurt hair of my head"
And next minute we were out on the
road, and Mick was turning slowly up
again toward the house.
Whether or not | enjoyed the town
after reaching there l can not say. My
chief feeling was, believe, one of be-
wilderment. The houses were so high,
the streets so narrow and crowded, that
felt choked, as it were. Twas delight
ed, and full of wonder, of course; but
when, just at dusk, the pony was brought
TO the office door, was almost as ready
TO return home as had been to leave it
a few hours before.
The day had been a long one at the
office, and looking in my fathers face |
could see that he was not in humOr to
talk, so | scrambled up behind him in
silence, and we were about to start,
when a voice of entreaty little behind
stayed us.
Hold hard, sir-hold hard, SIR"
came the cry. "Here's the instrument,
sir"
Looking back, saw a little man hur-
rying along the center of the road to-
wards us, and holding in his hand and
waving up and down a something that
shone bright in the fast-departing light.
Oh, ah, the blunderbuSs, said my
father. 81 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, and heldup the
weapon, San always like to keep me
word. Here it is, sir
THANK you, Connolly. Goodbye"
returned my father; goodbye, boys
all. Get along, Dolly"
Next moment we were Gathering away
down the street that looked towards
home at a great rate.
When we were well clear of the town
We slackened somewhat, for the road
had grown dark. Then my father turn
ed TO me little.
"Wen, Dick" he said, show have
YOU enjoyed yourself, and how did you
like the town?"
"Oh, papa, it was lovely" l replied,
as l squeezed his arm; land you're so
good for letting me come with youn
"Lovely, was it?'' he murmured, with
laugh which was half a sigh. "I'm
afraid one day you'll see as little beauty
in it as do, and be as tired of it as I
am"
Then he relapsed into silence; but
the tone of his voice had been so kind
to me that presently l made bold to
speak to him again.
Papa" said l, laying my hand up
on the butt of the blunderbusS, which
hung, mouth downwards, from his
shoulder, "is this the old blunderbuSs
that used to hang in the hall at home,
or is it a new one?''
ats the old one, Dick, my boy" re-
piled my father. "Clean or dirty,
wouldn't part with it for the best score
of Queen Bosses in the English army
"Papa," said, with something OF
shiver, and yet feeling attached to the