The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1876-04-27
A TALE OF A BLUNDERBUSS.


The writer of this was born in
house in the far west of Ireland. My
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 II man! 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
asif 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 I
was ever dinning it into my fathers
ears. Why could not 60 to town as he
didp Why could not at least go with
him just once or twicep If he would
only let me 90, 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, I
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 I had dreamed
such wondrous dreams.
Though longing SO much for the
great world, l was yet child enough to
leap on 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 I 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 ewes 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 !
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 l
felt we we're at last moving on the long.
looked-for journey, my vexation van
ished, and sang out cheerily:
"Good-bye, old Mick! I'll bring you
something home from the town."
"Good-bye, an thank ye,. Master
Dick. An the Lord sen you home agin
safe an soun'!''
Not much fear OF that, " replied my
father, as he touched the pony, and We
began to canter quietly over the lawn
towards the gate.
!" hope not, sir-I hope not, sir, ;" re.
piled Mick, while he ran alongside
But these is ticklish times, sir, an
many a 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 las1
night there was
Nonsense, Mick" laughed my ia
Their. as he quickened the pony's pace
They enemies, but I've none. There
isn't man in all Sligo County would
hurt hair of my headn
And next minute we were out on ths
road, and Mick was turning slowly uI
again toward the house.
Whether or not I enjoyed the towr
after reaching there I can not say. My
cn,ef feeling was, believe, one of be
Wllderment. The houses were so high
me streets SO narrow and crowded, tha
ieit ehoked, as it were. Twas delight
co, and full of wonder, of course; bu
wnen, lustat dusk, the pony was brough
% the Office door, I was almost as read,
g return home as had been to leave i
iew hours before.
ile day had been long one at tn,
once, aud locking in my fathers face ]
eeald see-that he was not in humor. t,
saiA' SO scrambled no behind him il