The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1878-03-09

~~ocNAh nall 4ACLC MdS NV q ldI uiSI ;
daughter within many mile who could
scutch or spin as much flax of an even
! ing, nor one who could better milk a
cow or make a roll of butter. Bright,
intelligent, and good-tempered, with a
tongue as ready as her fingers, and q
sense of humor as rich as her brogue,
Dora was general favorite, and, as a
consequence, had numerous admirers.
Being by nature somewhat of coquette,
she managed to play them off one against
another with an ease and grace which a
London belle might have envied, keep
ing good friends with all, and giving
none the slightest preference. But when
it came to a question of marriage, it was
a different thing altogether. Dora de-
clared she was very happy with her uncle
and aunt, and unceremoniously refused
all the eligible young men in her own
and the next village, declaring to each in
/ turn that she would "as soon marry
Barney Athleague."
/ Long ago, in almost every Irish village
/ there was to be found hanging about the
/ farm-houses some poor, half-witted crea-
ture, called in one place an onsha, in
others an omadthaun, and in the county
Roscommon a softie. They were bows
without any knowledge of who their
parents had been, cast as children Oh the
charity of some village, from which they
usually took their names, as Johnnie
Loughlinn and Barney Athleague. How
Barney came to make his way to Glen
NADIA no one knew, but one day, when
about ten years old, he was seen follow
/ ing hunt. Stumbling over loose
stone, he sprained his ankle, and so was
! thrown on the protection of the villagers.
A glance at the lads motley appearance
and vacant face was sufficient to show
what he was, and, as in most parts of
Ireland, as in Germany, there exists
among the peasantry a sort of supersti-
tious regard for silly people, poor Barney
/ found food and shelter, now from one,
now from another, as, indeed, the softies
invariably did, in return for which they
ran on errands and looked after the pigs
and poultry, and were always at hand in
an emergency.
As rule the softie looked great deal
bigger fool than he really was. He con.
trived to live and be fed, clothed and
lodged without working. He made him
self at home everywhere, was generally
treated very well, and never by any
chance treated badly. He knew every
body's business for curiosity was one OF
his virtues or yices), and with the special
advantage that people thought he knew
nothing at all. All sorts of matters were
/ discussed freely round the hearth in his
/ presence, he meantime staring into the
/ fire, sucking his fingers, or rolling on the
/ floor with tbs dog, no more needed than
that animal, yet all the while drinking
in the conversation, and with a sort OF
crooked wisdom, Jreasuring it up Ami,
NAL tastes and instincts were generally
the most marked in the softie; as a rule
he was greedy, selfish and uncleanly in
his habits, violent in his antipathies, vet
with capacity for attaching himself
with strong dog-like fidelity and affec
ton to friend.
Such was Barney Athleague-perhaps
a trifie better and more intelligent thar
the generality of his class; and there
was no place in the village where be
spent so much of his time, or was so well
treated, as at Owen Kearney's; first, be.
cause they were naturally kindly people
and next, Mrs. Kearney's religious feel
ings made her especially good to the
poor and friendle.s; and there was nc
person in the whole world whom the
softie cared so much about as Dora
/ Wherever she went, Barney was not faI
behind. He was always ready to dc
anything in the world she asked him,
no matter how wearisome or hazardous,
When she was child, he climbed the
highest tree to get her birds nests,
tumbled like a spaniel into the river to
get her lilies, and walked miles and
miles to recover a pet kid of hers which
had gone astray. As she grew older. he
carried her cans when she went milking,
fed her poultry, and, in short, waited on
/ her and followed her about like a lap
/ dog. 1t was great fun for the "boys,'
who used to assemble in the farmers
kitchen of a winters evening to tell sto-
ries and gossip, to see Barney fly into a
! furious passion if any one he did not like
! touched Dora, or even put his hand upon
her dress.
One of the persons the poor softie
most cordially detested was Larry Kear-
ney; perhaps because the young man was
too fond of teasing him, or else too much
given to sitting beside Dora. How or
whatever the cause, the poor fool hated
him; but with a prudence which one
would hardly have expected in softie,
he kept his opinions to himself, and
watched his enemy like a lynx. Not
once or twice he saw the young man de-
scend from the loft where he slept with
Luke the help" after the family were
sound asleep, and opening the door, steal
noiselessly from the house; and after
much consideration, Barney at last made
up his mind to follow him and learn his
destination, nothing doubling but it wa:
the village public-house or shebeen, OF
the forge, which was often a haunt fol-
the ldlers to play cards and get tipsy in
But Larry went IN the very opposite
direction from what the softie imagined
Crossing two or three fields, he skirted 8
plantation of ash, on the other side of
which was a rath, or forth, said to be
haunted, and the resort of the gooC
people" The place was very generally
avoided after nightfall; and Barney's
courage was beginning to fail him when
Larry was joined by three or four other
young men. which revived his spirits,
and nerved him TO follow silently and
cautiously as cat.
On rounding the hill he saw there
were between thirty and forty persons as
sembled in the field, and after a few min
utes one of them advanced to meet
Larry. The softie, on seeing the mar
approach, concealed himself behind the
/ ferns and brambles, all his curiosity
aroused, and strained his ears to catci
the conversation; but the man spoke Sc
indistinctly that he could not distinguish
word till after little while they drew
nearer to his cover.