The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1879-09-18
THE FAIRY GUEST.


low them lay Gartan Tough, embOsom-
ed in rugged, Undiscovered hills, and
above and around stretched mile upon
mile of mountain-acres of heather, the
abode Of grouse innumerable; patches
of grass, where droves of sheep and cat
tie grazed; and inaccessible heights.
known only to the golden eagle and her
wild brood.
DOnnel was a drover; I. e., he bought
up cattle, let them Craze upon the noun
tains, and sold them when fattened.
He was very comfortably off, and his
cottage was well built and matched. He
found no difficulty in paying his rent to
the day, and had always abundance of
such simple food and clothing as salts
fed his desires. 1t was a November
night of storm and rain. The gusts
Numbered at the door, tossing the bare
arms of the sycamores that grew near
the house; they had swept along noun
tain defiies and across the gray waters
OF the Tough, and now shrieked and
howled madly round the gable. An
occasional lull in the storm brought the
clamor of sea-gull and cry of plOYer to
DOnnel's ear. He locked the door, stuff
ed wisp of straw under it to keep out
the cold wind, and sat down opposite
Peggy in the ample chimney-corner.
- God send the cattle has found shell
ter the night" said he, shaking the
ashes out of his pipe.
Peggy was spinning. She stopped
her wheel suddenly to ask, q Did you no
hear something, John, dear?"
:" Ay, Peggy, heard the sough O. the
q Whist, whist, honey! there it was
again; it wasna like the wind -
Sure it was the sea-gulI an the
plOyer," replied her husband, care
lessly.
Just then another blast of hurricane
swept across the lake and Numbered at
the door, tossing the carefully arranged
wisp of straw into the middle of the
kitchen.
1t was Il pitiful cry, but it wasna the
birds, let alone the wind, - said Peggy,
listening intently.
"Wha wad come to we'er door the
night?n asked John, impatiently.
you're aye talking foolitchness since
that villain, that thief o. the world, Tim
O'Brien, went avail
Two days previously the servant had
taken his departure without giving warn
ing, or letting his master and mistress
have the slightest inkling of his inten-
ton. They had both been Overworked
one was cross and the other tired and
nervous.
Again the whistling, raging blast
Mrs. Donnel shivered, and muttered
prayer for all sailors and wanderers as
she threw more turf upon the blazing
hearth. There was a strange cry at that
very moment. She went to the door
and unlocked it, and while the wind
burst in resistlessly, it brought some
thing like a human figure in along
with it.
woman! woman!'' screamed the
outraged husband, jumping up with an
oath to re-shut and lock the door
As the cloud of turf ashes began to
settle again, the figure, the gift of the
storm, was more distinctly seen. A mis-
cradle, stunted boy, thinly clad, without
! cap or shoes and stockings, crOuched
/ to the warmth. He had red hair, large
blue eyes, and gentle, intelligent face
| Peggy Donnel felt her heart drawn to-
ward him at once.
&" Poor wean; but you're kilt VII the
wet an cold Did you come far the
! day?'' she asked
| The poor boy lifted his large soft eyes
to her face without speaking.
g Be seated an warm yourself; the
guide man makes you welcome
The boy sat down on the stool she
placed for him before the fire, and smil-
ed at her i'll silence.
"WhO had the heart to let the likes
o. you travel the night? What do they
call you, my poor, wee manPl'
No answer. 81 declare, he's a dunn
my, John,' cried she; " the poor
wean!'
The storm ragged on, but the wanderer
was safe and happy. He stretched out
his bare feet on the warm tlag-stOne, and
the steam rose from his rags, which had
been soaked through with the rain.
Meanwhile Peggy set back her wheel,
lifted the pot from the crook, and filled
a wooden bowl with mealy potatoes. The
boy eyed them hungrily, and when she
spread a handful of salt on stool, and
put a tin of milk into his hand, he need
ed no further invitation.
John Donnel'S i'll temper vanished as
he watched the child eat his supper, and
heard his signs of cOntentment.
"Where shall he sleep? Tim o.
Brien's beds not made YET
"I'n shake straw in the corner there
near the fire." replied Peggy, can
throw a wheen sacks over him. He'll
sleep rightly, III warrant him.
cay; it'll be better nor the back o a
dixie, I'm thinking - returned John.
The poor creature was now quite dry
and warm; he lay down on the straw
that the kind woman prepared for him,
but he first caught hold of her hard
hand, and pressed his lips upon it.
Look, John, loOk!" cried she, with
tears in her eyes; "did you ever see the
the like o. that?''
1t was twenty years since a child had
! slept under that roof, full twenty years
since small black coffin had been car
ried down the mountain, containing
! Peggy DOnnel's son, and more than half
her heart. She dreamed of her dead
son that night as she had not dreamed
far very long time. She fancied that
he came to her bedside, and begged her
to be good to the friendless child for his
sake.
The storm lulled before dawn, and by
the time the DOnnels got up to their
work the stranger was up also. When
Peggy took her milk pail, prepared to
go out to the byre, he sprang forward,
and took it from her hand Smilinolv
she consented to let him help her milk
Motley and Buttercup, and strain up the
the milk; then, while she made break
fast, he signed to John that it was his
wish to assist him also. Very useful he
was in finding the cattle, and driving
them to fresh grazing ground; and he
did hundred helpful things during the
day.
"He's sight better than Tim O'Brien.
Let us keep him and he'll be as good
boy as we could get" said John DOnnel
that evening.
"What name shall we call him P'' asked
,,1a l.