Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1884-03-15
Whisper

with bushes of mingled difidence
and anger
"What are ye more nor any ither
girl, that We can niver be spoke to !?
An who is afther spaken' to ye, at
all. Not /, l can tell We. 1t was to
whisper word 10 yer ear; it's that
| was afther dein',n replied Larry
O'Moore.
II wouldn't let We do that; so go
away now, ye great big mon, as
ought to know bitter nor to be tazen
poor girl whose mother isn't dead
a month-an' maxim her cry I'll
tell me grandfather ov ye!
"Oh, doon't, doon't; I'm afeared
ov her !" cried the great stalwart
fellow, struggling his shoulders in
affectation of alarm.
"Thin I'll till the schoolmaister, -
said the young girl, wiping her eyes
on her apron.
"But I'm not one ov his b'ys, and
be knows better nor to put his hand
on me. / could square him up in me
fist, Latin and all ~ cried O'More.
"Coom now, will ye let me just
Whisper word in yer ear 2"
"'Deed an will not, an I'll till
the praast that We taze me, an git a
pinnance on ye."
"Arrah, now, jist do it. He's me
frind, and he'd till ye to listen to
me-" said Larry.
Thin wouldn't haad him, if he
did. Go home, moo, an be aisy!"
BY this time Monica had reached
the tidy little cottage of her grand
father-who was the village cobbler
of Droggellan-and fled into the shop
like heightened hare.
But indignant as she was at the
young weaver's 'tazing," she did not
complain of him to her grandfather.
She said in her heart, 'sHe's an hon.
est lad, and he has no sister to taze;
what ilse can he do but to taze the
shyest girl he can find 2"
The winter was over and the dais-
les and shamrocks were peeping out
of the ground. Children, always
the first to welcome summer, were
scattered along the roadside, and
even among the crosses and head
stones in the churchyard, filling their
aprons with the treasures.
Monica was among them. They
loved her and followed her whenever
she would allow them to do so. She,
poor child, was gathering and kiss
ing the feeble little flowers that were
just peeping from the sod over her
mothers grave.
The little ones stood reverentlv by.
One was stroking her hair and whis-
pering some little words OF comfort,
when they were all startled by the
appearance of Larry O'Moore, with
his arms full of garden flowers. He
had come, not knowing Monica was
in the churchyard, to lay his flowers
on her mothers grave.
The children, with an innate deli
cacy which greatly distressed Meni-
ca, hurried away as if their presence
was not wanted, and Monica sprang
to her feet and turned to follow her
friends.
But Larry called after her:
"Am I SIGH an evil inemy that ye
run from yer mither's grave to be
ridof me ?'
~No, Larry, yer good friend but
-but,-I'm afeard of ye," cried
Monica.
"Will ye do me favor, Monte ?
And then I'll promise not to speak
to ye again for a year, il ye say so,'
said the handsome young fellow.
'Yis, think I'll do it-for ye
brought the flowers to the grave of
my mither," said Monica, stopping
in her flight.
"Will. thin" he said, rising from
the mound where he had been scat
tering the flowers, sit is-that L
jist wants to whisper word in -four
ear"
At this Monica darted off as fast
as she could ron, leaving Larry to
fill the place of mourner, as well as
of decorator, at the grave.
Larry folded his arms across his
broad chest, and looking after the
flying little form, said to himself
stShn,q a ethranUp cratur thoti To