The Penn's Grove record., 1885-12-05
BLACK HUGH.

a very pretty girl was Maudeen
O'Shea-the prettiest round about Kos
sanure-some said the prettiest IN all
Ireland.
She was slight and supple with a
cheerful sunny nature that for ever
bubbled from her lips in song, She had
dark hair that rippled back from an
open brow, deep blue eyes, n lips that
were ever curved in smiles. She had
the true olive tint of the Celt; but her
skin was soft as satin, and her cheeks
glowed like carnations. Maudeen iiv-
ed alone on a little farm with her mother
a widow crippled with rheumatism.
Dennis O'Shea had been dead many
years, and alone and unasslsted the
brave woman had managed the little
farm. 1t had been hard up hill work
it had bent her back and ruined her
health; but now she had enough TO
spend and to spare-she owed no mar
mot even her Notwithstanding, an
she owned The sweetest, prettiest COZ
leen in the whole barony:
Rossanure was not a place visited by
many strangers. though The scenery
was delightful. There were grand
mountains near by, a lake that teemed
with trout, and the roar OF the Atlantic
was sometimes born In on the wings Of
the breeze
Maudeen had passed thetwenty years
of her life in this peaceful spot. Every
market-day she brought In her butter
and eggs to the little town that lay Two
miles across the bog. and came BACK
her mother noted latterly, each day a
little later. each day with brighter
cheeks and prettier smiles.
Madden honey" said the mother
one market-day, taking the young face
between the wrinkled hands and gazing
a~nYiously into it, who's after spakln'
love words t'ye2'
Madden lowered her beautiful eyes,
and tossed her head and laughed.
They're just foolsl" the girl de-
clared.
Honey, honey, the boys don't think
SO if you do" was the quick rejoinder.
''Don't be'after playin' fast and loose
by any now, for ye niyer know how
such things end"
Then the good woman sighed and
went her way. wondering towards which
of her many admirers her beautiful
colleen leaned.
And do pray it's Hugh Slieyan,
the smith, she thought-''for he's a
grand lad with his taste for work, while
sorra a likin' has he for the drink.
And sure hasn't he, honest-like, asked
to be my son, and hasn't he got my
blessin' by the same token? Arrah,
but it's the rale iove-if ever | saw love
that shines straight out OF his eyes
when Madden stands forninst him."
The summer afternoon waned, and,
when the cows were MIXED and all the
stock made comfortable for the night.
and the widow was settled over the
peat-flre with Ter knitting and a week.
old paper, Madden stopped and kissed
her mother, observing that, the even
ing being so fine, it tempted her to go
for a stroll.
"Sothat ye're in afore dark and don't
go beyant the bog, honey" stipulated
the widow, smiling. "HughW be
there she thought.
So Maudeen went without further
1t was a lovely evening; the soft wind
was sweet with the scent O. newcut hay
and in the west, where the broad At
lantic lay hushed in repose, floated q
mass OF Dillowy cloud, scarlet and or
ange-hued.
Madden leftthe farm and turned
down the green lane that led TO the
highroad. A little. stream yelling out
from under the grasses made music be-
side her-the only sound indeed that
broke the great stiffness OF the noun
tame and bog around.
Maudeen was used to this loneliness,
and usually thought nothing of it. But
this evening she was evidently out of
harmony with the peaceful and familiar
scene, for, as she moved along,a look