The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1886-01-07

heart wa full. She just went quietly
about the house thinking of her cousin and
nought else. 'Twould have been a dull
time but for Miss Ellen Doyle. She wa
the one to be always singing, joking, OF
laughing, and the days sped rapidly until
ssf a ninth tn after after ia the young gentlemen sn,5 had
night remember it well, for sorra a bit Of
fish could / get for the dinner tina day;
and Miss Ellen laughed when l came back
empty handed, and says she: we sha'n't
sins t ss-daE sims h9all And "s So { 5Ssy S aidt
Passing nine o'clock, they would have
ME into the parlor. For, Mally,' says
Miss Ellen, we want you to tell US one
q your capital stories. Let it be about
our knitting in our hands. 1 was between
the young ladies, and had just opened my
mouth to say that the story 1 meant to give
them was called the Banshee of Gobkillin,
when, without a bit of warning, my darl.
ing Miss Kathleen gave a sudden start
The stock whip y she cried, 4 heard it dis
tinctlyr Miss Kathleen trembled like an
aspen leaf, and calling to mind Masther
Shane's words, my heart sunk within me.
She lay back in her chair without a sign of
life, her fair young face convulsed with
such a look of terror as l never saw before
or since.
toho uu lSl q uoSOol AIN SlohCluS W
Nh. Webb. the surgeon of the ship that car
ried US to Melbourne, brought him back with
her. He was both kind int skillful, and did
his best for my stricken darling: but he told
mortal bad one. Twas brain-fever she had;
and for weeks she lay 'twixt life and death,
raving ever and always of her cousin and
the danger he was in.
''The fever was at its height when late
one night young Edward Doyle knocked at
fsa door nohonat hut he had the had naws
to tell. Masther Shane, the last n best
of his race, was dead, murdered by the
bloodthirsty blacks. 1t was on the ninth
evening after they had left Melbourne that
unawares as they Sat round their campfire.
But a volley from the white mems pistols
sent the blacks back into the bush bowling
like tends Then it was that the masther,
into the wood in hot pursuit Of them. The
others followed, but in the darkness lost
sight of him; nor did they find the poor boy
till daybreak. He was lying under a tree
quite dead, the blood slowly oozing from a
deep wound in his side. He had flung away
his empty pistol; but his right hand still
gripped the heavy whip with which he had
seemingly defended himself against his
enemies. They buried him where he fell,
under the shade of a blue-gum, with only a
last of the O'Connells lay.
"Such was the sad tale young Doyle told
US, the tears running down his face the
while, for he loved Masther Shane like a
brother, and his heart ached for Miss Kath-
leen. The doctor shook his head when he
heard the story. 'Twould be a merciful
thing, he said, provided his patient did re-
should have faded from her mind.
'She did recover, poor darling, but very
slowly. At first, we thought her memory
was entirely gone. By degrees, however,
she began to remember, n by and by
asked for her cousin. TO please her, we
country; and when we found she believed
it, Mr.. Webb told us to keep up the delusion.
"Well, miss, there isn't much more to tell.
Miss Ellen Doyle married the English Off
Ger who was SO sweet on her during the
voyage out and went with him to Tasmania.
About the same time, Squire Doyle's eldest
son having been killed in the hunting field,
Misther Edward was written for by his
father. But before he went be had this
leep; aud he and Mrs. Major Gayworthy-
Miss Ellen Doyle that was-settled a small
pension on my mistress that keeps her in
comfort. Here we've lived for over thirty
years: and except for the longing she has to
see her cousin, it hasn't been altogether an
unhappy time for my poor lady. I used to
worry myself, thinking how lonesome she'd
feel II I were taken first. But since she's
come to know and love you, miss, I've been
quite easy; for should anything happen to
ogld Mally, l know you'll never see her at
The old Irishwoman mad told her tale with
emotion. Nor could I for the moment help
crediting the supernatural element in the
story. But at this moment Miss Moonshee's
voice was heard calling me by name, and /
hurried to the sitting-room. Never had I
seen her more animated. Her eyes were
sparkling, her cheeks crimson, and she
smiled gaily as l entered. "My DEAR" she
cried, II have had such a sweet dream, all
ohonf tho daor friand uOJ, hp va nffan hard
me mention-my cousin Shane. But I must
show you his likeness" And with fingers
that trembled sadly the poor lady opened
a locket she always wore, disclosing the
miniature of a fine looking. youth, with a
pleasant expression on bis frank, open
countenance.
SIS he not handsome?" she inquired, gaz-
ing fondly on the smiling face.
"He is indeed, l returned, feeling the
tears gathering in my eyes.
Dear Shane, what a deal he must have
gone through But he is really coming to-
night, ali! yes, and then how happy We
shall be. I may not tell YOU my dream to-
day." she added with a little laugh; ''but
to-morrow-you will look in tomorrow be-
fore you go to churchs Then, my dear, you
shall know ALL"
1 gave the desired promise, and shortly
after bent my steps homeward, meditating
on poor little Miss Moonshee's sad history
and harmless delusion. The morrow found
me an hour before church time at her door.
It was opened by Ma1ly. "Miss Kathleen
has oversight herself" she said; ssbut I'll
just tap and ask if she won't see you in
bed"
Repeated knocks at her mistress's door
eliciting no response, the old Irishwoman
turned the handle and peeped in. "She's
sound asleep, poor darling" she whispered,
Just cast your eyes on her, miss, and see
how pleased she looks"
did so. The expression on her face was
indeed a happy one; but there was that
about it which caused me to step quickly
forward and lay my hand lightly on the
brow Of the sleeper; 1t wasicy cold! Yes;
he had come for her at last, the long-ex
pected lover. For, gazing on the PLACID
countenance of the dead, who could doubt
but a vision of the beloved one had glad
dened the soul Of the sleeper, and left it!
impress on her smiling face, ere death hat
claimed its preyl
'Twould be a sin to wish her back, sc
happy she looks,'' walled poor old Mally
"But oh, Miss Kathleen, darling, why
didn't you take me with your
The separation was but of brief duration
The faithful old Irishwoman soon followed
poor little Miss Moonshee to the grave; ant
a white marble cross in the corner of tn
Melbourne Cemetery marks the spot whe1'