The Arkansaw traveler., 1886-01-09

dear, she replied in a weak voice: and the ghost of smile fitted over her pal lid face.
 "Ould and foolish r indignantly re- peated Mally, furtively drying her eyes on her apron, and turning a beaming face toward her mistress. "Sure, it's Joking you are, Miss Kathleen. And what would Masther Shane say, did he hear you mis. calling his sweet Kerry rose P
 The old lrishwoman's words had q wonderful effect on the invalid. A faint pink flush suffused her cheeks, her eyes shone, so that for the moment she looked almost pretty. The change, however, was but fleeting. The color quickly faded, her eyes resumed their usual ex- pression, and murmuring something to the effect that one is always fair to those who love one, she closed her eyes as if to shut out some disagreeable recollection Presently she said, in low, entreating voice: "Oh, Shane, darling, why do you finger? Old age is creeping on, and am weary of waiting-oh, so weary P And as she spoke, the tears trickled slowly down her tain cheeks.
 l was glad when the entrance of the maid with the lea things reused her. De string Mally to place the tray on a small table beside her, the little lady sat up, and insisted on pouring out cup of tea for me, apologizing, while handing me the bread and butter, for what she called her rudeness. was overcome with old memories, my dear, so hope you will ex cuse me" The tea was strong, and un- der its stimulating influence my hostess became quite talkative. She told me her name was Kathleen Moonshee; that she was by birth native of County Kerry, Ireland, but had been for more than thirty years resident in Victoria. But l have never quite liked the colony, my dear," she said in her gentle way and Mally and would have left it long ago but for a reason of our own. There is a friend, a very dear friend, who has promised to joiH us some day soon, it may be to-day" and her eyes frightened, "I cannot tell for certain, however. But when he does come we shall all go home together to the cool, green Kerry mea- dows and it's beautiful lakes. You have heard, dare say, of the lakes of Kiilar- neyW
 admitted I had read of them, bu, begged her to describe them, which she did in rather rambling fashion, stopping frequently to inquire if she were wearying me. At last the clock warned me that it was getting late, and rose to go.
 "Am to have the pleasure of seeing you again2" asked Miss Moonshee as she took my preferred hand. "Mally and l are not very entertaining but we should be delighted to see you if you care to come"
 "I shall be very pleased to come," l replied; and shaking her hand heartily, took my leave, being followed to the gate by the old lrishwoman, calling down blessings on my head.
 When told the story of my adventure at home, at the same time declaring my intention of paying Miss Moonshee an early visit, my father laughed, and patted me on the cheek. Please yourself, Polly" he said, "but am inclined to think that your new friend is neither more nor less than a harmless lEnatic."
 My fathers opinion Of Miss Mcccshee did not greatly astonish me. There was decidedly something peculiar about her |; but, argued 1, that is no reason why l should not fulfill my promise. So it came about that two days later l again found myself in the little lady's parlor. This visit proved the forerunner of many more, until, from an occasional caller at the white cottage with the green veranda posts, bee Ame the daily visitor and inti- mate friend ofits mistress. lhad learned to love poor little Miss Moonshee with a protecting fondness, such as the young and strong sometimes feel for the old and weak. Moreover, to me she seemed the embodiment of an old-world refine ment that, assertive young colonial as was, l could thoroughly appreciate. And she clung to me, this gentle Irish lady, looking eagerly for my coming, and following me with wistful glances when took my leave. She spoke but seldom of her past, and although adverting at times to her long expected friend, seemed, on the whole, to prefer drawing me on to talk of my school friends and studies. Then, on Saturday afternoon, she would in wonderfully clear, true voice, the sound of which always drew old Mally from the kitchen. l was accustomed on those occasions to sing The Wearing O the Green," to piano accom- paniment and when Mally's national enthusiasm was sufficiently stirred by its irresistible passion and pathos, to dash into a jig, thereby setting the old woman capering like true daughter of Erin.
 Mally invariably apo,ogized to her mistress for shaking her foot" as she termed the antics she indulged in :; then, bestowing an admiring glance on me, usually added insinuatingly "Sure, nis ', nobody as hadn't drop of the real ould blcod could lilt the tune as you do.'
 "You think she has Kerry blood in her veins, MallyP' Miss Moonshee would say with smile.
 Sorra doubt of it; and if Masther Shane heard her play The Rocky Roads to Dublin,' he'd say the same"
 The little lady's face always reddened at the mention of the foregoing name, and noticed that immediately afterward