The Irish standard., 1886-07-10
MARY LEE,
Or
THE: YANKEE IN IRELAND.
BY PAUL PEpPERGRAss, ESQ.
Author of s:sbanay MCGUIRE" :"rhe spss-
wife, etc.
CHAPTER XII.--{Continued. J

$40 be sure
.sAnd then he goes about them so awk-
wardly."
ssHe. he, he," chuckled Uncle Jerry;
sithat reminds me his last number. Did
you see his criticism ON Cameron IS
Peems?''
".No-what does he do with it? 5tran-
gles it, I suppose
ssNot at all: he makes an exception to
his rule. He praises it highly. Cam
eron's % Catholic, you know, besides
being Scotchman y
'tAh, yes, there is something in that. y
''In speaking Of some of his fine pas
sages he tries 10 DE exceedingly nice in
his appreciation OF the beautjes'''
s'Nioe!" laughed Father John; s'tl>at's
good; / must read the criticis,n.''
s:Do. tits worth the reading, ( as
sure you.''
'sBut he must have gone about it very
awkwartily?''
t'Awkvart!ly! He reminded ME Of al
elephant T once saw picking up bou-
uuet with his trunk. He first made
b.
"'Huah! here he comes, full OF indig-
nation at Kate's presbmptuous bold
ness. See hoy he runs his thumbs into
his vaistcoat 11ockets--that's q sure sign
he's rutHed. .Kate,' he a1ded. as Ill
ottiset to further conversation, ''can't We
have some nnusic?''
''Certainly-wlat shall it be?''
"O'er the water to Charlie.' -
*::Exceijent-ius the very thing she
:ried, opening the piano, and rafting
away. '::IIow do you like it, doctor?'
:'Neli: so, So Associations make it
pleasant just now
'sMakas you think Of llome?'
eyes"
"Nhat think you, though, of our Irish
1nrasic?''
Every fair; but it always gives 1ne the
blues''
''rhe blues!';
"Yes. It's SO melancholy"
ssMoore's songs are, indeed, rather
melancholy, but exquisite OF their kind,
nevertheless y
''Yes--he is vary decent Lyric poet
is Moore; and there is nothing in him,
after all, but sentiment and fancy--he's
greatly wanting in force and power OF
thought
t'That is to say, he's neither Byron
nor Milton"
mo, do not mean that, either. But
he tires you with the incsssant play of
his fancy He is forever hopping from
flower to flower. like butterfly"
'Ah, then you adopt Tie criticisms Of
the Edinburgh Review"
'sI adopt no creeticism, I mako my
own, " replied Henshaw, grufiy.
'sWel], you think with the Scotch Re-
viewers, that his poetry is too full OF
beauties, and hampered too much with
imagery"
II think simply this: he was vary
respectable songster in his way, but al
imnortal man and bad Kaatholic.'
so, doctor, that is not fair. ] must
protest against your bringing up
our poets private character, 1t is not
1naguani1nous Of YOU at an.''
ellis poetry, take it all through, per
sisted Heusbaw, sshas done more to en-
cryate and corrupt the minds of the
young, than any other am acquainted
wi; and do you know The reason, Miss
Pete1sham?'
:sNo.o
t'Well, it was simply because in los
ing faith he lost his mortality also.''
"My dear sir, we have nothing TO do
with his faith,'' replied Kate. "Why.
you drag iajrh into every thing. Can't
we admire mans writings without first
inquiring about his faith?'
Eyes, that is vary true; but it strikes
ane you value faith too little, and for
that reason you cannot estimate mans
writings. We Kaatholics deesapprove
OF all books and writing injurious to
faith OR morals. You Protestants have
no faith at all, and you let your morals
take care of themselves.
"Hlghty tightly" muttered Uncle
Jerry, running bis hands again under
his coat tails, and pacing the room as
before; she is at it again.
Father John rose also, and turning
Kate round on the piano stool, COM
nnanded her, under pain OF his sovereign
t7ispleasure to play .sThe last rose of
summer with Henry Herzs variations
first aud them sing il.
:s.Now,'' she exclaimed, when size fin
ished the song nov, DR.. Henshaw, I
put it to you as an honorable man; did
You, or did you not, ever hear so exqui-
site song as that?"
ssThe words or the music?"