The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1886-01-09


may be to-day" and her eyes frightened.
81 can not tell for certain, however But
| when he does come we shall all go home
| together to the cool, green Kerry meadows
and its beautiful lakes. You have heard, l
| dare say, of the lakes of Killarney:"
l admitted had read of Them but begged
her to describe them, which she did in a
| rather rambling fashion, stopping fire.
| quently to inquire if she were wearying me.
| At last the clock warned me that it was
getting late and l rose to go.
Gam / to have the pleasure Of seeing you
again?n asked Miss Moonshee as she took
my proffered hand. ''Mally and are not
| very enter Gaining, but we should be de-
| lighted to see you if you care to come"
81 shall be very pleased to come" l re-
| my leave, being followed to the gate by the
| old Irishwoman, 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 your
new friend is neither more nor less than a
harmless lunatic."
My fathers opinion of Miss Moonshee did
| not greatly aStonish me. There was
| decidedly something peculiar about her;
but, argued |, 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, | be-
came the daily visitor and intimate friend
of its mistress. had learned to love poor
| little Miss Moonshee with a protecting
fondness, such as the young and strong
Moreover, TO me She seemed the embodi-
ment of that old world refinement that, as
sertIve young colonial as | was, l could
thoroughly appreciate. And she chung 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 a Saturday after
noon, she would MARBLE plantive Irish
bal ads to her harp 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,n to piano
accompaniment; and when Mally's national
enthusiasm was sufficiently stirred by its
irresistible passion and pathos, to dash into
jig, thereby setting the old woman
capering like true daughter of Erin.
Mally invariably apologized to her mis-
tress for shaking her foot,' as she termed
the antics she INDUCED in; then, bestowing
an admlrlng glance on me, usually added
insinuatingly: "Sure, miss, nobody as
hadn't drop of the real ould blood could
lit the tune as you do.'
you think she has Kerry blood in her
veins, Mally3" Miss Moonshee would say
with a smile.
'Sorra a doubt of it; and if Mashter
Shane heard her play The Rocky Roads to
Dublin he'd say the same"
IL, 1aI 80, $, i L
the mention of the foregoing name, and l
noticed that Immediately afterward she be-
came restless, making frequent excursions
to the window, from which she returned
signing heavily. l had long ago identified
"Mashter Shane" with the dear friend whose
advent she anticipated. ''Some old lover" |
said to myself, knocking about the world,
but still confidently expected by the faithful
heart that believed in VOWS long since for
gotten by the wanderer." Was this how
matters Stood or was the much-talked of
friend phantom of poor little Miss Moon
shee's weak brains
put the question rather abruptly to old
Mally one day when engaged interviewing
her parrot in the Kitchen "Who is Mr..
Shane! And do you really expect himl"
The old lrishwoman's face went as white
as the table napkin she was ironing. "What
put 1t into your pretty head to aSk!'' she in
CURED, coaxingly, but with a suspicious
glance.
" lAlfsasiilly; have thought more than
once, as the Scotch say, he is lang in comm"
you may well say long, miss, returned
old Mally, tearfully. '"Tisn't in this world
Miss Kathleen will ever set eyes on him"
"You don't mean to say he is deadp'
exclaimed.
The old woman nodded mournfully; then
asked in a whisper if l were quite sure her
mistress was asleep. Yes; | was quite sure
she dozed off while I was playing one of
rf1, 81, ar,I / g+A1
the room, had fallen into a profound SUM
Der.
''The saints send her dreams of Masther
Shanel' piously calculated Mally, who,
like her mistress, belonged to the ''ould re-
ligion;" ''for It's the only comfort she has,
poor darling"
''But Mr. Shane, who was he9" put in
eagerly.
Gone of the ould O'Connells, of course.
Kings they were before the Conquest, miss,
and from first to last an open-handed race.
And by reason of that same generosity,
Masther Shane when he came of age found,
that saving the ould hall and two hundred
acres of bog sorra foot of the great
estates of his ancestors belonged to him
And now, miss I'll tell you the whole story,
for it's you deserves to be treated like
friend of the family, so kind you've been to
my poor lady. There was solemn look on
her wrinkled face as she made the promise,
and without further preamble old Mally
related her tale, somewhat as follows:
"Miss Kathleen and Masther Shane were
cousins, and reared together at the hall by
Miss O'Connell, their aunt, for they were
orphans. Fine childer they were, and they
grew up among the kindly Kerry folks, who
loved them for their own sakes, as well as
for the good blood that showed itself so
plainly in both. For hadn't Miss Kathleen
the bloom of the rose, the eye of the dove,
and the sweetest temper in Ireland? And
rUaS Moctbpr Shana fa ii and bandSOmp
with curly black hair, the eye of the hawk,
and bould bearing of the OConnells? Sure,
they were made for each other, everybody
said; and so they seemed to think, the
young masther being barely one-and-
twenty, and his cousin but eighteen when
they were betrothed Wirra! but sorrow
was at hand. Miss O'Connell, the aunt
died; and her income, that had kept them
all comfortable died with her; so, as | said
before, except the ould hall, bit of wet
| bog. and a trihe of money in the bank,
Masther Shane was left penniless. As fol
Miss Kathleen, her sweet face was hel
fortune.
''Well miss, the poor young masther wa
nigh desperate; he couldn't tear himsel
away from his cousin; and if he married
her there was little but starvation before
them. Twas mighty hard on the younl
creatures; but the darker things looked
the closer they chung to one another; anC
however respondent he might be, the
masther had always smile for Miss Kath
leen; while she, God bless her, loved thu
very ground he walked on. l had nurseC
than both ca If n,1ita natural thax