Omaha daily bee., 1888-11-04

the mountains. To the east and gradu-
ally nearing. were al hundred hills,
through which came to the sea the
laughing Ersk and stately Erne from
their legend haunted coughs behind.
AS we crept up the bay, beyond the pur-
pling waters before rs, iay the dark rim
OF inner shores, where, to the south, be-
yond the ruined tower where wrote the
-Four Masters" glinpses were caught
Of the low roofs OF ancient Ballyshan-
non, at the Erne-mouth; and where our
course lay to the north through the:
narrow gap, was seen the quaint old
town of Donegal, set like a ru sset
nest by the waterside with it's
twin grim mountains towering darkly
against horizon skies of safforn behind.
This was the heart-spot of Ireland's
wild northwest Bewitched by the scene
| had become oblivious in my immedi-
ate surroundings. when suddenly our
little craft bumped against the sides OF
u rottfng pier. at the rOttng old ham
let OF Salt Hill. the home OF many coast
ers and fishers of the region. Turning
to the unsavory spot, | saw sitting upon
the. pier-edge, with bare legs dangling
over our coasters bow IL surprising type
of Donegal maiden loveliness, Ian uncon-
scious watersde queenly beauty; girl
of perhaps sixteen indescribably win
some and fair with the sunset lights
playing glorious pranks on her face and
wondrous hair. She held one knee with
her shapely hands. and was rocking
back and forth slowly. Glancing first
at the stranger keenly; then quizzingly
at our skipper: and at last, steadily at
young Larry. the mate; she said cheer
lily:
'.Arrah, but ye wor long gone
father?'
Faith, but brought a great lord;"
| responded Our skipper" teasingly.
SAN might make bowld to AK where
| cts stowed?" the girl continued quietly,
perhaps rocking bit faster.
The skippar gave mighty wink in
| my direction; chuckled softly at his
| own great wit; and proceeded imper-
turbably with his work; finally supple
menting the mighty wink with the
| startling statement: 1--WE bro't we q
man, Meg-all the way from Belfast!'
| A deeper flush than was first there,
! came over the fair Irish girls face.
| Larry stood silent with sullen look in
his eyes. The girl arose quickly and
began moving away. Suddenly she
| turned, came close to the wharf edge,
and, as regardless of me as though my
presence were but that much space,
with look at lucky Larry that meant
more than all the poets ever have told,
or ever can tell, said with much fire to
her rough old father, but over his head
to the lad:
| "Ye took better one wild ye!-Larry
there, behind ye!' And then she sped
away.
The result of his playful humor stupe-
fled my skipper. Larry was in the sew
| enth heaven. And | was that glad for
the sweet, old drama there enacted, for
| the pride in it could not but sing in
my heart this little song to humble
Irish fidelity:
What eyes are like the irish eyes!-
| Whose tender blue
The vioet's hue i
| In dew kissed morn surpassed sure.
| Because the soul behind is pure, e..
| But he who wins knows all their glad sur
What lips are like the Irish lips?-
Whose radiant red
| On pearly bed
| Out-rivals dyeings of the sun.
| Because they ripen just for one,
| But he who loves for aye their honey sips.
What hearts are like the Irish hearts.-
| Hearts old and young,
| Through ages wrung
| BY dolor ever old and new.J
| Their ruth hath made them warm and true
| And woe-wroughJ tenderness and might i'm
| EDGAR l.. WAKEMAN,