Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1888-12-22

49, 49,
glad, indeed. to leave the house after
thorough search has been made; and "
are glad, we know. 20 hear the last<latte
of their horses boofs die sway in the di'
lance.
Moreen makes upny humble couch agai
flor even this has been turned topsy-turv
in the fruitless search and ! go to sleep i
spite of myself. Moreen assures me thu
Mr.. O'Neill must surely have gone on I
MoneymOre with the driver, O'Flaherty
to see for himself that a fresh horse an
vehicle would re in readiness in the morn
ing, so that we might go comfortably o
our way TO Barn Castle.
Christmas morning in l~reland-shall
ever forget it, | open my eyes to tn
sparkling light OF a CHEEKY sunbeam tina
reflects itself over ard over again in som
tin platters on a shelf just above my BED
| see the fire burning on the hearth, SINE
the appetizing aroma Of the usual roastin
potato, hear the busting about of the busy
t~ireless Moreen, and looking towards tn
box,chair, discoveries, as surely as
live-the figure that looks as much like
bundle of rags as ever-poor old Cram.
Maginuis! Is she a fixture, then, nigh
and day. | close my eyes ~dreamily and
pair of lips touch mine. "Archie!' mur
mur.
Christmas gift, We lazy little craitherN
cries a musical voice above me. Her
am | wild me arrums full to oyeriowin
wild illigant prisiuts bought at Moneymor
this blissed moru-and it's tin to wan if "
have aiven a thought 10 give to me-fegs
but I'm left, the day.
"Oh, Archie, did dream it,H
'Drame it, says shei But, there
cushla, AK me an aisy wan"'
"Why, Archie, | mean all that abou'
Shane Magroo-and the soldiers. Where
were you, sir, all that time! Your wife
was almost in danger, Archie O'Neill, ant
you you ~
WAS spiudin' me last ha'penny on mt
ongrateful little wife, There, there, Mary
mine, don't we be maxim such awful eye,
at me Why, sure, nothing could harm We,
ver beautiful wan Wan sight av tual
shwate, pitilul face would melt the heart
Of a statueG stone intolrelyl ~
1t is no use. can never he angry long
at Archie. The rich, tender, mellow tones
Of his voice when he speaks to me are like
some rayishing melody thst soothes while
it charms. And with this Irish voice he
tells me where he has been, and Of the
news that has cont to him, that none of his
kinsfolk are at Bann Castle, but are
wintering in Dublin, SO we need not con
tinue upon our frlit.ess Journey, but
hurry across Lough Neagh and Gates the
Belfast steamer bound Tor Liverpool on the
following Wednesday.
say goodbye to Moreen Maginnis re-
luctantly, after having, with his consent,
shared with her the most of ArChle's
Christmas presents; srring into a close
carriage and am driven rapidly back over
the rough road leading to Moneymore,
After all l don't know that / am so deep.
~ disappointed at not seeing Bann Castle.
Could | have had my choice, I'd have
chosen rathertt romantic episode OF SC
novel a character as that l experienced in
the Maginnis shanty; and the hearing,
with my own ears, the story of the noble
youth who befriended the tenantry at the
risk Of his life. shall always feel a near.
ness to Shane Magroo since l have CHANGED
to be mixed up in the very search for him ;
and so muse and muse and muse.
=
Out at sea. Our good boat has plunged
through the waves of the North chan mel,
We have dipped down past the Isle of Man,
and Ireland is being left miles upon miles
behind US My br.degroon's arm is about
me as we sit, sheltered from all human
observance in q curtalned nook OF the
well-furnished cabin Of the little channel
steamer. use the word human advisedly
in this instance, stree | am sure the angels
must be near, so much a state of heaven is
it, and am content to hear the musical
Irish voice murmuring pretty nothings
and exquisite something's into my listen.
ing ear.
whist, Mary, ashore! Wake up my
darling! Is it asleep that you arer
mo, indeed, Archie; but it seems like a
dream to look back over the last three
days. Ishall never forget my Christmas
In Irelandr'
sand which part of II all. seemed the
most wonderful to You, Mary, dearl"
Honestly, Archie-dort laugh 1T was,
| think, to see how poor old Granny Ma.
ginnis sat at her post. Do you think il
chronic. Archle'n
"Chronic'-what might you mean by
that, Maryin
THAT box-chair; does she ercr leave itlr
t"she left it that night you were there,
Mary"
That's Just what she didn't do, Archi.
bald, dear"
Come, now, let ne explain. Can We
kape a saycritr 1t will have been no
ticed that my liege lord lapses ofttimes
unconsciously into the modern Celtic.
"Can We kape a saycrit, cushlaf" he re.
pests.
"Far better than money! say |. .gpn
very well, then. That was not Gran.
ny Maginnis who sat III the chair the