The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1889-09-14
CHAPTER XIV.

A glorious morning; the air crisp ano
clear; calm, blue Sky, with all occasional
white, airy cloud floating high and quietly.
as if no storm had ever entered within its
realm, and a bright, smooth sea.
Such is the loneliness of the autumn day
that our voyage .1ame to a close, and the
Lady Clare hove in sight of New En- glands
blessed shores. America Oh for our delight
ed vision. We came on deck to congratulate
one another on the safe and altogether
happy transit, to cheer up and be glad, as
only Homecoming souls are ..-.
Some one says: "Sing Home, Sweet
Home,'" and forthwith we find ourselves re.
solved into blending Of song and chorus
concert. Poor Howard Payne! He per
haps never felt as we do; certainly not
when he wrote his memorable verses
which we so gladly sing. No; but we can
not afford to be sorrowfully inclined to-day
simply because he was unfortunate. 1t
CRATES a little on a sympathetic chord some
where in our makeup to say this, yetit is
true.
We put newer, sweeter pulse into the
music; we are all glad to get home, espec-
tally are we glad that it is an American
home, and there is no inclination even to
sigh, unless it be from sheer satisfaction.
It's all very well to talk of the pleasures
of an s:ocean trip ard the grandeur of the
voyage, but we four.d it monotonous enough
after the first day out. Perhaps for young
persons given to being very sentimental or
inclin.ll to Irritation, the hours between
shores may slip off ''satin shod,' but tc
those having too much practical sense for
either the one or the other, should say
time drags.
Well, here we are, and we glide into the
waters of the bay, our own little Narragan
sett. There are plenty OF friends at the
pier awaiting those on board, and again the
hardkerchiefs are waving, but this time in
glad recognition and not fearful goodbye.
But, as I said when started, I have nc
friends to bid me welcome only as ''fellow
citizen,'' as the politician says, and so
come ashore alone. The Stanleys are met
by pretty turnout, which whirls them
away rapidly to their fine residence on
Blocker avenue. Here goes clustering
lot of Storage passengers, strangers IN a
strange land, by the look of them. Finally
here go, a very eager woman, with multi
tudinous bits and sizes Of luggage. signal
cabby, and after a few minutes of "boss-
ing around' I am tearing away, too, toward
home.
kSNSpo
from the shattered hooks by the roadside,
and the half naked hills come to sight as the
city recedes. Yes, the dear, familiar hills
at whose feet nestles Bay View cottage. A
turn in the road, we pass a stone wall and
come to cold, bare-looking hedge, and
there Just beyond lies the dearest little spot
on earth to my heart. There is the cottage
"Half in light and half in shade" as the
poet Tennyson says. can never bring my
self to say "Lord Tennyson." Shades OF
the vine No! His wreath of deathless roses
and lilies and laurel didn't need the tinse]
and pomp Of ''ye Lord, not to my Ameri-
can,zed way Of thinking
d'Eyncourt, Lords and poets are alike for
gotten. Cabby assists me in with my lug
gage, ! pay him his charges and am once
more in my own domain and square with the
world.
But where is Miriam, whom expected tc
fly out ]oyously and greet me with a cry Of
joy? I ask myself the question with 8
strange foreboding Of evil stealing over me
then I noticed something had not, in my
unlading of the cab and gathering together
of my traps, noticed before. There was an
unusual stiffness about the cottage, and
through the half-open door comes a smell Of
medicine. Can it be possible? Yes, Mir
lam is ssvery ill., so Maggie says, as she
comes tiptoeing out to meet me.
leave my luggage forgotten on the little
porch and follow the maid into the house
with great pain at my heart. feel dumb
and dizzy with the anguish of disappoint
ment and fear, but manage to ask how
long. Miriam has been i'll and If she is dan
peronslv 40 She has been i'll for two weeks