The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1890-01-11

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sHELLor HE CRIED.
room cried out: s'All as has blood in their
veins, get up! Any as is a man and not
mouse, get up! Take the love of yer heart
and dance with her! Or, if she isn't will
ing, take somebody else's, perhaps it will dc
just as we'll. But get up, men, get upr'
And to this soul-stirring appeal he added
the further entreaty of lively country Jig
on his fiddle, that set the girls eyes to
twinkling and their feet to beating time.
But the men all stood still and looked
sheepish. Tom, taking no notice Of this,
played on perseveringly, and at last by Q
sort Of mutual inspiration, without word
being spoken on either side, one Of the
young men and one OF the young girls stood
up together. This bold move won nod Of
approval from Tom. ''That's it! Now an.
other pair Of sparks, and the ire'u begin.
Ned--Mary! here, you two--what's come to
yer?" Thus exhorted, Ned and Mary got
up and faced the other couple. Slowly
stifay--ther feet began to move, carrying
them backwards and forwards in a monot-
his strings with a thwangl II wun't play
another speck till yer dance! Come now
wake up--go it lively! turn yer partner
there now--that's It'll That's more like!"
And stamping and playing, and swaying
and shouting, he seemed to infuse life into
the four wooden images like All electric
shock How they dancedl How their feet
flew! How their eyes shone. and how all
the room grew excited and wild with them!
Oh, there's nothing in the world more glad
than dauce like that! Where innocent
Jun runs riot---where every nerve and
muscle is brought into play, and where one
laughs like child through sheer delight,
without grain Of the intellect in It'll There's
nothing in the world so joyous as laugh
just because one is happy. And happiness
is holy thing-a glimpse of the other world
even it you come byit through the strains
of a worldly fiddle. That dance! All! how
glad, merry and rolliclking it was. All stood
up and danced. Even sober old Mother.
Bansom's eyes shone, and her feet kept
time. And as tor the young folksl If ever
there was good, downright wholesome EN-
joyment for them, it was there that night,
in that old log house.
AT last they had to stop for breathing
spell, and Tom, triumphant, shining with
enthusiasm, rested his beloved fiddle for
moment on his knee. "Let's have some
ciderr' he cried.
"And where's the nuts and the corn to
pop?' said Mrs. Ellery.
s'Ill fetch 'em," said their hostess with
pardonable pride, bringing forth bounti-
ful store. And then-the laughter, the fun,
the popping Of the corn, the sweetness OF
the cider, the red apples, the redder cheeks
OF the girls, the bright eyes, the nonsense
the breeze of enjoyment that was in that old
house that night Right in the height of
the fun and merriment Uncle Aaron quietly
left the room and went outside. Strange
to say, inside he felt lonely. He went out
side, all unmissed, and seated himself on a
fallen log, under the shadow of a tall pine
tree He was without o hat, and his strong
face was sharply outlined by the clear
light Of the room. The valley beneath
looked like painters dream-and he felt
its beauty. He heaved sigh of unconscious
pleasure and looked all around Just then
small, white, childish face came up out of
the shadows, and jacob taking a seat upon
the log beside him, said softly: Father"
He was not in the way. Another would
have been. The man reached out his hand,
and pointing to the beautiful shimmering
moonlit picture beneath, said under his
breath: "Lad, that ere is pretty"
For answer the boy sided up to his knee,
sat on it, reached up his arms, put them
around his neck and laid his head down on
his breast The big man just stroked his
hair and said nothing. just then a woman's
voice called out: "Aaron Aaronl Where
be yer2 We want some more cider!"
CHAPTER TIL
Eight years later, one day at the end Of
sumner, Jacob, then a strong young fellow
of eighteen, announced his intention of 60
ing to New York.
.sWhat for can't ye bide as Matthew"
asked his mother, ENORMOUSLY. "New
York; What will yer do there? Why can't
yer let well enough alonea You're better
of now than yer father was when we mar
ried. Yer have hundred dollars in the
bank and schoolin'-why can't yer bide?"
The young fellow laughed awkwardly,
and said, looking at his father, although he
talked to his mother: stI-have an idea
could do better for myself in a big city. /
think could feel I could.''
stFeelp' CALCULATED his mother, with q con-
temptuous shrug.
t'Let be, mother" interrupted Uncle
Aaron, sternly; tsdon't make game o. the
lad. He's old enough to have his bent, and
Tam going to give it to him.
That was all that was needed. The boy
wanted but his fathers sympathy aud the
woman but firm hand to quell her rebel
lion.
.sWel-lf yer say it" she said
Yes, / say it, said Uncle Aaron, rising