The Jasper weekly courier. [volume] (Jasper, Ind.) 1858-1922, 1893-09-22
MY INDIAN SUNNI Err.
4 Pretty Romance OF the North
Coast of Ireland.

'Mackerel Fresh mackerel, Wan,
any, sir? just caught last night and
the basket of shining fish was laid
down for my inspection. In few min
utes half a dozen fine fellows were
transferred TO my keeping, and then.
shouldering his basket with bow and
smile. he was of. end the fresh.
clear, young voice rang out again
'Mackerel! Fresh mackerel-'
This was my first introduction "a
Ben. and IL took place at small fish
ing village on the north coast of Ire
land. where had chosen to spend my
summer holidays, ON account of its
quiet scclfl ion from the big world /
was tireds T. l had noticed the lad
before, standing among the other lads
bout the landing place, and had
VEN i.resistibly drawn to him. There
WY something positively refreshing to
me in his hearty ringing laugh, and
when ] first heard il went away anil
ing half unconsciously to myself. His
face literally brimmed over with pure
boyish fun. and the hazel eyes. white,
shining teeth, red lips, and even
the dark hair tossed about in the sea
breeze, all seemed to take par. in his
laugh That was just Ben all round
what he did he did heartily.
In few days found myself taking
keener interest in the lad than had
taken in any person for many = day,
for was crusty old bachelor, sup
posed to have laid aside love and youth,
and even sympathy with my kind, in
some dim, m usty cupboard, in q secret
chamber of my heart, Of which / had
lost the key. II such was the case how
ever. Ben found il for me. He was
about fourteen, and as fine lad as ever
delighted a mothers heart, with a way
OF throwing back his head and looking
straight ont of those glowing eyes of
his that made one inwardly remark
What splendid material for manhood
lies behind those eyes" 1t was the
same half-unconscious gesture of throw
ing back the head that first led me to
notice and then to love Ben. for. far
back in the bygone years. maiden's
hand had held the key of my souls |
treasure-house. and that maiden had |
the self-same look in her deep brown |
eyes, and the same gesture of throwing
back her head, and the faint resem- |
blance drew me like magnet
followed Ben about for week.
sometimes catching a glimpse Of him
rowing boat, with long. steady strokes;
sometimes shouldering his basket Of |
nsh, as had first seen him; and on the |
SABBATH was TO see my boy hero in .
new character.
The Protestant church of Sandy
Beach WIS perched on the top OF cliff,
and was only accessible FROM the lower
street by climbing q steep fight OF
stone stairs-a most disagreeable task
on wet day. In this weather beaten
little building was seated on sabbath
morning, watching the worshipers take
their places in the high backed pewA
The service began, and what was nv
surprise to see my friend hen stand up
TO lead the singing, with all the COM
pos"re OF an old and trained singer.
The sweet glad-toned young voice rang
full and clear and the congregation
caught up the melody, which over
lowed the building and fioatcd out in
sweet sound waves over the ouiet
graves outside. where slept those who
had once worshiped within these walls.
Passionately fond of music as / am.
touid not sing that morning. l could
only listen to the larklike notes. and
watch the play Of the young singers
During the service noticed woman
lar back in the church to whom the
ooy was evidently dear, for the dark
eyes watched him with softened light
in them. waited after the
service for Ben, and found this woman
too. Ben's curls were uncov- ,
rrea IN a-snoment at my greeting. and I
WITH simple st-aight forwardncs he in.
Mary"