The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1894-02-17
FROM COLOONEY.

FROM COLOONEY.
He came to US when the last field of
wheat had fallen before the irrepressible
advance of the reaping machine, and con-
sequently at a time when fresh hands were
hardly wanted. His approach was leisure
ty and philosophical, his manner rs easy
as the flow of his conversation. his attire
light and picturesque. Diogenes going
through modern England could not have
maintained one 1.-THE of the quiet, semi
cynical self possession typified in the
bronzed face and humorous eyes that came
down the lane and shone over the garden
hedge like a new sunburst.
"The top of the mornin to ye. sor. and
many av thin"
Civility, as the proverb says, is a cheap
commodity returned the salutation, the
original purveyor thereof meanwhile adopt
ing an easy and graceful attitude against
the privet hedge that separated us.
"'Tis foine wither for the harvest, glory
be to God, and it's me own hands that il
Uneasy to he handlin fork or rake wild the
colleens beyant there. Maybe the masther
has job of worruk that he can give to a
man loike mesilf."
He slanted his head over in the direction
Of a field where half dozen rosy English
1asses were aged in heaping the rakings
of thick { of wheat. The employment
was easy and congenial. thought it
would fit well with the disposition of the
traveller. The master came toward us ut
that moment.
''Here is a man who wants work.
"Ah, God he good to yer honor, 50 do
indade. It's mesilf that has an iligant
hand at harvest worruk. And yer honor'li
give me job of worruk?"
His honor wanted no more hands, and
said SO abruptly, with certain pointed re-
marks concerning the assurance of people
who go idle at the end of harvest.
"Oh, papa! And it is not an hour since
you said you could not do without another
man to take Jobs place. Give the poor
man something to do"
The poor man looked over the hedge
quick to seize the opportunity. Miss Maud
. fresh and dainty as one of her own roses,
blushed and started under the frank adora-
ton of those wicked Hibernian eyes,
God be good to ye, miss, but tits only
raison that swate young thing loike your
self should spake soft to poor man as is
wanting worruk so badly. All, now, your
honor'll give me the worruk that the
young lady was spakin Of"
His honor gave in, beaten by the touch
of his daughters little hand and the AL
dacity of the bronzed features before him.
"lt's only a waste of money" he said
when the traveller, after a liberal meal,
had wandered away to the harvest field in
search of the much desired worruk. He'll
do nothing. These wandering Irishmen
never do
Certainly this one did not kill himself
with overexertion. He performed his task
deliberately, if we'll. There was a ten
dency about him to sit down every few
minutes. If he had an audience close at
hand he betrayed further tendency to
discourse on various topics.
''Sure, now," he said, as | stood by him
among the corn, what time the sun was
doing its level best to burn us all into rags.
"'tis moighty improvident this spending
of yer strength in the hot SUNLIGHT. It's
aslape we should be at this mint. Worruk
in the cool and slape in the hot-that's
how we do at Colooney."
"And where is Colooney?"
''Sure, yer honor knows that Colooney is
in Sligo am from Colooney mesilf"
"You seem 10 have wandered long
way from home"
'Ah, thin, but what good would / do
and me not havin seen the worrulds It's
the travelled men that makes fortins."
"Are you making your fortune:"
"Ah. sure, but I'm on the way to that
same Ye should see me at me own trade.
Me hands bit out at the harvestin. Did
your honor liver hear tell of Judy McCannS"
He dropped easily to convenient seat
amid the sheaves and prepared to dis,
coorse" at his leisure moved away, not
wishing to give him an excuse for idleness.
Looking around ten minutes afterward
found that he had not yet risen. He was
probably meditating over the story of Judy
McCann.
The man from Colooney staid on. His
sleeping chamber was in the hayloft; he
washed at the pump, dispensing in some
mysterious fashion with the aid of soap or
towel. He lounged easily about the stack
yard o. nights, but always retired into the
paddock to smoke his pipe-a wise pro-
ceeding which ingratiated him with the
master, who had no mind to see his stacks
burned down.
The women liked him, as they always do
like anything handsome and impudent.
He fetched and carried for them. One day
found him laboring under heavy wheel
barrow load of manure, which he was tax.
ing from the fold to the flower garden.
He was actually sweating heavily and
working hard without doubt.
"What does this mean" inquired. II
thought you considered this sort of thing
improvident.
The man from Colooney regarded me
with ahumorous smile. His eyes twinkled
and one Of them closed itself for an instant.
'AI thin, captain dear, sure and what
can a poor boy loike mesilf do when the
sweetest voice in all the worruld axes him