The record-union., 1894-05-12
his hand in kindly recognition and fare

y
Widow Neny was more than deserving
of all her good fortune. it was settled
that she should keep even more Inan the
O'Donogue had named. The remainder,
asst could not be easily distributed to all
who had come TO the hut the previous
night, these tender hearted folk quickly
decided should be given, as it was fairy
money, to the most deserving and unfor-
tunate in all the peasant homes OF the
valley roundabout.
And who was that one? Why, to be
sure, Maureen avick, who lived in the
hut against the edge of the Upper Lake,
whose mother and father were taken py
| lever years before; whose old grand
mother had been put under the sod that
day week, and who, mite that she was.
had kept the tnatch above the hut and
the wolf of an agent from out the door
until now, by selling crosses in Killarney
| Village below. And who was 1t beside
the little Maureen who had been warned
but yesterday out OF her now yOiceless
home, which she had bravely barricaded
with rocks and turf? And who but she
was determined that as long as strength
and boiling water should last the agent
and bailitfs should not set foot beneath
the thatch where her dear ones had died,
and where her own poor life had opened
upon the toll and sorrow which knit
The heart so desperately to its humble
own?
Rejoicing they called "Maureenr'-
"Maureen" and 'Maureen, darlint and
dearp' for she had been with them silent,
big-eyed, wondering and almost unheed-
ed, all the long eyentiul night.
They scurried about the cabin, hunted
in the hedge. scrambled upon the ledge
| OF rocks and called Shrilly back toward
the BRAIN bies, the copses and boisterous
| stream, but Maureen Donohoe, the little
cress seller of Killarney, was nowhere to
be found.
.'Blissed etarnity!' But if the fairy
man has taken her thin?' gasped Mother
| HenneSsy, returning almost breathleSs
to the cabin.
1t was indeed a weird wailing that now
went up from the women, for Maureen
was beloved of all, but bold Tim Kim
sella, brave Larry Toier and lively Jerry
Gloghlan soon calmed their grewsome
| misglvings with some words of tine
caution about misdoubtin either the
native cunning of the little cress seller Of
Killarney, or the friendly and generous
intentions of their ghOstly visitor, of
which they already held shining proof.
SO, after agreeing to meet again that
evening at Widow Neny's now almost
| enchanted cabin. with any word which
might meantime be had from the waif
| who had so mysterlOusly left them, they
departed to their several homes for the
rest they sorely needed after the strange
! adventures OF the night.
From just above the Widow Neny's
cabin the great coach road between the
sea and Killarney descends almost N full
view of the dreamful lakes. 1t passes
over escarpments hewn from the rocky
mountain sides, upon causeways under
meath which thunders mountain cascades,
or giIdes through tiny wales of successive
| lower levels, and, finally sweeping over
short reach OF yerdure-covered cham
paign land, winds beneath aged yews and
sycamores into the curious. low-lying
Killarney hamlet OF villas and huts.
1t was down this magnificent roadway
that the benign and venerable O'Dono-
ghue passed with buoyant tread, the
morning breeze playfully rippling his
silvery hair about his neck and head, his
eyes kindling with joyousness as they
rested upon countless we'll remem bered
| scenes and with an almost ecstatic
homecoming face
Every one of the lowly he met upon the
highway, or who peered at him from
cabin window near or far, seemed pos
sessed of instant determination to betak
| themselves to flight, or of sudden desire
to do him extraordinary and even out
| landish reverence.
Laffy Duff, the village shaughran, bask-
ing III the early sunlight on a causeway
coping, caught but one glance of the
comely old man when, at the risk of his
life, he incOntinently slid into the tum-
bling stream below.
Nelly Dooly, bringing fresh rolls of
butter from the Mangerton Mountain
dairieS and Overtaken the O'Donoghue
upon the highways, dropped her dew wet
creel in the road, fell upon her knees in
an attitude of alteration, and, as the
smiling pilgrim tossed some coin into
her basket, fled with hysterlcal thanks
and blessings, screeching the news into
the hamlet below.
The aged stone breaker stopped his
pecking in the ''stone-pocket" of the
roadway wall, and with tears of delight
streaming down his gaunt old face
gurgled pitifully through his head duck
ings and salutations, Faith, I'd break
stone. hard as the divips forehead T. me
dying day, fur th' great grab for
tune) av an hour like this!" whereupon
coin jingled among the rock chips at his
side, and the kind old pilgrim passed
smilingly on.
Whether from the frequency of these
demonstrations, or because of some un-
accountable vagarous mood, for none
would be bold enough to measure the
fairy mind, the O'Donoghue soon turned
! from the main highway into hedge
bordered lane which led to the shores of
the upper Killarney Lake. Far below
him stood lonely hut He gazed at it
long and earnestly, and with holdings
of his head and with signing exclanla-
| tions of s'The sane the same!u moved
| forward toward it with quickened pace.
He suddenly stopped and looked down
beside him, for warm little hand had
stolen into one of his own.
/ A young girPs face was upturned as he
| looked. Dimples and freckles were upon
it, but it was round and rosy and red.
The bluest blue eyes that ever were seen
looked out from it, and tight, black little
l<~tl lIlfl a. "A
from her trotting to keep pace with the
O'Donoghue. about her tiny ears and
head, from which an old black braideen
had fallen upon as round pretty should
ers as ever tantaized the heart of brave
Kerry lad. A little blue bodice impris-
oned plump little form and ample short
| skirts of rough wooden stuff, dyed a
dingy madden, fallen just below her
knees, disclosed to her venerable COM
panion pair of dainty bare feet which,
whipping through the grass and morn
ing dew, had been turned from white to
rosy pink.
81 knew the dear O'Donoghue would
come" murmured the mite of a maiden
in voice even more melodious than the
whipping brook beside the hedge. 1.-THE
old granny promised it afore she died.
heaven send her peace!o
s'Blcss me-" said the O'Donoghue, with
a kindly, wondering smile, as the little
| warm hand crept around his big, fat
thumb with firm, proprietary grasp
''Indade did |. a thousand times thin
and now!''
Her eyes, which showed signs of bitter
weeping, were radiant with trust and
happiness.
'''Ah, Maureen Donohoe,' were the last
words old granny spoke, kape stout
heart in your little body thin, for th'
O'Donoghue I'll surely come; am whin he
| l,;c 1olya |, ,ic mil -,yh n IN
steed. or whin he slathers down the bo-
i rean. grand an, smilin' like q fine anld