The record-union., 1894-04-21

beyond.
One wild April day, nearly year later,
storm was beating furiously upon the
island. 1t lashed and tossed the bare
branches OF the huge sycamore trees sur
rounding Bishops court, just above Kirk
michael across the island from Maugh-
old Head, ratified the tiles of the battle
mented structure and beat wildly at the
shuddering panes OF its great windows.
The Honorable, the Right Reverend
Horatio Powers, Bishop OF Sodor and
Man, sat at the table of his fine library
half doing, before huge pile Of manu-
scripts and books. The conflict and
wailing of the elements without intensi-
fed the comfort and cheeriness within.
The blaze of the fireplace leaped or
dimmed as if responsive to the furies or
cessation OF the storm, and the good
bishop read or wrote and thought and
doZed.
He was engaged upon pastoral letter
to the clergy of the island, counseling
that they deal most gently with the treas
ured superstitions OF the peasantry, show
ing that the fairy world of Mainland was
still filled with the purest and best Of
pagan mythology, which was in itself a
code of ethics for the restraint of simple
minds, and that the church should seek
not to antagoniZe its children through
deprivation of harmless and dearly-loved
cred, patriotic and tender relation of the
ManXman'S life since brave King Orrey's
time, but should first and ever seek to in
still the great precept that true religion
Is pure life.
indeed wrote the bishop, bending
over his manuscript after glance at the
old ManX tones which he had been con-
sulting, 81 am not sure but that, should
| ever meet the kindly phynnodderee
hn hoh n i,.lrr ioh
should heartily thank him for the good
his brotherhood had accomplished, and
earnestly attempt to secure the aid of
more workers in his chosen calling of
rescuing the weak and downtrodden and
encouraging the doers of wrong"
Here the bishop became conscious of a
presence in the room, and turned with a
kindly but almost startling exclamation
of surprise, as he saw the dripping figure
of Densie Quillian with his own fireplace
as background of fickering light be-
hind her.
BLESS me-" repeated the bishop as he
noticed her fair face and dripping gar
ments.
"T've done it already, sir, wiz every
breath and every step from Maughold
Head.'
THAT is much blessing and long one"
returned the bishop seriously, but how
came you In this roomY'
"Oh, sir, l told the servant I had let
ter for your reverence from the phynn-
odderee, an he told me TO come right in
as you were wantin' such things right
away, sirv'
The bishop smiled, for he remembered
he had closely questioned his old Manx
servant not half hour before and with
little avail, as to his personal knowl-
edge of this intangible but omnipresent
imp.
"What is your name, my girl?'
"Densie-Densie Quillian, SIR"
"Well, Densie, have you the phynnod-
deree's note with you?'
"Oh, yes, your reverence" said the girl
with a smart curtesy. as she handed him
piece of crumpled paper. 1.-The phyn-
nodderee said it was the only hope poor
old Granny and had left"
The bishop settled the storm beaten
thing in a chair close to the comforting
fire and took the piece of paper to his
library window. He read it again and
again carefully. He finally laid the pa
per with his manuscripts upon the table,
paced the room for a little time, and at
last came and stood beside the girl, lean
ing in a tatherly way against the old
carved fireplace.
Then little by little, he drew from her
all her sad story Of her fathers death, her
lovers disappearance, the false claim of
the dead mans debt, the stealthy asser-
ton and reassertion Of Johnny Bill Cronk
among the isherfolk and villagers until
it had passed into that manner OF neigh
borhood of belief which often transforms
falsity into guise of tact, the wretched-
ness of her old grandmother now half
i'm becile through mortal fear of eviction
and penury, and the endless prosecutions
of the coffin maker of st. Maughold,
which were to culminate in few weeks.
did not some strong arm interpose, in
the utter loss of their little home and
flocks.
"Densie, how often have you seen the
phvnnodderee?"
"Oh, sir, never but this once, your rev.
erence; but granny saw many o. them in
her younger days"
"Where did you see this one?"
sit came by the window against the
byre an beckoned me out th' door,
''Did your grandmother see it, too.
Densie?"
'.Oh, aye, else I dared not go to it alone
in the glen. She schreeched out twas
help for Ballakilley an curse for Johnny
Bill Cronk.o
"How did it look, Densie?'
''Oh, sir, like the fallen leaves beside
th' burn-ouyrish (brownish) like It's
head was a. tinney (hairy) wiz two horns
curlin' o'er t. front"
"Did it come closely to you, Densie?'
'sNo, no, your reverence. 1t hutched
an wriggled ahint th' darraghs (oak
trees, an cad out for me T. come no
higher"
'sDid 1t speak to your"
sob, aye, muffied like. 1t said: You
are Densie Quillian, daughter o. dead
Galley Quillian, an th' DEVIL begging
your reverence's pardon, Johnny Bill
Cronlz is robbin' ye an granny o. the lit
tie home your fawther LETT
"Then the phynnodderee said: "Will
We do as | bid?' l said aye, atween sobs.
Come, then, to the great clagh.' That's
the big fiat stone in the Ballakilley glen,
sir.
s'When 1 had come'd th' phynnod-
deree cried out once more t. come no
higher. Then it said, Look afore your
eyes!' / looked on the rock an saw tn
letter I brought you, sir. TAX that t.
th' Bishop at Kirkmichael,' he said.
Tell him your troubles, Densie. He'll
not turn ye away, nor fiout th phynnod-
deree. Beg him t. give the villain Cronk
th' old Manx oath on your fathers grave
in st. Maughold Churchyard. Ii he'll do
that you'll be saved an poor granny'll
die in peace An, OH your reverence,
if you only will do as th' dear phynnod-
deree said, you'll save US at Ballakilley
from far worse than deathv'
Here poor Densie burst into tears and
moaned and sobbed piteously.
"And is that all, Densie?u said Bishop
Powys, touched deeply by her uncon-
trollable grief.
''Oh, no, sir. not ali!'
Here she carefully unrolled from the
corner of her Misunderstanding gold coins.