Omaha daily bee., 1896-04-05
"AND sUNBEAMs DANCED"

BY Gerald Brennan.

BY Gerald Brennan.
Copyright, 1896, by the Author.l
An we see the sun dance upon Easter day,
Then a the year round yen be happy and
gay.
SO sang the weak, broken voice in a mel
ancholy effort at an old North Country tilt.
Mrs. Todd. pale and pinched Of face, sat by
the grimy little window, striving to finish
the sewing of a shirt. There was no candle
in the miserable room by which to continue
her work after Oakland dark comes early
indeed in Larriker's lane, London, Il. C. The
shirt incomplete, there would be no bread for
tomorrow. Completed and duly delivered
with others of its particular 'arf DOZEN at
the little factory off Boswell Road, some sill
yer might be obtained wherewith to buy food
for the widow and little Geordie.
Now, the next day would be Sunday
Easter Sunday, indeed-and on Sunday, par
tieularly on Easter Sunday. starvation is
passing bitter. Wherefore Mrs. Todd
stitched very hard at the last shirt Of the
half dozen, crowning, grotesquely enough,
the joyous catch:
Then a the year round yell be happy and
gay.
GEoRDIE's INQUIRY.
Somebody stirred in the gloom, by the
empty fireplace. and another voice asked.
"Mother-is that true?"
as what true, my bonnie lad?'
What we sung abaat the sun dancin'
80 $500 Nayf oh NV ONo" hiNn II ~ ihnS
So speaking little Geordie crept out of the
darkness, and nestled by his mothers chair.
BY the fading light one could see that he
was a mere child, but of sturdy build as
became a child born north OF Tyne. Pity
1t seems that such a promising sprout should
be dwarfted and twisted in the fogs and mire
OF Larriker's Lane. The free air of North
cumberland would be the making of Geordie
that air which his father had forsaken for
the noisome breast of eastern London.
But George Todd, the father had ambition.
and London lured him from his home, only
to send him to his grave before the struggle
for fortune had we'll begun. So here were
Mrs. Todd and Geordie starving in the
dingy lane where the rain and the wind came
full often. but the sun in its brightest never
at all.
The pallid woman sighed, a sigh that was
half a sob. my bonnie lad" she said
lyons an old verse my daddy taught me.
/ mind well how we children used to stay
awake all night long, just to see the sun
shine come in at the windows and dance
along the wall. Lazybeck farm was a rare
place for sunshine. Geordie. They say it's
only on Easter Sunday the sun dances so,
and It's lucky-main lucky"
AN II the sun doesna dance on the walls,
mother, does It bring i'll uck?"
II suppose SO, Geordie," answered Mrs.
Todd, with another quick, nervous sigh.
The boy ~pondered a moment. "Tis little
sun therell be tomorrow morn on our walls"
he whispered dolefully. I'm afeard we're
goin' to be unlucky all the year round"
GEoRDIE'S JOURNEY.
Mrs. TODD remembered that her one win
dow looked westward-that a gaunt biscuit
factory lowered in front--that, even on the
brightest GUNNER day. Larriker's Lane was
a darksome, fetid place. She did not reply
to Geordie's dismal forebodings, however, for
just then the last shirt Of the lot was fin
ished. Biting off a thread, she carefully
folded the cheap combination of calico and
A4a - lt-o, o-I H. - -s.l "a -
a basket. Then she rose, brushing the ships
Of calico from her poor dress, and made as
though to take her bonnet.
Mother" cried the boy, springing to his
feet, "ye're tired. Ye must no carry the
basket tonight. I'll TAX it mayself."
NAY, nay, laddie-ye're no. strong enough,
an We dinna ken the way"
Strong, sitha!" exclaimed Geordie, lift
ing the light load easily enough. II could
carry ten o. yon. And the way? 1 ken it
well. So gaze to bed, mother, an I'll get tho
money"
well, ha' your way. my bonnie lad
said the weary widow. It's fine O. We to
help mother, Pm th,nkin'. = /" Here's
your cap, an a kiss under 1t. Make haste.
I'll be sleepin' before we win back"
In truth 1t seemed so, for scarce had the
tired head touched the pillow than Mrs. Todd
fell asleep, to dream, no doubt, Of her pleas
ant youth, and the pastimes of Lazybeck
farm. Geordie waited until he knew from
his mothers breathing that she slumbered.
Then he unhasped the door, slipped into
the passage, then to the Lane, and was
gene.
Boswell Road is a good fifteen minutes
walk from Larriker's Lane; but Geordie
trotted thither all the way, and made the
journey in less. At the miniature factory
a kindly French woman counted him out
sundry silver and copper coins of the realm,
giving him a whole half all to him
self. Cannily he slowed this wealth away
under his shirt, and started homeward.
IN ii CROWD.
He found himself humming his mothers
little verse about the sun on Easter Sun