The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1901-01-20
II Fathers Bedrf.

on his way. stood out before Ills eyes
now with a saddening distinctness.
And he remembered well saying 10 his
convoy as they trOtted cheerily on:
Boys, the day AIieky Brogan comes
back, Yankee, viii be a big day for
Inver. It's nell make the money spin
or III give yez wan gay night, any
how"
And. remembering this, he put his
hand into his pocket and pulled out
both the contents and the pocket itself.
There was twO-shilling piece, a, six
penny and four pennies
An the clothes on ne back" he
said, then, but pitiful vans enough for
a come-home YankeeI" which was de-
piOrably true. For the first time since
ne mad set out his resolve to go to his
home and to his father weakened, and
he Wavered for several minutes. och
och" and he relieved himself of a sigh.
IN go in Gods name. If 1 hadn't a
penny in me pocket or a stitch to me
back. I'd meet a welcome from me
father he said then, with grim re-
solve.
When he came to his fathers door his
weaker self told him to Iinger and to
look in at the window; but his grim
mer self said, Mieky, if you Iinger you
are lost. He boldly lifted the latch
and STROBE into the room. His father,
with now a tinge of gray in his hair,
which had not been there in Micky's
time, was sitting on a low stool smok-
ing, and so intently gazing into the
blaze on the hearth that Micky's COM
ing in did not rouse him. Micky stood
few moments in the center of the
floor. and then strobe up to the fire to
his fathers side, when suddenly his
father looked up, and then stood up and
said, Stranger, I beg yer pardon, but
was thinkin'. Take that salt" I'm
cOmin'-back from Ameriky," Micky
said. From Ameriky, Indeed, an
yer welcome then, ceud failte,'' and he
took Micky's hand and shook it hearth
~. Sit down, man. Any wan from
Ameriky is welcome here, for 1 have in
that country a boy i me own-a boy
whose like We wouldn't meet, an thrav
el from here to there an back again.
a fine boy he is entirely. an the best
proud father for him. Maybe you come
across him in yer travels He's
Micky-MicSy BTOgan; he's fair haired
like yerself, but a dali stouter an
harder, an he carries himself like a
kings SON Would We have met him at
all in yer thravels2''
AIicky had had to lean his shoulder
against the brace, and had let his head
drop. He said, mo, no.
"Ah. pity We didn't meet with poor
Micl<y- Gods blissin' be about him.
But sit, man. sit. Ye're far from strong
lODhln AilttAkN 0iuL L rlF1ICC " III } =
poor fella, or We Overwrought yerself-
You're not from this neighbOThoOd?
I'm not" Micky said quickly. Il m
from the lower en- ~ killaghtee. III
not sit, 7 thank you for ye civility. 1
just stepped in for q drink, for 1 was
feeIin' drOuthy."
Poor feIla, surely, surely" his father
handed him a great bowl of milk. yen
not move until you ait, too he said.
4 couldn't ait If ye paid me for it
TUX a hearty male at Donegal An the
the drOOth's left me, too" he said, leav-
ing down the bowl of milk when We had
put it to his lips.
It's sorry 1 am that We didn't meet
our Micky- In trOtht an it's him is
ever glad to see anywan ever left the
barOnry. An it's him makes much "
them. Ye would a been proud " Micky
if We had seen him. Them that comes
home that has seen Micky, they'd nived
tire taIkin' " him the'grand fella en-
tireIy an credit to his father. that he
is. An he'd a been sending such
heartsOme messages to me with We.
Och. God bliss Micky,' The Yankee
was moving very uneasily from one
foot to another, but Connal stood be
tween him and the door.
Poor Micky's dOin' better than ever
a boy whit out " the parish atore or
| since-every wan comes home tells me
that But he couldn't otherwise nor
well, for he was the fond son iv his
l father. Micky, gOin' away, sayed he'd
niver forget me. an he niver did An
/ I'm waitin' every day ever rise, want
| in to see Nicky, a jintleman from the
l crown iv his head to the sole iv his
/ foot, come sthridin' in " the dOOre
with his two hands out to the father
/ he niver forgot. An afther that, any
I time God chooses to call COnnal Brogan
he'll die a happy man. God Almighty
/ bliss poor Mickyi"
In a thick voice and tremulOuS, Micky
! Brogan said, Good night, Thanky!'