The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1902-02-23
FAIR AILINN.
Being Tale of Sorcery and "A Magic
Harp.
BY Adds Dunbar.

BY Adds Dunbar
Clark, now, at the could wind blow
in the night. IT'S fine an thankful
yees should be feeiin' to be in warm
shelter an not wanderin' abroad, Sit
there by the fire an roast yer nuts
peaceable like, while I'm afuher tellin'
yees what happened once on a night
as like this as the two eyes in yer
faces.)
Az, twas a night worse nor this,
that the wind came howlin' an bring
ing the snow down from the noun
tains an pilin' it at the gates O. Breo-
gan Hhe Red. But little cared he for
what the wind might be dom. Twas
cheftain over the men O. Tough Derg
he was, an his house was strong built
o hewn oak, an while the roof was
but low, the buildin' was well shield
ed round with walls of earth, like a
fort.
In by a fine roarin' fire sat Breogan
the Red, though by that same" token
twas no longer red, but white with
years, his hair was grown, an near
him, at the feet O one spinnin', sat
Aongas, his son, carvin' a cup for
drinkin' from a bit o. wood, while the
men an maids went about their work
in. Breogan was dreamin' o fightin'
long past an Aongas bent over his
carvin', but ever an often they turn
ed to look at Fair Ailinn as she stood
in the glow O the flames, DRAWN the
thread o. white wool from her distaff.
Afther q bit she began to sing, an
so sweet was that same that only one
O the maids heard a low knockin' at
the outer gate. She stole out, quiet
like, to find who was there, an with
out stood an old man, carryin' harp
an seemin' perishing' with the cold.
She signed him to pass into the hall,
while she barred the gate behind him.
So alone he came to the doorway an
stood watchin' Fair Ailinn. with hun
CRY eyes. Never one looked up till he
said:
Save all here"
Then all eyes were on him an Ailinn,
putin down dstaff an spindle. came
forward an lead him to the fire an
took his tattered old cloak hangin' it
to dry. She bid a servin' maid bring
him meat an drink an not till he was
warmed an fed did any one ask with
er he came.
"'Tis a singer without name | am"
said he to Breogan, "an a wanderer
over the land to seek the one whose
touch on me harp shall bring me me
hearts desire"
AN what may that be?" asked
Aongas, lookin' up with fearless eyes
like a young eagle, but the old man
shook his head an said naught.
''EIave We music in yer harp for us?"
asked Breogan.
"Ay," said the n1an-an' struck SO
loud an clear a note that all ears were
listenin' for what might follow. Then,
of a sudden like, he broke into a war
song, with the clash O. swords in ev-
cry line-singin so strong an fierce
that Aongas sprang to his feet with
eyes flashin' as he had seen battle
nigh.
"Too rare a singer We are to be wan
derin' in cold an sleet," said Breo-
gan. "Stay here while We will" An
Fair Ailinn brought him a great horn
O. mead.
Now, afther time the harper rested
from playin', an sat on the bench by
the fire, leanin' his harp on his knee.
An says Aongas:
why for have We no head carved
on the pillar o. yer harp? IT'S naught
but a shapeless block"
For that l have not found me
hearts desire. But old I'm growing,
an no longer shall it be so. Give me
leave to carve on it the head o. yer
fair daughter, Breogan, son of Cenne-
digh.'
Leave have you, though no child
o. mine is she save in lovin'. The light
o. my house has she been since the
day l found her lynn sleepin',. "a lost
birdeen, on the shores O. Tough Dorg."
An Breogan laid his hand on her hair
like floss O. black silk it was-as she
knelt by him. An she looked up, with
love in her smilin' Then the old har-
per caught the gravin' knife from the
hand of Aongas.
"Bide as we are, Fair Ailinn, till I've
the image o. yer face carven out, he
cried; an all around drew higher to
see what he would do
An while Aongas was better nor
many at the shapin' o wood an horn
an bone, yet he could do naught like
this. AS they stood gain, the very
face O. Fair Ailinn seemed to grow
from out the block O. wood even to
the soft curl on her white forehead,
an the shinin' jewel in her ear.
Aongas looked long, an turned
away sore against his WILL but twas
his care to watch at the gate till morn,
an he went out to his post.
Rare skill have ye." said Breogan,
IAN if gold can buy the work o yer
hand-'tis for you to name yer price"
an hearken."
Then as they strained their ears for
listenin', came tremblin' on the air
a sound soft as the singin' @ Fair
Ailinn, or the rustic O. wind in the
deep O. the ferns. An the men an
maids ceased their comm an goin,
an sank speechless on the benches
round the wall; an Breogan nodded
drowsy like-an' the head o Fair Ali
inn dropped lower, restin' on his knee
an all under the roof. foreby the
harper himself, were too heavy in sleep
for dreamin'.
One last note he touched, an up rose
Fair Ailinn, her sweet eyes fast closed,
an came toward him like white mist
blown across runnin' water. The face
O. the harper was full O. triumphin'.
Gold first" he cried. Give it to
me hands,
He pushed the harp so that her soft
fingers rested on the strings an as
note wavered, there were his withered
old hands heaped with shinin' money
"'Tis me hearts desre!' he shout
ed. KNOWN that none could hear. He
lifted the harp an stepped backward
toward the door, playin' song so wild
an so strange that Fair Ailinn fol-
lowed, ever higher to that harp whose
head was like the shadow of her
own in the dyin' freight; till in a
breath she vanished. an naught re-
NAMED but the image Quick the
old man threw his tattered cloak round
him. took the harp on his
shoulder an went out to the gate.
where stood Aongas, watchin' in the
night.
lad.