Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-09-30
REMINDER OF THE EXILE'S RETURN
All Hands Deck 4 O'clock in the Morning te
 Get First Glance of the Irish Coast

his heart a thought for poor old Ire, land.
 But the time is passing rapidly now, the tender is drawing near its destin- ation. Roche's Point turns out what it appeared to be in the distance, a whitewashed pedestal with a military or naval fort behind it. A few miles further on and the tender passes be- tween the forts Camden and Carlisle. Away up in the hills the solitary red coat can hardly be seen pacing his 1 lonely rounds. But he is not so much l engaged that he cannot exchange greetings with a lutter of his white l handkerchief
 HighLwalled walks traverse the hills in every direction, and from the most unexpected places white handkerchiefs wave a welcome, and the heartstrings of the exile are given another tug. When England's soldiers give him welcome, surely the wanderer must feel at home. And he gazes up at the stupendous hills that frown with ball and cannon capable of sending an awful death to the unwelcome visitor that dare pass the portals of Cork har- Dor. But the sentinel seems to be a hearty fellow, for again and again and still again he waves a telegram of vel come with his handkerchief.
 Now is the time that the exile must be strong and withstand the temptings of his heart. The sun pours down strongly upon him, brightemng the way to the final step to shore. Faintly he recalls the old landmarks on either l side of the steep hills. A solitary farm hand here and there waves a EseSacme from the hillsides and the exile unconsciously feels moisture in his eyes, and his pulse tingles with an emotion that is strange to him.
 See" exclaims a passenger, there is Church bay. Manys the time had I a swim there.'
 See the red coat on the hill," says another; land. darn it all. if he isn't waving us welcome'
 l "lSee wonder; there is Queenstown" 1 says another, and every eye is directed over the bow of the tender, and pie ture beyond comparison strikes the vision. Queenstown, called after the late queen of England, is situated on a hillside, built on wall upon wall, un- I til a most picturesque series Of ter. races make up the whole town. But the most striking picture of all is large gold cross that seems sus- pended from the heavens. It appears to hang over the magnificent cathedral Eof St Colman, which stands high upon the hill, higher than any other build l ing in the old town. The sight has strange effect upon one who sees it for the first time, for 1t does not seem 1 to have any connection with the church below it. Glistening in the morning, as it was our good luck to see it for the first time, we could not suppress exclamations of surprise. The picture is one that cannot fail to dwell long in retentive memory or have peculiar effect on superstitious mind.
 Onward and inward the tender flies,
 passing an English man of war, and from the steel clad decks of his majes- tvs defender goes ringing cheer.
 Hurrah, hurrah for old Irelandr' is the answer, and the cheer that comes l back from the ship of war tells that
 many an Irish heart is there beating
 under British jacket of blue.
 By this time the whole picture of 1 Queenstown harbor is before us, a picture that compares strangely with the busy and bustling harbor of New I York, though the latter would be lost l in a corner of the former. It is sim, l ply impossible for the average Ameri- san to picture a scene more peaceful and tranquil than Queenstown harbor 1 There is a score of his majesty's tor IpedOs boat destrOyers, but they seem at lpeace with all around them. There is not even a curl of smoke arising from their water colored tunnels. There
 are not dozen ships in the harbor. l The entire village seems siumbering,
 though the sun is bright and high and half thousand exiles are returning to the land of their birth, to see old scenes, to revive old memories, to
 shake hands with friends of their youth.
 Will the tender ever get to the dock? It seems two hours since she left the big ship way out beyond the harbor's mouth, and yet ill fact it is only half
 an hour. But the dock is now in
 sight, red brick building, and high l on the roof is sign Customs House." To this the tender is steering. Will it ever get there? Everybody on board l is impatient, now that they see old Ireland. whose verdant fields send a sweet smell across the water to them. Everything in the land seems to bid them a welcome and their hearts beat high, and yet they are sad. Nearer and nearer the tender approaches the red brick building, the sailors prepare the gangWay and get ready ropes to hold her. Everybody grips his bag gage tighter, for at last the dock is. nigh the ropes are cast ashore and pulled taut, the gangway is adjusted, and at last the sea weary yoyagers, the exiIes, step ashore. At lastp' he exclaims as he to11cheS the soil: "hOne