Smyrna times., 1906-08-22
Low E RS
LUCK
BY Constance darcy N1ackay
Copyright, 1906. by c. H. sutcliffe


worn footpath, balancing a bag of meal |
on his back, he caught sight of Moira |
Nolan washing linen in the little river |
that brawled its way through the viii |
lage of Ballymoran. The brook gushed |
and sang over it's pebbles, and Moira's
young voice sang with it as her white
arms flashed in the clear water She
was on her knees, straight and supple
as a willow, her bare feet tucked un-
der her with only the rosy heels show
ing The wind caught a strand of her
hair and whipped it out till it shone
like beaten gold in the sun Barry
paused, dazzled, and gazed at her. his
mouth agape, his sack of meal forgot
ten on his back. Presently the girl
was aware of his presence and that he
was watching her.
What are We gaping at at all?' she
questioned.
"At the lOveliest girl in all Ireland"
said Barry, never taking his eyes from
her.
Sorrow be to ye if your mother
her work again, And angry she'd be
to find We here. Ye'd best go back to
her"
Barry flushed till his cheeks were
redder than his hair "Its here that
I'll sthop," he said decidedly, dumping
| down his sack and seating himself on
the grass.
Moras thrust had been a keen one.
for all the village knew that he lived
in fear of his mothers tongue. "Shure.
it's the sting of a wasp she has en-
tOirely," was the verdict of her neigh;
bors, from whom the Widow O'Gill
held somewhat alOof, though now and
again she condescended to call on Mrs.
Terhune for "a bit of gossip and a
dish of tay."
Barry was Mrs O'Gilps only child
and the idol of her heart Did he so
much as look at girl, Mrs. O'Gill was
filed with alarm. So while the other
lads fingered about the church steps
after mass that they might see their
sweethearts. Barry was hurried off
homeward by his mother. Therefore
it was with sense of recklessness
and novelty that he gave himself up
to a talk with Moira. She bade him
help her wiring the clothes and then
laughed at his awkwardness and
splashed him with glittering drops.
The time went quickly. 1t was noon
before they knew it, and Barry sped
home to his dinner and a scolding.
Yet he hardly heard the words his
mother heaped on him, so engrossed
was he with the memory of Moira s
gray eyes and the exquisite curve OF
her lips. Love comes swiftly when one
is young in Ballymoran.
He and Moira met often after that
sometimes at the edge of the little
river and sometimes on the roads by
which the hawthorn hedges bloomed
a mass of pink and green. The more
Barry thought of Moira the more hC
realized that his mother would never
consent to his marriage. Moira'i
d beauty was the only dOwry the cir
had OF all the poor folk in Ballymo
ran she was by far the poorest.
Nor was Barry much richer. 1t wa
his mother who held the purse strings
e Once, in desperation, he thought o
l. giving up Nfolra, and for three who'll
- days he did not see her. Then quit
l. by accident he met her coming acros
/, a field She was about to pass hin
with averted face.
"Moira" he cried brokenly.
< At that she turned. She was pal
A. and there were deep shadows under he
hot Do ho1 lynT
his heart rushed to his lips, and Moir
i'd listened, looking down and plucking 6
u a bit of hawthorn she held in her hanC
~ A lark rose from the long meado'
% grass near by, and soaring into the a
NJ. poured out a song that seemed but a
echo of the ecstasy that was in the
hearts. 1t was Moira who made th
first return to earth.
IL Does your mother know of it?" 81
40 questioned.
A. "Divvle Bit" said Barry cheerful.
"and where would be the good O. tel
ing her? She'd niver consent to it
- the wide woruld. 'Tis a runawa
50, match we'll have to make, mavourneel
Well be afther taking thrip to IL
Us next parish and back some foine day
II but where will we live at all, Barr
IS, darlint?" cried Moira, still troubled.
Us, Rest aisy," said Barry; II can NAL
W. ,te somewhat working in the bogs, al
VS.. that will give us a bite and sup. Al
there's ovid McShane's cabin that
been desarted ever since he went
America. Troth it's a ramshack
place, and there's no denying it'll IT
roof lakes, but can mend it with fire.
turf. And though the room is as SIN;
as nut, what a foine view Wen ha
from the doorway. And if the chi
bley is ovid and shmokey, after q
twill be our own. Arrah, trust to luC
Moira, achree! And lovers luck, shul
it's the best of allr'
= "True for ye, Barry" agreed Moi
and, happy and improvident, tn
drifted back into their lovers paradi
M and one morning before the first -
a were astir and Ballymoran lay in I
| cool grayness of the dawn they slipp
! away to the next parish. By the m