Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1906-07-05
Larry's
Wedding
By Constance Darcy Mackay
Copyright, 1905, by P. c. Eastment

from IOOIuau 10 COacnman ana moved
from room over the stables to trim
cottage with a fine view of the Hem
stead's lawn he felt as if the summit
of his ambition had been reached. If
genius is capacity for hard work Lar
ry could well lay claim to it, for he
toiled early and late with pertinacity
which set him high in the estimation of
his employer and enabled him to put
by a snug sum by the time he had
been in America three years.
There was only one thing wanting
to make Larry's happiness complete,
and that was the presence of Ellen
O'Meara, who was already on her way
from the old country. A month ago
Larry had sent the money for her
transportation.
Ellen was the belle of Ballymoran,
and his winning her was to be viewed
in the light of great triumph. For
awhile it had been nip and tuck as to
whether she would marry him or Tim
Kearny. But Ellen had chosen Larry,
and in the letters she wrote him from
time to time there was no mention of
Tim Kearny.
'Shure, her hearts all mine," said
Larry to himself, and as the day of
Ellens landing approached his Joy be-
came more and more apparent.
Indeed, the whole Hemstead house
hold took an interest in Ellen's home
coming. The servants knew her age to
dot, that her eyes were as blue as the
lakes of Killarney and her hair like
FURNISHED copper.
The morning of his wedding dawned
clearly and Larry was in jubilant spir-
its as he took the Long Island train for
New York. How Ellen would delight
in their little cottage and exult in the
surprise that her husband was not a
groom, but full fledged coachman.
Larry boarded the immigrant ferry
boat, and it was not till he had reached
the immigration building on Ellis is
land that he found that the Cedric, the
steamer on which Ellen was coming,
was day late.
A whole twenty-four hours to spend
consolately through the long bare halls
of the building, stopping to look at the
newly landed immigrants In their cage
like compartments and thinking Of the
time when he had been like them In
one of the halls a girl was talking to
blue coated official and biting her lips
to keep from crying. She was young
and slender, with deep gray eyes.
Pm sorry" the official was saying
kindly, ''but we haven't been able to
get any word of the aunt who was to
meet you, and you're too young a girl
to work alone in the city. It's against
the law. If your aunt doesn't come for
you, you'll have to go back to Ireland
to your own people"
But they're all dead" said the girl.
"Shure, there's no one belonging to me
at all except this aunt in New York
whom I've niver seen. An if she
doesn't come for me- The girl broke
off with sudden sob, so childish, so
piteous, that Larry, in spite Of his hap
piness, felt his heart ache for her.
Its a shame, it is" he said to him
self. "a poor young bit Of a thing like
that! Faith, if my Ellen was only here
we might think Of something to do for
the girl" And on his way back to New
York Larry determined to speak to Ell
len about the matter Women's wits
We're much better than mems in such
cases.
Next morning he was early at the
island and instead of waiting in the
immigration building tramped up and
down outside that he might catch the
first glimpse Of the boat that was
bringing Ellen to him. Presently he
deserted it, and his blood raced at the
sight.
He stood as near as he could to the
gangplank and anxiously scanned the
faces of the immigrants crowded on the
deck, but Ellen's was not among them.
Larry was filled with an anguish of
apprehension. Then his heart leaped.
He had seen the CLINT of Ellen's red
gold hair. For an instant she faced
him, their eyes met, and then she turn
ed and spoke to man beside her. He
laughed and pushed back his cap. AS
he did SO Larry recognized him. 1t
was Tim Kearny. They We're coming
down the gangplank now, and Ellen,
to steady herself, put bare red hand
on the railing On her fourth finger
cleaned plain gold wedding ring.
Larry was too stunned to speak.
Dazed, he turned toward the immigra-
ton building. He knew not what to
do or where to go. The mockery of it
all swept over him-the fruitless years
of planning and working, the little
house that he had meant to be so hap
py in. Worse than all, the shame of
returning alone smote him to the
quick. But as he stumbled on there
flashed through his mind the memory
of the gray eyed girl he had seen the
day before. She had been so helpless,
yet so lovely in her grief Somehow
the recollection of her loneliness SEEM
ed to draw him toward her as if by an
Invisible bond.
"Shure, misery loves company" he
said to himself, "and if the girl could
only learn to care for me tits Joy and
not sorrow might be in store for u.s."
He Quickened his stems fumbliner I'm