The Bourbon news. [volume] (Paris, Ky.) 1895-19??, 1907-01-01
LOVER S
LUCK
BY Constance darcy rfackay
Copyright, l9Os. by c. II. sutclife


on his back, he caught sight of MORA
Nolan washing linen in the little river
mat brawled its way through the vii
iage of BaliymOran. The brook gushed
and sang over its pebbles, and Moira's
young voice sang with it as her white
arms flashed in the clear water She
was ca Der knees STRAIGHT ard supple
us a willow. her bare feet tucked UNI
der her with only. the rosy heels show
ing. The wind caught strand Of her
hair and whipped it out till Il shone
like beaten gold in the sun. Barry
paused, dazzled, and gazed ct her, his
mouth agape his sack Of meai forgot
tea OF his back. Presently the girl
was aware Of his presence and that he
was watching her
What are We g2Ding at at an?'' she
questioned
at tie loycliest Sirl in all Ireland"
said Ba 1y, never taking his eyes from
her.
Sorrow be 10 ye if your mother
knew IT, laughed Mora. bending to
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
reddcr than his hair. Its here that
I'll SHOP" he said decidedly, dumping
down His sack and seating himself on
the grass.
AI0ii,'s thrust had been 4 keen one,
for all me village knew that he lived
IL fear cf his mothers tongue. "Shure,
it's The sting of a wasp she has EN-
t0irel.Tr.' was the verdict of her neigh
bors, from whom the Widow O'GnL
held somewhat aloof, though now and
again she condescende1 to call on Mrs.
Te-hune for "a bit Of gossip and
dish Of tay.''
Barry was Mrs. O'Gilrs only child
and the idol of her heart. Did he so
much IS look at a girl, Mrs. O'Gill was
filled 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 a sense of recklessnesS
and novelty that he gave himself up
to q talk with Mora. 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 Il scolding.
Yet he hardly heard the words his
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 MORA met often after that,
sometimes at the edge of the little
river and sometimes on the roads by
which the hawthorn hedges bloomed,
mass of pink and green. The more
Barry thought OF MORA the more he
realized that his mother would never
consent to his marriage Moira's
beauty was the only dowry the girl
had. OF all the poor folk in Ballymo-
ran she was by far the poorest.
Nor was Barry much richer. 1t was
his mother who held the purse strings.
Once, in desperation, lie thought of
giving up MORA, and for three whole
days he did not see her. Then quite
by accident he met her coming across
a field She was about to pass him
with averted face
''Moirar' he cried brokenly.
At that she turned. She was pale
and there were deep shadows under her
eyes. All that Barry had kept pent in
his heart rushed to his lips, and Mora
listened, looking down and plucking at
a bit of hawthorn she held i'll her hand,
A lark rose from the long meadow
grass near by, and soaring into the air
poured out a song that seemed but an
echo of the ecstasy that was in their
hearts 1t was Mora who made the
first return to earth.
Does your mother know of it," she
questioned.
'Divvle Bit" said Barry cheerfully,
and where would be the good O. tell
ing her? She'd niver consent to it in
the wide WOruld. IT'S a runaway
mate h We'll have to make, mavourneen.
Wen be afther taking q "Trip to the
next parish and back some foine day"
''But where will we live at all, Barry,
darlint:" cried MORA, still troubled.
Rest aisy," said Barry; L can make
somewhat working in the boys, and
that will give us bite and sup. And
there's ovid McShanes cabin that's
been desarted ever since he went to
America Troth, it's ramshackle
place. and there's no denying it, The
roof lakes. but l can mend it with fresh
turf And though the room is as small
as q nat, what a foine view We'll have
from the doorway. And if the CHM
bley is ovid and shmokey, after all.
twill be our own. Arrah, trust to luck,
MORA, achrae. And lovers luck, shure,
it's the best of air.
True for We, Barry agreed MORA,
and. happy and improvident, they
lrifted back into their lovers paradise,
and one morning before the first birds
were astir and BalIymoran lay in the