Tensas gazette. [volume] (St. Joseph, La.) 1886-current, 1908-01-31

bridge. He pulled a minute on his
pipe.
King O'Brien," he corrected in a
thread-like voice, frowning severely
Willie looked into the book a Sec
ond.
"Oberon," he repeated.
The king was mad.
| Il tell we O'Brieni" he shrieked.
William Shakespeare was no Irish
man. Puck's name is Pooha, and
mine is OBrien. We have been suf-
ferin' the injustice and oppression of
the Englishman these $50 years."
Willie was brave, and what's more
he loved to CAB.
Tell me-" he says "Mebbe Titania's
name, then. was Bridget"
OBrien began to pace up and down
in rage.
"Niver We moind her name, omad-
haun! Don't know me own name, and
me king of all the Ulster sidhee this
last thousand years?"
There's no doubling ye're an Irish
man, me fine little man." says Willie,
not to be daunted. But ye're small
credit to the race, Ye'd better look
in the book and see how to spell your
own name. If that's O'Brien, then my
name is Halloranl"
And he held up the book towards
the edge of the water, where the fu-
rious O'Brien was hopping up and
down, splashing the river fearfully.
May We niver know yourself again
for three days of it," screamed the
king, shaking his fist.
Willie reached for him. The next
thing he knew the poor boy was up to
his neck in the water, trying to swim
with only leg and half, and grab
bling at willow branches that kept
swapping of with the pull of him. He
would have been drowned entirely If
he hadn't found a little old punt
stranded under the trees. Just as he
climbed in, it moved with him into
the swift current Not an oar to 1t
could he find. 1t was late afternoon.
The tide was running out, and 1t took
poor Willie down to the sea in no
time. 1t was miracle Of wonders
how ever the saints got him out of it.
AS 1t was, they saw fit to sweep him
to the skeries, miles OF the coast,
where he stuck on rock like rat on
a skewer, his boat all smashed to
smithereens, and him with as much
breath in him as the bellows Mike
Donovan sat on. His head was hard
hit into the bargain.
Next morning a fishing boat picked
him of the rock; and set him down
safe in Portrush. But Willie was half
crazed, and as I'm telling the truth,
from that hour for three days he
couldn't remember his own namei The
Kernahan's at Portrush, they knew
Willie well enough. They, good hearts,
gave him shelter, and early Sunday
morning got him crutch to walk
home with, and set him on the Castle
dare road sound in body, but dazed
as an owl at MONDAY.
Now Cormac McConathy and old
Bridget began to smell queerness when
Willie stayed away from supper. New
er broken leg or two had kept the
boy away from that! So scarcely the
pork had been smoking 10 minutes on
the table when Bridget sends Cormac
down to look under the bridge whittier
Willie had crept away with his book
and his bottle the day. You may rely
on 1t, Biddy McConathy was a dis
tracted woman when Cormac returned
with the book, the bottle and the
crutch, but never bit of Willie him
self. Well, they searched three days,
and at the end of that. Father Null
doom Just said sure William Neon
athy, rest his soul, was dead one,
drowned in the tidewater and SWEET
out to sea, most like, in the rush Of
the ebb.
So the fourth day, in the morning,
which was a Sunday, Father Muldoon
made ready to say mass for the soul
of Willie, and to preach sermon upon
the follies of going too near the water
with a bottle of potheen.
1t was a fine clear morning over
sea and land. Willie hoped along on
his crutch the five miles from Portrush
to Castledare, happy as lark, without
the last notion who in the world he
was. He didn't even care. Re remem-
bered only Mary Kernahan saying,
Mind you, keep the road, Willie, till
you cross the Dreen, and there at the
other shore of 1t is Bridget McCona-
thy's cabin"
Willie had said, Thank We kindly"
and kept in mind the woman's name
who lived in the cabin, because 1t
sounded familiar somehow. But that
was all he knew.
BY and by, Willie comes to the
bridge and the cabin, and nobody In
the cabin. So he walks on to the
church where people were going in.
Now three days of beard on him, and
Pat Kernachan's sea packet, and the
crutch which people were not used to
with him, all these made 1t possible,
what I'm telling you. Besides, they
were going to a mass for his soul,
and weren't expecting to see himself
there anyhow.
Willie went on into the church. He
sat near the door and listened with
reverence to the mass. When it came
to the sermon, Father Muldoon re-
ferred touchingly to the loss Of VIII
liam Nationality from drowrin0 In