The Intermountain Catholic. (Salt Lake City [Utah] ;) 1899-1920, 1909-01-09
IRISH CHARACTER SKETCHES.

The fourth class Of my youthful
Demosthenes are to come around me
here to read their lesson"
The class being formed around Bar
, tie, he gives the order for the first boy
to begin. After reading a few lines,
the boy would be interrupted with:
You are Sing-SOnging IL too much
Remember, you are not addressing a
tombstone, but Bartholomew Finnegan,
master Of arts, all arts, / may say, es-
pecially elocution. Slower, sir Put
more life into it. This way, sir" and
the fingers beat time as Bartle read
NOW. go on, SIR, and pay attention,
you other youthful Demosthenes and
young vagabonds." The boy begins
again, but is soon interrupted with:
Stop, sir. What has happened to the
knees of your trousers ?' and Rartle
points to the boys lower garment
No answer, only thrusting of the
hook into the mouth and nervous BIT
ing at the leaves on the boys part
1T is the part Of great men to con-
Tess their wrong truthfully when they
90 wrong. Were you climbing trees
after my solemn warnings?"
Jimmy wasn't climbing trees, sor,''
came in GREATNESS tones from a boy al
the end of the class, but he was climb
ing Phil Maguire's, the tailor's, house,
and he put jack daw that he caught
down his chimney"
Ah-and Bartle puts on with great
haste the black glasses. Ireands ruin
from the days of Adam was always in
formers, but by the virtue of a strong
arm and the elasticity of the rod, l win
stamp out informers from my school.
Come here, quick, addressing the boy
who gave the information, while the fire
OF patriotism is in my bones until 1
! thrash
Good day. children, and God bless
you"
Good day, father" reply chorus of
voices, and your blessing, father"
1t is Father Tom, and the dear old
man raises his hand and invokes the
blessing of God upon the little ones so
dear to him.
"Ah, Finnegan. never like to see you
wear those spectacles. Who has trans
crossed now? All, it is you. Jimmy
Rooney; robbing birds nests or Gimp
ing up my apple trees. All, my gracious
but it is good to be young. Finnegan
| you and | We're once young. and no
doubt did plenty of mischief in our
young days; at least l did,, and the
kind old priest sinks into the chair
Bartle places for him with,
Your boys and girls are a credit to
you, Finnegan, and the bishop said they
were the best in his diocese"
Yes, your reverence, they are good
children, and the credit of their good
ness belongs to you, and were it not
Stop, Finnegan,' and the old priests
hand goes up in protection. My work
is easy when I have such teachers as
you"
A smile of delight lights up poor
Bartles face, and, ah-he opens out the |
drawer. and taking out his precious
copy of the Metamorphosis. he opens it
out to Father Tom with the whisper, !
The last addition to my great work; |
read it, Father Tom, and tell me what |
you think of it
Better you are getting as you go on;
better you are getting" after Father
Tom had perused the manuscript. |
Dryden, with the long resounding |
march and energy divine. is nowhere. |
Those last lines of yours, Finnegan- |
breathe of the smoke of battle, the roar
of guns, the CONSERVATION of earth |
quakes. Tell me- Finnegan, where did |
you get your genius?"
Twas born in me, Father Tom; |
born in me. A poet is born, not made |
as my friend Horace says and Bartie |
places his thumbs in his waistcoat |
pockets and straightens himself up.
'"Pon my word, l believe it was. l be- |
lieve it was Now Finnegan, I'll hear
your class read"
There came a day when the great
work of Bartle's life was interrupted,
nay, cast aside for six months, and |
thinking now of the manner of the in
terruption and all the circumstances
surrounding it, a feeling of merriment
steals over me that l cannot subdue.
1t is Friday evening in August and
a familiar figure is seen approaching
the school door with a brown paper
parcel under his left arm and a roguish
smile about the corners of his mouth.
1t is Jim SculIy, and there, at the school
door, he holds a hurried and serious
conversation with Bartle, and the only
words l remember to have caught as
Jim took his departure were:
I'm thinking meself that tbs the
work ov the Firbolgs, bud It's miste-
rious intirely, an iv you can't solve it
none can"
'I'll try, Scully, I'll try. You say
you found it near the old Rath?"
"Yis, Mister Finnegan, near the ould
Rath, an two big rib bones beside it,"
''Ah"-and the old schoolmaster
places a finger on his chin and thinks
for a few minutes and then dismisses
Scully with the words:
Call in a few days, Scully, and I'll
let you know how 1 am progressing"
/ shall never forget the look of WON
as he took off the many rolls of brown
paper and laid upon his table large
fiat yellow stone en- the face of which
was engraved some strokes like letters
and some circles.
Bartle gazed for fully half hour on
the mysterious find of Jim Scully's, and
then he donned, wonder of wonders, the
three Spectacles one after the other, a
thing which I never saw him do, but
they did not help him in the
least to make out the inscription on the
stone, and for fully six months poor
Bartle, night and day, devoted his at
tention to that stone. and / verify be-
lieve it would have set the old man
crazy, were it not for the intervention
of Father Tom, who cleared the my.-
terry with those words:
"Finnegan, ] believe the villain Soul
ly brought you a stone with writing on
it to decipher?"
Yes, yaur reverence, and it beats
me. l can't make it out and / was
of bringing it to Dublin to
consult some Well-knoWn authority
there
Consult fiddlesticks Why, Finnegan,
the villain Scully concocted the whole
plot; he made some strokes on the stone
with a masons chisel and said he'd
cure you of your poetry writing and
stop your great work. Why, Finnegan,
the stone that you are devoting all
your energies to for the past six months