The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-04-06
 LADY ATHLYNE
Copyright, 1908, by BRAM STOKER Entered Stationer's Hall-AH rights reserved


 wis wish to be presented you can call on the services of Lady Athlyne" She suddenly strengthened herself to her full heighth as Mrs. O'Brien spoke with a sort of victorious howl:
 aurroo! Now we've done it. We've
 sald the wurrds yerse1f: an we all
 know what that manesi'' What does 1t mean?'' Joy spoke
 somewhat sharply. her face all afame ? It appeared that she had committed
 some unmaidenly indiscretfon.
 It names that it names the same as 1T ye said 'yis! to me gentleman when Persooln' 1v his shute. It's for all the himp'
 In spite of the rfdiculousness of the
 statement Joy thrilled inward. Un- consciously she accepted the position of peeress thus thrust upon her.
 After all. the Unknown has it's own charms for the human heart. Those oIo Athenfans who built the altars ITO the Unknown God" did put into classic phrase the aspirations of a people by units as well as in mass. Mrs. O'Brien's enthusiastic admiration laid seeds of some kind in the young girls heart. | Her instinct was. however, not to talk Of it: and as a protective meas ure she changed the conversation:
 But you haven't told me yet, Aunt Judy. - you went to bed in the morning because you pretend to be an struck in:
 | III IdIliH tO cOInprenlnQ that me- self too. If ye was a young wife now | could consave it. maybe. Or an ould | W1dda-woman like mese1f that does have to be gettin' up in the night to that doesn't like to die. alone. .'' She burst into hearty laughter in which Miss Judith Hayes joined. Joy | took advantage of the general hilarity 1 to try to pursuade her aunt to come | on deck. She finished her argument: | And the Captain is such a nice man. He's just a wee bit too grave. I think he must be a widower." Aunt Judy | made no immediate reply; but after some more conversation she said to the l stewardess:
 l T think will get up Mrs. OBrien Perhaps a chair on deck in the sum- shine will be better for me than stay | ing down here. And, after all, if | have to die 1t will be better to die in theopen than in a bed the size of a l coff1n!"
 | When Joy rejeined her father in the | Cbart-room she said to the Captain:
 That stewardess of yours is a dearv' | He warmly acQuiesced:
 She Is really a most capable person; and all the ladies whom she attends grow to be quite fond of her. She is | always kind and cheery and hearty ill or afraid. When I took command of the Cryptic I asked the company to let her come with me-"
 And quite right too, Captain. That
 
 'It is indeed. But. my dear young lady. it's very perfection makes me doubt it. It is so thick and strong and ready. and the way she twists words into Its strength and makes new ones to suit it give me an idea at tones that it is partly put on. sometimes think 1t is impossible that any one can be so absolutely and imperatively Irish as she fs. However, it serves her in good stead; she can say. without offence, whatever she chooses in her own way to any one. She is a really clever woman and a kind one: and I have the greatest respect for her"
 When Aunt Judy was left alone with the stewardess. she asked:
 'fWho is Lord AthIyne?- What kind l of a man Is he? Where does he live?"
 Where does he live?-Why every | where! In Athlyne for one, but a lot | iv other places well. He was | ould Earrl always lived afther he lift | Parlimint; and whin he was a boy he | was the widest young daredevil iver | ye seen- Faix, the County Roscommon | itself wasn't big enough for him. When | he was 8 young man he wint away shootin' lions and tigers and elephants and crockodiles and such like. Thin | he wint into tn army an began to different houses. and he goes to them all be times. He says that no man has a right to be an intire absentee landlord-even when he's livin' in his
 But what sort of a man is he per sonally?" she asked consistently. The 1rfshwoman's answer was direct and comprehensive:
 ''The bisti"
 How do you know that?"
 An how do I know itI Amn't I a Roscommon woman, born, an wan av the tinants? Wouldn't that be enough? But that's only the beginnin' Shure wasn't I his faster-mother, God bless him! Wasn't he like me own child when tux him to me breast whin his poor mother died the day he was born. An, Miss Hayes there's nothin' ye don't know about the child ye have given suck to. More. betoken, than if he was yer own child: for he might be thinkin' too much of him putin the bist construction livery little thing he iver done, just because he was yer own. Troth didn't want any wean that iver woman nursed; the tindherest hearted. wid the wee little hands upon me face and his rosebud av a mouth putin up to me for a a King on his throne. And tn inde- pindincel Him wantfn' to walk an run before he was about to shtand- An ordherin' about the pigs an the gandher, let alone the dog. Shure the masterfullest man-child that iver was, and the masterfullest man that is. Sorra wan like him in the whole wide wurrldI''
 You seem to love him very rnuch,' said Miss Hayes with grave approval.
 ''Incoorse I dol An isn't it own boy that was his fosther brother that loves him too. Whin the Lard wfnt out to fight the BoOrs. Mick wint wid him as his own body man until he was in , valided home wid a bad knee; an him 1 coachman now an doin' notllin' but take his wages; And whin he keem to Liverpool to say goodbye when the Cryptic should come in I tould him to -ake care of his Masther. And ye 1on't, sez I. we're no son iv mine, nor if yer poor dead father, rest his sowll Rape betune him an any bullet that's comin his way, I seZ- An wid that ne laughed out loud in me face. That's good mother sez he, an iv coorse I'd be proud to; but T. like to set eyes on the man that'd dar to come betune | A thlyne an a bullet. or to prevint him .uttin' slices from afr iv the Boors wid | his big cav-a-lary soord,' he sez. Be yob' he sez, 't'would be worse nor ghtin' the Boors themselves to inther- 'ere wid him whin he's set on his