The Intermountain Catholic. (Salt Lake City [Utah] ;) 1899-1920, 1909-01-23
CONTINUED.
The VILLAGE Weaver.

on the ola IOOheTy before MS mouse. me-
is very small man, with a broad,
smiling mouth. and the eyes, large and
pensive, are shaded by blue spectacles
The shoulders are stopped and the tall
hat. brown and creased, with age and
usage, rests on the back of the head
and neck AS you gaze at at him you
feel instinctively that the figure lean
fng there is a mild and timorous man
and you would be right; for Peter Toole
the weaver is the mildest and most
timid man ] have ever known. The
smallest child in the village has more
courage and / verify believe that if you
gave Peter all the wealth of ROths-
child, you could not induce him to go
out alone on a dark night lat the witch
ing hour when graveyards yawn." He
was a firm believer in SpoOks and fair
les, and to him the old raths and grave
yards were objects of the utmost dread,
but most dreaded of all was the lone
bush that stood sentry as it were upon
the high road just outside the village.
Tradition had it that three men were
hanged there in the troublesome times
Of 1898, and Peter firmly believed in all
the blood-curdling tales that We're told
about that harmless old tree. His one
topic when the neighbors called into his
house at night to have a smoke and
friendly chat with him was leprechauns
Spooks and fairies. Sitting on an old
fashioned chair in the corner close to
the fire with his elbows resting on his
knees, and his pensive eyes fixed on
the blaze, he discoursed on these sub
jects, and if you were at all timorous
well, his talk would impart to your
composition the shivers. Many a night
have I sat at Phil's humble fireside and
listeped to his stories. and l well re-
member the feelings of dread that ran
through me as that old man peop1ed
each old Tath and fort and graveyard
with occupants of the spirit world. and.
ah, when he came to the most tragic
part of his story, his voice would fall
10 whisper and his head would turn
10 the door with a timorous look, which
as, much as said: Il would not wonder
If these spirits were outside the door
now" When the time came for me TO
leave Peters house, l would have given
a great deal to be at my own fireside
for the night after such tales did not
look inviting, to say the least, and 1,
think that my sprints of these 100 yards
that separated Peters house from
mine nearly broke the record. | flew,
that's what / did. with a cold shiVeTing
of dread all over me, and my hair al
most standing on an end. Peter never
went outside his own door after dark |
ness covered the land since the event
full night on which he paid a visit to
Phil Mcguire, the tailor's house. which |
WAS about a quarter of a mile away |
Phil Mcguire gave a party to a few
old crOnies OF celebrate the battle of |
Benburb- Every year Phil celebrated |
the overthrow of the English under |
Munroe on that historic field.
Me ancestors fought there wud the |
crate Owen Roe O'Neil, an tonight !
we'll drink TO their immorthial memo |
ries around me humble board Phil |
would say. Il would TO God an. crate |
Saint James that the words ov the |
song woT true Ov him today:
Owen Roe O'Neil. our own O'NeiI.
He tTeads once more our land,
The sword in his hand is ov Spanish |
steel,
Bud the hand is an Irish hand"
And Phil, as he delivered the above. |
would career around the kitchen in his |
excitement and, clapping the weaver on
The back. he would say: 'YiS. Peter. iV
The gineral wor back he'd make me
next in command, and Peter. I'd make
Yeh me aide-day-kOng an we'd rout
The Saxons, horse-foot an artillery
Peter TOole was one of the tailor's
guests on this eventful night that I
speak of, and whether it was the
speeches or the good old Irish poteen
that kept him beyond his usual hour of
departure, ! do not know, but when he
lid arise to go and opened the door and
saw the darkness he drew back apaAed
and whispered TO Jim Scully:
Jim, avic, it's as dark as Erebus.
l.
Phil Mcguire heard Toole's whisper
and, rising from his seat, addressed the
after thus:
''Oh, yeh unworthy descendent ov the
crate O'Toole. I'd blush for yeh. iv I
had blush. Ye're a poltroon. that's
what yeh are, an Ireland wants none
~ yer sort in this hour ov her tribu-
ashun. 1t shall never be said me house
a coward Go home now. wud
yer, Peter Toole, an never darken me
lure agin,' and Phil Mcguire kicked
Town. the chair he was sitting on in his
''Aisy now, wud yeh, Phil Mcguire
Ne're indignant, that's what yeh are
IN don't understand human nature,
Dud ] can read it as aisy as I'd swaI-
ow pint ov stout" and Jim Scully
shocked the ashes from his pipe and
tIbSb from MS seat WITH.
III accompany yeh home. Peter
roole, bud afore 1 go, assure this hon
Drable assembly that the sperit never
ret walked that cud brighten me noble
rind Toole. Am / not spanking the
ruth. Peter Toole?" as Scully gave the
after rousing slap on the back.
I'm not afraid ov sperits, Jim and
Door Peter looked shiveringly to the
window pane. mo, no, I'm not. bud
n the dark ! might miss my way"
Say no more, Peter Toole, ov course
We believe yeh. an now I'll go wud yeh
IN iv we meet any sperits wen settle
hem between the froth an the water"
Jim and Peter departed. having
Wished their friends goodnight, and
When they were well on their way.
'cully said:
'Toole, 1 never liked to pass the lone
'ush since the night / saw the three
nen hanging there. I'm not narvous. 7
ell yeh, bud yet I feel a little afraid.
% when We're passin' we won't look at
t, bud I'll grasp yer hand for courage
I'd like to grasp ii now, Jim, Nv yeh
10 not mind, for ] feel a little wake"
md the shivering Peter drew near to
;cully. e
We're near it now, Peter: aisy. avic.
We IL steal by on our tippy-toes, ah," {
nd Scully screeched out: There they
re, an, Toole, they're comm down {
rom off the branches. Oh. all yeh an
Ale - Il