The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1910-08-05

A Bayonet Was Thrust Right Through His Back. laundering and lightning like retreating storm dropped out of sight in the hollow of the road this side of Mudoon's hill. l.
 Then Bill turned and wiped his moist brow with triumphant sweep of his hand. Td do no more than dozen jugs of poteen the blagguard has with him bid undher that pile of fagots in his caart Why
 He flung resentful eye toward the cluster. of cottages down in the valley. Mo- he went on bit informer But hould bit! I'll have me sweet re- venge I'll go up to Cailahan,g still in Chartres re, woodLthat little divl Michaefn be gone all .it gay
 He chuckled to himself An whin I've had all l Bradys house for the night an afther atin me hot supper I'll sit in me corner cowld an impident till bedtime and in the mornin I'll shake the dust of this parish from me feet forever"
 Bill gulped sob at the thought and continued in S"Oh, aint they the hard-hearted. fckle people, to forget so soon after all me goodness to thim?" he an I've toiled for them this twenty years, an now afther all hard worruk, look at the thanks get
 Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, for he felt the general slight and insult in the marrow of drain and taking with hm % only | heavy blaeSthorn stick, wended his lonely way the stony upland toward Chartres woods.
 It almost sunset when the tired reached Callahan's cave in Chartres wood and 1t all he could do to scrooge himself through the narrow passage which led into the still but, after sundry bumps and scratches, he found himself at last in the venerated presence of the big copper vessel itself
 A little hole in the root let in just enough light to reveal dmly the contents of the mysterious Bills quick admiring glance took in the coils of pipe and the vessels of copper and iron which lay scattered about but what riveted the tinkers atten ton and gladdened his heavy heart was the sight of half dozen fat satsfed-looking jugs standing cheek by jow1 on the cool, damp earthen floor. Each par
 cular jug Bill had often before in the home of it's owner that now he had trouble at all in identifying it.
 sThere yez are, the darlints," said Bill: "six of the comfortingest friends have in trouble. YeZ'u not backbte him thrayduce him to his neighbors; but whin his heart is froze wid sorrow an there's nothing left but cowld and lonely hearthstone 'tis you that kindle blaze in the ashes an warrum the cookies of his heart wd pleas ant dhrames an friendly faces. An ts meself had sorer made of ye"
 He stopped and lifted of the jugs high above his head. Then, smiling, he said:
 This is yours, Darby O'Gill; know it by the nick on the handle. We'll Darby, me bouchaI here's luck to ye prolonged gurgle echoed in the silent room.
 Bill set the jug back considerably frightened; he picked up another
 "Wisha, thin, I will so. Joey Hoolgan me lad since you're so kind and pressing" he said, "Manys the time I've seen ye hid snug behind the forge dure!" Joey Hooigans jug gurgled even longer than gasp
 "Oh ho Mrs F1annigan, is that yerself?" he chuckled with rollicking wink. An isn't it sight for eyes to see ye sitn there so aisy an allana I'll loight poipe, an it's outside the two of usu go, where ye can sit me knee in the dusk Of the evening; for who knows but what that rogue of a Michael Callahan might come sneakin back an surprise the both of together?"
 The shadows were already settling heavy the hillside as Bill sat himself down under the tree. There was drowsy twittering of nestlng birds in the boughs and somewhere far down in the