The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1914-11-14
THE TEARIN' TIP

where his nickname came from. Ever
since he could remember, he had been
called ''the Tip" by all who knew
him. Father Moore had explained to
him that it was short for the >tearin'
Tip" land it's a name you needn't be
ashamed of, young man, for some of
the best blood in the world comes
from County Tipperary.
But, Father, / was born here in
Chicago, the year of the fair"
"Of course, but your ancestors were
born right smack in the middle of Ire
land. Don't be ashamed of that name,
Tip. Thank God for it.
81 amt ashamed of it, Father-but
who started it?. Since / can remem-
Der, I've been called nothing but Tip"
WELL" said Father Moore, slowly,
las to where it started, that's another
question. suppose somebody thought
it fitted you. But you ought to be
proud of it anyhow. I'm a Tip my
self"
He had asked his mother. But she
had only kissed him and cried little,
so he never asked her again. He
finally concluded that the origin of his
name was to remain mystery, one
which he grew to connect, in dim
way, with the mystery of his father.
All he knew of his father conferred
about one day-a day in his very
early childhood, when some sober
60 1o1 "a ho
and taken Daddy" away with them.
Though he must have been but tod
ding baby at the time, he was never
to forget the terrible grief of the
Daddy" who had wrapped him in
his arms and cried so like child He
had never seen his father again or
heard of him, even from his mother.
His mother, of course, had no idea
that he remembered Daddy and
with true child instinct he had re-
Trained from speaking of it.. He knew,
in some way, that he was not sup
posed to remember that day, yet it
was the one vivid memory in the
blank of his very early years. When
he learned his prayers, his mother
had inserted God bless papa and
mama" He always repeated the petit
ton, and as years went on, the
thought of his father became one of
his day-dreams, a SOLDERING factor in
the development of his naturally
light-hearted nature
1t was. on his eleventh birthday that
al Ic 70 nj
Danny Grogan started it. 1t was only
because he was very much excited
that Danny made heated remark
about "Shanty Irish" to Tip. In
calmer moments" he would have
thought of consequences. True, they
were of about the same size and age,
but as Father Moore often said, "the
Tip had way with him that justi-
fed his name" Hostilities were
opened after school, and poor Danny
was fairly overwhelmed by the on
slaught of the heir to some of Ire
lands best blood. After a few minutes
he covered up and .bawled out ''nuf. .
Half a hundred spectators were signi-
flying their admiration for the proves
of Tip, when the defeated one, with
his grimy little fist dug into swell
ing eye, Kissed out:
well, | can't fight tough. Yer
as bad as your father, wot's doing
time!"
This Tip did not understand, but he
knew instinctively that dom time
10. ic
eyes burned as he looked at the whim-
pering Danny.
What do we mean?" His voice was
high and it qua7efed unnaturally.
Shut up, Danny, ye little coward, y
put in the biggest boy in the crowd.
Its all right, Tip; he don't know
what he's talkin' about. Gee, but it
didn't take ye long to do him up
And the speaker touched the victor S
arm almost reverently. But Tip did
not hear him. He looked helplessly
around for a moment; then his face
puckered and tears began to roll
down his face. He turned and fed.
Father Moore was kneeling in the
church, reading his breviary, when the
door opened, rapid stumbling steps
came up the aisle, and snuffling
voice said, Father" The priest sat
back in the pew, pushed his glasses
up to his forehead, and carefully
placed his finger ON the Psalm he was
reading:
"And is it you, Tip? Well, well.
But you forgot something"
The boy Strengthened and looked
at the tabernacle; then he clasped his
hands and reverently genufected
Father Moore sided out of the pew
and took him by the arm Come,
come, Tip" he said, kindly; well go
out to the bench"
He pulled the lad through the
sanctuary and out the sacristy door
Neither spoke until they reached a
little bench back" of the church, a
favorite spot where Tip had often
found his old friend reading or saying
his beads. Many time had he
broken in on the Fathers solitude
here, and sat at his feet for hours,
listening to long stories which in,
variably began with Il knew a man
in Ireland
The old priest knew heart-breaks
when he saw them, and he knew that
boys heart breaks, while they lasted,
were quite as tragic as those of up.
grown people. So he said nothing at