The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1914-02-28

THE IRISH
trunk, and he babe him place 1t, with
the portmanteau, in the room he had
just left. Dusk was falling.
uncle Jefferson" said Valiant alb
ruptly, have you q family?"
mo, sub. Jes' me en- NAH Oh
CONAN"
"Can she cook?"
"Cook!" The genial. litter again
captured his dusky escort. when
she got de fixens. All reck'n she de
beaten'es cook in his heah county"
How would you both like to live
here with me for while? She could
cook and you could take care Of me"
Uncle Jefferson's eyes seemed to
turn inward with mingled surprise and
introspection. He shifted from one
foot to the other, swallowed difficultly
several times, and said, "Ah aim neb-
bah seed yo' befo', sun"
well. I haven't seen you either.
have II"
Oats de trufe. sub, deed ct is!
Hyuh. hyuh! Whut All means ter
say is dat de Oh CONAN kahn cook
no fancy didoes like what dey eats up
MORT. She kin jes' cook de Ferginey
STYLE"
THAT sounds good to me-" quoth
Valiant. I'll risk it. Now as to
wages"
"Ah ain specticulous as ter de
wages" said Uncle Jefferson. "Ah
knows er gemman when All sees one. -
Then it's bargain" responded Va
liant with alacrity. Can you come at
once?"
"Yas, sub, me en- Daph gwineter
come ovah fus' thing in de mawnAn'.
Whut yo'-all gwineter do TO- 20 sup
pah?"
"1'll get along" Valiant assured him
cheerfully. Here is five dollars. You
can buy some food and things to
cook with, and bring them with you.
Do you think there's a stove in the
kitchen?"
"Ah reck'n," replied Uncle Jefferson.
EN- eff dar ain Daph kin cook er
Christmas dinnah wild fo' stones en- er
tin skillet. Vas, subj"
He trudged away into the shadows,
but presently as the new master of
Damory Court stood in the gloomy
hall, he heard the shambling step
again behind him. "Ah done neglect.
uated ter ak yo' name, sub. All did,
TO- er fac"
my name is Valiant. John Va.
liant"
Uncle Jefferson's eyes turned up.
ward and rolled out of orbit. Nah
Lawd!" he calculated soundlessly
And with his wide lips still framed
about the last word, he backed out
of the doorway and disappeared.
Alone in the ebbing twilight, John
Valiant found his hamper, spread a
napkin on the broad stone steps and
took out glass, a spoon and part of
a loaf of bread. The thermos flask
was filled with milk. 1t was not a
splendid banquet, yet he ate it with
a great content as the bulldog at his
|
He broke his bread into the milk as
he had not done since he was child
and ate the luscious pulp with keen
relish bred of the long outdoor day.
It was almost dark when the meal
was done and, depleted hamper in
hand, he reentered the empty echoine
house. He went into the library
lighted the great brass lamp from the
motor and began to rummage. The
drawers Of the dining-room sideboard
yielded nothing; on shelf of the but.
lers pantry, however, was tin box
which proved to be half full of wax
candles, perfectly preserved.
"The very thing!" he said triumph.
antly. Carrying them back, he fixed
several in the glass-candlesticks and
set them, lighted, all about the somber
room till the soft glow flooded its
every corner. There" he said
that is as it should be. No big bla.
tant search-light here! And no glare
Of modern electricity would suit thai
old wainscoting. either"
He dragged the leather settee to thu
porch and by the light of the motor
lamp busted it thoroughly, and wheel
Ing 1t back. set 1t under the portrai,
which had so attracted him. He
washed the glass from which he hat
dtned and filled it at the cup of the
garden fountain, put into it the res<
from his hat and set it on the read
ing-stand. The small china dot
caught his eye and he picked it W
casually. The head came of in hif
hands. It had been bon-bon box an6
was empty save for narrow strip Of
yellowed paper. on which were writ
ten some meaningless figures: 1928
$40. He pondered this a moment
then thrust it into one of the empty
pigeonholes of the desk. On the lat
ter stood an old-fashioned leaf.calen.
dar; the date it exposed was May
14th. Curiously enough the same date
would recur tomorrow. The page bore
a quotation: Every man carries his
fate on riband about his neck"
The line had been quoted in his
fathers letter. May 14th-how much
that date and that motto may have
meant for him!
He rose to push the shutter wider
and in the movement his elbow sent e
( EElgA|