The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1918-09-07
THROUGH AMERICAN EYESI'

bad fairies, and, 10! / landed my whole
length in the very midst of the good
fairies, and such day! Though a
thousand years should be my allotted
span, yet could l never forget this
selfsame day. | had a feeling, such
as Clifford Samuel Raymond explained
to me one day, of having lived before.
It was different from anything | ever
had seen and yet not altogether
strange, but infinitely more sweet,
more beautiful, more restful, more
soft on the SOUL | wonder if there
is anything to this theosOphic non
sense? If there be surely once
lived life worth while If this spot
bears any resemblance to the former
place of abode.
TO come back to earth, started out
on page l to record that | came over
to Ireland as war correspondent,
expecting to be in the thick of what's
more than organized War-revolutiOn
By common consent we have rechris-
tened Ireland the New Western
Front"
New Western Front.
There still is a possibility. There
are murmurings in the air besides
the whirr of soft-feathered wings. The
rumbling one hears here and there
doesn't sound like angels voices.
Be that as it may, arrests by the
constabulary and soldiers at Drumlish
and Granard for illegal drillings and
reports of incipient risings drew me
state of the public mind there. And
in the very search for the concealed
passions of mankind l was taken up
by the good fairies and carried day
| through their world of tradition, song,
poetry and myth-and presently sat
down in the very midst of the ruins
of st. Patrick's old church, builded
| by his very hands way back there in
| the Fifth century. They took me over
| the great hills, across Towering val.
| leys, around old ruins of an age long
! long ago, and showed me, where Love
and Valor wandered through the prim,
roses; where the old bards gathered
to sing of yet earlier ages; where the
light of the Nazarene first was kindled
in Erin; where blue-gray eyes and
: crimson cheeks and laughing lips were
made for each maiden; where harps
were made of pearl and strung with
golden strands and thrumbed by the
| heavenly choir; where saints raised
the dead, healed the sick and gathered
mamma for the hungry; where the goat
herds never went dry but gave milk
| without ceasing, and the Colt OF
Tough Rec leaped his three miles al
every leap; where the staggering new
born calf came out of the sacred vel
and ran crying throug the valley anG
made the beautiful lakes in his zig
zaggy wanderings; where the yeW
trees nestled the invisible singers ant
the stars came down to light the way
to glory; where ST. Brigid carried the
live coal on her bare bosom and il
burned her not for she was pure
and even, yes, even the places where
men, in the name of Christ, manned
killed and crucified other men.
l haven't time now to set down fol
you picture OF Longford County, ant
particularly description of the place.
made so dear to you by Daddy Gray!
stories, but all he told you is not
farthing Of the Unreasonable richnes!
of the old country But I have walked
over the self-same spots he did 81
many years ago, and. my eyes hav,
beheld the glories his beheld, and
now can family begin to realize wha
a great stirring there must have beel
in his soul as he wandered back il
fancy over the scenes of his youth
| wish | had known what he knew
then when we used to go over t,
Brooklyn in the old days. But it can
not be. The world rolls on and a.
ways, it seems, we roll on with it, hun
rying and careless, and fail oftentime
to gather the real flowers that grov
by the way.
But if ever | get seated in tn
midst of the circle of Daddy Gray
descendants again, you may take j
from me there will be a spirit con
munion that will do us all a great dea
of good.
Good-by, for this time. Love to al
J and tell the folks in Brooklyn l hav
tramped the sacred soil and it i
heaven-blessed.
y..-- Lovingly