The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1919-02-01

priest of the big church on the avenue.
''He said nothing at all at the time
said Cavanaugh, "but few days after
ward didn't he come for me with his
car, an down here he brought me an
made me acquainted. Twas his first
parish in the city, an being country
born himself, twas always like home
to him. Well with him backing me up,
the girls could say nothing, so l come
down here once a week regulator
oftener, if l can slip away unbe-,
knownst, as I did today rs "a
Almost all the people who live in
this neighborhood were originally from
the country, or small towns, and had
preserved their rural habits and Gus
toms, all were of humble station in
life. The men of the neighborhood
who were too old for work, other than
the small chores about the home or
garden, had gotten into the habit of
rounding up at O'Toole's, knowing
there was always company and a well
come.
Dinny tipped his chair back on two
legs and rocked contentedly, though
dangerously, to and fro, while Cav
anaugh in an undertone enlightened
him as to who was in the company:
Him across herewith the one
arm-he's an old soldier; lost his arm
at Gettysburg-y' hear him tell about
it sometime, too; farmed at Clear
Lake, near the Iowa line, till few
years ago. Clancy, there-the thin
fellah with the pipe-he's been every
where-'tis he that can tell We adven-
tures!"
So Cavanaugh went over the list
| One had helped build the Jim Hill'
road Che took almost as much pride
in the road as he would had he fur.
nished the capital instead of the mus
cle); one had lived through the In
dian outbreak near Mendoza; some
! had lived all their lives in one place
since coming to America; others had
ranged the country over, before final
~ settling down to steady occupation
! At last someone claimed Cavan
augh's attention, and the little mar
on the other side of Dinny took thai
opportunity of pulling his chair closer
! He held a paper in his hand and {
! stubby 'forefinger pointed to para
| graph. Dinny leaned toward him, {
light shining in his eyes. Sure enough
it was the Irish World Then he ant
the little man were off, like hounds
upon the scent, following the trail Of
| Ireland's woes.
It was a grand talk, and severa
others dropped their own lines to ge1
into the discussion, which was higi
compliment indeed. 1t seemed impos
sible that Cavanaugh could be RICH
when he suggested that it was time
for him and his friend to go; but, look
ing at the big silver watch that he hat
carried all his life Dinny jumped VI
with some alacrity, remembering thu
hour that Anne had set for supper
Or dinner" as she called it. But be
fore he could get away a solid faced
quiet man who had been watching hin
for a long time laid his hand upon hi
arm:
''D'y mind Jimmy Mahaffy that came
over from the old sod on the SAM
boat with ye-d'y' mind him now"
Il do" said Dinny, his mind reach
ing back to that first journey.
"Im him." said the stolid man, hold
ing out his hand solemnly.
There was general rejoicing amon'
all at this unexpected denouement
Dinny wanted to sit down again an
talk, but Cavanaugh said no.
cyl have that to look forward to-,
he urged, for he was getting uneasy
knowing that 1.-The wife and girls
would be worrying about him if h
failed to appear at the accustome
time.
Dinny himself was in some trepida
:, ton at the thought of Anne findin
! him gone-and no explanation give1
beforehand He went very quietly in
4 to the house, for it was later than tn
usual hour of their evening meal
| Anne was upstairs at the time, but sh
came down soon after. He though
she looked at him rather queerly a
4 she, came in; it seemed to him, toe
that there was an added affection il
4 her attitude to him during the meal
and he noticed she absently called i
supper" Afterward they went int
/ small room that Anne called tn
I library. A fire burned in the fireplace
that had hitherto been banked wit
fern in way that Anne had seel
somewhere. An easy chair stood be
fore the fire. -
4 well, that is comfortable" admit
4 ted her father, sinking into the chat
and putting his feet on the foot-stoo
that was there for them. Anne sat be
side him working on a piece of en-
broidery. To the old man the opel
fire and the tender solicitude of hi
| daughter seemed a fitting ending t
the day. He did not know that Anne
/ going to the maid S room to give SOM
4 directions about the refreshments 70
4 her afternoon guests, had looked from
i the kitchen window just as her fathe
i wandered into the alley-way, or tina
4 she had noticed the stoop of his shoul
i ders and the loneliness: in his face, an,
i had gone back to her guests with
disquieting feeling of self-reproach.
"And where did you, spend the after
j noon?' she questioned. Soon sh
drew out the whole story. Findin;