The Leavenworth echo. [volume] (Leavenworth, Wash.) 1904-current, 1921-06-03
A FIRESlDE TALE
By JENNIE LITTLE.
10000 eSRSSSeS4stt



Well, then, come with me, of an eve
hlng that | have in mind. to Il grand
concert hall in the city. wonder
fu. prima donna, the idol of her audi
ences in two continents, has come up
ON the stage for her last number. As
she stands waiting for the applause to
die away, something that she reads
in the waves of upturned faces moves
her to sudden impulse. and with a
tender little smile, instead of the elias
steal selection on the program, her
voice second only in sweetness TO the
angels fills the vast room with;
There's pretty spot in Ireland,
. | always claim for my land"
In one of the boxes sat two of the
earths prosperous, and like lightning
artist, the mans mind flashed picture
after picture on his memorys screen.
I'm faraway County Clare he saw
young gossoon full to the brim of the
sheer joy of living. The Scotch would
call him lad o parts, the English "A
topping chap, bur I'll declare to YOU
boy. Every old granny in the village,
and clear down to every lass. thought
the sun had its rising and setting in
his merry charm, but only Eileen Nc
Donngh had II mortgage on his affec-
tons. All, but she was the winsome
colleen. and the likes of her was not
to he found In days travel.
Then an uncle in America sent
money for his passage. with tales of
success that set the lad wild to go.
but when he had good start then he
would send for her, and together they
would conquer this fine new country.
My heart goes back there daily,
To the girl left behind me-
When we kissed and said good-by.'
An. yes, at first twas so. Luck and
pluck were with him. and his fOothold
grew firmer and stronger. and some
how in the struggle. Eileen driftcd
further into the background of his
thoughts. The old bodies went one
by one, and the black sorrow of lone
lineSs was almost more than she could
abide, but never did her sweetheart
grow bitter or complaining in its
wearying for him. Faithful and true
she was to her troth with Terence
O'Neill.
"Where dear old Shannon's flowing.
Where the three-eaved Shamrock
grows
Where my heart is | am going
TO my little Irish Rose.
And the moment that | meet her,
With a hug and kiss I'll greet her"
Conscience woke up entirely, and a
shillaIah stroke was gentle compared
to the pain she gave him. For i'm
these latest months of his prosperity
he had decided that only high-born,
cultured American woman could rule
his home and help to find new fields
for his never-satiSfed ambitions, and.
cold-bloodedly, without thought of
love. he had set about to win her. This
very minute, by his side, sat the lady
of his worldly choice, and he had felt
much elated that now she seemed not
n great deal averse to his gallant at
tcntions. Sure she never knew about
that common past, and almost had lie
forgotten its connection with the arts
tocratic banker who looked at him
from the mirror Till tonight, that Is.
Sure no letter I'll be mailing,
For soon will T be sailing,
And I'll bless the ship that takes me
To my dear old Erin's shore"
The lady turned with disdainful
curl of the lip. "Really,' says she,
zone might expect the hest music here
and not vulgar street songs" and Ter
erce's heart turned over with a thud
of gratitude that wisdom had come
not too late.
Very quiet was he on the way home,
and as he handed her from the lImou-
sine, declined her gracious invitation
with "Not tonight, thank you. as
have pressing business to attend to I'M
mediately. And 7 probably will not
see you again for some time, as I
leave on the CanOpic's next date OF
sailing"
Indeed" said the lady. In dis
pleased surprise. "Surely this is very
sudden"
I've not yet booked my passage"
says Terence. with an old-time Irish
grin, "but I think the fates won't fail
me this time" And neither did they.
And now we come to a matchless
evening In dear old Killaloe--a night
of enchanted moonlight when all the
fairies and little folk are casting their
spells on everything. All alone Mt her
window sits Eileen. with the melting
sweetness of her harp suiting her voice
as she sings so sadly: st may be
years. and 1t may be forever" And
into the room strides Terence of her
thoughts.
Not on Your life!" says he in the
true American style. and then dropped
on his knees beside her. and into the
tender old brogue. "Mavourneen, all
this time I've been madly, foolishly
following will-o'-the-wisp but when
| came 10 me senses and gave me
heart the lead. ii brought me to nv
own trne love. straight as the crow
flies. VIII We 60 back with me, dar-
lin Ia be the dear light of me life till
the blessed saints call lis from our
own paradise to theirs?" And some