The St. Charles herald. [volume] (Hahnville, La.) 1873-1993, 1921-11-26
CHAPTER vI-continued.)

Sheila took the letter. 1t ran as
follows:
dearest Sister:
ut is eleven years since I wrote to
you, and yet, though 1t may seem
strange, there have not been eleven
DAYS in all the time in which l nave
not wished you and Sheila were here.
Sheila-why, she is young woman!
She's about the age you were wnen
left Ireland. and you were one OF
the most beautiful and charming
creatures God ever gave life to.
my estate is neither north nor
south, but farther south than north.
In q sense 1t Is always summer OUT
winter in my place would be like sum-
mer in Norway-just bitingly fresh.
happily alert. I'm writing In the sum-
mer now. look out Of the window and
see hundreds of acres OF cotton
fields, with hundreds upon hundreds
Of negroes at work. l hear the songs
they sing, faint echoes Of them, as l
write. Yes, my black folk do sing.
because they are well treated.
sNot that we haven't our troubles
here. You can't administer thousands
Of acres, control hundreds OF slaves.
and run an estate like piece OF
clockwork without creaks in the ma
chinery. I've built it all up out OF
next to nothing. landed In this
country with my little fortune Of two
thousand pounds. This estate is worth
ut least quarter Of q million now.
I've an estate in Jamaica, too. took
It for debt What It'll be worth In
another twenty years I don't know. !
shan't be here to see. I'm not the
nan I was physically. and that's one
of the reasons why I'm writing-to you
to-day.
II want you and Sheila to come
here to me, to make my home your
home. to take control Of my house
hold. and to let me see faces ! love
about me a the shadows Unfold me.
This place. which have called
Moira. Is to be yours.-or. rather.
Sheila's. So. In any case. You Will
want to come and zee the home have
made-this old colonial mansion, with
lts O0rinthian pillars and veranda.
Aixh steps, hardwood floors polished
IKE I pan, every room hung in dim
lty and chintx, and the smell OF
fruit and flowers everywhere. You
win want to see II all. and you'll
want to live here. I have placed to
your credit In the Bank Of Ireland .
thousand pounds. That viii BE- the
means OF bringing you here-you and
6heiia-to my door. to lfoira. Let moth.
lns save death. prevent your com
ine. Az far q Sheila's eye can see--
north. south, east and west-the land
win be hers when I'm gone. Dearest
sister. sell al things that are yours
and come to me. You'll not forget Ire
land here. whoever has breathed hel
air can never forget the hills and
0ella the valleys and boys. the noun
tsins with their mist Of rain, the wild
sirls With their bare ankles. their ret
retticoats, and their beautiful. reckless
air None who has ever breathed thu
air of Ireland can breathe In another
land without memory Of the ancien
harp Of Ireland. But It Is Is Z mem
mry--deep, wonderful. and abiding
yet memory.
.4oh believe me, I speak Of what !.
nnowi have been away nom Ire
l.rd for long time. and I'm neve
r1ins back, but III bring Ireland 9
=. Come here. colleen, come to VII
~. Write to me. on the day yo'
- this letter, that you're cominl
s,,r hecause feel. the cords bindinl
- ~ beloved fields growing thin
- = rnev,rl soon crack. but. pleas
God. they won't eracT 0e10s' 70
ayow with my love e Jon ana sse'