Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1924-04-13


as il is called-owners, sportsmen'
officials; imma cuIately dressed. mem
with glasses slung over their Shout
de-re- gentlewomen with bronzed
faces and kneen eyes and clothes
which but a week ago were on snow
n Paris: farmers in CATERS and black
,.oa1s and bowler hats: booknra kers
hoarse with shouting the odds Green
turf and horses sleek and Sroonea
like prima donnas. \ race is over
the Jockeys have weighed in. the nets
are paid And now the hoard goes
up with the runners OF the next race
on IT and the names of their riders
\ bookie raises his voice defiantiS.
He will give two to one against the
held, he says. He will give four 10
one, bar one. He will give eight to
one, bar two.
Around each gambler is willing
crowd Offering mouey-sman trades
men; strong farmers. peelinG of
notes from plethoric rolls: Irish peers
in shabby tweeds, with faces red as
hartcnders': an occasional clergy
man. and Rory 0'Gonnor Mellon.
Consider a rather tubby man with
A sharp pointed red beard which has
strands of gray in il. on his head is
not well brushed silk hat He
wears a trock coat OF the type known
in America as a Prince Albert, and
ir is not very well bcuShed, either.
His collar is OF the turned do wn
fashion. which I have heard some
where described as Shakespeare
collar His tie is black. III his left
hand he holds a not we'll rolled UNI
hrella In his right hand he holds
pair of field glasses. His pocket
hulges with the form book.
He had been born some forty seven
years before this in an obscure VII
age in Meath. on the edge OF the
Irish central plain. Bog land 1t -
ali and under the peat of Allen lie
hurled the Irish elk, and the Irish
hear. and the Irish wolf, and the
wolf dog that hunted him, and the
gallant invaders OF old time-the
brown Phenicians. and the red Danes.
and black-a-vised Norman men. and
around the edges Of royal Meath live
traditions and customs and families
ancient az Aliens bog itself Some
strange preservative arises from the
black peat water and hardeus them
A wind from the west brings the salt
Atlantic with it and warps them ard
dvarfs them and brings them to the
stage of some messy ancient hAw-
.horu bush. Where * the white
knight? Where IL the black knight?
What OF the end OF great Thana
o'NeiII. who fought Queen Elizabeth
and won-fought her who had van
auished Philips armada? Every
where old kings vanish into dim.
aromatic past.
But the greatest OF all rhe Irish
names remained-O Mclaughlin MEL
on now)-the last legal high kings
OF ireland, sons of that Malachi who
repulsed the red Danes and wore.
Thomas Moore writes Of him
the collar of gold
That he won from the proud invader"
Beside Malachi. Brian Boru WAS an
upsta-t Irish Napoleon. and Rory
0Connor, the last king WAS a guerilla
chief The blood Of Rory of the Hills
was in Melons veins. too. though on
the feminine. or distaff. side. TO be
technical.
So you can understand OConnor
Mellon. last of Malachi's high line,
and in whose veins ran the blood of
Rory of the Hills. dressing himself
in ceremonial black to keep a little
dignity and betting cautiously pro-
feSsionally. on the race course TO get
. little money.
x y
LIE had passed through some small
schools and passed unnoted
through Trinity. Who viii note even
an heir of kings in a university which
claims Swift and Consreve. Burke
and Oliver Goldsmith and Hans of
newer fame? And, coming out. some
political friend obtained for him the
post of coroner in one of the distri cts
Of Dublin.
For Row many years OConnor Mel
lon held the r.c~- Of coroner in south
east or west Dublin il would be hard
to say-these soft. gray lives fow
zap so quietly. But suddenly. dra-
matfcatly, he resigned his position
When you suddenly see a respect
able coroner in sober clothes resign
his position and in the same sober
clothes take to backing horses for a
living. your Anglo Saxon mind would
call him mad. We more subtle Celts
will say he has resigned himself to
destiny and the laws of chance
Not for nothing has racing been
called the sport of kings. Where is
such majesty, where such ffeetness.
where such uncertainty? The thrill
as the starter pulls the lever and the
tapes fly up, and They're off, rings
from a thousand throsts All, the
blood in ones veins humming like
wireless.
How could the strain of Malachi,
the high king, and of Rory of the
Hills keep from the excitement OF
this speed and glory? And in spite
of chance and by dint OF forethought
and by sheer knowledge of the game
O'Connor Mellon made f2,aoe a year
He lived modestly. but he lived
we'll Near Rathfarnham, in Dublin,
he had a comfortable whitewashed
and well matched cottage that looked
toward Three Rock mountain An
old housekeeper took care of him
There was a small tagged garden
with forget-me- springing be-
tween the stones; around him the
glory of the circle of mountains-in
winter their white caps of snow or
mist. in summer their brown heads
and tinkling heather-the Doder, at
the foot of his garden, rambling care
,essly toward Donnyhrook and the
Irish sea, a happy. singing river,
hurdling grassing weirs. His home
life was very comfortable but for
one thing-he had never been mar
ried. Every natural man mzrries,
and afterward either likes or doesn't
like his wife-but that doesn't mat