Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1930-06-26

o " u p&Ah ~ RRy l1lOl
explained quickly. He knows 'twould
be no easy thing for us to pull up
stakes and go back with him"
and Willy John would never leave
u.s." Kate said firmly.
IT'S a sacrifice we can never repay"
Agnes Mary added softly.
Michael took a last copious draught
from his cup. Then it seems to me he
had better be trying to master it, in
stead of letting it master him" he con-
tributed thoughtfully.
He does try to-" Kate said Loyalty.
The trouble is, there's SO many things
always cropping up to keep ID green
in his memory. Starting with the
spring, now. there's the thought Of the
races back home. The first thing YOU
know it was hold Of Willy john"
Not that he wants us to know"
interposed Agnes Mary.
But it slips out in his talk" Kate
explained. "'Och!' he'll say, maybe. It's
the first of June. The meet will be
starting over there-and wouldn't I
give my hearts blood to NICE more see
the three year Odds charge up the Cur
ragh mile!'"
But they tell me there's grand rae
ing in the states" Michael commended.
Cant he be taking advantage of what
he has at hand?"
He does, Cousin Michael It was
young MORA who suddenly spoke. And
at her voice Michael stared; for there
was something in the suppressed tone
and unSmiling young face at odds.
Her grandmother raised dissenting
palms. 1T so happens that the races
start here about the same time, SO, no
matter how his mind may be set
against it, We always try and persuade
the poor laddie to go, hoping he will be
a little less downcast-'
But tbs as Kate said, there's more
than one memory to tug at Willy Johns
heartstrings," Agnes Mary deplored.
You know yourself, Cousin Michael,
how fond he always was of hunting.
Is it any wonder then, when cunning
time draws near that he gets to long
ing for the peaks of the Sugar Loaf
and his old setter and gun?"
But are there no game preserves
nearby he can be stretching off to?"
Michael insisted bluntlv.
There's the Blue Ridge where Uncle
Willy John goes every year." young
MORA contributed. And again her voice
was steely, and her face unsmiling.
Though a hard time we have to
drive him to it," Finola OReilly in
sisted. Willy John was always the one
to belittle his own troubles. Only this
morning the poor laddie said to me:
Don't be worrying about me, acushla.
Sure, It's my misfortune, not yours, if
the heart of me is foolish enough to
wear itself out in longing for "Erins
hills and Erin'S daleS, and the Irish
sea where my dream ship sails -"
80! then he's longing for the Irish
sea, too?" Michael Hurley asked in
quiet tone But by the CLINT of his eye
and the furious rubbing he was giving
his chin, he was not so composed.
Its in the blood, Cousin Michael"
Finola OReilly reminded him. Him
self was a seagoing man, and young as
Willy John Was when he lived, many a
cruise he took the boyeen IN. Is it any
wonder then, when the boats here start
going up and down the bay before his
very eyes, his memory quickenS at the
thought"
"Whisht, here he comes back again.
Agnes Mary broke in. And listen to
him. 1t would break the heart of a
win bush!' For from overhead there
suddenly sounded the voice of Willy
John. He was singing as he came, in a
heartrending tenor that rose and
scared brokenly:
20, a plenteouS place is Ireland for
hospitable cheer,
vi leacan dahb o!
Where the wholesome fruit is burst
ing from the yellow barley ear,
vi leacan dubh o!
There is honey in the trees where her
misty wales expand,
There is dew there at high noontide,
and springs i the yellow sand,
0, the heart of me is aching for that
heaven hallowed land,
The fair hills of holy Erin!"
Finola O'Reilly's eyes were misted.
And the compassionate look on her
face was reflected on Hates and Agnes
Mary's. But it was on young Moira's
c~ountenance that Michael Hurley's
gaze conferred. For no pity was there,
but something akin to scorn and
something akin to fear
C"There's a cat in the bag that's not
let out" Michael told himself ShreWdly
as he continued to rub his chin, and
looked very, very thoughtful.)
And he had his glimpse of the i'm
prisoned feline that same evening.
Willy John, who had returned to the
crowd, Respondent in white flannelS
and a sky blue tie that matched his
eyes, had been commissioned to go in
search of ice cream and cake to feast
the guest later on. The Womenfolk hur-
ried about their night tasks. And when
Mora, armed with a great pan Of
scraps, started toward the chicken
yard, Michael joined her.
And as they went their way he looked
about him at the snug little gray house
with the big garden and COW pen and
chicken yard behind it, and the sloping
orchard down to the bays edge before
it, and the lights Of the town twink
ling in the distance. And a grand place
he thought it.
But he made no such comment. In
stead he shook his head, murmuring:
What 4 waste! what a waste. now!"
And young Mora, scattering her
crumbs, looked her wonder.
Michael was gazing at the star stud
ded sky. "Troth, and there's a grand
ring round the moon tonight. A wish
ing ring. Did you hear the old
saying:
when a silver ring is round the
NOON,
Make your wish; twill come true
soon!'
But, of course, tbs wasted on you,