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Show SHAMROCK. OF SKETCHES Three Bits of Pathos in St. Patrick's Day Reflections He neoaed not tho sprig of green that greeted the world with blltho defiance de-fiance nor the blackthorn stick that ho brandished so bravely to proclnlm him as ono of the race of "Kolly and llurko and Shea." There was about him tho manner of the nation where every man Is u chieftain If be isn't a king. The Italian with tho hand-organ stopped ut tho corner across from tho one whoro the old man wnlted for the car. In deference to tho day ho started his performance with tho thrilling rendition of "My Irish Molly, O." Tho 3aM"" old man did not recognize tho popular , song, but he know tho lilt of the tuno was ono thnt never camo out of Gor-1 many. Ho began to follow It with as vigorous a whlstlo as his unfamiliar!-ty unfamiliar!-ty with It would allow him. Hoforo tho end of tho trills ho crossed tho stroot and stood by tho organ. "Don't you"know n rale, true Irish chuno?" ho demanded; "ono that will warm tho cocklos of mo heart?" Tho organ-grinder nodded. "Sure," ho smiled. And, first with a wheezo and then with an oporatlc run, ho started tho tuno that brought the hat from tho head of tho old man. "Play It again," ho commanded when tho nir was done. And ngaln and still again did the Italian play It while tho old man stood uncovered. "I always tako off mo hat to 'The Wcarln' o' tho Green,'" ho said. "Old man (lllllgnn gave mo a bit o' real shamrock this mornln that his daughter had sont him from Tipper-ary." Tipper-ary." The old man took out a wallet and caressingly touched tho bit of green that was folded within. "Play It again," ho ordered when tho grind-or grind-or stopped. And In tho last chorut his qu4vrtg old voice rung nut with all Uio'lojralty and Wio devotion of the centuries bf Uio lighting race, 'Hut till that day, nralxo God. I'll stick To tho weurln' o' tlio Rreon!" Llttlo Mollio McShano sat nlono In tho cornor of the hall. Thoro wao many a lad by tho door who cast sheepish glances at Mollio. It was for no lack of invitation that sho was not tripping tho floor at tho St. Patrick's Pat-rick's night danco. For tho orchestra was playing an old, old tune aud tho dancors wore humming tho refrain. "Oh, for the days of tho Kerry dancing," and tho llttlo girl in tho corner saw again tho green of a Kerry vlllnge and tho glow of the light of love, and down her cheeks ran tho tears of homesickness and longing and memory of tho days that havo gone. There under tho Irish stars the big Irishman told the little Irish girl of the love that his heart held for her. And when long afterward, after a thousand years of Joy that an houi may hold, ho had said a last good' night, sho had drawn down his head to the level of her lips and blessed It with her softly spoken "Ccan dhuv dhcellsh." Then us sho stood watching watch-ing him go down to the village, sho heard somewhere afar off a piper playing tho tuno of tho Kerry dancing. danc-ing. But there was no music In tho pipes and none In tho heart on tho night when John went awny, away with tho Kngllsh soldiery whoro ho had enlisted. en-listed. Thcro woro sad promises of return and dark forebodings, but thoro wos hope. Tho wnr would soon bo over; tho Boers would not fight long; "although It's meself that's prayln' they'll win from ye," said Mollio to John. "When I como back, I'll punish yo for that samo," said John. But ho novor camo back to Kerry. TAo llttlo girl In tho cornor of tho hall saw the village gay again on this Patrick's night as It had been on the other; for lads and lasses como soon ! from the shadows. But with tho vis-Ion vis-Ion of lovo she saw clearer than her old homo a spot that bIio know only lit fancy a lonely grave on a Transvaal Trans-vaal kopjo, whoro sloops an Irish lad who died lighting for England. Annlo stood on tlu platform of tho enst-bound train as It waited for tho I signal to steam out of tho station. ' Back at the gute stood Annlo's brother broth-er and his wife nnd Annlo's slstor and her husband. Between, tho crowd surged unheeding. But by tho green that thoy woro on this St. Patrick's day tho girl on tho platform know thorn for her own people. Katie and Hannah woro wcoplng. Annlo had 1 hoped that thoy would not weop, for, ' suro, wasn't It bad luck to havo tears when ono wns going homo? . Homo! How many a night had sho lain awako aftor tho work of day had clamored for rest for hor weary body aud mind, thinking, thinking over of I tho two who wero oven now counting j thu hours till their last-born should ho once agnln under hor old rooftreo! Tho Journoy to tho sea was but a. stop; and after tho ocean camo tho hills that Boino morning would rlso to tho eastward hor own Erin. And then there would bo tho mists and the fogs of tho slow train Journoy to Hie llttlo station; and then thd long walk perhaps through tho rain that would bring her to that light of home, "God bo with you," alio called to tho little group as tho engine whcols began to rovolvo. And hor own eyes woro dim with tears. And as tho train wont out Into tho open apneos tho englno bolls sounded a song eho had heard somowhoro of Into; "Then go buck to Ireland, Kin your friends In Ireland, Hut you'll lava yoUr heart behind you In tho went!" |