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Show j IRISH CHARACTER SKETCHES. ', (Continued.) Ned Lynch was a typical specimen of an Irish farmer. Blunt and honest, and ; with a heart full of the milk of human kindness, Ned was respected and loved by all classes of the community. In his youth Ned had a hard struggle to keep the roof over his head. Bad times and exorbitant rents kept Ned's nose to the grindstone, but the dogged perseverance t and industry of the man succeeded. In his struggle Ned had a great helper in his wife, Mary, and now, thanks to the work of both, they had a comfortable home, and their old age was cheered by the love and affection of a sturdy son, Tom, and a graceful, amiable girl, Mary. It is with the son. Tom Lynch, my sketch is concerned. It is the characteristic char-acteristic of. I may say, all Irish farmers farm-ers to love a good horse and to keep j one where their means permitted. Hors breeding was and is a great .source of revenue to them, and the noted horses, especially the hunting and steeplechase ones that have won a name throughout the world, were as a general rule bred by the Irish farmer. Ned Lynch was no exception to the rule. He loved to have a good horse, and he was considered con-sidered one of the best men to go with hounds in the country. His son Tom inherited the father's love for horseflesh, horse-flesh, and his spare moments he spent in the saddle. A fine fellow Tom was. and the darling of the village. He was loved by everybody, and especially the poor, and nobody ever wanted a meal if Tom could help it. He was the foremost fore-most in the cricket and footboll field, and captained all the matches for the village in these games. The old men called him their son, and Jim Scully, 1 with all the philosophy in his character. ana mere was a gooa aeai in it, aeciarea oftentimes that after his priests and the doctors, young Tom Lynch held the next place in his heart, and his verdict was: "Young Tom will be a grate man at anything he takes up." It was the wish of Tom's father that he would embrace the law as a profession, profes-sion, and with this end in view he sent Tom to college, but Tom was not content con-tent there. He longed for the country life, the cricket and football, and especially es-pecially the wild excitement of careering career-ing over the country on the back of a good horse. Tom, as I have stated, loved everybody in the village, but he Mad a special regard for Tom Nolan, the horse trainer, and it was from the latter that Tom learned the fine points of horsemanship. It is a morning in the beginning of April and young Tom Lynch enters Tom Nolan's yard. The latter is busily engaged saddling a Iimh, u u l lounuig uti emiuiutri lit: salutes young Lynch with: "Ooor morning, youngster,. I'm downright glad to see you. Take the gray you will find in No. 9 (meaning the stall) and come out and have a good school with me." "I don't feel inclined this morning, Mr. Nolan, thank ye." and Tom turns away his head. "What is the matter with you, youngster, young-ster, has your father whipped you or your mother, God bless her, told Father Tom that you are not attending to your boooks?" "No. Mr. Nolan," and Tom laughs, "but my father has denied me the dearest dear-est wish of my heart. You know, Mr Nolan." Tom continues, "that my father fath-er has a horse entered for the farmers' race In M , and I asked him to let me ride, and he refused me, and his reason was he thinks I would not do Justice to the horse, and he wants to iwin. He told ;ne so. but I think. Mr. Nolan, that his principal reason for refusing re-fusing me is that I might be hurt, and, besides, he wants me to be a lawyer." "A lawyer be hanged." and Tom Nolan No-lan taps his leggings with his whip in vexation, adding: "As long as it's a decent and honest profession, youngster, be what you would like to be. an" !i u iiKe to De a jocKey, liKe you, Mr. Nolan," Tom blurted out. "It's a hard live and a dangerous one. youngster, but you have the hands and the grit. The head will come in time, but your father .will never consent to j your being a knight of the pigskin." "Would you speak to him for me?" and young Nolan looks beseechingly at the trainer. "No. I won't youngster. I don't want to lose your father's friendship, but I'll help you all the same. The farmers' race your father wants to win is in the beginning of next month. Dr. Gerald has a horse entered for the Eame race, a swift horse, but a non-stayer. I'll get you the mount, but keep it secret, and you will win the race if you only take my advice. "Thank you, Mr. Nolan. I'll" "There, youngster, thank me if you win. Now come for a school." The races of M came, ahd like tvery other race' course in Ireland, the people gathered in their thousands. The farmers' race was the chief topic of discussion, dis-cussion, and the people of our village all pinned their faith in Ned Lynch's hnrca TV 111 rt -iU Tt'l "He can't be beaten." Jim Scully told the assemblage: he's the best bred horse in the race, an' besides the grate Cur-ragh Cur-ragh Jockey, Dinny Wind, rides him. Tom Nolan, his trainer, tould me yes-tsrday yes-tsrday he'd win hands down iv the doctor's doc-tor's horse, Dashing Paddy, didn't bate him." "Dashing Paddy can't stay; he's good enough at a mile, bud he hasn't the bottom." bot-tom." and Phil Maguire. the tailor, presses the tobacco with his finger into Jiis pipe as if in confirmation of his words. "I tell yez it will be a walkover for Willy the Wrisp." The horses assembled at the post for the farmers' race. Young Tom Lynch is on the back of Dashing Paddy, though his father and the people of the village know it not. There are only two people from the village know it the doctor and Tom Nolan, and the latter's advice to Tom Lynch as he left the paddock was: "Steal a march at the start and run your race in snatches." The flag falls and Dashing Paddy takes the lead, and as they pass the stand is twenty yards in front of the nearest horse. Old Tom Lynch, standing stand-ing beside the doctor, taps the latter on the arm and laughingly says: "Your horse, doctor, is going like th divll, and his Jockey is riding his head off. He'll be pumped before he's half ' way." ; The race was three miles long, and at the end of the first mile and a half young Tom Lynch looks back and sees his field twenty perches away, and his father's horse well up in the ruck. He i takes a gentle pull at Dashing Paddv I and gives him a breather. At the end of two miles Tom hears the horses thunder closer on his heels, and glanc? ing over his shoulder he sees Dinny Wind on Will o' the Wisp about six perches away coming fast. through his field. Around the bend for home the horses dash, and Dashing Paddy is still threeperches in front, but Tom feels his mount is fast tiring, .and he fears the quarter of a mile to the winning post. Half way up the hill Dinny Wind give3 Will o the Wisp three sharp reminders re-minders with the whip. Will o the Wrisp gamely answers and has reached . Dashing Paddy's quarters. The roar from the stand of Will o' the Whisp wins does not disconcert young Tom. He sits still and rides with his bands. Twenty . yards from the winning post Will o' tho I Wisp reaches Dashing Paddy's girth3, ten yards, five yeards and the horses dash past the pinning post and the verdict ver-dict is a dead heat. "I'm proud of you, my boy," remarked Tom Lynch to his son when he learned the facts of the case. You won't be a lawyer, and you want to be a jockey; well, follow your inclination, but, my boy, take care of your neck, for you are the last of the Lynches." Tom followed his inclination and became be-came a gentleman rider. Many a race have I seen him ride, and he ha,d few equals, if any, in the saddle. Success and notoriety did not make him ever forget the poor simple folks of the dear old village. He was a hero in their eyes, and none had a warmer place in Father Tom's heart than young Tom Lynch. "That's right. Scully. I'm glad to see you bles3 yourself," remarked Father Tom on one occasion as Scully crossed himself before he ascended the roof of Father Tom's house to put on some slates there. It's the proper thing to do." "I larned the lesson, yer riverince, from Young Tom Nolan. Afore he rodo in the big race at Punchestown he took off his cap an' blessed himself, an' wasn't ashamed ov his religion. It was a lesson for me, yer riverince, that I'll never forgit, but shure it was all owin' to yer trainin'. Troth, we're all proud ov young Tom, an' I hope we'll never die until we see him win the Grand National." Na-tional." Jim Scully's wish is our wish, and the wish of the dear old village. Young Tom has ridden the winners of the principal races in England and Ireland, and we hope the day is not far distant when Tow will achieve the nmhition of every jockey the winning a Grand National. Na-tional. What that day comes, if ever it does, there will be a bonfire in a dear old place thatT know of, and Scully, as he dances around the blaze in delight, will declare "that the gratest man in the village, after the priest an' the doctor, is young Tom Lynch." I know Phil Maguire, the tailor, will feel hurt that Scully does not include him. for the dear old tailor, in describing describ-ing Tom Lynch's achivements, always says: "Meself an' Tom Lynch did so and so." Ned Lynch is justly proud of his son. and over the mantelpiece there is a painting of a horse and rider, and underneath un-derneath are the words: "Will o' the Wisp, winner of the Irish Grand National. Rider Mr. Tom Lynch." BY CABIN. Poets and Common Sense. "Manager Harnett gave high mass." one of our evening papers gravely stated stat-ed a few days ago, in chronicling a Catholic church function in Los Angeles. Ange-les. Was it the baseball reporter who "covered" that "story?" But Monsignor Harnett has had distinguished dis-tinguished company, for archbishops and cardinals, and even the Pope, have been made to perform some astonishing feats by the daily paper reporter. The Malaprops at mass are a perennial and inexhaustible source of delight to the Catholic readers. Who can forget that historic report which appeared in an English daily describing the new Westminster West-minster Cathedral and declaring in all solemnity that "several thurifers wero suspended from the ceiling"? What murderous intent hung the innocent and unoffending thurifers the censer bearersto bear-ersto the high rafters of Westminster? Westmin-ster? And then there was that brave priest who during the "performance" of mass "threw a blazing sacristy out of the window." And more daring still, the bishop who "wore the Dies Irae on his head"! For this delight thank the reporter. . But it is not always the reporter, for only a few months ago a Methodist preacher in a town in the Sacramento diocese announced that he would ' give the apostolic benediction." He did not explain where he got it; no more than did the local editor who announced that "Padre Catala is a candidate can-didate for beautification"! It was a Syracuse paper, we think, which described the entrance of bishops and clergy to the sanctuary in these startling words: "They wore long flowing stoles and birettas, with cassocks on their heads, which they removed as they advanced to the altar." Conjure the picture! For solemnity and seriousness, however, how-ever, we award the palm to that Scotch Highland reporter who, describing a high mass celebrated at Fort Augustus Benedictine monastery by the late prior, the Very Rev. Jerome Vaughan, penned thi3 inimitable sentence: "At this point of the proceedings the very reverend gentleman turned round and observed in stentorian tones, "Dom-inus "Dom-inus vobiscum'!-" San Francisco Monitor. Moni-tor. Death. A Venetian priest, Don Apollonio, has recently written a monograph about the Hllo r. Coin 1C..1. ..LI.L 1 -v,lo vji uqiih ifxaiiv, vmii;ii it seems suffered many vicissitudes before they were destroyed in 1902 by the fall of the Campanile. On Aug. 15, 1489, one hour after nightfall, night-fall, a furious thunderbolt struck the bell tower and all the bells fell down partly broken and paftly burned. Again on March 26, 1511, "an earthquake happened hap-pened which lasted the space of a miserere mis-erere and more, the shock was very great, so that in memory of man there was never one greater, and it greatly frightened everybody. This earthquake damaged the Basilica and Campanile to such an extent that for an entire day the bells could not be rung." In the year 1678 the bells were five besides that called "Dei Giustiziati," or "of the criminals," which was rung for half an hour when anl one was condemned to death. A later document docu-ment discovered by the writer mentions only four bells. Each bell had a special office. The Marangona was sounded as the Ave Maria and at midnight the Mezza Ter-za, Ter-za, or half third, rank an hour after iugniia.il ana ai aawn, tne .ona, or ninth, at midday, and half an hour later the Trottiera, or trotter, was sounded. Venetian life was very intimately connected con-nected with the ringing of bells, so much so that the post of bell ringer was very important. The Malaprops at Mass. The Catholic Herald, commenting on the assertion that the race of great poets is extinct, intimates that such a dictum will be likely to arouse feelings of wrath in the hearts of "near poets," "coming poets" and "poets of promise" prom-ise" who think they are great poets. We have no doubt of it. Nevertheless the possession of the riming faculty does not always preclude the possession cf common sense. There are still left on earth men who do not imagine they are Shakespeares and Tennysons and Brownings and Moores simply because they write verse which, possessing a certain measure of beauty, has received a certain feasure of praise. Such sensible sen-sible writers and there are more of them, perhaps, than the Herald imagineswill imag-ineswill not rage against and dictum about great poets. Knowing their limitations, limi-tations, they see the absurdity of self-election self-election to the Hall of Fame wherein are written the names of the mizhty men of letters. But of course there are others who will be troubled. Sacred Heart Reviews. Bells of St. MarksT Out of the shadows of sadness, Into the sunshine of gladness. Into the light of the blest; Out of a land very dreary. Out of the world very weary, Into the rapture of rest. Out of today's sin and sorrow, Into a blissful tomorrow, Into a day without gloom; Out of a land filled with sighing, Land of the dead and the dying. Into a land without tomb. Out of a life of commotion, , Tempest-swept oft as the ocean, Dark with the wrecks drifting o'er, Into a land calm and quiet, Never a storm cometh nigh it, Never a wreck on its shore. , Out of a land in whose bowers Perish and fade all the flowers; Out of the land of decay. Into the Eden where fairest Of flowerlets. and sweetest and rarest, Never shall wither away. Out of the world of the wailing. Thronged with the anguished and ailing; ail-ing; Out of the world of the sad, Into the ' world that rejoices World of bright visions and voices Into the world of the glad. Out of a live ever mournful, Out of a land very lornful. Where in bleak exile we roam, Into a joy-land above us, Where there's a Father to love us Into our home "Sweet Home." Rev. Abram J. Ryan. "Americans Always Look for Best." Cardinal Merry del Val, papal secretary secre-tary of state, in his address at the recent re-cent golden jubilee celebration of the American college, spoke interestingly and suggestively of the church In America Amer-ica and of the great loyalty of American Amer-ican Catholics to the holy see. "As I listened to the speakers on Thursday," he said, "I endeavored to find an explanation for what would appear ap-pear to be what I would call a kind of natural impulse in Americans tq be so full of love and loyalty toward the holy see and toward the Catholic church; and I tried to discover a reason why they are eagerly prompt to accept the decisions of the holy father, why America Amer-ica offers so rich and so fertile a soil for the extension of the aCtholic religion and for the influence of Christ's church. "And I think that I have found an answer. It is for you to judge whether I am right. I am speaking from a human hu-man standpoint. I know full well that the great progress of the Catholic church in America is due above all things to divine grace, that God can overcome every obstacle and, if necessary, neces-sary, from the very stones raise up children chil-dren to Abraham. I know how much is to be attributed to the labors and enlightened en-lightened zeal of the pastors of the flock-in flock-in the United States, to the energy and apostolic spirit of the clergy, to the initiative in-itiative and devotion of many noble 1 members of the laity. But, still, considering consid-ering the matter in a different way, is j not another explanation of this progress I to be found in one of the prominent features fea-tures of the American character? 1 "It strikes me that the true American Ameri-can always looks for the best in every , direction. He wants what Is thorough, what is true, what is real, and just as he seeks the best in every path of life, in commerce and industry and practical affairs, so when he comes to consider the interests of his immortal soul and his eternal salvation, he wants what is genuine and true, he wants the best again. He- seeks for a faith that really comes from heaven and somebody who can unerringly communicate that faith to him. He is not satisfied with mer-? opinions and clever theories, no matter how respectable those opinions and theories the-ories may be. "The true American wants .the certainty cer-tainty of divine faith and the security of a teaching that is really supernatural and a safe means of reaching his eternal eter-nal destiny. And this he finds in the authoritative and infallible teaching ! which comes from the see of Peter, from the Vicar of Christ on earth. He seeks for virtue, not in its outward appearances, appear-ances, but real and solid virtue with a supernatural principle and a supernatural super-natural object. And here again Rome with centuries at her back shows him that virtue and the way to practice it The American requires discipline and an authority which is not tyranny but compatible with legitimate freedom, whilst able when necessary to curb and quell disorder. This, too, he finds in the Catholic church. Hence it is that all Americans worthy of the name, s when once they know now the church as she really is and not as she is often represented to be, are naturally inclined to love the apostolic see and to hold themselves faithful and loyal to it." conversion ot son or Bret Harte. The reception of the only surviving son of the late Bret Harte, the famous American novelist, into the church took place lately in Rome. Mr. Harte was converted by Dr. Hagan, vice rector of the Irish college in Rome, and received baptism at his hands in the ancient Basilica of St. Agatha. Right Rev. Dr. ; Linneborn, bishop of Dacca, India, administered ad-ministered the sacrament of confirmation confirma-tion to both Mr. and Mrs. Harte, as Mrs. Harte, though previously a Catholic, Cath-olic, felt certain she had not been confirmed. con-firmed. It was by mere chance Mr. Harte fell into conversation with him who was to bring him into a church to which he was anything but partial. A discussion on miracles led to further controversy, and when Mr. Harte found his religiou weak in one point he probed further. The further he probed the weaker he found to be the church he had so ardently ar-dently upheld, so that a year later he abjured it forever. Mr. and Mrs. Harte were received in audience by the holy father on the evening of their confirmation. ' Progress in Cuba. ; With the beginning of the present fiscal year the republic of Cuba estab- ! lished a bureau of Information, Presi- ' dent Gomez appointing Leon J. Canova, an American newspaper man, who has resided in Cuba eleven years and has a wide acquaintance with the island, as its director. " ' Tarties wishing information of any nature concerning Cuba can obtain same, free of charge, by writing to Leon J. Canova, U. and I bureau (utility and S information bureau), department of ag- J riculture, commerce and labor, Havana i Cuba. . ' , m. . What Killed the Cat? $ Little Davey Sloan is forever asking aj questions. -J "You'd better keep still, or something will happen to you," his tired mother finally told him one night. "Curiosity once killed a cat, you know." -JJ Davey was so impressed with this l that he kept silent for three minutes vV Then: "Say. mother, what was it the cat S wanted to know?" Everybody's. e |