The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 27, 1904, Page 7

DARBY O’GILL » w\_/w - ; GQOD, PEOPLE 0'0 .l HERMINIE [EMPLETON T _— T THE DIVIZ FOIe e second 27V BERUVITFUL Cow .”’ PR ¢ angry gher than Z a green vel ap, and in every cap '’ spaip marched eur bould tail hammering h ¥y to his trade, mal out of w rs ter of the moun- ty times higher gest chureh in drew near this und of a reel rose the s e willing to come with us at all, at all; and here you own free act and will. How- u're here and we darn’t lel de to tell others of what , and so give us a bad bout taking things, you make you as comfortable posers3 and so you won't worry moon and the childher, I'll T oo a goold sovereign left with them - day of their i ives. I wish we s "-"rav on you,” he says, witha, aisy to see you're great bomring e - comp. That's how Darby O’Gill began his six months’ stay with the Good People. Not a thing was left undone to make Darby contented and happy. A elviler people than the Good People he never At first he couldn't get over say- 0d save all here” and “God save y,” and things like that, which was like burning them with a hot iron. £ it we t for Maureen MeGibney, Darby would be in Slefve-na-mon at this hour. On a2 day whew they two were sitting alone together she sayy to him: . “Darby, dear,” says she, “it isn't right for a dacint man of family to be spendin’ his days covertin’ and idlin’ an’ fillin’ the hours with sport and nen- “Thrue for ye!” moaned Darby, “and my heart is just splittin’ for a sight of Bridget an’ the childher.” “I know how well you feel” says Maureen, “for I'q give the world to say three words to Bob Broderick, since ye tell me that out of grief for me he has never kept company with any other girl till this day. But that'll never be,” ly in her own these three years. u before, I tell you he finest reel dancer came from a gh I say it who was my mother’s own things in the worruld ve, whisky and mu- urprise of it all feet led him n k of the throng, right under rone of the King, where he flung the winds and put his heart and his two nimble feet. Dar- ng was such that purty soon to admire, half the dancers €. clapping € encourage- uld King grew so excited d down the pipes, took up came down from the throme, nst Dardy, began a e first. g lasted a whele hour, no one speaking 2 word except to cry out, “Foot it, ye divil!” “Aisy now, he's : threading on flowers!” “Hoeroo! hoo- - roo! hooray!” Then the King stopped and said: “Well, that bates Banagher, and Ban- | agher bates the worruld’! Who are you and how came you here?” Then Darby up and tould the whole met. mind into fairies g the d threaten- after lightning, hitting on hayro. If it wasn't hurting Rosie the fairies ¥ bave killed Darby. rued into the long, nar- ch cuts into the east untain the Good Peopie t up with the pair, and what they o to Darby in the line of stick- story. ‘When he had finished, the King look- ed sayrious. “I'm glad you came, an’ I'm sorry you came,” he says. “If we had put our charm om you outside to bring you in you’'d never die till the ind of the worruid, when we here must all go to heil. But,” he added, quickly, “there’s no use in worrying about that - tion—free—with the \Jf I Flamnommis, TAIK Ya P A T, KO she says, “because I must stop here till the Day of Judgment, then I must go to ." says she, beginning to cry, “but if you get out you'll bear a message to Bob for me, maybe?” she says. “It's aisy to talk about going out, but how can it be done?” asked Darby. “There's a way.,” says Maureen, wip- ing her big gray evyes, “but it may take years. First, you must know that the Good People can never put their charm on any ane who is willing to come with them. That's why you came safe. Then, again, they can’t work harm in the daylight, and after cock-crow any mortal eye can see them plain; por can they harm any one who bas a sprig of holly, nor pass over a leaf or twig of holly, because that’s Christmas bloom. ‘Well, there’s a certain evil word for 2 charm that opens the side of the moun- tain, and I will try to find it out for you. Without that word all the armies in the worruld couldn’t get out or in. But you must be patient and wise and wait.” “I will so, with the help of God,” says Darby. “AN EASTER OFFERING.” This beautiful colored supplement is a rare art photograph by Tonnessen. little boy with the St. Joseph Lilies is alone the most perfect subject ever used in such a reverential theme in America. You will get this magnificent crea- The Next Sunday Call Easter Edmon. At these words Maureen gave a ter- rible screech. “Cruel man!™ she cried, “don’t you know that to say plous words to one of the Good People, or to one ur black charm, is ke cutting knife?" The next night again. “Watch yourseif now,” she says, “for to-night they're goin’ to lave the door of the mountain open to thry you; and if you stir two steps outside they'll put she came to Dardy the co " she say s gh, when Darby took his wa passage after supper, & he side the mountain lay in sight. The temptation to ma rush was great; but he there the At another time Maureen sa. “The King himseif L you hard the day, so bewar er said the words thas Darby it’s the last we'l I'm going to se that's what I a ays Darby, putting on ow bave I off e t all” says the King, varsion all worruld it was rouble and sic 32 De Darby feared to trust himseif outside in their company. Vell ye bow It is~ replied that'd dlsgrace Bi dher,” he says. The King knocked ashes from his besides Mn( tha says he, “an” take my word have you always at t Judgment, when— here por . there! bother you about if “You're & wise man, hoight of good company.” it’s sorry I for then we v laste till the Day From that day tBey treated him as one of their own. It was nearly five months afther that Maureen plucked Darby by the coat and led him off to a lo -ve got the word,” e says. “Have you, faith! What is it Darby, ail of a thrimble. Then she whispered a word so blas- phaymous, so Irrayligious that Darby blessed himself. When Maureen saw him making the sign, she down in a fit, the holy emblem hurt her so, pour child. Three hours after Darby was sitting at talking to Bridget and The neighbors we: urr down every road fleld, carrying a this me bould his own fireside the childher. had them make a ! around the house that walk through without to or leat. But that was not al made a second ring of he first, so that great wreaths, other. The outs bigger and left a it and the first, wi many people to stand t It was like the inner ring, except for a If left open as though by accident, the fairies could walk in But it wasn't an acecid the wise plan of Maureen's; this little gap, in the outside wreath, lay a sprig of holly with a bit of twins tted to it.. Then the twine ran along up to Darbra house, and in through the window, where its ind lay convayn- fent to his har A little pull on the twine would drag the stray plece cf holly into the gap and close tight the Jutside ring. Weil, anyway, these things we hardly finished and fixed when t dusky brown of the hills warned the neighbors of twilight and they scurried like frightened rabbits to their homes. Only one among them all had courags to sit outside Darby’s house waliting the dreadful wisitors, and that one was Bob Broderick. For some rayson or other the Good People were long in coming. Ten o’clock struck, thin eleven, afther that twelve, and not a sound from the out- side. Within the minute a thousand rustling woices sprung from outside. Through the window, in the clear moonlight, Darby marked weeds and grass being trampeled by invisible feet beyond the furthest ring of holly. Suddenly broke a great cry. The gap in the first ring was found. Signs wers pilainly seen of uncountable feet rush- ing through and spreading about the pearer wreath. Afther that a howl of madness from the little men and women. Darby had pulled his twine and the trap was closed, with five thou- sand of the Good People entirely at his mercy. nces, princesses, dukes, dukesses, n.rln:. earlesses, and all the quality of Sleive-na-mon were prisoners. Not more than a dozen of the last to come escapéd, and they flew back to tell the King. ' = space between of sthraw If he ever catches ™ " says Dl'by that the roaring A..d b 'Ltn‘ n* an" wondherin’ an’ o their Bomes. 4 him what had happened. h man” says the priest, “you could have got out every poor prisoner that's locked In Slefve-na- mon. let alone those from the parish ™ could have séraped with a kaife the surprise off Darby’s face. “Would your Reverence have me let out the Corkonians, the Connaught men the Fardowns, I ask ye?” he says, hotly. “When Mrs Malowney there goes home and finds that TIm has mar- ried the Widow Hogan, yell say I let out too many, even of this parisk I'm ut,” says the prisst, “ye -might got two hundred pounds for aich have of us. “If aich had two hundred pounds, what comfort would I have in being rich?” axed Darby agin. “To enjoy well being rich there should be plenty of poor,” says Darby. “God forgive ye, yo selfish man says Father Casaldy. “There's another rayson besides. ™ says Dn-by 1 never got betther n friendlt ment than I had fro the Good Pfic:‘ An" the devil & hair of their heads I'd hurt more than need be.” he says. Some way or other the Ki this saying, an’ was so that the next night a poteen After that, y night, when the snow lay %0 hea no neighbor was stirrin’, and when Bridget and the childher were bed, Darby sat by the fire, a noggin of ho punch in his hand. argying an’ gau ng news of the wh E man with a gooild crown on h_she. a green cloak on his back and one fo trun over the other, sat furninst him by the Rearth