Part 19 (1/2)

And daddie is crazy from drinking all day-- Come down, holy angels, and take us away!”

Eily and Eddie keep kissing and crying-- Outside, the weird winds are sobbing and sighing.

All in a moment the children are still, Only a quick coo of gladness from Will.

The sheeling no longer seems empty or bare, For, clothed in soft raiment, the mother stands there.

They gather around her, they cling to her dress; She rains down soft kisses for each shy caress.

Her light, loving touches smooth out tangled locks, And, pressed to her bosom, the baby she rocks.

He lies in his cot, there's a fire on the hearth; To Eily and Eddy 'tis heaven on earth, For mother's deft fingers have been everywhere; She lulls them to rest in the low _suggaun_[17] chair.

They gaze open-eyed, then the eyes gently close, As petals fold into the heart of a rose, But ope soon again in awe, love, but no fear, And fondly they murmur, ”Our mammie is here.”

She lays them down softly, she wraps them around; They lie in sweet slumbers, she starts at a sound, The c.o.c.k loudly crows, and the spirit's away-- The drunkard steals in at the dawning of day.

Again and again, 'tween the dark and the dawn, Glides in the dead mother to nurse Willie Bawn: Or is it an angel who sits by the hearth?

An angel in heaven, a mother on earth.

[Footnote 17: Chair made of twisted straw ropes.]

THE BLACK LAMB.[18]

LADY WILDE.

It is a custom amongst the people, when throwing away water at night, to cry out in a loud voice, ”Take care of the water;” or literally, from the Irish, ”Away with yourself from the water”--for they say that the spirits of the dead last buried are then wandering about, and it would be dangerous if the water fell on them.

One dark night a woman suddenly threw out a pail of boiling water without thinking of the warning words. Instantly a cry was heard, as of a person in pain, but no one was seen. However, the next night a black lamb entered the house, having the back all fresh scalded, and it lay down moaning by the hearth and died. Then they all knew that this was the spirit that had been scalded by the woman, and they carried the dead lamb out reverently, and buried it deep in the earth.

Yet every night at the same hour it walked again into the house, and lay down, moaned, and died; and after this had happened many times, the priest was sent for, and finally, by the strength of his exorcism, the spirit of the dead was laid to rest; the black lamb appeared no more. Neither was the body of the dead lamb found in the grave when they searched for it, though it had been laid by their own hands deep in the earth, and covered with clay.

[Footnote 18: _Ancient Legends of Ireland._]

SONG OF THE GHOST.

ALFRED PERCIVAL GRAVES.

When all were dreaming But Pastheen Power, A light came streaming Beneath her bower: A heavy foot At her door delayed, A heavy hand On the latch was laid.

”Now who dare venture, At this dark hour, Unbid to enter My maiden bower?”

”Dear Pastheen, open The door to me, And your true lover You'll surely see.”

”My own true lover, So tall and brave, Lives exiled over The angry wave.”