"Out of the old worldInto the new,True land or fairyland,Say, which are you?"
"Out of the old worldInto the new,True land or fairyland,Say, which are you?"
"Shaun O'Day has been stolen by the leprechauns!" That was the whisper that buzzed all about the village the next day.
Little Eileen, with swollen eyes, told her mother how she had left the lad on the bank of the lake. She told how he had planned to put on the clothing of a boy and call the fairies. She wept as she told how brave he had been and how he had promised to write to her.
Her mother smiled sadly and said, "Och, the poor lad will never write! Never will Ireland see himself again! Sure, it's lost he is, and he standing by the banks of that lake in the clothing of a man child! For the fairies do be looking for his likes. Well pleased were they surely to find him!"
She sighed, and so did all the rest of the village folk. They all left milk upon their window sills that night.
They spoke together of the Good People and said, "God bless them!"
For, you see, they wanted to win the good will of the fairies.
Shaun's stepmother was as certain as any of the rest that the boy had been stolen.
She said, "And luck to the Good People! May they work the lazy lad and make a man of him!"
She was not sorry for Shaun. But she was sorry for herself that he was not there to work for her any more.
In a few months nobody spoke of Shaun in the village. He was forgotten. He was forgotten by all but little Eileen. She thought of him each day.
And ofttimes she went to the lake and talked to the blue waters. She asked them where the fairies had taken her Shauneen.
But the wind only blew ripples over the blue waters of the lake. And the trees sighed, and Eileen ran home crying.
She did not tell her mother. She kept her secret in her heart and kept her heart open for Shauneen.
Then one day after many months, a letter came to the town. It was for Eileen. It came from a strange land; and everyone in the village was curious about it.
Some of the old folks in the village did not know English. They spoke only Irish. But the children in the village all knew English, for they studied it in school.
The letter to Eileen was written in English. The little girl ran to the side of the blue lake. She opened the letter with trembling fingers.
This is what she read:
"Dawn O'Day, I have traveled far. The many lands I've seen and the many strange things would open wide your eyes. I am in a fairy city. The lights at night do be shining like the stars. And the noise is like a thousand thunders."But the shoemaker is kind. I work hard, but I am paid a handsome sum. And I study at night in a fine school. I am happy but for the sorrow of leaving you. Keep in your heart your faith, for I'll be coming back to get you.Your Shaun."
"Dawn O'Day, I have traveled far. The many lands I've seen and the many strange things would open wide your eyes. I am in a fairy city. The lights at night do be shining like the stars. And the noise is like a thousand thunders.
"But the shoemaker is kind. I work hard, but I am paid a handsome sum. And I study at night in a fine school. I am happy but for the sorrow of leaving you. Keep in your heart your faith, for I'll be coming back to get you.
Your Shaun."
When Eileen walked back to the village with her letter clasped in her hand, a crowd of children surrounded her.
"And what is in it?" shouted one.
"Are the fairies themselves writing to you?" laughed another.
Eileen shook her curls and would not answer.
One cried, "Och, you cannot keep it secret at all, at all! 'Tis from himself—Shaun O'Day, and 'tis from America!"
The crowd set up a loud roar. "Yes, yes, we know! From America! We saw the mark! 'Tis a fine secret you'd keep, Eileen!"
Eileen's face became red with anger.
"Stop!" she cried. "'Tis not true! He's with the fairies! He's in a fairy city! 'Tis himself says so!"
But the crowd only laughed the moreloudly. "Ho! A fairy city! And why, then, is the letter marked with the mark of America?"
Eileen had wondered, too, about this. She wondered about the postmark. It said "U.S.A." And that meant United States of America.
"'Tis a trick of the fairies!" she cried, believing it herself. "A trick to put us off their track! 'Tis himself that's working for the fairy shoemaker in a fairy city!"
She then told them what Shaun had said about the lights at night and the thunder noise. She told how he was receiving pay for his work and about the school to which he went.
They stopped shouting and listened.Their jaws fell open. They were forced to believe that Shaun was truly in the land of the leprechaun!
Still, some were doubtful and went away wagging their heads and sneering.
"'Tis said that in great cities in the New World such things do be," said one.
But Eileen was happy. No matter where Shaun was, she knew that he was well. She knew that he thought of her and that they would meet again some day.
Letters came often after that. In each one were tales of great wonder. Even the most doubtful of the villagers had to admit that the boy was with the fairies.
He told of strange people, of amusements, of towers touching the sky, and of sights that dazzled his eyes.
Shaun had traveled all the way to a big American city. A bright, strong lad was he.
He could always find ways of working himself along. On ships and trains,in motors, and upon his two feet he traveled.
When he arrived in the strange city across the sea, he sold papers on the streets.
His clear Irish voice rang out with its brogue. Many persons smiled as they listened to the fresh young voice of Shaun O'Day from Connemara.
But one man stopped and spoke to the lad. He, too, was an Irishman. He spoke kindly to Shaun.
The boy told him about his trip and the strangeness he felt in this new land. So this Irishman, Pat O'Leary, took Shaun to his shop.
Pat O'Leary was a shoemaker. He had a tiny shop on a side street in thegreat city. Here he worked at his trade and lived in a dingy room in the back of the shop.
'Twas thus that Shaun O'Day found a home. And 'twas thus that he started to work for a shoemaker. Pat O'Leary was not a fairy shoemaker. But a good fairy was he to the Irish lad.
He was wrinkled and bent. He might have been an old leprechaun who had lost his way upon earth. He was jolly and smiling, with a joke ever upon his lips.
Shaun lived and worked with Pat and was happy. At night he went to school in the big city and learned many things.
The bright lights, flickering on and off, made him blink his eyes. The tall towers and buildings made his neck stiff with looking up.
The noise of the traffic and whistles and motors and people made his ears tingle.
But he loved it and wrote each week to his little friend in Ireland and told her of the magic of it all. He told it with a twinkle in his Irish eyes as he wrote.
He knew she would think he was with the fairies. He knew she, too, would think this big city fairyland if she were here with him.
So he smiled to himself as he wrote to her. And the smiles tumbled down from his lips to the paper on which he wrote.
And when Eileen received the letters those same smiles jumped up and settled on her own two pretty lips. She liked to think that her Shaun was in a fairy city. He knew she would like to think it.
So he went on telling her about the wonders, without ever saying he was in the city of New York.
It was a simple jest. He would not have deceived her for worlds. But that twinkle made him play with her. It made him write letters that read like fairy tales.
And sometimes he wrote verse like this:
Towers tallMake Shauneen smallFeel like nothingAt all, at all!
Towers tallMake Shauneen smallFeel like nothingAt all, at all!
Years went by. One day a very smallgirl came into the shoemaker's shop.
Shaun was growing to be a tall boy now. He was tall and manly. But the Irish bloom was still on his face, with the smile of his country.
A very small girl came into the shop with her nurse. While the nurse talked to Pat O'Leary, the little miss came over and sat upon a stool by the side of Shaun O'Day.
He gave her his Irish smile. She gave him a friendly American smile.
She was a pretty, blond baby, with teeth as white as milk and eyes the brown of tree bark.
It was not long before the Irish lad was telling her the stories of his land. She sat spellbound while he talked ofthe fairies. He worked upon a shoe while he talked.
TELLING STORIES OF HIS LANDTELLING STORIES OF HIS LAND
He told her about the leprechaun. And she thought he might be one, from the way he looked as he worked upon that shoe.
HE WORKED UPON ONE SHOE WHILE HE TALKEDHE WORKED UPON ONE SHOE WHILE HE TALKED
Then her nurse called, "Come, Marjorie. We must go!" Marjorie did not want to go. She stamped her little foot.
"Come, now," begged Nurse, "andto-morrow we will be coming back."
You see, Nurse was Irish, too, and she loved to talk with Pat O'Leary.
Marjorie could twine Nurse about her little finger and make her do as she wished. Marjorie could make almost everybody do as she wished, for she was sweet and pretty, and she had dimples.
MARJORIEMARJORIE
But sometimes she was very stubborn and naughty. Then she did not look so pretty. Her dimple did not seem to be a fairy ripple when she was cross.
Marjorie and Nurse left the shop. All that day, Marjorie thought of the Irish lad's tales.
The next day they came again, andthe next, and the next. Marjorie loved to go to the shop each day and listen to the tales of Shaun O'Day.
But one day a frightful thing happened. Marjorie's dimple was looking more like a smudge of dirt than like a fairy ripple.
It was evening. Marjorie heard the water running for her bath.
She stamped her foot at Nurse and cried, "I won't take a bath!"
When Nurse called to her that the bath was ready, Marjorie was nowhere to be found. She had run away from her home.
Marjorie ran to the shop of Pat O'Leary, straight to Shaun O'Day.
Shaun was surprised and shocked tosee the little girl alone and at such a late hour. He was just starting off for his school.
Marjorie wanted the lad to tell her tales. But he shook his head.
"Sure, 'tis the wicked child you are, Miss Marjorie," he said. "And 'tis myself will carry you back to your home."
So saying, he picked her up under his arm and took her to her home. Imagine how surprised her parents were when they saw this sight at their door.
There was Shaun, the red-haired Irish lad, standing with their wee daughter tucked under his big arm. She was kicking and squealing like a little pig.
KICKING AND SQUEALING LIKE A LITTLE PIGKICKING AND SQUEALING LIKE A LITTLE PIG
"Begging your pardon, sir," saidShaun to Marjorie's father, "I've brought you the young lady of the house!"
Marjorie was sent upstairs to bed. I do not know whether her mother spanked her, but I think she did not. Her mother spoiled her the way everyone else did.
Downstairs, Shaun told Marjorie's father how she had come to the shop. Her father asked Shaun to sit down.He liked the boy. He asked Shaun about his life. Marjorie's father wanted to know about Ireland, too. Shaun talked with his slow brogue. His blue eyes twinkled with the truth there was in them.
Marjorie's father asked Shaun, "Would you not like to change your home? Come and work for me in this house. I will have you taught the work of a butler, if you will come here and stay. You shall tell Marjorie tales every day."
You see, her father was another who wanted to do everything in the world for this little American Princess.
So it came about that Shaun changed his home and his work. He left theshop of Pat O'Leary. And a letter came to Dawn O'Day in Ireland.
It said: "So here I am in the house of a fairy Princess. She did wave her wand, and I was brought to live here by her father. 'Tis a good man he is, too. And I love the baby Princess well and do be pleasing her with tales of old Ireland.
"I'm learning the trade of a butler. I'm after serving themselves out of golden goblets and glass plates the color of Ireland's green. The table shines with bright crystal and silver. The food is beautiful to look upon.
"Then the pay I do get is indeed grand. 'Tis all to be saved for our wedding day, mavourneen."
A giant did call at a fairy ballWith the wee folk he wanted to play,But as soon as he lifted his clumsy armHe frightened the fairies away.Then back they all came and they played their game,And the giant once more tried to play,But so quick and so light were the fairies brightThey frightened the giant away.
A giant did call at a fairy ballWith the wee folk he wanted to play,But as soon as he lifted his clumsy armHe frightened the fairies away.
Then back they all came and they played their game,And the giant once more tried to play,But so quick and so light were the fairies brightThey frightened the giant away.
When Marjorie's nurse went out, it was Shaun who took Marjorie to play in the park. Sometimes they stayed in the big gardens of Marjorie's home, and Shaun told stories.
SHAUN TOLD MARJORIE STORIES IN THE GARDENSHAUN TOLD MARJORIE STORIES IN THE GARDEN
But occasionally the little girl liked to go where she would meet her friends.
On such a day Shaun and Marjorie were playing ball with the children in the park. They were throwing the ball to one another.
Shaun was standing among them like a giant. He was trying to be gentle as he threw the ball. But all at once his strength let go and over the tree tops went the ball.
"O-oh, what a terrible throw!" sneered a small boy.
Shaun ran and brought back the ball. He tried to be more careful. But once he threw it into the duck pond, and at last he lost it altogether. He heard a child snickering as he came back from an unsuccessful search.
Marjorie said, "Let's go home. I'm tired, anyway."
She looked cross, but she did not say a word to Shaun on the way home.
That night Shaun was dressing to help the butler serve dinner. He looked at his big hands.
He looked at his strong arms and sighed, "Och! Shaun O'Day is too big to be the playmate of a fairy princess!"
But he did not worry until later.
Then that evening when he was helping wash dishes, the cook said, "Watch out, boy. You'll break the dishes yet, with your big, clumsy hands."
He tried so hard to be careful. He tried too hard, perhaps, for what cook had warned him of came to pass. He broke a precious cup and saucer.
The other servants said nothing, but smiled behind their hands.
Cook, however, cautioned, "Mind you don't do that again, boy."
Shaun went to his room with a heavyheart that night. What was the matter? Was he too big, too clumsy?
Would he never learn to be deft and quick like Perkins the butler? Or neat and brisk like the chauffeur Paul?
Oh, well, he could only try. He could be very careful. But anyway, Marjorie still loved his tales.
He could tell stories and amuse the Princess. That was one thing none of the others could do. He fell asleep smiling.
A few days later, Marjorie told him that she was planning a birthday party. She told him about all the amusements they were to have. Many children were to be asked.
They would have ice cream and cakeand chocolate in the garden under the trees. Shaun would serve them.
They would play games, and Shaun would tell them stories. Oh, that was to be the best part of all, Marjorie thought.
Shaun and the little girl planned the party together. Shaun suggested an Irish game, and Marjorie said it would be fun to play it.
So the day arrived. It was a shiny spring day. It was a pretty sight to see the little boys and girls running about and playing together in the green garden.
Marjorie cried out, "Come now! Shaun will show you how to play his game."
And the tall lad stood among the little children. He tried to make them understand what fun it was to play an old Irish game.
It was a game that Shaun had played and that Shaun's father had played and perhaps Shaun's father's father.
But these young Americans did not like it. They said so. They turned their backs and refused to play it.
So Marjorie said, "Then Shaun will tell us a story."
The children gathered around Shaun and he began: "Once upon a time in old Ireland—"
"Will there be any wars in the story?" asked one of the children—a boy, of course.
Shaun twinkled and replied, "Perhaps."
"ONCE UPON A TIME IN OLD IRELAND""ONCE UPON A TIME IN OLD IRELAND"
Then he went on. He was telling a fairy tale. The boys began to realize that it was not about wild Indians and wars. They twisted and fidgeted. They dug their heels into the ground, andone boy pinched another. He squealed aloud.
"S-sh!" said one girl. "Stop making that noise!"
But the boys did not want to listen.
One boy stood up and said, "Who wants to hear about fairies?"
"I don't! I don't!" yelled the others.
Marjorie frowned.
The boys ran away, shouting, "Come on! Let's play robbers."
Marjorie said, "They would have liked Shaun's story. They should have listened. It was awf'lly 'citing! But he hardly started to tell it."
By this time the group was scattered. Even the little girls were whispering together.
Shaun got up and walked away. He walked to a bench at the other end of the garden and sat down. He was thinking very deeply.
He sat there until he heard his name called. He had to go into the house to help bring out ice cream and cake and chocolate to Marjorie's guests.
As he served little ice cream boats and flowers and animals, his thoughts were far away. The crystal and gold of the plates and goblets did not seem so lovely as before.
Everything on the table swam before Shaun's eyes. Even the children's faces seemed blurred. He heard their talk and laughter in a dream.
He was very unhappy.
"Oh, Shaun, do look what you're doing!" cried a voice in distress.
Shaun looked in horror at what he had done. He had poured hot chocolate over the tablecloth. It was trickling down over a little girl's dress.
Perkins the butler grabbed the chocolate pot out of Shaun's hand.
He muttered, "Clumsy fellow!" and started mopping up.
The little girl began to cry.
Shaun went into the kitchen for a fresh napkin. When he came out to the party again, he heard the children snickering and whispering among themselves. As he approached the table, they stopped. He knew they were making sport of his clumsiness.
He looked at Marjorie. There were tears in her brown eyes, and she was biting her lip. That night Shaun packed his few things and left a letter for Marjorie.
THERE WERE TEARS IN MARJORIE'S BROWN EYESTHERE WERE TEARS IN MARJORIE'S BROWN EYES
He told her that he was too clumsy to stay in the home of a princess any longer. He told her that he should never forget her kindness to him.
Then he wrote another letter and put a stamp on it. He walked out of thebig house with the letter in one hand and his old Irish carpet bag in the other.
He walked along the bright city streets until he came to a mail box. He kissed the letter and then dropped it into the box.
Dawn O'Day read the letter a few weeks later in Ireland.
This is what it said:
"My Dawn O'Day—
"At last I am leaving the fairy folk. My fingers have grown too clumsy and my arms too big for the dainty likes of the Good People. Those elves, the children of this bright world, do not be wanting Shaun O'Day any more.
"And so, little Eileen, I am comingback to you and Ireland. And in my pocket is silver and gold to buy us a wedding and a cottage.
"But the cottage will not be in that New Island. 'Twill be in the old Emerald Isle.
Your Shaun."
Shaun sold everything he had but an old suit of clothes. He bought a ticket on a boat going to England and sailed away from New York.
As the big ship left behind her the great American city, the Irish lad saluted and murmured, "Farewell, fairyland. 'Tis too grand you are for the likes of a simple lad like me. But, och, a wonderful, great fairyland you are!"
Slowly the stately harbor disappeared from view.
"Come cuddle close in Daddy's coatBeside the fire so bright,And hear about the fairy folkThat wander in the night."
"Come cuddle close in Daddy's coatBeside the fire so bright,And hear about the fairy folkThat wander in the night."
—Robert Bird
It is to-day in Ireland. Shaun O'Day is married to Eileen. He has made her his Dawn O'Day.
They have built a cottage near the banks of that blue Irish lake. They live there with their children.
Shaun and Dawn O'Day have three children. Their youngest is a red-haired baby girl with the eyes and the name of her mother.
Their oldest is a lanky, freckle-facedlad who wears the cast-off trousers of his father. No more do tall boys wear the petticoats of girls. They are not afraid of the leprechaun when they reach the age of ten or twelve years.
But their mothers still keep them dressed as girls when they are small. And that is why we find John, the second son of Shaun O'Day, in a red petticoat. He looks very much the way Shaun himself had looked at that age.
John had been christened Shaun. But they call him John, because it is to-day in Ireland. Young Shaun was called John O'Day.
John had the ruddy complexion given most of these village lads by the wind and rain. But he was not astough and strong as his father had been. He did not have to work. He could come home from school and do as he pleased. Sometimes, of course, he ran errands for his mother or helped her with household chores. But usually he would go to the shores of the lake and think.
Shaun once found his son thus. He went up to John quietly. He put his hand on the lad's shoulder. John jumped and stood erect, his face white.
"Och, why do you jump with such a great fear, my lad?" asked the father.
John sat down again. He was ashamed. He did not speak.
"Tell me, lad: What is it you fear?" asked the father.
HE WOULD GO TO THE SHORES OF THE LAKEHE WOULD GO TO THE SHORES OF THE LAKE
Then John told his father how some boy in the village had started a tale. The lad had told how, many years ago, Shaun had been stolen away by the leprechauns.
John told how it had happened on theshores of this very lake. He would not believe it and said so.
Still he often lay on his back by the lake and wondered whether it could be true. Now he asked Shaun to tell him.
Shaun stroked his rough chin. The twinkle he had had as a boy was there in his eyes still. He looked at little John beside him.
"Och, Johneen!" he laughed with his musical laugh. "'Tis indeed a true story."
John's eyes grew big. He stared at his father as though Shaun himself might be one of the Good People.
Then he spread out the red petticoat on the ground. He knew that the red petticoat would protect him.
Shaun looked in amusement at the boy's frightened eyes. Then he grew sober.
He said, "You must not fear the Good People, Johneen!"
John wet his dry lips with the tip of his tongue. He came up closer to his father.
"But didn't they make you work for themselves?" he whispered. "And weren't they after stealing you away, and you wearing the clothes of a boy?"
"Yes, yes," agreed Shaun. But he took his little son's hand and stroked it. "And now," he went on, "if you'll listen, I'll tell you the story."
Shaun began, "When I was a lad I was not so fortunate as you, Johneen. Ihad to work hard. I was beaten and had not enough to eat. So I determined to go with the leprechaun. I put on the clothes of a boy. I stood by the lake. But never a fairy came at all, at all.
"I was tired and slept, and when I awoke 'twas dawn. I ran to the shore in a daze. I jumped into a boat. I was carried away. Through many countries and on many seas I traveled.
"At last I landed in the fairy city. 'Twas there I met the leprechaun himself."
John's hand squeezed the hand of his father. He edged up closer to the big man.
"But do not be thinking that this leprechaunwas wicked," continued Shaun. "No, indeed. Kind he was, and good to me. I worked on the mending of shoes and was paid in silver.
"Then did I work for a little princess in the home of her father. Good People they were, too. And the sight of the beauty of that home would surely have dazzled you.
"Among the precious treasures of that house I worked. With the treasured little Princess did I play until at last—"
Here the big man stopped. His voice grew low and soft. He dropped his head.
John asked in a hushed whisper, "Yes—and what happened?"
"Och, well—lad—I came back to old Ireland. Your mother was waiting for me."
Then Shaun arose and placed his hand on John's shoulder.
He continued, "But remember, son, that the Good People will not harm you. Do not be afraid, at all, for well do they love us. And I do believe that they steal the wee boys because they love them so."
Shaun told this tale to the lad John, so he would never again fear the fairies.
And so well did the plan succeed that John began to love the Good People. Over and over, he thought of what Shaun had told him.
He tried to imagine what the baby Princess looked like. He would shut his eyes and try to picture the wonders of that fairy city.
One day he found himself pretending that he was flying over the city. He started and jumped to his feet.
Why had he been doing this? Did he, too, want to go away with the fairies? Of course not. Why should he want to leave his home, his good parents, his brother and sister?
Laughing aloud, he went back to the cottage. He did not visit the lake for several days.
Then one morning, he was walking by himself in the sunshine. The little sparkling beams of sun made himthink of the lights his father had told him about in the strange city.
Suddenly he found himself on the banks of the lake. He was on the opposite shore. He sat down.
He wondered whether the leprechaunwould steal him if he should wear the clothes of his big brother. The brightness of the day and the bird songs made him light of heart. They gave him courage.
"Sure, I'll try," he exclaimed to the blue waters of the lake.
What harm to try? Suppose they took him. It would be fun to visit fairyland. He could always come back. His father came back.
In his new enthusiasm, John stood on the bank and held out his arms crying, "Come, fairy Good Folk! Take me away. I do be wanting to see the wonders of your land!"
But the gentle lapping of the lake was the only answer to his cry. ThenJohn realized that he was standing in the red petticoat. He smiled.
"They'll not be wanting girls, at all," he reasoned.
"THEY'LL NOT BE WANTING GIRLS AT ALL""THEY'LL NOT BE WANTING GIRLS AT ALL"
Next day, before anyone in the cottage was astir, John slipped out of the door. He was clad in a suit belonging to his older brother. The trousers hung very low, but he tucked them up. He pulled a cap down over his face.
He ran all the way to the opposite shore of the lake. His heart was pounding, and his breath came in gasps.
He threw himself down on the ground to rest. Bird sounds were all about, and a rustling of leaves. The water was lap-lapping as always.
"To the fairyland afarWhere the Little People are."
"To the fairyland afarWhere the Little People are."
—Robert Louis Stevenson
Marjorie was now grown up. She looked quite different from the tiny golden-haired girl Shaun had known. She was a tall, slender young lady.
Her dimple still became a fairy ripple when she was happy. When she was cross, it still seemed a smudge of dirt.
Marjorie was often cross now. The reason was a strange one. She had too much to make her happy. She had loving parents and a beautiful home. She had many friends who adored her.
She was very beautiful, too. Everything lovely belonged to Marjorie. Even wealth was hers.
Her father gave her everything she asked for. She had an automobile. She had a beautiful glossy horse to ride.
She went to jolly parties, and all the boys wanted to dance with her. They sent her boxes of chocolate creams and rare flowers.
MARJORIE WAS NOW GROWN UPMARJORIE WAS NOW GROWN UP
But Marjorie was not happy with all this. She wanted the one thing that she could not have.
Often she spoke about Shaun O'Day. He had written to her from Ireland when he returned. He had sent her a shamrock and his picture. After that, she had never heard from him again.
She had cried bitterly for many days after Shaun's departure. She had blamed her rude companions for having insulted the Irish lad. She wanted him back.
But of course Shaun never went back to America. He was too happy in Ireland. You know why he was happy. He had his Dawn O'Day and his little children.
So he hardly ever thought of the baby Princess in "fairyland." He was too busy working hard to make a living for his family. He had so little money. But it did not make him unhappy. Sometimes it is a good thing when people have to work. It makes them happy.
You see how discontented Marjorie was. And she had so much! But she finally found a wish that seemed impossible to grant.
When she knew that she might never have Shaun again, she wanted him more than ever. She pleaded with her father to send for him. But that was one thing her father would not do.
He knew that the lad could never behappy in this land. He knew that Shaun had the dreams of Ireland in his heart. Shaun belonged in Ireland.
SHAUN HAD THE DREAMS OF IRELANDSHAUN HAD THE DREAMS OF IRELAND
Many years passed, and Marjorie never forgot Shaun. She often looked at the young men who danced with her or who took her to the theater.
She often thought, "He is not so nice as Shaun O'Day!"
She imagined Shaun even finer than he was. She had really forgotten what he was like, and she made a prince of him in her thoughts.
"I shall never be happy until I find Shaun O'Day once more!" she said.
One day Marjorie asked her father if he would take her abroad. She wanted to visit the countries of Europe. Herfather consented, and the family sailed away on a fine ship.
They were going to France and Germany and Italy and many other countries. They had not thought of going to Ireland. But Marjorie knew that they were going to Ireland!
And in Ireland, poor little John O'Day sat by the lake waiting for the fairies. He had waited there for many days. At first he sat very still with the clumsy trousers rolled up his legs and the big cap falling over his eyes.
He sat still and listened for a sound. He heard only the lake lapping.
Then he began to bring his books along. He liked the books about Ireland that they gave him at school.
He thought the pictures of Dublin and Belfast looked very like that fairy city of which his father had told. He looked at those pictures for hours and hours. And he waited there by the banks.
—LOOKED AT THOSE PICTURES FOR HOURS AND HOURS—LOOKED AT THOSE PICTURES FOR HOURS AND HOURS
He always changed to his red petticoatbefore he went home. He did not want anyone to know what he was doing. Some might laugh at him.
His mother would be frightened and hold him close. She might make him promise never to do it again. Then he would never see the fairies.
His brother could not imagine what had become of his old suit of clothes. He had to wear his Sunday suit until he could make enough money to buy a new suit. But the days slipped by, and the boy waited in vain for the leprechaun. The longing for adventure was great in his heart.
One day he stepped to the edge of the lake and cried out in a loud voice, "Arrah, 'tis long I've waited and tiredI am! Come, Good Folk, come! Give to the son of Shaun O'Day the great wonders of your fairy powers!"
As his voice died down, he stepped back from the edge of the water. He looked about cautiously. Then his heart gave a leap. He had heard a tiny sound. It was not the lapping lake. It was not the wind in the trees.
It was surely a fairy. And as he was thinking these thoughts, he saw her.
She came gliding over the ground like a rainbow. Her gown was lavender and blue, flowing and billowy. Her dainty little shoes were snow-white. And her hair was spun gold.
A many-colored scarf twined about her neck and fluttered in the breeze.There was a beautiful perfume in the air as she appeared.
The boy backed into the bushes. He stared out at the lovely vision. His eyes were wild with fear.