Kitabı oku: «Shaun O'Day of Ireland», sayfa 5
CHAPTER VII
THE GIRL FAIRY
"To the fairyland afar
Where 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.
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 be happy in this land. He knew that Shaun had the dreams of Ireland in his heart. Shaun belonged in 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. Her father 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.
He always changed to his red petticoat before 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 tired I 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.
The beautiful creature came closer. She held out her hand and smiled. Her hand was snow-white. Her smile was a sunbeam, with a dimple in it.
"Do not be afraid," said her clear, sweet voice. "You called the fairies, son of Shaun O'Day?"
John nodded, but could not speak. His mouth was dry.
"I have come at your command," she smiled. Then she led John out and looked at him for a long time. She was smiling kindly. At last she spoke.
"You are the son of Shaun O'Day. And I am the fairy Princess who once stole Shaun from the leprechaun. I used to hear his fine stories of Ireland. I loved to listen to him. He used to play with me in fairyland. Did he tell you?"
John looked into her sparkling brown eyes and said, "Sure, and he did. He told me about it all. And I did be wanting to go with the fairies, too."
She laughed a silvery laugh and put her arm about John. "And so you shall," she said. "Come with me. Let me show you to our fairy chariot."
She led him away. They walked for quite a while until they came to a dusty road. It was a road on which many donkey carts travel, but few automobiles.
She drew him to the side of a shining automobile. It was the most beautiful thing John had ever seen.
"Enter, Shaun," said the girl fairy.
John looked at her for just an instant with a question on his lips. She had called him Shaun. Why?
But she stopped his question and said, "We shall fly over the ground now. Hold on tight."
For the next hour, the boy John hardly breathed with excitement. He was being carried over the ground faster than ever he had gone in his life.
Trees and fields and pigs and donkeys flew by. Thatched cottages seemed to dart out at them and then disappear.
The girl fairy sat at the big wheel of the car and only smiled at him occasionally. She said never a word.
At last they drew up at the side of a lonely road. She stopped the flying car. She turned to him.
She said, "Now Shauneen, what do you want me to do for you?"
John took a deep breath and clutched the side of the car.
Then he answered slowly, "Faith! I'm after longing to visit fairyland."
The girl fairy's smile vanished for a moment. Then she took his hand in hers and spoke seriously.
"Shauneen," she said, "I cannot take you there. But I can show you a land as beautiful as fairyland. I can take you all about your own land, Ireland. Do you know that the poets have called Ireland fairyland? Do you know that there is no greener spot on earth?"
John's eyes glowed.
He answered, "Indeed, I do know it. And I'm forever seeing the pictures in the school books. Sure, I do believe I'd rather be seeing Ireland than any fairyland at all!"
"Good!" laughed the girl fairy. Then she grew serious again as she said, "But Shauneen, you must promise your fairy that you will not speak of this to anyone at all. You must also ask your father to come to the shore of the lake to-morrow morning while you are at school. Tell him that there is some one who would speak with him on a serious matter. But do not say any more. If you obey these two commands, your fairy will come again. She will come for you on the shores of the lake. She will take you to all parts of your own beautiful country."
John promised to carry out her wishes. Again they flew over the ground until at last they were back at the spot whence they had started.
Then John stepped out of the glistening automobile. The girl fairy threw him a kiss and was off in a cloud of dust.
CHAPTER VIII
OVER THE GREEN LAND
Above is so blue
And below is so green;
We are sailing away
In our flying machine.
John was in school. But his mind was not on his lessons. For the first time, the letters in his book swam before his eyes. The teacher's voice seemed far away.
He was thinking of the girl fairy and of his coming trip with her. She had told him to say nothing, and he must obey her. But he could not help thinking about her. Surely she was good and would let no harm befall him.
His father had told him that the Good People were kind and loved little boys. So he smiled and paid no attention to his school work.
The teacher set him in a corner with a dunce's cap on his head.
In the meantime, John's father was walking to the shore of the lake. He wondered who wanted to see him. John had told him that it was an important matter.
He scratched his red head and puzzled. He waited on the banks of the lake until he heard a light step behind him.
He turned and saw John's girl fairy. She walked over to him silently. He jumped up and looked at her. Shaun thought he had never seen so exquisite a being. She spoke.
"You are Shaun O'Day," she said softly. She held out something and continued, "Please take this."
Shaun took from her graceful white hand a slip of paper. She kept looking into his eyes.
"Read it, Shaun," she said.
Shaun opened the paper. His eyes fell on his own boyish handwriting and a shamrock pasted across the top of the letter.
"Faith, 'tis a letter I wrote, myself, when I was a lad!" he exclaimed.
The girl fairy only smiled and kept looking into Shaun's eyes.
"Begob!" he suddenly shouted, looking hard at the girl fairy. "'Tis Miss Marjorie, the baby Princess!"
"Yes, Shaun," answered Marjorie happily. "'Tis Marjorie come all the way from fairyland to see you."
Then the two sat down on the bank. Shaun took off his coat and spread it on the ground for the girl to sit upon. They talked and laughed and remembered old times together.
Suddenly Marjorie grew serious and said, "Shaun, I have seen your son!"
Shaun looked surprised.
Marjorie continued, "Shaun, I want you to help me. I want to give a great pleasure to your little John."
Then she told Shaun how John had seen her the previous day. She told how John had believed her to be a fairy. She told Shaun that she had promised to take the little lad on a trip through Ireland.
She finished by saying, "I want to make him happy, Shaun, as you made me, long ago. Will you say that I may take him?"
Shaun's eyes were moist. He felt very grateful to the girl.
He replied in a low voice, "Och, Miss Marjorie, you are indeed no fairy, but a great good angel!"
Marjorie jumped up gayly and cried, "Then you will let him go with me, Shaun?"
"And sure you know well I will, Miss Marjorie. 'Tis a great good you will be doing for my lad. It is surely," he said.
Marjorie looked very serious then. And she bowed her head.
Her words were whispers as she said, "If it is a great good, then it is the first great good I have ever done. I have been very selfish, Shaun. Everyone has always done for me. This is the first time I have ever done something to give some one else pleasure. And, oh," she suddenly clasped her hands together and smiled radiantly, "it is a wonderful feeling! It has made me happy, Shaun."
She kissed his rough brown hand and turned on her dainty heel. She fled before Shaun could utter a sound.
"Well, begob, begorra!" he at last sputtered, scratching his head and wrinkling his nose. "Now isn't it a great wonder?"
Then, as if some breeze had contradicted him, he nodded his head and said loudly, "It is surely!"
It was several days before Marjorie's next visit to the lake.
Although the little boy John went thither daily and waited longingly, no girl fairy appeared. But he never doubted that she would come. He knew she would keep her promise. And she did.
At last, one day, she came tripping over the ground, laughing and calling, "Shauneen, Shauneen, 'tis I!"
John trembled. But he smiled at her and held out his hand.
To-day she was not dressed in fluttering, light-colored garments. Instead, she had on a brown leather coat. She wore a little round cap.
She carried a small coat, which she held out to John.
"Put this on quickly and come, for our air chariot awaits us," she exclaimed, helping John put on the fine warm coat.
Again they walked to the shining white automobile, and then they drove and drove. At last they came to a large field. It was an air port, a place where airplanes land.
The girl stopped her car. John saw a winged machine standing in the center of the field. It was a strange, terrible thing to the boy John.
"Come," said Marjorie, taking him by the hand. "It is our airplane. We shall fly over the green land together!"
An airplane! John had seen airplanes before, but never like this. He had seen them circling far up in the sky.
He could often hear the whirring sound they made. They usually were so high that they looked to the lad like small birds.
But this one was a monster. There was a pilot ready to start the plane and carry them off. They stepped inside the monster. John sat beside Marjorie, and she held his hand. He edged up close to her.
The plane's motor started. They began to rise from the ground. Oh, it was like being a bird, John thought. It was even like being a fairy.
He stole a glance at the girl fairy. She was beaming at him.
"Do you like this, Shauneen?" she asked.
"Faith, 'tis surely a great wonder! And you the good angel!" breathed the boy.
Marjorie remembered Shaun had said those same words to her. She felt happier than she had felt ever before in her life.
It was a trip that John O'Day never would forget. John would remember that trip to his ninetieth birthday.
They flew in the plane to the city of Dublin. They stopped at a fine hotel, and the girl fairy gave John a handsome little traveling bag with everything in it that he needed.
There were soft, fine pajamas. There was a new suit of clothes. There was a cap to match his coat, with fine socks and shoes.
They started out early the next morning to see all of Dublin town. A great city it seemed to John, with its strange noises and its jostling mobs on the streets.
In the center of O'Connell Street stands Nelson's Pillar. It is a thin, tall pillar. Inside there are one hundred and sixty-six steps which wind right up to the top. John and Marjorie walked up to the top and stood looking down on the streets below.
John noticed later when they walked in the streets that some of the signs were written in Irish.
John was just learning to read Irish in school. So he could read some of the signs.
School children have to study the Irish language in that part of Ireland called the Free State. The Free State is free from Great Britain and has its own government. It is the southern part of the country, and Dublin is the capital.
The northern part of Ireland is still under the government of England. The County Galway, wherein John's village stood, belongs to the Free State.
Policemen on the streets of Dublin wear caps with silver harps on their visors. You know that the harp is the symbol of Ireland, and it is used on the new flag of the Irish Free State.
