File:Herself-Ireland (1918) (14782941105).jpg

Identifier: herselfireland01ocon (find matches)
Title: Herself--Ireland
Year: 1918 (1910s)
Authors: O'Connor, T. P., Mrs., d. 1931
Subjects:
Publisher: New York, Dodd, Mead and company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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utumn and early in thespring. In front of the house is a wide opensweep of lawn, which invites every ray of sun-shine and ensures a cheerful distance between thesplendid trees and woods which surround the place.It was a fragrant, lovely, midsummer moon-light night, and after dinner we sat on the porch.The lawn had been mown, and there was a scent ofsweet vernal in the air from a small haystack notfar away. From it apparently proceeded a long,gentle whistling, not unmusical, snore. Nita saidshe thought a drunken tramp had gone to sleepunder the fresh straw, and she must go down to the lodge and get Murphy to rouse him up andpersuade him away. I assured her it was only acow with adenoids, but that theory was unsatis-factory, and finally we both tip-toed gently over to the haystack, circled around it, and there wasneither man nor beast to be seen. The soundceased, and only recommenced when we were inour bedrooms. After dinner the next evening thesame whistling snore began again, and Philip
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«O O EVERGREEN FRIENDSHIP 357 Barry, who was dining with us, said it was anowl and proved it by going to an old oak tree atthe right of the haystack and rousing up a bighorned owl, who uttered a sharp protesting note atbeing disturbed from his whisthng slumbers andflew away. I looked in vain for the most cheerful ghost inall the ghost world— The Radiant Boy —who,clothed in dark blue, is bright with stars and sitson an old iron gate on the Mallow Road, threaten-ing to throw a brilliant missile at the passer-by.He was not always an open-air ghost, for abouta hundred years ago, which is no time at all inIreland, Captain Stuart came to Fort Lewis, nowcalled Wilkinsons Lawn, and having lost hisway craved the hospitality of Colonel Wilkinsonfor the night, who made him welcome, but, as hishouse was overflowing with guests, gave him aroom which was rarely used. A bright fire oflogs blazed on the hearth and a good mattress andclean bedclothes had been placed not far from it.Tired from the

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