"'TIS TH' WEARIN' 0' TH' GREEN."

Dominion, Volume 6, Issue 1700, 17 March 1913, Page 6

"'TIS TH' WEARIN' 0' TH' GREEN."

A STORY BY THE WAY. " £Br "Heee Hebe."] St. Patrick was a gentleman, 'Who, through 1 strategy andi stealth, Drove all tho snakes trom Ireland— Here's a bumper to his health. "'» - * * The car had barely come to a standstill at Oourtenay Place on tho journey inwards to the city when 1 the austere company in the front smoking, compartment was added to by a jovial-laced man, Who bounded in as if he were the projectilo from a cannon. A cursory glance only was needed to proclaim his heritage from Erin's Isle—his chubby, rosy countenance, with twinkling blue eyes,, the-cutty pipe, a piece of green ribbon peeping through his buttonhole, clinched by a broguish "A'rrah now," as he plumped into his seat. It was very evident .at first Sight that lie was one .of-Nature's Jighthearts, and that it was with very little difficulty the municipal electrically-decorated tramcar had caused the spirit' of. Carnival to enter his soul. To such as he tho advertising aims of that brightly varicoloured galleon of the tram track would fulfilled. Conversation had till this stopping-place been syllabilically fitful, but the newcomer soon set about to disperse the gloom of silence. Happiness was undoubtedly . the goal ho was fully bead on for, temporarily, if you will, but still for the time being he was seeking it. Aud to.be genuinely happy yourself, the philosophers say, is to see that others are happy.- A glum-faced man, in a greatcoat and muffled up as if he were in' training for Polar exploration, sat' immediately opposite the newcomer. After a moment's.beaming scrutiny, the latter leant forward as the tram wheels again resumed their revolutions, and tapped tho Nansen-liko person on the knee with his pipe. "And is it yersilf, Jim?' ho asked eager--13;,

The addressee's face emerged from the barricade of coat-collar, and the questioner looked a trifle disconcerted, but only momentarily. "Indade, and Oi tought 'twas Jim Danvers, you was—the schuleinaster up Dannyvirk way. You look like him, too, ?pon my sowl, you do, on'y I shud say as ilitn has more freckles about the nose. Not 'xactly purty-looking, Jim, but faix you might pass as his brother. Cur'us how alike some folks are—miles apart, too; aliby's, that's what tliev call 'em. Let me pay th' dainmidgc," he. requests, as the guard solos "Fares, please," to the compartment at large. "Oi've plenty of 'snow'"—scrambling among a handful of silver for a small coin—"and out back in the bush there's toimes when yu'd giv'. a rare dale to bo able to pay train fares for the blioys. Was over there the other night"—-jerking his thumb in the direction; of a lighted picture theatre—"secin' tli' luio Smz (.'anal picter. Foine, lie jabers, to see 'em blowin' the airth up." The man of (lie mythical icefields thawed sufficiently t<> suppose "that you don't reside in Wellington, then?" "Not a mother's sou uv'it," was tbo answer, "Me frinds axe all here, tho',

excep' those who ar're in t'other lblan'. -Niyer see nor hear lr'ni wan uv' them, divil a bit, fr'm-Jaii"ry to Decimber; but (,'iu'rally make me annooal call on 'cm about" St. l'atlirick's Day. Got a nepliy as atlinds th' Tachnical Sehule, an' he's goin' to w'l'ite me a few lines in futur', w'ich, Oi sez, ef 'tis on'y a few wurrds in shorlhan' 'twill du. .AVunnerfu' how they kape St. Pathrick's Day up, so it is," lie went on, taking up. a mure cherishedtheme. "Wan place Oi was in down undlier, w'y other days—St. George, an' Andra, and t'other wan"—("St. David's," murmured the wintry person)—"w'y tlicy liist winl past, unhonnercd, «o to spake, but on St. i'athrick's, w'y, the Scotch and all t'other furriners shut up their shops and wint to th' sporrts. 'Twos deloightful, so 'twas, to see th' Dean and t' Anglican parson a'sthrollin' thegither on the green smokin' their dhuileens. An' bliui'd foilio were th' nthylatics, and t' colleens danscd, an' t' ban' played' till sorra iver a thocht there was u'v' t'morrer an' wurrk. An' t' gra-and ball iv'ich follered. Ocli, fer those toinies ugin!" And ho fell to musing of those happy days of yore, crooning the while— They say there's bread and work for all, mid tlie sun shines always there, But I'll ne'er forget old Ireland ... A thought suddenly struck liim, and into his pockets he quickly delved, and produced a fistfull of papers, as the tram was pulling up, and the passenger in the great-coat rose to go. Pamphlets on the "Cost of Living" strewed the floor ere. ho of Erin's Isle extricated the object of his search. "Och, it's going ye ar're?" He looked up to catch sight of tho departing one. "Yes. Au revoir," cnine the response. "Thin, take- a luk at this"—and he passed out into the gloom a faded green dodger-favour. That impulsive generosity of his race was causing him to part for aye with a treasured memento and long-time companion, as he warmly called out his adieu, "And may your own coals always warm ye." For, surely, the coloured favour had heralded the doings in that country town of the "Grand Sports and Ball," in celebration of the memory of that Saint of whom the poet sings:— Then .success to St. Patrick's fi6t,

He tfas a saint so clever, He'gave the shakes , and toade a twist, And banished them for over..