LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IX, Issue 1249, 8 March 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

SEEING A GHOST. Continued, Dan sat down again, and I tried the whoel; and then we began to talk of going away over to America. ' It's a wi'd tramp, any way,' says Peggy Dooian._ 'Peter has had 'uck, but that's not saying that every one will have the same, and aorra a worse wish I have for Dan more than he'll came back to us before the year's out, contented to take what comes among the people he was born with.' ' It is kind of you, Mrs Doolan,' says Dm, ' to say you will miss me when I'm gone. It's only adding another good turn to the many you've done me. Hut, if there was nothing else to spur me on, the wish I have to return a little of all the kindness that has been shown to me, an orphan lad, would do it. In America, as I hear, there's a chance for all to dwell and get rich, straight as the wind that Jills the sails in taking us to the new country.' ' Never fear, Dan,' said old Peter, ' there's a chance for you, and a one, too. And Mrs Doolan will be the first to call you a sharp-sighted lad for seeing it when you bring her back some of the gold you'll make.'

_ With that I got up and wished them good night; and reminded Dau that he was to see me home.

'That I will,' says Dan in his ready way. And we went aloDg mighty sociable. ' Will ye wait here a bit, Dan, while I ask after poor Norah ?' says I, as we came up to Kitty's door. ' Is she ailing?' he asked, quite startled. ' She got a turn on Halloween, that left her but poorly. Her mother feared she might be taking the fever.' He seemed staggered. ' I'll stop outside, Biddy.' nays he, ' for I'd be sorry to disturb Tim Connor. I suppose he is with her.'

I lost all patience at this, and I a*ked him whether he was a fool. « Y"U are searching fur briars, Dau O'Brien, when there's roses afore ye: Is Tim Connor going to America, that Norah should grieve Tor him? You're not worth a t.iar ; and, if I were Norah, sorra a one I'd shed for ye, ye wrong-headed The poor fellow caught me by the hand ' Tg it truth you are speaking, Biddy ? —and does Norah think of me?' says he, in a breathless kind of way as if his throat had a lump in it. ' Bless you for this night's work —for you have made a miserable man happy,' ' Will ye come in with me, Dan ?'

He didn't answer, but followed me like a daft, for I never saw one so upset with hope. When I opeued the door the fire was low, and I thought the kitohen was empty ; but when the blaze shot up, I saw Norah sitting in a corner, her head on her hands Dan stood in the shadow of the door, and she only saw me aa I went forward.

'l'm glad of the sight of you, Aunt Biddy,' says she. 'My mother and Susey are gone over to the Maloneys with their work, and I'm aitting idle here, for the thirl of the wheel makes my head ache.' 'I heard you were poorly,' says I. ' Has Tim Connor been dancing with Biddy Rowland, and are ye jealous of them 1 ' 'Oh, Aunt Biddy,' she gasps, 'if you speak of Tim Connor you'll break my heart. That's nearly broken already. But for my foolishness on All Halloween, it would not be aching as it is.' I don't think she meant to say so much, for she looked confused after the words si';> ped out. Well, I just, pushed Dan forward and stole out myseif ; and as I shut the door I heard her starled cry that had more of joy than fright in it, and saw him on his knees beside her stool with his arm abi;ut hor waist, so I knew I had reason to be satisfied, and went home feeling easy. ' Is Dan O'Brien going to America, or not, Susey ?' I asked the next morning, when Susan came over to see my mother. ' Yes, he is going,' she said; ' and mother and Norah are in a great way entirely. He was waiting to speak to my mother, when he got home from the Maloneys' house last night. He wants Norah to wait for him for two years, and if he is not able to do well for her by that time, it will be because his health and strength has failed him.' ' And will she wait, Susey ?' 'v< ill she wait '! Why. Aunt Biddy, she is clean daft about him. She has scarcely touched her wheel this week past; but it's flying round to-day, and she's been singing like a lark, ever since she rose this morning.' My htart was light for Norah's pake, for I never doubted Dan would do well. He had the spirit of it in him, and he had good sense and health, and strength to back him in it In a fortnight's tithe he was to start with his Uncle Peter for Liverpool ; and he was as hopeful over it as any one that ever drew breath.

When the day came I went to Kitty's to bid bim good-bye. We all stood in the kitchen togeth r. Kitty was ohargng him about tak'ng care of himself; Susey was joking about the elegant dress she was to have as bridesmaid ; Koran only was quiet and pale. But she brightened up and looked hopeful whenever he spoke to her.

' Here's the jaunting car, Dan, with your uncle aud Larry Doolan,' says I, looking out.

'Keep up your heart, Norah da'ling,' whispered Kitty to the poor little tiling, leaning white and cold against the old dresser, And then she put her arms around Dan's neck. ' \'e were always a son to me,' she says ; ' and whether ye bring an empty purse or a full one, if ye come back with the same heart and character yc go with, I'll think you rich, my boy.' 'Good luck to you, Dan, and a speedy return,' says Susy ; and when he v. line to me I couldn't speak to him, for 1 waß choking with tears.

'The blessing of Heaven light on you, Biddy,' say a he. ' You brought us together, and I'll never forget that. 1 leave her in your care,' he whispered in my ear. ' It's the greatest trust I can put in a living creature.' 1 was afraid Fora would be overcome with the parting ; but she bore up bravely. She stood white and trembling, out she neither cried nor fainfed. And Dan, the tine fellow, have a blessing for us all, got into the jaunting car, and went away as full of hope as a spring morning. But about the ghost,? yejask V FSure and I am coming to it in the end, young ladies; but ye must just have patience. It was poor Dan's ghost that Nora saw—l tell ye that much.

The next year was a wonderful one for changes. First, my father came home one night after a fair day, and took to his bed, never to rise from it again. It was near rent day, and he had gone to sell a cow to help to make out what was wanting; but he met with friends, and when he came the length of home there was little left of the price of the cow. Afl;er poor father was gone we couldn't keep the place, so mother agreed to go with me and make our home with Kitty, who had plenty of room ; and the rest went out into the world.

Tt was a hard year, and terrible scraping people had to make it oat at all. In the beginning of May Kitty Was down with a plow fever, and before June came we had laid her beside my father, wis ill when her mother died, and Nnrah to">k the fever next Those were the dark days, when we watched the two poor young things lying side by side with their minds wandering : sometimes over old sports and games they'd had ; sometimes calling on their poor mother, so lately laid in the cold churchyard. I thank Heaven that there's, an. end to all things, and there came an en,d to that black time. Susan ross up,, weakly at first, but gaining strength every day. wavered a long time, and then began to mend slowly. Sjie Avould be where the sun fell on her, with Dan's letters clasped to her bosom, and never spoke for a whole day together. Myself couldn't write a word to him, not being handy at the pen, to let him know what had happened; and Norah said she was glad he didn't kno\\,' it. 'No news is good news* Aunt she would say. 'He would be only fretting himself with thiaking it oyer.' s To tie continued,}