Shaun O'Day of Ireland

CHAPTER X

BECAUSE HE IS IRISH

John O'Day walked slowly through the village. He walked through the village because he wanted all the boys to see his fine suit.

The fine suit was a bit torn and soiled from the fight he had had. Still John was proud of it.

He went home by way of the village. He did not go by way of the lake. As he walked down the village street, the people stared at him.

"And where are you going, John O'Day?" called one boy.

"Sure, I'm not going," answered the little lad. "I'm after coming back from where I was!"

He marched along. They all stood with staring eyes and watched him.

He came to the cottage of his parents, and when they saw him they were delighted.

Of course, John told his mother and father everything.

He tried to tell it all before he went to bed. But the evening was too short and his tale too long. He was fairly bursting with the great trip he had had.

He even had a tale of wonder for his wee sister. He held her on his knee while he told about the big zoo in Dublin.

"Sure, and there's every kind of animal there," he went on, his eyes flashing. "Sure, I was after seeing a terrible, big creature. 'Twas an elephant they called it. And 'tis a square animal with a tail in front of it and a tail behind it!"

"Glory be!" cried his mother.

Shaun smiled behind his pipe. The baby gurgled.

The older brother pretended that he was not very much interested. He was, though. He was greatly excited with John's tales.

Then his father said, "But, Johneen, you do not really believe that your guide was a fairy?"

"Sure, and the best one in all fairyland," answered John stoutly.

Shaun scratched his head thoughtfully.

"Och, Johneen," he said, "you do not believe that surely."

But John answered, "I do!"

Shaun then drew the boy over to his chair. He took John on his lap.

"Listen, son," he said.

He told the child the same thing that Marjorie had told him. He told John that Marjorie was really a girl from America.

But John replied as he had replied to Marjorie in the car. He said that there could not be a girl so lovely and kind as she. He insisted that Marjorie could only be a fairy!

Several days went by. John told everyone in the village about his trip. He talked of nothing else. He had gone to the lake day after day, but the girl fairy had never appeared.

He did not give up hope, however. He felt she would keep her promise and come again to see him.

Then one day little John received a package and a letter. In the package were several beautiful books. He asked his father to read the letter to him.

Shaun read:

"Dear Shauneen: To-morrow I am coming to the lake to say good-bye to you. Please be there. Marjorie."

Shaun folded the letter and gave it back to his son.

Then he said, "You see, she is an American girl. Her father and mother are going to take her back to America. They brought her over, and they also bought her that car. They arranged for her to take you on that fine trip. Don't you see now that she surely is not a fairy?"

But John did not answer. He shook his head stubbornly. Suddenly Shaun had an idea.

He said, "I must show you then." He put his two hands on the boy's shoulders and looked into his eyes. "To-morrow," he said, "when you go to meet her at the lake you must wear the red petticoat!"

John looked frightened.

He cried, "Och, father, she'll not be talking to me at all – and I in girl's clothes!"

Shaun said, "Sure, that is just what she will do. She'll know you well. She'll talk to you. Then you will believe at last that she is no fairy!"

The morning came. John dressed as usual in his red petticoat. He took the books that Marjorie had sent him and ran to the lake. He was there with the first birds. He was there with the sleepy sun.

The sleepy sun was just waking up. But John O'Day had been awake for many hours. He had been so very much awake with his thoughts.

He thought and thought about Marjorie. He wondered and wondered whether Marjorie would recognize him. If she should speak to him, he would know that she really was a girl. He would know that she was not a fairy.

If she passed him by, he would be sure that she was a real fairy. Oh, he felt so sure that she was a fairy!

But at the same time he wondered just a little bit why she tried to make him believe she was not. Was it because the Good People do not want folks to be talking about them?

Maybe it was that. They like to give happiness to people. But they do not want people knowing that it is they giving the happiness.

They do not ask thanks. They do not look for praise. The Good People are modest.

But soon John would know about his lovely friend. She would soon appear and look for him. If she passed him by, his heart would beat with joy. He would know then.

And he would call out to her, "It is I! It is your Shauneen! Do you not know me?"

Then she would stop and he would laugh at her and jolly her.

He would say, "You could not be fooling me, good fairy. Isn't it myself knows a fairy when I see one?"

He chuckled to himself. She should not be fooling John O'Day!

He opened one of the lovely books which Marjorie had sent him. He began to look at it. It was a beautiful book with colored pictures in it. It had grand pictures of cities in it.

There were pictures of Irish cities and French cities and American cities.

John grew so interested in looking at the pictures that he did not hear a step behind him. He did not see Marjorie standing behind him. She was smiling down at him as he sat all wrapped in joy and delight.

He was remembering his trip through the cities whose pictures he now looked at in a book. He was in Dublin again. He had jumped right into the book and was believing that he could hear the dull sounds of the city. He was believing that he could see the many people and cars and curious sights.

Marjorie watched him for a few moments. She knew John O'Day, though he wore a girl's petticoat. She had come to bid him good-bye, for she was leaving for her own country.

But she could not disturb him as he sat there. She could not disturb John O'Day while at his books. Nor could she disturb his dreams.

She knew well that if she spoke to him now, he would know that she was not a fairy. He had told her that "fairies do not be speaking to girls," and Marjorie could not disturb the little boy's beautiful dream of her.

So she scribbled a note and left it on a flat rock. The note told John that she had come and gone. It said that Marjorie was sorry she had not seen her Shauneen again. But she left him with his dream of her.

When John lifted his head and heart out of the pages of that grand book, he stood up and looked about. He saw the letter and opened it.

Of course he could not read it, but he found something else with the letter which he kissed. It was the picture of his girl fairy. She had left it there.

And now John O'Day knew that she had come and gone.

Thought he, "She did not know the little figure in the red petticoat was her friend Shauneen! No; she did not notice this little girl at all, at all. Fairies do not be speaking to little girls."

She had gone. But she had left behind her the picture of a girl fairy. She had left that picture on a flat rock.

And she had left it, too, in the Irish heart of John O'Day, who had the dreams of his country.

Marjorie will always remember the little boy. She will go back to America and always remember the boy who called her a good fairy. She will try really to be a good fairy because of that.

She will not think so much about herself any more. But she will try to give pleasure to others because of the pleasure she finds in doing it.

And as John O'Day grows older, perhaps he will find out the truth about Marjorie. But he will always be wanting to believe that she was a girl fairy, even if he finds that she was not.

He will always want to keep his dreams, because he is Irish.