Stories and Legends of Travel and History, for ChildrenGreenwood, Grace
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Stories and Legends of Travel and History, for Children
Greenwood, Grace
Great Britain -- Juvenile literature; Ireland -- Juvenile literature
"There, take back yer dirty treasure, and bad luck to you, you spalpeen
of a fairy, for decaying a Christian!"
He threw with such force, that he flung himself off the stone--_and
that woke him!_
Yes, the capture of the _Clericaune_, his wealth, his grand castle, and
all his trouble were _a dream_. He got up and looked about him, a
little bewildered at first, but soon recollected himself, and set out
for home, a wiser and happier man than when he entered the Dargle that
afternoon.
It was late and supper was waiting for him. His good wife smiled when
he came in, and put by her sewing; his sons and daughters had all come
from their work or school, and greeted him affectionately. As he sat
down with them to their simple evening meal of bread, milk, and
potatoes, they noticed that he said grace with unusual fervor, and then
looked round upon them all with tears in his eyes.
His home was as humble as ever--but somehow, it had grown beautiful to
him, for the sunshine of _contentment_ was over every thing. His wife
was as far from riding in her carriage, and his boys and girls from
being gentlemen and ladies, as ever; but he loved them and was proud of
them for their goodness and honesty, and he felt that God had done
better for them than he could do, with all the riches in the world.
Antrim--The Giant's Causeway.
THE POOR SCHOOLMASTER.
The county of Antrim is not only one of the most picturesque, but most
prosperous in all Ireland. It is also remarkable for being entirely
surrounded by water--by the ocean, Lough Neagh, and the rivers Bann and
Lagan. In this county vast quantities of flax are raised and
manufactured into linen---chiefly at Belfast, the handsomest and most
important commercial town in the north of Ireland.
Belfast is particularly dear to me as a place where I spent many
pleasant days, with some warm-hearted Irish friends, whose constant
kindness and affectionate care made me feel as though my long voyage
across the stormy sea was only a troubled dream, and that I was still
at home, surrounded by the dear ones I had loved and clung to always.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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