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Page 25
Ward C became instantly silent--hopefully expectant; Bridget had led
them into pleasant places too often for them not to believe in her
implicitly and do what she said.
"May Eve," began Bridget, slowly, "is the night o' the year when the
faeries come throopin' out o' the ground to fly about on twigs o' thorn
an' dance to the music o' the faery pipers. They're all dthressed in
wee green jackets an' caps, an' 'tis grand luck to any that sees them.
And all the wishes good childher make on May Eve are sure to come
thrue." She stopped a moment. "Let's make believe; let's make
believe--" Her eyes fell on the primroses, and for the first time she
recognized them. "Holy Saint Bridget! them's faery primroses!"
Ward C was properly impressed. Eight little figures sat up as straight
as they could; eight pairs of eager eyes followed Bridget's pointing
finger and gazed in speechless wonder at the green Devonshire bowl.
"Do ye think, Sandy, that ye could scrooch out o' bed an' hump yerself
over to them? If Pether tries he's sure to tumble over, an' some one
might hear."
Sandy looked at the flowers without enthusiasm. "Phat are ye wantin'
wi' 'em?"
"I'll tell ye when ye get there. Just thry; ye'll be yondther afore ye
know it."
Cautiously Sandy rolled over on his stomach and pushed two shrunken
little legs out from the covers. Putting them gingerly to the floor,
he stood up, holding fast to the bed; then working his way from bed to
bed, he reached the table at last, spurred on by Bridget's irresistible
blarney:
"Sure ye're walkin' grand, Sandy. I never saw any one puttin' one leg
past another smarther than what ye are. Ye'd fetch up to Aberdeen i'
no time if ye kept on at the pace ye are goin'."
Pride lies above pain; and Sandy held his head very high as he steadied
himself by the table and looked toward Bridget for further orders.
[Illustration: Sandy held his head very high as he steadied himself by
the table and looked toward Bridget for further orders.]
"Phat wull a do the noo?" he asked.
In the excitement Bridget had pulled herself to the foot of the cot;
and there, eyes shining and cheeks growing pinker and pinker, she held
her breath while the pleasantest thought of all shaped itself somewhere
under the shock of red curls.
"Ye could never guess in a hundthred years what I was thinkin' this
minute," she burst forth, ecstatically.
Eight mouths opened wide in anticipated wonder; but no one thought of
guessing.
"I'm thinkin'--I'm thinkin' we could make a primrose ring the night.
Is there any knowledgeable one among ye that knows aught of a primrose
ring?"
Eight heads shook an emphatic negative.
"Aye, wasn't I sayin' so! Well, sure, a primrose ring is a faery ring;
an' any one that makes it an' steps inside, wishin' a wish, is like to
have anythin' at all happen them afore they steps out of it ag'in."
Eight breaths were drawn in and sighed out with the shivering delight
that always accompanies that feeling which lies between fear and
desire; likewise, eight delicious thrills zigzagged up eight cold
little spines. Then Bridget shook a commanding finger at Sandy.
"Ye take them flowers out o' the pot an' dthrop them, one by one, till
ye have the ground covered from the head of Pancho's bed to the tail o'
Michael's. 'Twon't make the whole of a ring, but if ye crook it out i'
the middle to the wall yondther, 'twill be like enough."
With a doubtful eye Sandy spanned the distance. "Na--na. Gien a
hustled a wud be a dee'd loonie afore a had 'em spilled."
"Aw, go on!" chorused the watchers.
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