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A leap of lightning swiftness put a form between my eyes and the dying day; the flash of a knife Jean Le Claire's short sharp knife glittered here; my bonds were cut in a twinkling; O'mie, red-headed Irish O'mie, lifted me to my feet, and I was free. The women have no voice to speak, but none can check your pen Turn for a moment from your strife and plead their cause, O men!
And yet I know past all doubting truly, A knowledge greater than grief can dim, I know as he loved, he will love me duly, Yea, better, e'en better, than I love him. While O'mie and Lettie were acting out their little drama in the store that afternoon, Judson was up in Mrs. Whately's parlor driving home matters of business with a hasty and masterful hand.
He called to me almost in a whisper. 'Don't hurry a bit, Marjie, he said; 'I'm taking your cloak home. But I couldn't find it anywhere about the door. O'mie is always doing the oddest things!" Just then the church bell began to ring, and together we put on the lights and joined in the song. Its inspiration drove everything before it.
Father Le Claire held himself neutral to the North and the South, and was sometimes distrusted by both factions in our town; but he went serenely on his way, biding his time patiently. At sunrise on the morning after O'mie had surprised Jean Pahusca with Marjie's wreath of faded blossoms held caressingly in his brown hands, Le Claire met him in the little chapel.
O'mie would always grin at this saying and reply that, "by the nixt day noon follerin' that, the rascally gover'mint at Washin'ton would come along an' kick him out into the rid san', claimin' that that particular oasis was an Injun riservation, specially craayted by Providence fur the dirthy Osages, the bastes!" O'mie hated the Indians, but he was a friend to all the rest of mankind.
You are a contemptible spy, and you're the biggest rascal in this town. That's what you are." "Not by the steelyards, I ain't," O'mie replied. Passing from behind the counter and courteously offering her a chair. Then jumping upon the counter beside her he sat swinging his heels against it, fingering the yard-stick beside the pile of calicoes. "Not by the steelyards, I ain't the biggest.
On the second evening of this miserable gloom I strolled down to the tavern stables to find O'mie. Bud and John Anderson and both the Mead boys were there, sprawled out on the hay. O'mie sat on a keg in the wagon way, and they were all discussing affairs of State like sages. I joined in and we fought the Civil War to a finish in half an hour.
It was a cheap kind of fury, a flimsy bit of drama, but tragedies have grown out of even a lesser degree of unbridled temper. O'mie was a monkey to whom the ludicrous side of life forever appealed, and the sight of Lettie as an accusing vengeance was too much for him. The twinkle in his eye only angered her the more. "Oh, you needn't laugh, you and Marjie Whately.
My two months beyond the soft, sheltered life of home had taught me much; and then I was young and thought I knew much, anyhow. "What are you going to do, Phil?" O'mie asked. "I? I'm going to stay by this thing for a while. The Baronets were always military folks.
Father Le Claire had another favorite in Springvale, and that was O'mie. He said little to the Irish orphan lad, but there sprang up a sort of understanding between the two. Whenever he was in town, O'mie was not far away from him; and the boy, frank and confidential in everything else, grew strangely silent when we talked of the priest. I spoke of this to my father one day.
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