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I'm as cool as a cucumber all the time; and whilst they tink I'm tinking of nothing in life but making a noise, I make my own snug little remarks in prose and verse, as now my voice is after coming back to me, you shall hear, if you plase. Talb. I do please. Rory. I call it Rory's song.
"A convent school, mind. None of your common boarding schools for a child like Mary" Rory's only reply was a glance of gratitude. My stern admonition would be a moral support to him in the coming controversy. "You mentioned some other literary work that you have on hand?" I remarked inquiringly. "Yis; A've jotted down a few idays. Now, Tammas where was the Garden of Aden supposed to be?"
One-half of Rory's purlin plate slipped from its splicing, the pin having been neglected in the furious haste, and swinging free, fell crashing through the timbers upon the scurrying, scrambling men below. On its way it swept off the middle bent Rory, who was madly entreating a laggard to drop to the earth, but who, flung by good fortune against a brace, clung there.
"I know," cried Teenie Ross, Rory's sister, with a little toss of her head, "Alec told me. She is the girl who has come to take the teacher's place for a month. She is the niece of Sheriff Hossie. Her father was a colonel in the Southern army, California or Virginia or some place, I don't just remember. Oh!
But whether it was the dancer could not hear this eloquent harangue, or, what is more probable, that he did not choose to attend to it, certain it is that it proved totally ineffectual to accomplish its object, and the consequence was that Donald Macgillivray found it equally his duty and his interest to return home to his family with the melancholy tale of poor Rory's fate.
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