The next Sunday all the McQueen family went to Mass and Mrs McQueen
wore her new shawl. The chapel was quite a distance away, and as they
walked and all the neighbours walked, too, they had a pleasant time
talking together along the way.
Dennis and the Twins walked together, and Larry and Eileen told Dennis
all about the Fair, and about selling the pig to the Lady Kathleen, and
"Begorra," said Dennis, "but that little pig was after bringing you all
the luck in the world, wasn't she?" All the other boys and girls wanted
to hear about it. Most of them had never been to a Fair. So Eileen and
Larry talked all the way to church, and that was two miles and a half of
talk, the shortest way you could go.
Just as they neared the church, what should they see but Grannie Malone,
coming in grandeur, riding on a jaunting-car! Beside her was a big man
with a tall hat on his head.
"'Tis her son Michael, back from the States!" cried the Twins. "He said
in a letter he was coming."
They ran as fast as they could to reach the church door in time to see
them go in. Everybody else stopped, too, they were so surprised, and
everybody said to everybody else, "Well, for dear's sake, if that's not
Michael Malone come back to see his old Mother!"
And then they whispered among themselves, "Look at the grand clothes on
him, and the scarf pin the bigness of a ha'penny piece, and the hat!
Sure, America must be the rich place entirely."
And when Michael got out of the cart and helped out his old Mother,
there were many hands held out for him to shake, and many old neighbours
for him to greet.
"This is a proud day for you, Grannie Malone," said Mrs McQueen.
"It is," said Grannie, "and a sad day, too, for he's after taking me
back to America, and 'tis likely I'll never set my two eyes on old
Ireland again, when once the width of the sea comes between us."
She wiped her eyes as she spoke. Then the bell rang to call the people
into the chapel. It was little the congregation heard of the service
that day, for however much they tried they couldn't help looking at the
back of Michael's head and at Grannie's bonnet.
And afterward, when all the people were outside the church door, Grannie
Malone said to different old friends of Michael, "Come along to my house
this afternoon, and listen to Himself telling about the States!"
That afternoon when the McQueens had finished their noon meal, the whole
family walked up the road to Grannie's house. There were a good many
people there before them. Grannie's little house was full to the door.
Michael stood by the fireplace, and as the McQueens came in he was
saying, "It's the truth I'm telling you! There are over forty States in
the Union, and many of them bigger than the whole of Ireland itself!
There are places in it where you could travel as far as from Dublin to
Belfast without ever seeing a town at all; just fields without stones or
trees lying there begging for the plough, and sorrow a person to give it
them!"
"Will you listen to that now?" said Grannie.
"And more than that, if you'll believe me," Michael went on, "there do
be places in America where they _give away_ land, let alone buying it!
Just by going and living on it for a time and doing a little work on it,
you can get one hundred and sixty acres of land, for your own, mind
you!"
"The Saints preserve us, but that might be like Heaven itself, if I may
make bold to say so," said Mrs Maguire.
"You may well say that, Mrs Maguire," Michael answered, "for there,
when a man has bent his back, and put in sweat and labour to enrich the
land, it is not for some one else he does it, but for himself and his
children. Of course, the land that is given away is far from big
cities, and it's queer and lonely sometimes on the distant farms, for
they do not live in villages, as we do, but each farmhouse is by itself
on its own land, and no neighbours handy. So for myself, I stayed in
the big city."
"You seem to have prospered, Michael," said Mr McQueen.
"I have so," Michael answered. "There are jobs in plenty for the
willing hands. Sure, no Irishman would give up at all when there's
always something new to try. And there's always somebody from the old
sod there to help you if the luck turns on you. Do you remember Patrick
Doran, now? He lived forninst the blacksmith shop years ago. Well,
Patrick is a great man. He's a man of fortune, and a good friend to
myself. One year when times were hard, and work not so plenty, I lost
my job, and didn't Patrick help me to another the very next week? Not
long after that Patrick ran for Alderman, and myself and many another
like me, worked hard for to get him elected, and since then I've been in
politics myself. First Patrick got me a job on the police force, and
then I was Captain, and since then, by one change and another, if I do
say it, I'm an Alderman myself!"
"It's wonderful, sure," Mr Maguire said, when Michael had finished,
"but I'm not wishful for to change. Sure, old Ireland is good enough
for me, and I'd not be missing the larks singing in the spring in the
green fields of Erin, and the smell of the peat on the hearth in winter.
It's queer and lonesome I'd be without these things, and that's the
truth."
He threw his head back and began to sing. Everybody joined in and sang,
too. This is the song they sang:--
"Old Ireland you're my jewel sure,
My heart's delight and glory,
Till Time shall pass his empty glass
Your name shall live in story.
"And this shall be the song for me,
The first my heart was learning,
When first my tongue its accents flung,
Old Ireland, you're my darling!
"From Dublin Bay to Cork's Sweet Cove,
Old Ireland, you're my darling
My darling, my darling,
From Dublin Bay to Cork's Sweet Cove;
Old Ireland, you're my darling."