Of wide prevailing sadness.”
He expressed high hopes that Ireland’s darkest days are past. He believes all Irishmen in Ireland today, the Protestant in the North and the Catholic in the South, should blot out the unhappy memories of the past centuries, and forget the mistakes of former times, and face the future, united in honest efforts for Ireland’s welfare.
As we walked along, while he told me all this, we suddenly came upon Mike and Edith at the Giant’s Wishing Chair. This is a place where the columns of the Causeway are arranged something like a rude chair, and it is said if you sit in this “chair,” and wish, that your wish will come true. When we came on the scene Edith was sitting in the chair, wishing. Mike was standing by her side, evidently much amused.
“What’s your wish,” Mike asked, after we had joined them.
“I wished that I might fly tomorrow,” she answered with a blush. Then, walking up to her father she said:
“Oh, Papa, can I take a ride in the aeroplane with Mr. Connor tomorrow?”
I saw Mr. Neill glance quickly at her flushed face, and then turn away with a sigh. She was his only child.
“Why, why,” he answered, “what put such a notion as that in your head? Did you, sir?” and he looked accusingly at Mike.
“No, sir,” said Edith, before Mike could speak, “Mr. Connor never said a word to me about it.”
“We’ll see tomorrow,” said her father.