“Faith, John Hever will do the eating while we take care of the blarney,” replied her husband, laughing at the boy’s first mouthful.
“Tell us about Donegal,” Hannah Kelley said to Kathleen.
“There’s nothing to tell,” replied Kathleen. “There are just purple mountains and rocky hills and bogs, and Mary Ellen and I had no one to play with at all.”
“You should see the great cliffs over at Horn Head,” said Danny proudly. “That’s something to tell about! When there has been a storm, the waves pound against them and the spray dashes up so that it is a grand sight.”
“I’m thinking it was up there that the giant used to step from cliff to cliff when he was walking round the island to be sure everything was all right for the night,” said Bee, who seemed to know stories of all the giants and fairies.
John Hever looked down at his own short legs with a sigh. “Sure, he must have been a big giant,” he said, “to walk around all Ireland every night of his life.”
“That he was,” replied Patrick with a laugh. “Were you thinking you’d catch up with him on his next round?”
“I was not,” answered John, “but I’ll soon be beating you in a race to Dublin town.”
“It’s ten years and more since I played that game with fifty other boys and girls; and that, too, around the policeman’s legs in the streets of Cork!” exclaimed Patrick. “But come on then, and we’ll see how it seems to go doubling among these tree-trunks.”
He seized Bee’s hand and they began singing “How many miles to Dublin Town?” just as Kathleen and Mary Ellen had sung it so often in far Donegal. But now there were many to join in the game, and one after another the children caught hold of hands and ran in and out among the trees, singing and shouting.