The Ogham writing is older than the oldest writing in Ireland, and a laugh went up again to hear Kathleen’s letters likened to it.
Kathleen laughed, too, and looked at the “B. A.” innocently enough, as she replied, “It means ‘begin again.’ Isn’t that what you write when you forget something and say it afterwards?”
“It will do,” said Tara, patting her on the head, while Connie asked, “And what did the teacher say to your paper?”
“She said it would do, better than some papers that wouldn’t do so well,” answered the little girl, and wondered why the laughing began again.
Aunt Hannah smiled at her across the table. “Sure, ’tis ‘B. A.’ with the fun and laughter at Malone’s most of the time. Don’t mind them, mavourneen,” she said to the little girl, and then she told the children how she had learned the names of Ireland’s thirty-two counties when she was a child.
“The children marched round and round the school-room,” she said, “saying it like a poem, and all in concert. It began, ‘Cork and Kerry, Londonderry,’ and went on through the whole thirty-two names. And when any one forgot a name he had to drop out and take his seat.”
After the supper was over and she went into the den for a cosy chat with Uncle Tom, she said, “Sure, ’tis a great pity that Jerry couldn’t be here to see how well both Danny and Kathleen are doing.”
“They’re fine children,” agreed Uncle Tom. “Kathleen will be great at the learning some day, if she keeps on. Perhaps she’ll turn out a teacher, as her father Jerry was meant to be.”
“They’re all fine children,” murmured Aunt Hannah, listening to the happy voices around the piano as they began singing one of their favorite songs; and she rose and followed Uncle Tom to the other room, where they all sang together, “The Day When the Green Flag Flies.”