"'Tis said that in great cities in the New World such things do be," said one.
But Eileen was happy. No matter where Shaun was, she knew that he was well. She knew that he thought of her and that they would meet again some day.
Letters came often after that. In each one were tales of great wonder. Even the most doubtful of the villagers had to admit that the boy was with the fairies.
He told of strange people, of amusements, of towers touching the sky, and of sights that dazzled his eyes.
Shaun had traveled all the way to a big American city. A bright, strong lad was he.
He could always find ways of working himself along. On ships and trains, in motors, and upon his two feet he traveled.
When he arrived in the strange city across the sea, he sold papers on the streets.
His clear Irish voice rang out with its brogue. Many persons smiled as they listened to the fresh young voice of Shaun O'Day from Connemara.
But one man stopped and spoke to the lad. He, too, was an Irishman. He spoke kindly to Shaun.