His contempt changed to commiseration. I might have been Brian Boru, the gray swan, the way he looked at me.
“The right way of endin’ is with a beginnin’—the beginnin’ o’ something bigger an’ betther an’ sweeter. ’Tis like ye were takin’ a friend with ye up a high hill—showin’ him all the pretty things along the way. Then just afore ye get to the top—an’ afore ye can look over an’ see what’s waitin’ beyond—ye leave him, sayin’, ‘Go ye alone an’ find whatever ye are most wishin’ for.’”
He stopped, pushed his hat back and pulled his forelock as if for more inspiration. “Do ye see? Just be leavin’ it to folk the world over. They can read in a betther endin’ than ye can be writin’ in in a hundthred years. An’ let Leerie be as I’m tellin’ ye—wi’ the road windin’ over the hill an’ out o’ sight. Sure the two of us know what she’ll be findin’ there; an’ do ye think the readers have less sense than what we have?”
THE END
Transcriber’s Notes:
Images have been moved from the middle of a paragraph to a nearby paragraph break.
The text in the list of illustrations is presented as in the original text, but the links navigate to the page number closest to the illustration’s loaction in this document.