Patsy nodded. “But don’t those who take to the road fetch that castle along with them? Sure, there it is”—and her hand swept toward the skyline an encompassing circle about them—“with the sun flooding it from dawn to day’s end.” She turned to the eager faces about her, waiting for more. “Are ye still there? Faith! what have I been hearing this half-hour but hungry childther being called for tea. ’Twas ‘Joseph’ from the house across the way, and ‘Rebecca’ from off yonder, and ‘Susie May’ from somewhere else. Away with yez all to your mothers!” And Patsy scattered them as if they had been a flock of young sheep, scampering helter-skelter in all directions.
But one there was who lagged behind, a little boy with an old, old face, who watched the others go and then crept closer, held by the spell of the tale. He pulled at Patsy’s sleeve to gain attention. “I’m—I’m Joseph. Was it true—most of it?”
She nodded a reply as solemn as his question, “Aye, as true as youth and the world itself.”
“And would it come true for another boy—any boy—who went a-tramping off like that? Would he find—whatever he was wishin’ for?” And even as he spoke his eyes left hers and went searching for the far-away hills—and what might lie beyond.
“Come here, little lad.” Patsy drew him to her and put two steadying hands on his shoulders. She knew that he, too, had heard the call of the road and the longing to be gone—to be one with it, journeying to meet the mysterious unknown—was upon him. “Hearken to me: ’Tis only safe for a little lad to be going when he has three things to fetch with him—the wish to find something worth the bringing home, the knowledge of what makes good company along the way, and trust in himself. When ye are sure of these, go; but ye’ll no longer be a little lad, I’m thinking. And remember first to get the mother’s blessing and ‘God-speed,’ same as Jack; a lad’s journey ends nowhere that begins without that.”
He went without a word, but content; and his eyes brimmed with visions.
Patsy watched him tenderly. “Who knows—he may find greatness on his road. Who knows?”
The tinker dropped the bundle he had brought back from the store into her lap, but she scarcely heeded him. Her eyes were looking out into the gathering dusk while her voice sank almost to a whisper.
“Ochone! but I’ve always envied that piper fellow from Hamelin town. Think of being able to gather up all the childther hereabouts, eager, hungry-hearted childther with mothers too busy or deaf to heed them, and leading them away to find their fortunes! Wouldn’t that be wonderful, just?”
“What kind of fortunes?” asked the tinker.