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Manners, J. Hartley, 1870-1928

"Peg O' My Heart"

It's me love for me father has kept
faith and hope alive in me heart. I was happy with him. I never
wanted to lave him. Now I see there is another happiness, too an'
it's beyond me. I'm no one's equal. I'm just a little Irish nothin'-
-"
"Don't say that," Jerry interrupted. "There's an obstinate bad
something in me that holds me back every time I want to go forward.
Sometimes the good little somethin' tries so hard to win, but the
bad bates it. It just bates it, it does."
"What you call the bad is the cry of youth that resents being
curbed: and the GOOD is the WOMAN in you struggling for an outlet,"
explained Jerry.
"Will you help me to give it an outlet, Mr. Jerry?"
"In any way in my power, Peg."
As they stood looking at each other the momentary something was
trembling on both their lips and beating in both of their hearts.
The something--old as time, yet new as birth--that great transmuter
of affection into love, of hope into faith. It had come to them--yet
neither dared speak.
Peg read his silence wrongly. She blushed to the roots of her hair
and her heart beat fast with shame. She laughed a deliberately
misleading laugh and, looking up roguishly at him, said, her eyes
dancing with apparent mischief, though the tear lurked behind the
lid:
"Thank ye for promisin' to help me, Misther Jerry.


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