Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain. ’ ‘Melusine,’ shrieked the nun. " "So I've found out the way to move her," thought the carpenter; "those tears will do her some good, at all events. They were those of the Irish watchman. . ’ ‘That’s easy. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. I've told you about him; and you wrote a shrewd yarn on the subject. “Your little flag of pride must flutter down with the rest of them, Ann Veronica.
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