nown nothing of all this wonder-working; and when I charged him
solemnly with being chief organizer, builder, framer, and designer in
all this magic, he put me off gently:--

"You know we must educate the people, sir. And you know our people are
capable of anything."

I believed him.

Presently, there was a great stir at the end of the long room, and I
looked around cautiously; for we were all so grand, I felt I should be
dignified indeed.

"Who are these gentry, coming up the centre of the hall?" I whispered;
for a grand procession was streaming in.

"Gentry?" he said. "Why, these are the performers." They were just
passing,--dainty little maidens, in satin from the bows in their wavy
and crisp locks down to their white shoes; and they carried bouquets,
and a subtle essence of a thousand odors filled the air.

"Visitors at the Great House?" I whispered.

"Not at all," he cried impatiently. "They are our own children. There's
Mollie Lennon, the smith's daughter; and there's Annie Logan, whose
father sells you the mackerel; and there's Tessie Navin, and Maudie
Kennedy, and--"

"Who's that grand young lady, with her hair done up like the Greek girls
of Tanagra?" I gasped.

"Why, that's Alice Moylan, the monitress."

"Good heavens," was all I could say. And the doctor sailed in with his
cohort, all in swallow-tails and white fronts, their hair plastered down
or curled, like the fiddlers in an orchestra; and the doctor stooped
down and saw my amazement, and whispered:--

"Didn't I tell you we'd surprise you, Father Dan?"

Just then a young lad, dressed like a doll, and with white kid gloves,
handed me a perfumed programme.

"I charge a penny all around, but not to you, Father Dan."

I thanked him politely and with reverence.

"Who's that young gentleman?" I whispered.

"Don't you know him?" said Father Letheby, smothering a laugh.

"I never saw him before," I said.

"You cuffed him last Sunday for ringing the bell at the _Agnus Dei_."

"I cuffed that young ruffian, Carl Daly," I said.

"That's he," said Father Letheby. Then I thought Father Letheby was
making fun of me, and I was getting cross, when I heard, "Hush!" and
Miss Campion rose up and passed on to the stage, and took her place at
the piano, and with one little wave of the hand, she marshalled them
into a crescent, and then there was a pause, and then--a crash of music
that sent every particle of blood in my old body dancing waltzes, and I