from what seemed to her a dreadful height, she
grew dizzy and shrank back; but when she looked up into the calm, kind
eyes of Lord Clare, she took courage, and said she would go. As he
tied the sash firmly about her, she said,--"If yer honor finds me heavy
you'll not let me fall, for sure you have a colleen (girl) of your own."

She put up a little prayer when she went over the wall, which I doubt
not was lovingly listened to, by Him who blessed little children.
Safely she was lowered to the stone, and eagerly she pressed against it
her soft red lips, and then called out, "I've done it, yer honor; now
pull me up, if you plase."

As Lord Clare lifted her up over the parapet, Fanny, in admiration of
her courage, rushed forward, flung her arms about her and kissed
her--calling her "the best and bravest girl in the world." The ladies
and gentlemen of the party all made presents of money, which she
received with grateful thanks, but seemed bewildered by their great
kindness and in a hurry to get away.

"Where are you going?" asked one.

"Back to Cork, sure, to find the lord-lieutenant, while the feel of the
Blarney Stone is on my lips."

"But how will you get to speak to him?"

"Ah, then, I cannot tell; but the saints will help me, may be."

"I will tell you what to do," said Lord Clare. "Come to the Royal
Hotel, where he lodges, just after the Review, to-day. I know him, and
will see that orders are given to admit you, at once."

"But hadn't I better wait till his lordship has dined?" asked Norah,
"for I have heard that gentlemen are better natured after dinner."

"Ah, you are a shrewd child," said Lord Clare, laughing, "but you
forget that you have kissed the Blarney Stone, and need not fear even a
hungry lord-lieutenant. Come at the time I set."

"And keep up good courage," whispered Fanny. "You can't expect any
help from the fairies, for there are no such little folks nowadays; but
there are the angels, you know--and my papa, he is almost as good as a
fairy."

At the hour appointed for receiving his humble petitioner, the
lord-lieutenant was standing in his parlor, at the Royal Hotel, with a
group of officers in rich uniforms and ladies in full dress about him.
He was amusing some of the company who had not been with him in the
morning, by an account of the simplicity and heroism of the beautiful
Irish child he had met, when she was shown in, by a pompous
serving-man, in showy livery, who looked very