Don't you see I can't do
half the things he does with it?"
"I know that," Kathleen said; "it isn't the way he plays a bit that
makes everybody talk so about him; it's just the things he does. When
he plays a tune it just doesn't mean anything, and when you play a
tune it does."
And that was as near as Kathleen could ever come to telling why she
did not care about Terence's playing. Everybody else said that it was
wonderful, but she said that it didn't mean anything. And when
Kathleen talked in this way they said that she was too critical. That
is what people will always tell you when you can see through a fraud
and they cannot.
You will suppose, without my telling you, that as soon as Kathleen was
old enough to listen to them, her grandmother began telling her the
old stories of Ireland. Often Terence would come and listen to them,
too, for he seemed to be less afraid of Mrs. O'Brien as he grew a
little older. But it never seemed to be because of the stories that he
came; he only wanted to be near Kathleen.
Mrs. O'Brien told the children stories about the Good People, and
about the old heroes and kings of Ireland who had fought to save the
country from its enemies.
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