Ellen looked in his face, started back from
him for an instant, still gazing in his face, and then caught him in
her arms and cried, with her voice all full of tears, "It's my own
boy--my own boy--the one I always saw in my dreams! Don't come near
me, any of you, or you'll wake me and it'll be another dream! Oh, let
me keep this dream while I can!"
"You'll keep this dream always, Ellen, dear," the old woman said.
"Have no more fear. This is the dream that's for all your life and
forever."
It was about that time, or it may have been a little later, that Peter
came in. They told him all about it as well as they could. "It's glad
I am that it all came out so," Peter said, after they had completely
bewildered him by trying to make him understand the story; "it's glad
I am. And yet I did like to hear Terence play the fiddle."
"I can play the fiddle a little too," the new Terence said.
"Oh, yes, indeed he can!" said Kathleen. "Bring the fiddle and he will
show you."
Peter brought the fiddle and Terence played, and the fiddle sang a
great song of gladness--the song of a soul born to find itself a full
man all at once.
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