Katy sat in the park and watched the pigeons strutting pompously along the walk. There were pigeons in Dublin, too, she thought. When she half closed her eyes and shut out the sounds of the metropolis she could imagine herself back in Dublin again, in the little park across the street from her father's novelty shop. If she tried real hard she could feel the old Katy O'Brien, the Dublin Katy O'Brien, still stirring deep inside her. A cold April breeze made her start, and shiver; and she rose from the bench to go home.
Manuscripts: Vol. 15
, Article 7.
Available at: http://digitalcommons.butler.edu/manuscripts/vol15/iss3/7