IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

/ ^

C?,

(/.

1.0

I.I

1.25

14; 1128 IIIZ5

1^'
I-

1112

13.6

2,2

2.0

1.8

1.4 II 1.6

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, NY. 14580

(716) 872-4503

^<h

fe' m^..

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut canadien de microreproductions historiques

Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques

The Institute has attempted to obtain the best
original copy available for filming. Features of this
copy which may be bibliographically unique,
which may alter any of the images in the
reproduction, or which may significantly change
the usual method of filming, are checked below.

Coloured covers/
Couverture de couleur

Covers damaged/
Couverture endommagee

Covers restored and/or laminated/
Couverture restaur^e et/ou pellicul^e

Cover title missing/

Le titre de couverture manque

Coloured maps/

Cartes g6ographiques en couleur

Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/
Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire)

L'Institut a microfilme le meilleur exemplaire
qu'il lui a ete possible de se procurer. Les details
de cet e^'.emplaire qui sont peut-etre uniques du
point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier
une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une
modification dans la m6thode normale de filmage
sont indiqu^s ci-dessous.

□ Coloured pages/
Pages de couleur

D
D

Pages damaged/
Pages endommag^es

Pages restored and/or laminated/
Pages restaur^es et/ou pelliculees

Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/
Pages d^colorees, tachetees ou piquees

Pages detached/
Pages detachees

I I Showthrough/

Transparence

Coloured plates and/or illustrations/
Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur

Bound with other material/
Reli6 avec d'autres documents

Quality of print varies/
Quality in^gale de I'impression

Includes supplementary material/
Comprend du materiel supplementaire

Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion
along interior margin/

Lareliure serree peut causer de I'ombie ou de la
distortion le long de la marge intdrieure

Blank leaves added during restoration may
appear within the text. Whenever possible, these
have been omitted from filming/
II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajout^es
lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte,
mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont
pas et6 film^es.

Additional comments:/

aires suppl^mentaires

This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/

Ce document est filmd au taux de reduction indiqu6 ci-dessous.

10X 14X 18X 22X

Only edition available/
Seule Edition disponible

)r partially obscured by errata

Pages wholly or partially obscured by err
slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to
ensure the best possible image/
Les pages totalement ou partiell<
obscurcies par un feuillet d'errat

lement
a, une pelure.

}S par un reuiiiei a erraia, une pei
6te film^es d nouveau de facon d

obtenir la meilleure image possible

26X

30X

12X

16X

20X

24 X

28X

32X

ifier

ige

The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks
to the generosity of:

Library of Congress
Photoduplication Service

The images appearing here are the best quality
possible considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and in keeping with the
filming contract specifications.

L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grace d la
g^n^rosit^ de:

Library of Congress
Photoduplication Service

Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le
plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et
de la nettet6 de l'exemplaire film6, et en
conformit6 avec les conditions du contrat de
filmage.

Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed
beginning with the front cover and ending on
the last page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All
other original copies are filmed beginning on the
first page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, and ending on the last page with a printed
or illustrated impression.

The last recorded frame on each microfiche
shall contain the symbol — ► (meaning "CON-
TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"),
whichever applies.

Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at
different reduction ratios. Those too large to be
entirely included in one exposure are filmed
beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to
right and top to bottom, as many frames as
required. The following diagrams illustrate the
method:

Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en
papier est imprim6e sont film6s en commencant
par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la
derni^re page qui comporte une empreinte
d"impression ou d"illustration, soit par le second
plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires
originaux sont film6s en commencant par la
premiere page qui coniporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par
la derni^re page qui comporte une telle
empreinte.

Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la
derni^re image de cheque microfiche, selon le
cas: le symbole — ♦- signifie "A SUIVRE", le
symbole V signifie "FIN"".

Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent etre
fllm^s d des taux de reduction diff6rents.
Lorsque le document est trop grand pour etre
reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partir
de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite,
et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre
d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants
illustrent la m6thode.

)ta

lure.

, 4

(hoN<
ly pai

city, a

Fw* ;

leaves'

of the
which
one o<
Ameri<
arrived
adopte'

flttODI

the ov(
calmer,
on the
the Noi
public
for Iris

PREFACE.

* Om ff Began" is not new to the Irish Catholics, at least, of
the New World. It appeared first in the American Celt, a week-
ly paper, conducted by my friend, Hon. T, D. McGoe, in thi«
city, and was recently re-published in the columns of the Neu
York TaiUt. The "plain unvarnished tale" whi'.'i "blots the
leaves" of this volume was meant to point a moral that is well
woriny the attention of Irish emigrants to these western shores
of the Atlantic. It was written in connection with a movement
which it is pleasant even t ^ remember— the Bufiklo Convention,
one of the best-conceived .ilans ever brought before the
American-Irish for the p /lanent advantage of thei» newly-
arrived compatriots: a plan which, if it had been generally
adopted and carried out, might have been of incalculable bene-
fit to many thousands of the Irish race, by removmg them from
the overcrowded cities of our Atlantic seaboard to the safer,
calmer, and more healthful pursuits of agricultural life, whether
on the smiling prairies of the West, or by the great waters of
the North. Bub although the Buffalo Convention, for want of
riublic encouragement, faUed iu doing what it was meant to do
for Irish emigrants, a day may come when its wise provision

--""I

■•REFACK

Will be eagerly adopted to meet the wanU of the multitude,
who are hurrying all too fast from the Old Land which we all
love but which many of us, alasl shall see never more. Should
that day come, it will be well for the old race in America, but
should it not come, and should posterity forever ignore the no-
ble effort that was once made to turn the tide of emigration mto
a safe and saving channel, I desire here to place on record, onco
for all, the high-souled generosity, the noble disinterestedness,
and the entire devotedness of the hundred gentlemen, some of
them ecclesiastics, venerable in years and in high repute for
wisdom and virtue, all of them more or less distinguished, who
met, some eight years ago, in the border city of Buffalo, on the
confines of British America, to deliberate on the best means of
promoting the permanent interests of Irish emigranta to the
New World. If the Conventiou did not do all the good they
koped and expected from it, the fault, assuredly, was not theim.

fOUl

dooi

Win

(I '

And
was
Bpea
time
for 1
hour
seek
noti<
for 1

of the muUitadei
Land which we all
5ver more. Should
ice in America, but
ever ignore the no-
B of emigration into
ace on record, onco
e disinterestedness,
gentlemen, some of
in high repute for
I distinguished, who
y of Buffalo, on the
in the best means of
ih emigrants to the
o all the good they
redly, was not theira,

CON O'EEGAN;

OR,

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD-

CHAPTER I.

On« colJ, bleak morning, in the fall of 1844, a
foung woman timidly approached the fateful half-
door in the Post Office of a New England city.

" Have you e'er a letter, if you please, sir, for
Winny O'Regan ?"

"No, my good girl, nothing for you to-day."
And the dry, official response of the Post Office clerk
was unconsciously changed to a softer tone, for the
speaker was an Irish Protestant, and he did feel, at
times, more sympathy than people would imagine,
for the quiet, civil-spoken emigrants who daily and
hourly addressed him in home-accents, anxiously
seeking news from hia own land. Besides, he had
noticed this same Winny O'Regan almost every day
for the last fortnight, asking, but in vain, the pvao

J cov o'reoan' ; OB,

question, and his brief negative was every day chroni-
cled in deeper sadness on her pale, care-worn fea-
tures. Tliere was something touching, too, in
"Winny's appearance when one came to examine her
closely. She was a tall, thin girl, of some three or
four-and-twecty years, with a soft dark eye and a
pensive oast of countenance. Sorrow had evidently
chilled the warm glow of youth in Winny's tempera-
ment, and chastened her down to the sedate gravity -
of more mature years. Her dark hair was smoothly
and carefully arranged on either side of her high,
pale brow, taking something from its breadth, which
would otherwise have been remarkable. Her hands
were small and well-formed, though much discolored
and intersected in every direction by those unseemly
hacks in the skin which denote labor of the hardest
kind. It was late in the fall, and yet Winny was
Bcantly clothed, and looked, on the whole, rather
woe-begone. All this the clerk had noticed, and
somehow, with all her apparent poverty, it struck
him that the girl had seen better days. She seemed
80 anxious, moreover, about the letter from Ireland,
that it went to the young man's heart, for he, too,
was, at times, eagerly expectant of "news from
home," where he had lefl an aged mother and vwo
young sisters close by " pastoral Bann," in the ver-
dant holmes of Down. But he had no time to ques-
tion Winny, for scores of others were demanding
bis attention in the quick, authoritative style pecu-
liar to bustling, self-important Yankees. So Mai-

C(
01
Ol

ite
w<

to
Al
an
do
th(
int
loa
th(
an(
doi

hoi

int(

joj
ing

8m<

thai
thic
glac

;ry day dironi*
jare-worn fea^
liing, too, in
o examine her
some three or
ark eye and a
had evidently
nny'8 tempera-
sedate gravity .
r was smoothly
e of her high,
breadth, which
)le. Her hands
luch discolored
those unseemly
■ of the hardest
jret Winny was
3 whole, rather
,d noticed, and
verty. it struck
'B. She seemed
er from Ireland,
jart, for he, too,
of "news from
nother and vwo
ann," in the ver-
no time toques-
vere demanding
alive style pecu-
ukees. So Mai-

EMIORAXT UFK IN THE NEW WORLD. "^

colmson waa fain to put the sad-looking Irish girl
out of his bead, and with her the white cottage
on tho sweet Ban-side which the sight of her wist,
fal face had somehow conjured up.

As for Winny O'Regan, she turned away with a
sickening sense of despondency, and a tear found
Its way unhidden to her eye, as, gathering her
woollen shawl around her, she retraced her steps
toward* her present dwelling— Ao»ic it was not.
All at once she was reminded by the basket on her
ai ra that she had to go to market. Having turned
down a side-street which was her nearest way to
the market, she was hurrying on with a rapid pace,
intending to make up for the few minutes she had
lost, but was suddenly brought to a dead pause by
the apparition of a young man in a gray frieze coat
and corduroy breeches, who, starting out of a shop-
door, accosted her with —

"Winny! Winny O'Regan! is this yourself?
Can't you take time to speak to a body ?"

Dropping the basket from her arm, Winny took
hold of the stranger with both hands, and looked
into bis frank, love-breathing face, with eyes full of
joyful tears, her color changing and her lip quiver-
ing. A3 soon as she could speak, she exclaimed in
smothered accents —

" The Lord be praised, Con dear ! Is it yourself
that's in it? I was beginnin' to be afeard that some-
thing had happened you. Oh ! sure, sure, but I'm
glad to see you! An' how did you leave all at

■ CON o'reoan ; or,

hom6t How are Biddy and the children, an'—
an'—" her voice trembled, " an' my poor mother f
Con, darlin' ! how are they all? and did yon get my

last letter ?" ^ ,. u

" If I didn't how would I be here, yon foolish
girl ?" Baid Con, trying hard to keep in his tears,
although half forgetting where he was in his joy at
finding Winny. "An' sure they're all well an'
hearty at home, barrin'— " he stopped, looked hard
at Winny, and then bit his lip, as though deter-
mined at all hazards to keep in what waa just com-
ing out.

" Barrin' who. Con ?'' inquired his sister, anx-
iously.

" Oh ! Mary Malone— my uncle John's Mary. She

died last May was a year, of decline."

" The Lord be good to her soul !" said Winny,
with deep feeling, " an' so she's gone at last. Poor
Mary ! well, thank God, it's no one else, for some-
how it was my mother I waa thinkin' of. How does
she look. Con ? Is age beginnin' to show on her?"

«' Well, no !" said Con, with a sort of hesitation
that Winny could not well account for ; " the last
time I saw her, Winny, she looked as young, ay !
an' younger than she did the day you left home."
That was true enough, for the widowed mother wiia
then laid out in her brown habit, a fair and " comely
corpse," as the neighbors all declared. The sorrowa
of long years had vanished at the moment of death,
and a smile of ineffable joy rested on the thin, pal«

lips,

rest,
once
clay.
for B
fnlh
para

"]
"If
iu y
abro
luck
an' s

"]
you
atcp
hurr
back

"]
anira
right
here

"(
Win
" He
fond
wife'
awaj

Tl:
medi

bilclrea, an'—
poor mother f
id you get my

■e, yoo foolish
p in his tears,
IB in hia joy at
I all well an'
a, looked hard
though deter*
was just corn-

is Bister, aux-
in's Mary. She

!" said Winny,
9 at last. Poor
else, for some-
of. How does

show on her?"
rt of hesitation

for ; " the last
I as young, ay I
jrou left home."
ved mother was
air and " comely
J. The sorrows
oment of death,
on the thin, paU

KUIGRANT LIFE IN THE NKW WORI.0. f

tips, announcing that the weary had at length found
rest. But it would never do to tell Winny all at
once that the mother she so loved was cold in the
clay. At least so Con thought, and Con was right,
for such tidings would have broken Winny's faith-
ful hea^-t, had they come upon her without due pre-
paration.

" But where do you live, "Winny dear ?" said Con,
*' I forgot the name of the street that you mentioned
ill your letter, an' I just went into this shop here
abroad to look over the letter again, when, as good
luck would have it, I was standiu' near the door,
an' seen you passin' by."

" I'm sorry I haven't a place of my own to take
you to. Con," said Winny, sadly, " but if you'll just
step down with me to the market (for I'm iu a great
hurry), I'll leave you at Paul Bergen's on my way
back. You remember Paul, Oion't you ?'

"Is it Paul Bergen?" cried Cou, with sudden
animation ; " why, then, to be sure I do, Winny, an'
right glad I'll be to see him. How is he doin' out
here ?"

" Only middling. Con, only just middling," said
Winny, as they walked quickly along side by side.
" lie might be better than he is, if he wasn't so
fond of the drop, He has a long family, an' his
wife's health is none of the best. She's wcarin'
away fast, poor woman !"

There was a short silence, during which Con's
meditations seemed rsither of a sombre character.

CON o'regan ; OR,

At last he said, as if pursuing the same train of
thought, " Au' yourself, Winny dear ? — how do you
make out ?" The words were not much in ihem-
selves, but the glance that accompanied them
touched Winny's heart, for it said as plain as could
bo : " You are not so well oiFas I expected to find
you."

Winny's eyes filled wilh tears, but she tried to
answer cheerfully : " How could I send eo much
money home if 1 wasn't doin' well ? You mustn't
mind my clothes, Con, for you know I'm about my
business now. Wait till Sunday, and you'll see
how fine I'll be."

But Con's eyes were fixed on her gloveless hands,
and his cheek reddened as he said : " I see its not at
the dressmaking you are, after all ; your poor hands
are redder and coarser than they used to be ; an'
your face, too, is paler and thinner— oh, Winny,
Winny ! I'm afeard you earned that money you sent
us harder than we thought." There was a guttural
Bound in his voice, as if something choked his utter-
ance, and the light faded from his full blue eye. " He
was moved even to tears, but he dared not weep
where so many cold, strange eyes were upon him.
Winny saw her brother's emotion, and somehow it
was very soothing to her heart, so long unused to
borne sympathies.

" No matter how it was earned," said she briskly,
" it just went the road it ought to go. What do I
want with money only to make you all comfortabl* ?

I wi

more
sewi
Tl
Con
sighl
the
his :
disp
theri
meal
chan
even

mad

Ber|

take

und(

the

for I

oft'

tos(

thre

in fi

in a

and

8eiz(

she

tOWi

was

eamo train of
? — how do you
much in them-
mpanied them
8 plain as could
spected to find

ut ehe tried to
send 60 much
? You mustn't
7 I'm about my
and you'll seo

gloveless hands,
" I see ita not at
(four poor hands
used to be; an'
er— oh, Winny,
money you sent
J was a guttural
jhoked his utter-
lU blue eye. " He
dared not weep
were upon him.
and somehow it
long unused to

said she briskly,
go. What do I
all comfortabltt ?

EMIORANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORM).

£ wasn't long here till I found that I could earn
more at housework, as they call it, than I could at
sewing, so it was all one to me, you know."

They had by this ^ime reached the market, and
Con was so lost in wonder at the novelty of the
sight, that all other thoughts were suspended for
the time being. He used to think the shambles in
his market-town at home presented a magnificent
display of meat, but what was it to this? Surely
there could never be people found to buy half that
meat. Winny laughed, and said he would soon
change his mind when he had lived a few years, or
even months, in a city like that.

Winny having made the necessary purchases,
made the best of her way home, stopping at Paul
Bergen's, to introduce her brother. Paul had latterly
taken up his abode in a cellar some eight or ten feet
under ground. The damp was oozing out through
the floor, and the place had a cold, cheerless look,
for although there was a stove right in the middle
of the floor, opposite the bedroom door, it seemed
to send forth but little heat, Round it were gathered
three young children, crouching on the boards, while
in front sat a pale, sickly-looking woman, wrapped
in a faded plaid shawl, nursing an infant as pale
and ghastly as herself The cold seemed to have
seized on the poor mother's heart, for ever and anon
she trembled like an aspen, and leaned forward
towards where warmth ought to be, but, unhappily,
was not. Alas! for poor Nora Bergen— pale and

coK o'beoan ; OR,

cold, and poverty-stricken as she sat there, she had
been once the envy of many a maiden, and the pride
of many a loving heart. Nora Bergen had been for
years the rustic bells of " v country side," and though
it was hard to recognize any trace of beauty in the
squalid mipery of her present appearance, there were
Btill certain lineaments that marked her identity,
otherwise doubtful.

Con could hardly believe his eyes that the figure
bet'ora him was an old acquaintance; but conviction
forced itself upon him, however reluctantly, when
he heard Winny say :

"Good morning Mrs. Bergen; how do you feel

to-day, ma'am?"

"Why, not much belter, Winny; I have the
chills very bad on me the day, an' we have hardly a
Bpark ot fire, you see, for Paul was to send home
some coal to us before goin' to his work, an' I think
he muBt havj forgot all about it. But who is this
you have with you?"

"Ah, then, don't you know him, Mrs. Bergen,
dear?— sure isn't it our Con, all the way from Bal-
lymullen ; why I thought you'd know him if you
met him in Africa, let alone here."

" Why, the Lord bless me, Con O'Regan, is it
you that's in it ? Come over here an' give me your
hand, for I'm not able to stand up oflF o' my seat.
Sure enough, I heard you were coraiu' out, but
' somehow I was in hopes you wouldn't. Ah, then,
Con, I wish you had stayed at home. I'm glad to

b there, she had
in, and the prido
jen had been for
ide," and thotigh
of beauty in the
ance, there were
2d her identity,

8 that the figure
; but conviction
eluctantly, when

iiow do you feel

ny; I have the
we have hardly a
,8 to send home
work, an' I think
But who is this

m, Mrs. Bergen,
le way from Bal-
;now him if you

Q O'Rcgan, is it
an' give me your
ip off o' my seat,
coraiu' out, but
ihln't. Ah, then,
me. I'm glad to

EHI6BANT MFE IN THR NEW WOnLD.

nee you, an' I'm sorry to see you. But, my good-
ness, Winny, isn't it all like a drame ?— oh 1 oh !
but it's the weary, weary world. But won't you
sit down, Winny ? — run, children, an' get a couple
of chairs !"

Thus she ran on, endeavoring to hide her confu-
sion under a show of cheerful animation that made il
Blill more conspicuous. Winny had barely time to
commend her brother to Mrs, Bergen's hospitality
for the present, and then hurried away, leaving that
poor woman much distressed in mind on account of
her inability to entertain Con O'Regan as her kind
heart would wish. Calling to her a litt'.e boy of
some six or seven years, the eldest of those who
were lounging round the stove, she whispered to
him to try if there wasn't e'er a bit of coal or any-
thing to make a fire. Off went the little bright-
faced fellow diving into a sort of hole in the wall,
and, after some search, he was so fortunate as to
find a little coal, which he proceeded to put in tLe
Btove, his mother's face assuming a more oheefful
expression as she saw it beginning to burn.

" Now, Patsey, my son, since you have done so
well, will you just put some water in the kettle and
set it on the fire till we make a cup of tea for Con
O'Regan ?"

Con protested that he had no need of anything,
but he might as well have .kept silent, for Mrs.
Bergen was only sorry she had nothing better to

CON o'reoan ; OR,

offer him, but sure a warm cup of tea would do him
no harm that cold raw morning.

"I wonder what's keeping Jane, cliildren," said
the mother ; " I told her not to stay on any account."
Just as she spoke, the door opened, and down the
stops came a little girl about twelve years old, with
a pretty, intelligent-looking face, but poorly and
meanly clad.

" Well, Jane, did you see your father ?" was the
first question.

" I did, mother, but he wouldn't go ; he said we
had coal enough till the evening." And then she
whispered something to her mother, who blushed
deeply, and said, " Husht ! husht !'

The little girl was then introduced as Mrs. Ber-
gen's eldest daughter, and having taken a bashful,
Btealthy look at the stranger from Ireland, she set
about getting the tea, which she did in a neat, tidy
way, that showed her well accustomed to such little
offices. Whilst the simple repast was in prepara-
tion, Mrs. Bergen kept asking a thousand questions
about places and persons long unseen, but never to
be forgotten, filemory was busy with the poor heart-
broken woman, and the present was all but forgotten
in the bright reminiscences of the past, Con all
the time observing her with painful interest. Pre-
sently there came a loud knock to the door, and Mrs.
Bergen's faint " come in," was followed by the ap-
pearance of a tall young man, in a round jacket and
» low-crowned tarpaulin hat, such as sailors are wont

to we

glow,

about

Mri

comei

he CO'

one If

The I

byth

sti-an]

thefl

notic

greei

hom(

hard

your

Con,

Bure

fello

old
(I '

Con
(I

was
thoi

new

EMIORAST LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

wonld do him

iliildren," said
any account,"
md down the
rears old, with
t poorly aud

ier?" was the

); he said we

A.nd then she

who blushed

I as Mrs. Ber-
gen a bashful,
eland, she set
in a neat, tidy
1 to such little
ks in prepara-
land questions
but never to
he poor heart-
but forgotten
past, Con all
iiterest. Pre-
loor, and Mrs.
ed by the ap-
id jacket and
ilors are wont

to wear. His face was flushed with an unnatural
glow, and there was a swaggering, blustering air
about him which was anything but prepossessing.

Mrs. Bergen seemed in no haste to greet the new-
comer, but the children aU gathered around him as
he coolly took possession of a chair with the air of
one who is determined to make bimself at home.
The presence of our friend Con was quickly noticed
by this personage, who, after leisurely surveying the
stranger, squirted a mouthful of tobacco-spittle over
the floor, and turning to Mrs. Bergen avLo had only
noticed his entrance by a silent nod, asked who the
greenhorn might be.

" Why, that's Con O'Regan from our place at
home. I thought you knew him, Tom, but sure it's
hard for you to remember anything now."

•' Con O'Regan, from Ballymullen 1" repeated the
young man ; " the deuce it is ! Give me your hand,
Con, and let me have a proper look at you. Why,
sure enough, you do look something like a littlo
fellow of that name that used to go to school to
old Vinegar-face."

" You mean Master O'Connor, I suppose, said
Con, with a heightened color.

" To be sure I do, the old rascal ! who else should
I mean? And so you're little Con O'Regan-that
was," he added, as he took in at a glance the sinewy
though slender proportions of the other. "By
jingo ! I'm confounded glad to see you. And what
news from the old sod ?"

CON o'reoax ; OR,

"Nothing worth speaking of," said Con, very
coolly, for he was by no means taken with his new
companion ; " may I make so free as to ask who you
are, now that you know who Jam ?"

" All right, old feliow. It seems you don't keep
spite, or you'd remember Tom Derragh ?"

The glow deepened on Con's face, for he had
been gradually calling forth from the storehouse of
memory certain disagreeable reminiscences of his
wjhooldays, in which this same Tom Derragh had
borne a prominent part. He had been the biilly of
the school, and poor Con being much younger than
hfe, had often suffered from his arbitrary and op-
pressive sway. Yet in those early days Tom had
not been without some good traits, and with all
his faults he had many friends. Observing Con's
change of countenance, Tom burst into a loud
laugh, and slapping him on the shoulder, bade him
forget and forgive.

" Don't you know what old Father Ilalligan used
to say; eh, Con?" another slip on the shoulder.
" Is the old fellow living or dead — which ? lie was
a great hand at talking, and used to come it over us
plick. By George, I used to tliink him a great man
all out! Ila! ha' ha! weren't wo green in those
days, Con ?"

"If respect fur Father Ilalligan, or any other priosh,
made us green, as you call it, I'm just as green niill,"
naid Con O'Regan, " and I tell you plainly, Tom
Derr.igh, that I won't sit by and hear you, or any

one el
specie

"Tl
with !
touch;
There
I was
but I I
by jap

"W
firmly

get th

•<^

if wo I
into I
coin V
and C!
to fet(
whicli
"If
Con, I
the d(
it bac'
of sen
eetot

tion ;
"N
gettir
all th

EUIOBANT LIFE IN THF. NKW WORLD

aid Con, very
I with liis new
to ask who you

'ou don't keep
3h?"

B, for he had
storehouse of
scences of liia

Derragh had
sn the bully of
younger than
trary and op-
lays Tom had
, and with all
serving Con's

into a loud
ider, bade him

ITalligan used
tlio shoulder,
ich ? lie wa3
ome it over us
n a great man
;reeu iu those

y other prirsh,

18 green Hiill,"

plainly, Tom

r you, or any

one else, making little of them that ought to be re-
spected."

" There now," said Tom, turning to Mrs. Bergen,
with another of his coarse laughs, " they're all so
touchy about religion when they come out first.
There's my hand on it. Con, I didn't mean any harm.
I was just like you in that respect when I came here,
but I soon got over my pettishaess, and so will you,
by japers!"

" With the help of God, I never will," replied Con,
firmly; " I hope I'll never see the day when I'll for-
get the respect duo the clargy."

" Well ! well I never mind," cried Tom ; " let's see
if wo can't make it np.' Then thrusting his hand
into his breeches pocket, he drew out the solitary
coin which still remained after his last night's revel,
and calling to him little Patsey Bergen, he told him
to fetch a half pint of brandy or gin — he didn't care
which.

" If it's for mo you mean the treat, Tom," observed
Con, as, arresting the boy in his progress towards
the door, and taking the money from him, he gave
it back to Tom, " you may spare yourself the trouble
of acndin' out. I thank you all the same, but I'm a
eetotaller."

" The deuce you are," cried Tom, with real vexa-
tion ; " and so you'll not take anything ?"

•' Nothing of that kind, Tom. Mrs. Bergen is
gettin' some tea made, an' I'll take a cup of it, with
all the pleasure in life." Mrs. Bergen could not do

CON o'rboan ; 01,

less than ask Tom to have a cap of the tea which
Jane just then placed on a small table near her
mother. But Tom said he wouldn't give a fig for
all the tea in America, and pulling out his pipe, pre.
pared for a smoke, while Con partook of Mrs. Ber-
gen's humble fare, which she oflfered with many apolo-
gies for not having better.

Meanwhile, Tom sat leaning back in his chair, with
his long legs stretched to the utmost, and his stolid
eyes fixed on vacancy, as he puffed out volume after
volume of dense smoke, which gradually enveloped
him as in a cloud. Ever and anon he would pat
some question to Con, relating to sundry individuals
whom he had known " in the old country," his voice
issuing ever from the midst of the cloud, in a way
that made Con smile. At last. Con tired of being
catechized, and thought it was time to turn the ta-
bles ; so setting down his cup and saucer with a pre-
liminary " hem !" he began to examine the evidence.

" You have fine easy times of it here, Tom. You
seem to bo a sort of a walkin' gentleman. I suppose
you have your fortune made long ago. They say
fortuaes are not bard to make here."

This leading observation elicited a scoffing laugh
from out the cloud, and a heavy sigh from the pale
hostess, who was endeavoring to hush ber infant to
repose with a mournful croon.

" I hope you'll find it easier to make a fortune
than most folks do," said Tom, still laughing. " As
for me, you know I always scorned to tell a lie, and

I'll no
truth ;
death
sent ba

"An
quired
though

"Ho
load sh
earn p
fast as
all free
other I
hardly
one's 1(
pay th(
That's
better
us; thi

"Ma
posedl;
at all.
Irelan(j
make t
that Vi
ment f

"Go
gen, su
them n
if Pau

XMIGRAN'T LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

the tea which
^able near her
t give a fig for
It his pipe, pre-
ik of Mrs. Ber-
ith many apolo-

I his chair, with
, and bis stolid
at volume after
lally enveloped

he would put
idry individuals
intry," his voice
cloud, in a way

tired of being
I to turn the ta-
ucer with a pre-
te the evidence,
sre, Tom. You
nan. I suppose
ago. They eay

a scoffing laugh
li from the pale
ih her infant to

make a fortune
laughing. " As
to tell » lie, and

E'll not begin now, for you'd soon find out the
truth ; I ha'nt got one shilling between me and
death but that same two shilling piece that you
sent back to keep the old boy out of ray pocket."

"And how do you manage to live at all?" in-
quired Cod, in downright amazement. " Why, I
thought you must be well off by this lime."

" IIo ! ho ! how do I manage ! why I help to un-
load ships and such like jobs, down at the wharf. I
earn plenty of money, old fellow ; but it goes as
fast as I make it. There are a jolly set of fellows,
all free-and-easy like myself, and we stand to each
other like bricks. As we make we spend, and we
hardly ever know the want of a shilling, for when
one's locker is empty, another's is full, and the rich
pay the reckoning for the poor till luck turns again.
That's the way we live, and if you have nothing
better in view, you may come and take a band with
us ; there's no scarcity of work."

"Mary thanks to you," said Con, very com-
posedly, " but that sort of life wouldn't answer me
at all. I have a wife and two little ones at home in
Ireland, and I'll have to keep every penny I can
make together till I send for them. I'm in hopes
that Winny will be able to find out some employ-
ment for me."

" God mark you with grace. Con," said Mrs. Ber-
gen, suddenly raising her head ; " while you keep to
them notions you'll be sure to do well. Och ! ooh !
if Paul Bergeu had only shunned bad company, and

CON O'REOAN ; OR,

kept his earnings together, it's not aa we are we'd
be now, for he made a power o' money. Con, one
way an' another since he came here. But God's
will be done ! I suppose this was all before me, or
I wouldn't have it to go through."

Before any one could reply, the door again opened
and Paul Bergen made his appearance. He was a
stout, coarse-featured, broad-shouldered man, with
a regular " brandy-face," and a thick head of light-
colored hair, approaching to red. Yet Paul had
been once a good-looking, rollicking fellow, a favor-
ite with all the girls, because of his off-handed bear-
ing, backed by never-failing good humor. Con re-
membered him well before he left Ireland, and a deep
sigh escaped from him as he looked on the sottish,
ungainly figure that hard living had made hira.

Paul's first salutation was to Tom Derragh, of
whom he affectionately inquired " Where the mischief
he had got such a face ?"

« I guess I got it where you got yours, my hearty,"
returned the rough 'longshoreman, with his usual
horse-laugh. " What happened you that you weren't
at the raffle at Pat Finnerly's last night ?'

" I couldn't be in two places at once, coald I ?"
was the quicic rejoinder. "There was a dance at
Bill Dempsey's, here abroad, and Bill would never
forgive me if I didn't go. But, I nay, Nora," to his
wife, "who have we here?" — lurning hrs eye for the
first time on our friend Con, wlio began by this
time to wish himeelfsafe back in BallymuUen.

"It's

Nora, I

duce C

to see

"Yo

taking

one of

Nora,

usual :

"N.

would 1

thougl

to coo

The

bad a

then I

the el

and I

good

The I

learnii

boy o

the fa

seen t

fust ^

usual,

of hii

bring

EMIGRANT UVt IN THE NEW WORLD.

aa we are we'd
noney, Con, one
sre. But God's
Jl before me, or

or again opened
ince. He was a
iered man, with
;k head of light-
Yet Paul had
; fellow, a favor-
off-handed bear-
lumor. Con re-
land, and a deep
. on the sottish,
made hira.
am Derragh, of*
lere the mischief

Hirs, my hearty,"

with his usual

that yon weren't

ightr

once, coald I V
was a dance at
5ill would never
ly, Nora," to his
g hra eye for the
) began by this
allymnlleo.

"It's a'most time for you to ask, Paul," said
Nora, reproachfully. She then proceeded to intro-
duce Con, and to do Paul justice, he was right glad
to see him.

"You're heartily welcome here, Con," said Paul,
taking a seat near him, and slipping some money to
one 0? the children, which was, however, noticed by
Nora, who called out with more animation than

usual :

" Never mind the drink, l»aul, for Con O'Regan
wouldn't touch a drop of it; send for some meat,
though, till we get the dinntir. It won't take long

to cook."

The money was given as freely as though Paul
had a pocketful of that valuable commodity, and
then he asked where was Peter? Now Peter was
the eldest son of the family, being next to Jane,
and his father was not a little proud of Peter's
good looks, which he inherited from his mother.
The boy was clever, too, and could take up " the
learning," whether right or wrong, as fast as any
boy of his age.

"Did Con O'Regan see Peter yet?' demanded

the father. ^

"No, indeed, then, Paul, he did not. I haven t
seen a sight of Peter myself since he got his break-
fast with you this morning. He's on the streets, as
usual, God look to him and them that has the rearin'
of him! Oh Con, dear, it's an awful place this t^"
bring up children in— it is, indeed 1"

CON O'RGGAV ; OR,

" Hold your foolish tongue, woman," said her hns*
band, angrily, " and put that squalling brat to sleep.
Stir yourselves and get us some dinner, and don't be
botherin' us with your groans and your moans. Have
yon seen Winny since you came, Con ?"

Con answered in the affirmative, whereupon Tom
grinned a dubious smile. " Winny's one of the
saints, I'm thinking, Con. She's as modest as a nun,
and wouldn't look a fellow in the face on any ac-
count. They say she's gatheriug money fast ; is it
true, Con ?"

The subject was by no means pleasing to Con,
who gave an evasive answer, and then put some
question to Paul relating to some other acquaint-
ances of theirs who had emigrated during the pre-
vious year. Paul gave a history of each person, as
far as he knew, with occasional episodes from Tom,
which were in general anything but satisfactory.
By this time Jane had some ham and eggs on the
table, with some bread and potatoes, and Paul
would not consent to eat a morsel, unless both Tom
and Con would " sit over and have share of what
was going on." In vain did Con declare that ho
had just been eating and drinking — Paul cut him
dhort with :

" Don't be botherin' us now with your excuses.
I suppose you think the victuals are so Stinted that
you'll leave somebody short. But you needn't fear,"
he added bitterly ; " there's more in it than we'll all
eat. To be sure things are not so plentiful here as

wo all

Ballyr

and en

no, no

would

what

don't

an' fal

So'

the se

hospii

a pals

Paul

fathei

into

migh'

the e:

the p

(fear!

she 1

dinn<

ingC

come

imm<

out

she (

in," said her hns-
ing brat to sleep,
ner, and don't be
)ar moans. Have
on?"

whereupon Tom
ny's one of the
modest as a nun,
! face on any ac-
tnoney fast ; is it

jleasing to Con,
then put some
3 other acquaint-
I during the pre-
f each person, as
sodes from Tom,
but satisfactory,
and eggs on the
atoes, and Paul
nnless both Tom
■e share of what
declare that ho
; — Paul cut him

Lh your excuses.
e so ^tinted that
'ou needn't fear,"
a it than we'll all
plentiful hero as

KJIIORANT MFR IN THE NBW WORLD. «■

we all remember them in the farmers' houses about
BallymuUen ; we haven't the big fat pots of bacon
and cabbage,— or broth that a spoon would stand in ;
no, nor the fine baskets of laughing potatoes that
would do a man's heart good to look at them ; but
what there is, you're welcome to, and so, if you
don't want to insult me, you'll just sit over at onst

an' fall to."

So Con was obliged to give in, for fear of hurting
the sensitive feelings of poor Paul, whose sense of
hospitality was just aa strong as though he lived in
a palace, and had sumptuous fare to offer. Poor
Paul Bergen ! had he never left the shelter of bi«
father's humble cabin, or, leaving it, had he fallen
into a more genial track west of the Atlantic, he
might have lived a happier and more useful life in
the" exercise of those old home-virtues which make
the peasant's cot in Ireland a palace of content.

Nora could not be prevailed upon to taste a morsel
(fearful, perhaps, of leaving the strangers short);
she had taken a cup of lea, she said, and that was
dinner enough for her.

After dinner, Paul hurried off to his work, charg-
ing Con not to stir from where he was till he should
come back, and promising Nora to send the coal
immediately, which he punctually did. Tom went
out with him, to Nora's evident displeasure, but
she did not dare to make any objection.

OON o'keoan : OR.

CHAPTER II.

Thk long hours of the afternoon passed >/;i»vily
•way, Con fearing to lose his way if he vevjy!>.\.u out,
although Mrs. Bergen offered to send Palsey with
him, " and I'll go bail you'll not go astray while you'll
have him with you," said the fond mother, " for
though he's not six years old till next Christmas,
there's hardly a corner round here bat what he
knows. Indeed, they all know the corners too well,"
she added, mournfully, " for they're on the street
most o' their time. Only the weather is against
them to-day, we wouldn't have so many o' them in
the house. I do what I can to keep them in, but
they go in spite o' me when they take the notion."

" It's too bad," observed Con, " too bad, altogether.
Why, if them chaps were in Ireland, their fathers or
mothers would break every bone in their body sooner
than let them run on the streets."

" Ha ! ha !" cried Patsey from his station behind
the stove, " then I'm real glad I wasn't born in Ire-
land. Boys a'nt treated so here. There a'nt any
whipping allowed here, you know, and I often heard
boys say that if Irish "" •ddi'>3 had their way they'd
pive their childrea av> iwl us'»gr There now, Jim,'

to his lit

iu Irclai

just as

" Hol(

" yc"! m

W>.Jg."

"Yes

juvenile

the man

my bou

attitude

notwith

"We

mother

silent 8

nothing

there a'

the Btrj

that.

Bergen

head?'

"No

"An

parenti

"W(

she sp(

that's

times \

out of

people

WIIQIUNT I, FK IX THE NEW WORID.

passed >/;t»vi1y
le vev)^!». wu out,
nd Patsey with
tray while you'll
1 mother, " for
next Christmas,
a bat what he
►rnerstoo well,"
3 on the street
,ther is against
nany o' them in
jp them in, but
le the notion."
bad, altogether.

their fathers or
leir body sooner

3 station behind
n't born in Ire-
There a*nt any
id I often heard
ieir way they'd
icre now, Jim,'

to his little brother, " do you hear that ? If wo were
iu Ireland, they'd break our bones if wo didn't do
just as they'd want ua to."

"Hold your tongue, Patsey," said his mother,
"yen mustn't talk so; you don't know what you're

W) .ag."

" Yes, but I do, though," returned the precocious
juvenile; "I've got ears, hain't I? and I heard what
the man said. I wish any body would try to break
my bones, I do !" and he aasumed such a threatening
alliLude that Con could not help laughing heartily,
notwithstanding his unqualified disgust.

«' Well, after that, Mrs. Bergen," said he, while the
mother made sundry attempts to coerce the boy into
silent subjection, " after that, ma'am, I'll wonder at
nothing. If I saw the big Church or Meetin'-house
there abroad left sitlin' on its head iu the middle of
the street, it wouldn't give me the least surprise after
that. Now, just answer me one question, Mrs.
Bergen!— is there anything wrong with that child's
head?'

" Not that I know of."

"And is that the way that children talk up to their
parents here ?"

" Well, sometimes," said Mrs. Bergen, blushing as
she spoke. " There's little respect here for parents ;
that's a fact. Con, and I declare to you there are
times when I'd give the world to be dead and buried,
out of the hearin' and seeiu' of my own and other
people's children. Ooh ! och ! if we were only a

CON o'reoan ; OR,

thouBand miles away from this unlucky plase, in
Bome town or country where we could brin,f» up our
children in the fear and lave of God, as children are
brought up in poor old Ireland, and where Paul
would be away from the bad company and the cursed
taverns, I think I could die with a joyful heart.
But no, no, no'' — and at every -word her voice sank
lower and lower till it reached a hoare-j whisper —
•' no, no, we're bound hand and foot ; we haven't the
means now to go anywhere, and God look down on
us this sorrowful day !"

Con hardly knew what to say, and yet he wished
to administer consolation to that breakiag heart.
But stranger as he was, and utterly ignorant of Paul
Bergen's affairs, how could he pretend to hold out
hopes ? Whilst these thoughte were passing through
bis mind, a light tap came to the door, and the next
moment a soft arm was round his neck, and the gen-
tle voice of Winny spoke at his side.

"Don't be frightened. Con, it's only me. I'm
here far sooner than I expected, for when the mas-
ter come to his dinner, I told him about you, and
he said he just wanted a stout, active man, for a
porter at the present time, and that he would give
you a trial. So you see God is good to us — as ho
ftlwaj's is," she added, feelingly. " Come, Con, take
your hai and we'll go right oft' to the store."
' The store, Winny, what is that ?"
" Oh I I forgot," said Winny, with a smile, " that
they were all shojps at home. But there's no Buoh

thing as
their tra
how hav
added V
Jim's ha
morning
side ?"

" Ver;
for the
often, t!
decent,
such ind
don't bl
is good,
harm's \
credit U

Winn
left the
deeply
walked
side, til
from a
how ho

"To
it at all.
Tm hon
for me.
me eno

" IIu
laughin

KUIGRAN'T I.TFK IS THE NEW WORLD.

ilucky plase, in
lid biini;; up our
, as children are
ind where Paul
y and the cursed
a joyful heart.
i her voice sank
loarsT whisper —
; we haven't the
>d look down on

d yet he wished
breaking heart,
ignorant of Paul
lend to hold out
5 passing through
>or, and the next
eck, and the gen-
e.

8 only tne. I'm
r when the mas-
1 about you, and
dive man, for a
nt he would givo
ood to us — aa he
Come, Con, take
Lhe store."
I?"

th a smile, " that
; there's no Buoh

thing as shops here. Con, except where men work at
their trades; it's stores they call the shops. And
how have you been since I saw you, Mrs. Bergen ?"
added Winny, as she slipped half a dollar into little
Jim's hand;" I had hardly time to say a word this
morning when I was here. How is the pain in the
Hide ?"

" Very little better, Winny, many thanks to you
for the asking. You don't come to see us very
often, though,— but, indeed, it's hard to expect a
decent, quiet girl like you to go where you' 11 meet
such indifferent company as Paul brings here. So I
don't blame you, Winny dear, for I know your heart
is good, and I'd be sorry to see you put yourself in
harm's way on my account. And your brother's a
credit to you, Winny, long may he be so 1"

Winny hastily shook hands with Mrs. Bergen, and
left the house in silence, fearful to let her see how
deeply she felt for her situation. Con and she
walked on for some time without a word on either
Bide, till at length Winny started, as if awaking
from a trance, and asked her brother with a smile
how ho liked America, as far as he had seen it ?

«* To tell you the truth, Winny, dear, I don't like
it at all. If that's the way men live here, the sooner
Vm home again in Ballymullen, it'll be all the better
for me. Paul Bergen and Tom Derragh have given
me enough of America !"

" Hut, tut, Con ! don't be foolish," said Winny,
laughing ; " you'll see plenty cf our own country

CON O'RRnAN : OR,

peopU here living as well as heart could v/hh. Paul
Bergen and Tom Derragh are bad specimens, suro
enough, but don't let them frighten you out of your
Benees."

" But what evil spirit gets into them," persisted
Con, " tliat they can't keep from tippling, an' theui
left) home to make the better of it in a strange
country ? Just look at that decent woman of Paul
Bergen'd, siltin' there perishiu' with cold half of her
time, and lookiu' the picture of starvation, au' him-
self with a face as red as a turkey's head. And
such a line family as they have of clean, likely chil-
dren — but sure they're a-rearlng up for the devil —
God forgive me for sayiu' so ! And then, Tom Der-
ragh — to see a fine able young man like him with
out a shilling hardly to jingle on a tombstone, after
being ten years in America 1"

" Well, well, Con, never mind," said his sister,
coaxingly, " you and I will have a different story to
tell a few years hence, with the help of God I I've
a thousand questions to ask you, but we haven't
time now, for here's Mr. Coulter's store. Now
mind your p's and y's, Con, — the master is a very
good sort of a man, if he finds people to his liking.
He'll be at you at first about your religion, but
never mind him, his bark ia worse than his bile.
Just keep your temper, and let him talk away, afier
a while he'll get tired of it, when he sees he can
make nothing of you, and he'll think all the more of
you in the end for being steadfast in your own re-

ligion.

though 1
in now,
a man.
there's i

"God
voice, a
range tl
it dowr
over hii
ded app

Mr. C
tached '
cntrauo(
his banc
spectac!

"So 1
gentlem
friend C

" Yes
anythinj
thankfu
time be
aii:jvver

" Hui
Mr. Coi
in Engl
nacular
look at
fruiting

uld wiHh. Paul
Bpeciinens, suro
you out of your

[letn," persisted
ipling, an' tbeiii
it in a Blrange
woman of Paul
cold half of her
vation, au' him-
y's hend. And
ean, likely chil-

for the devil —
then, Tom Der-

like him with
ombHlone, after

said bis sister,
liferent story to
of God! I've
but we haven't
'fl store. Now
laster is a very
lie to his liking,
ir religion, bub
) than bis bite,
talk away, after
he sees he can
all the more of
Q your own re«

EUiaRANT UFR IN THE NEW WORLD.

ligion. He's a real, good-hearted man at bottom,
though he does seem a little rough at times. Come
in now, in God's name, and hold up your head liko
a man. Don't bo down-hearted, Con dear, for
there's no fuar but you'll do well."

" God send it, Winny !" said her brother, in a low
voice, as Winny stopped him at the door to ar-
range the collar of his coat and brush the back of
it down with her hand. Having glanced rapidly-
over his costume to see that all was right, hhe nod-
ded approvingly, a id in they went.

Mr. Coulter was behind his desk in the office at.-
tached to his wholesale Avarehouse, but on Winny'a
entrance with her brother, he came forward, wJth
his hands in his pockets, and a pair of gold-mounted
spectacles thrown up on his forehead.

" So this is your biolher, Winny ? ' said the old
gentleman, fixing a keen and practised eye on our
friend Con.

" Yes, sir, this is ray brother, and if you can find
anything for him to do, both him and I will bo very
titankful. Being a stranger here, he might be some
time before he'd get a situation, and that wouldn't
answer him at all."

" Hump ! his funds are rather low, I presume 1"
Ml'. Coulter never guessed. He had been educated
ill England, and had a great contempt for all ver-
nacular corruptions of his mother tongue. Another
look at Con, who stood with his hat in his liaod
waiting for any direct address to himself.

CON REGAN : OR,

•* You're only just come out, young man !" said the
merchant at length.

" Just landed yesterday, sir.''

" You seem a fine hearty young fellow. What
can you do ?"

" Farming, sir, was what I was best used to, but
I'm afeard there's little of that to be done here, so
I'm willing to try my hand at anything else."

" So far good, and what about religion ?" — tliis
was said with a kind of smile that might be inter-
preted in various ways — " 1 suppose you're a Papist,
are you?"

«' I'm a Catholic, sir."

" I thought as much. Humph !" Here another
pause, during which Mr. Coulter put his hands be-
hind his back, and walked a few paces to and fro.
Con ventured to break silence with :

" But sure, sir, that has nothing to do with my
work. If you'll give me a trial I hope you'll not
have reason to be dissatisfied, for I'll do my best,
and wo have a saying, sir, where I come from, that
best can do no more."

" Yes, but I do not like to have Catholics in my
employment, — you needn't smile, Winny, you know
I speak the truth, although yoii'vo been in my family
so many years — the fact is, young man, I have part-
ners hero who will hardly believe that Irishmen, and
especially Irish Papists, can be trusted to any ex-
tent. Whether their views are correct is not the
question, but these gentlemen keep me in h(jt water

while

They

glassei

Now,

precio

than

the fi

your 1

"\\

pleasi

cross

pie jv

their

warn

leave

to be

an Iri

I'll d<

the o

warn

of an

smile

"He

took

told

if he

♦'I

man !" said the

fellow. What

St tised to, but
»e done here, so
ng else."
•eligion ?" — this
might be inter-
you're a Papist,

Here another
t his hands be-
ces to and fro.

to do with ray
lope you'll not
['11 do my best,
jome from, that

I!atholic8 in my
nny, you know
en in my family
in, I have i)art-
tt Irishmen, and
3ted to any ex-
rect is not the
me in hot water

EMIGBAXT LIFR IN THE NEW WORLD.

while ever there is one of you about the concern.
They always see your faults through magnifying
glasses, and are slow to acknowledge your merits
Now, although I am the head of the house, I like a
precious sight better to have things go on quietly
than to be continually exercising my authority in
the firm. I hate contentions, young man— what's
your name — O'liegan, of course ?"

" Yes, sir, Con 6'Regan," with a low bow.
" Well, Con, are you willing to run the risk of
pleasing my partners ? for myself, although I am a
cross old fellow at times, I am willing to treat peo-
ple just as they deserve, without much regard to
their creed or country. But if you come here, I
warn you in time what you have to expect. If yoa
leave yourself open in any way to censure, I am sure
to be blamed for having taken it upon me to employ
an Irish Papist."

" Well, sir, I can only say, as I said before, that
I'll do my bf'f^. and ii' I don't give satisfaction to
the other geiitlemen, you can send me off at a day's
warning, for, God knows, I wouldn't be the cause
of any dissension— no, not for a mint of money."

The old gentleman rubbed his hands briskly,
smiled and nodded to Winny, as much as to say :
" He'll pass muster, Winny— I know he will !" then
took his station once more behind the desk, and
told Con he might come to the store next morning,
if ho ohose.
♦' I will then, sir, and thank you kindly. I don'l

want to lose one day, if God leaves me iny
health."

" Very well, Con, we'll begin with six dollars a
week, and .you'll make yourself generally useful at
any branch of the business."

"Anything — anything you please, sir — God bless
you, sir !"

" I say, Winny," said Mr. Coulter, calling after
them to the door, "you'll just take your brother
home and give him a comfortable supper. Aud, do
you hear, Winny, see that he don't take up his lodg-
ing in any of those vile, low places, where he would
be sure to meet with bad company. Take him to
Borne quiet, decent boarding-house."

" I will, sir, thank you," said Winny, unable to
say more in the fulness of her gratitude.

" Long life to your honor," cried Con, as they
bowed themselves out; " may you never know the
want of a friend — an' please God you never will !
Why, Winny," said he, when they had Reached the
street, " that's a mighty fine old gentleman — not the
least cross !"

" Oh, well, he seems to have taken a likmg to
you. Con, thanks be to God for that same, but, at
any rale, he's very friendly aud good-natured. Tlie
mistress is not quite so good as he is, but you'll
have nothing to do with her. So much the better
for you."

" But, Winny, what fine wages he's giving me I"
■aid Cod, pursuiug the train of his own pleasant

thought
and the

"Not
with a
good wl
them all
mannget
now, hei
door, wt
lighting
went up
sent her
While si
neat, ooi
tion not
were ma
to him.

Mrs. C
safe arrii
nified he
with. T
poor Wii
ticular ti
poiir itst
seen. B
ground,
lady was
intention
and app

caves me my

1 six dollars a
jrally useful ai,

sir — God bk'ss

r, caU'mg after
your brother
iper. Aud, do
ke up bis lodg-
rhere be would
Take bim to

nny, unable to

tde.

i Con, aa they

iver know thu

au never will !

id /cached the

emau — not the

m a liking to
p same, but, at
naturcd. Tliu
i is, but you'll
ich the better

'» giving me !"
own pleasant

CMIORAKT MFR IN THE NKW WORLD.

thonghts. «' Why, I'll be able to send for Biddy
and the children in less than no time."

" Not so soon as you think, Con," said Winny,
with a smile full of affection, " it will take you a
good while to put as much together as will bring
them all out. But, after all, with industry and good
manftgement, the time will soon come round. Hush,
now, here's the house." They went in by the area
door, which Winny opened with a latch-key. After
lighting the fire and setting on the tea-kettle^ she
went up to tell her mistress that Mr. Coulter had
sent her brother home with her to get his supper.
While she was gone. Con sat looking around at the
neat, comfortable kitchen with feelings of admira-
tion not unmixed with simple curiosity, for there
were many things there whose use was a mystery
to him.

Mrs. Coulter was mightily pleased to hear of the
safe arrival of Winny's brother, and graciously sig-
nified her intention to go down and see him forth-
with. This was a piece of condescension which
poor Winny could well have excused at that par-
ticular time, when her heart was full, and longed to
poiir itsfcif out to that beloved brother so long un-
seen. But, of course, this was kept in the back-
ground, and Winny thanked her mistress. That
lady was not slow in aooomplishing her benevolent
Intention. Down she sailed to the lower regions,
and appeared before the visual orbs of Con

CON o'beoan ; OB,

O'llegan, filim, and tall, and Btately, and looking as
like mummy as living woman might.

Con rose and greeted the lady with his best bow,
and then remained standing until Mrs. Coulter
politely requested him to be seated, she herself tak-
ing her stand in front of the brightly-polished
stove, through the grate of which a clear coal fire
was seen sending up its flame to the bottom of the
kettle aforesaid. Winny went to work at once to
make some hot rolls for tea.

" And so you've engaged with Mr. Coulter, Con,
(for such, I find, is your name) ?"

" Yes, ma'am, I'm proud to say I have."
«' Well, now, I hope you'll try and keep your
situation. It is a very rare thing, indeed, for Irish-
men to do well here, and on Winny's account, I
should liko you to do well. Winny is a good girl,
although she is Irish. And now let me give you a
piece of advice. My husband, Mr. Coulter, is a very
good sort of man— in his own way— but you will
Bometimea find him.rough and hot-tempered. Poor
man ! he means well, I believe, but he ia not
blessed with vital rel\;ion— that explains all, you

see."

It did nut explain it to Con's satisfaction, inasmuch
as he had never heard of such a thing as vital reli-
gion, but he continued to listen attentively in hopes
of some more tangible explanation of what the good
l»dy was driving at.

" Thia hint may serve you in good stead," went oo

Mrs. C(
Bufficieo
Holy \N
benight
to arou
band's i
duct. J
friend, 1
garment
more be
roy are
minds o
is, even
will supj

" In a'

"Wei
oommod

"Oh,
" ueithei
ing here
be askin
house,
depeudii
out here
and plea

" Verj
him afte
seasonal

Atthi
think, A)

nd looking aa

i 1)18 best bow,
Mra. Coulter
ihe herself tak-
ightly-polished
clear coal fire
bottom of tbo
)rk at once to

•. Coulter, Con,

have."

and keep your
ideed, for Irish-
my's account, I
y is a good girl,

me give you a
Soulier, is a very
Y — but you will
empered. Poor

but he is not
explains all, you

faction, inasmuch
ling as vital reli-
entively in hopes
of what the good

i stead," went oo

KMIORAN'T LIFE THE NEW WORLD.

Mrs. Coulter, " seeing that ' a word to the wise is
sufficient for them,' but, alas ! I fear the language of
Holy Writ is new to your ears, coming from poor
benighted Ireland. However, you will endeavor not
to arouse the old unsubdued Adam in my poor hus-
band's nature by any thoughtless or unseemly con-
duct. And now that I am admonishing you as t
friend, I would advise you to lay aside those shaggy
garments of yours, and provide yourself with clothes
more becoming a civilized land. Frieze and cordu-
roy are unfortunately associated with Popery in the
minds of Christian people, and as your outward man
is, even so will you be judged. Winny, how soon
will supper be ready ?"

" In about 1 alf an hour, ma'am."

" Well, Con," said Mrs. Coulter, " we have no ac-
commodation for you here, I regret to say."

"Oh, ma'am," said Winny, hastily interposing,
" neither my brother nor I ever dreamed of his stay-
ing here. As soon as I wash up the tea-things 1 11
be asking leave to go and settle him in a boarding-
house. Oh dear, no! ma'am, he don't want to be
depending on any one, not even on me. He camo
out here to earn a living for himself and his family,
and please God he'll be able to do it."

"Very good, indeed, Winny; you may go with
him after tea, of course, but sec that you return in
seasonable time."

At this Winny was somewhat -tsttled. "I don't
think, Mrs. Coulter, you ever kneir me to spend au

M; CON o'bfgas ; OK,

evening out of your bouse since I came to it, I
thank God I have as much regard for my character
M any one else. Still Im thankful to you for your
good advice, whether I need it or not."

"Mrs. Coulter then sailed out of the kitchen and
up stairs again, leaving iho brother and sister at last
to the free interchange of their feelings and affections.
« And now that we can speak a word between our-
selves," said Winny, "how are you off for money,
Con ?— have you any at all left ?"

" Well, not much ; but still I'm not entirely run
out. We had a good deal of expense, you see, with
doctors an' one thing an' another, so that I had just
enough to bury my mother decently, an' thankful I
was for thnt same."

" What did you say?" cried Winny, dropping the
dish-towel from her hand, and sinking on a seat pale
as death. " Is my mother dead, then ?"

Con was thunderstruck. He had quite forgotten
that Winny was as yet ignorant of her mother'^
death, and he had alluded to it inadvertently. But
it was too late to prevaricate now. The mournful
tidings must come out, and he addressed himself to
the task with desperate resolution.

" She is, Winny dear, may the Lord in Heaven
have mercy on her soul ! I didn't mean to tell you
•o suddenly, Winny, but it can't be helped now, and,
beside*, you'd have to know it some time. Three
month* ago, when the long summer days were in it
Ml' the grass was green, we laid her in my father*«

grave
have n
world,
ger, or
either,
to prep
comfor
for her
have d(
giving
that sh
dream
eased 1
Blesaec
her not
protect
now, \'
I'm gla
heart,
what t<
our mo
— Bure
"Ob
wouldi
mothei
when I
all be
comeo
any W(
hard ei

KUIGRANT I.IFK I.V THE NEW WORLD.

ame to it. I

■ my character

you for your

e kitchen and
d eister at laat
and affections.
i between our-
off for money,

ot entirely rnn
I, you eee, with
that I had just
, an' thankful I

r, dropping the
7 on a seat pale

quite forgotten
if her mother'b
vertently. But
The mournful
ssed himself to

jord in Heaven
nean to tell you
lelped now, and,
ae time. Three
days were in it
Br in my father**

grave back of Kilshannon Chapel. But sure we
have no reason to repine, for she's gone to a better
world, Winny, where she'll never feel cold or hun-
ger, or sorrow any more. She wasn't taken short,
either, thanks be to God I — she had a reasonable time
to prepare, and your money provided her with eve "y
comfort in her last sickness. Biddy did all she could
for her ; if she had been her own child she couldn't
have done more. She died as easy as a child, after
giving us all her blessing. Her only trouble was
that she couldn't get a sight of you, but she had a
dream about you the very night before she died that
eased her mind all of a sudden. She thought the
Blessed Virgin came to her in her sleep, and told
her not to fret about you, that you were under her
protection, and that there was no fear of you. There
now, Winny dear — don't cry that way — and still
I'm glad to see you cryin', for it'll relieve your poor
heart. You looked so wild at first that I didn't know
what to do or say. Sure you wouldn't wish to have
our mother back again in this troublesome world ?
— »ure you wouldn't now, Winny ?"

" Oik no, no," said the heart-struck mourner, " that
wouldn't be right, but, then, to think that I hare no
mother — that's the thought that kills me, Con — just
when I was planuin', day and night, how happy we'd
all be when her and Biddy and the children would
come out next spring or fall ! Sure I never grudged
any work I had to do, thoagh God knows it WM
hard enough at times, because I thought it was for

8^: COS o'rEGAN ; OR,

my mother I was earnin', and my greatest comfort
was that she didn't know how poorly I felt at times,
and how ill able I was to work. And, then, I was
always thinking of the happy days we'd have to-
gether, but now— now— that's all over— I'll never,
never see her again in this world,— an' I've no one
to work for now !" Throwing her apron over her
head, as if to shut out a world that was now hateful
to her, the poor girl wept and sobbed for some time
unrestrainedly, for Con thought it best to let her cry
it out. After awhile, however, he ventured to put
in a word of remonstrance, his own tears flowing fast
as he spoke.

" I declare now, Winny, " I'll leave the place, so I
will, if you keep crying that way. It's thankful you'll
b« that your mother's gone to rest, when once you
get over the first heavy sorrow. So dry up yonr
tears, Winny, and let us talk the matter over quietly."
«' But, tell me, Con," said his sister, utcovering
her face, and making an effort to restrain her tears,
" tell me, did you get any Masses said for her ?"

" We did, indeed, Winny. Father Halligan said
four Masses for her, besides the one that his curate.
Father McDonnell, said the day of the funeral. And
there wasn't a charity that Biddy gave since her
death but was given with that intention. Oh I we
didn't forget her, Winny; indeed we didn't. As
f»r as our means would allow us, we done our duty.''
««Welll God bless you for that same," sobbed
Winny, "I know Biddy was ever and always a good

daugh
you, C
part o:
be th£
wring!
weepii
resting
wonde
"W
mystei
all roa
mothe
know
you re
was a
for Di|
^eard

"W
it, and
death!
But n(

The
tily w:
man's
else, s(

As f
room,
being
the re

EMIORANT LIFE IN THE NEW TTOKLD

satest comfort
[ felt at times,
d, then, I was
we'd have to-
er— I'll never,
,n' I've no one
proD over her
Eis now hateful
for some time
t to let her cry
ntured to put
TS flowing fast,

the place, so I
thankful you'll
vben once you

dry up your
ir over quietly."
er, uticovering
train her tears,
i for her ?"

f Halligan said
that his curate,
e funeral. And
gave since her
ation. Oh! we
we didn't. As
ione our duty.''
same," sobbed

1 always a good

daughter-in-law — may the Lord reward her f and for
you, Con, I don't need to be told that you acted the
part of a good son. But oh ! oh ! can it be — can it
be that my mother is dead — dead and gone ?" and
wringing" her hands, she burst into a fresh fit of
weeping. Con could advise no better moans of ar-
resting thiri torrent of grief than by exciting Winny's
wonder, which he happily had it in his power to do.

" What do you think, Winny," he said, in a low,
mysterious, voice, " but we heard the Banshee cryin'
all round the house for three nights before my poor
mother died I It's truth I tell you, Winny. Yoa
know the Banshee follows the O'Connor family —
you remember poor Aunt Aileen that died when she
was a slip of a girl, and how the Banshee was heard
for nights and nights before her death. You never
ieard the Banshee, Winny ?"

" No, but I often heard others say they did."

" Well, sure enough, this was the first lime / heard
it, and I hope it will be the last ; it's such a lonesome,
deathly cry, that it makes a body shiver all over.
Bat none of ua saw her, thanks be to God !"

The door-bell then rang loudly, and Winny has-
tily wiped her eyes to admit her master. The old
man's mind was happily taken up with something
else, so that Winny's swollen eyes passed unnoticed.

Aa soon as she had left up the tea in the dining-
room, Winny hastenea to give Con bis supper,
being anxious to get him off to his new home before
the return of the hoasemud, who was spending tb«

CON o'bbgan ; oa.

evening out, and whose croas-examinationehe wished
to avoid in the present state of her mind.

To her mistress she said nothing as to what she
had heard, for Mrs. Coulter had that measured and
staid character which belongs to New England
ladies, and the cold, formal accents of her condo-
lence would have fallen drearily on the fervent
heart of the Irish girl. " No ! no !" thought Winny,
as she looked at her, seated at the head of her tea-
table, dispensing its comforts to her family with as
much stiffness and formality as could possibly be
thrown into the occasion; " no, no— the look of her
is enough to turn one's heart into ice ; she'd be only
teasing me with useless questions; but, please God !
I'll tell the master as soon as I get a chance. God
bless his kind heart, with all his roughness, a body
can't help warming to him."

As soon as she possibly could, after supper,
Winny put on her bonnet and shawl, and sallied
forth with Con in quest of a boarding-house. She
knew of several kept by acquaintances of her own,
but there were many points to be considered in a
matter whose consequences might be so important
both for time and eternity. The choice of a board-
ing house seems a small thing, but it very often de-
cides the fate of a stranger arriving in a place
where all is new to him, and where he has to make,
not only friends, but acquaintances. The character
of his associates is, then, of the last importance,
wad may influence his whole after-life, whether for

good O!

fully sei
and mu
family
widow i
who coi
by the
was nea
on the '

£««|^(iUirW^t»?M'--'

.ionehe wished
lind.

IS to what she
measured and
New England
of her condo-
n the fervent
lought "Winny^
jad of her tea-
family with as
Id possibly be
ihe look of her
; she'd be only
at, please God !
% chance. God
ghness, a body

!, after supper,
twl, and sallied
ing-honse. She
368 of her own,
considered in a
te so important
oice of a board-
t very often do-
ing in a plaoe
he has to make,
The character
last importance,
life, whether for

IMIOBAKT UFE IN THE NBW WORLD.

good or ill. Happily, both Winny and Con were
fully sensible of this, and after some consideration,
and much consullation, Con was received into the
family of a certain Mrs. Maloney, a respectable
widow from the next parish to that of BallymuUen,
who contrived to support herself and three children
by the profits of her boarding-house. The house
was neat and clean, although scantly furnished, and,
on the whole, Con thought the choice a good one.

OOW 0*KKGAN : 01%

CHAPTER III.

Con O'Reoan was early at hia post next morning
equipped in a suit of working-clothes, purchased by
himself and Wiuny over-night, and having announced
himself as a new hand, was employed by the other
men in one way or another till the arrival of Mr.
Coulter, who made his appearance about eight o'clock.
One of the partners came in soon after, and imme-
diately noticed Con, who was wheeling out some
empty boxes on a truck.

" I say, Mr. Coulter, who is that man that I just
mot at the door ?"

" Can't say," returned the senior partner, drily ;
«' how should I know who you met at the door ?"

«' Oh ! I mean the man who is taking out those
boxes. I never saw him before."

"Very likely. That's a man whom I engaged
yesterday to assist in the warehouse. He'll make a
capital porter, after a while."

«' Yes, but aint ho Irish ? I thought we were to
have no more of them here. We have quite too
many as it is."

«' I don't know as to that," said Mr. Coulter, with
ft sagacious shake of the head, and speaking very

•lowly
work t
For m;
ploymi
you m
genera
way tr
well ai
obligit]
there i

"Th
that til
that tl
honors

"Hi
ders, "
other
Just 1<
and se

"Y(
Coultc
sarcas
last s]
Ameri

"M
ble ol(
my coi
ami;
what'i

EMIGRANT UrE IN THE NEW WORLD.

t next morning
I, purchased by
ving announced
3d by the other
arrival of Mr.
)ut eight o'clock.
,fler, and imme-
leliug out Bome

man that I just

p partner, drily;
at the door ?"
.akiflg out those

hom I engaged
e. He'll make a

aght we were to
5 have quite too

^r. Coulter, with
,d speaking very

•lowly ; " I think where there is question of hard
work there are none to come up to those very Irish.
For my part, I have had many of them in my em-
ployment during the last twenty years, and 1 tell
you now, as I often told you before, that I have
generally found them industrious, sober, and every
way trustworthy. And, then, you know yourself as
well as I do, that they are much more civil and
obliging. I can't for the life of me see why it is that
there is such an outcry against them."

"There, now," said Pirns, eagerly, ".you admit
that there is an outcry against them, and that proves
that they deserve it. Americans are too fair and too
honorable to condemn men without sufficient cause.''

" Humph !" said Mr. Coulter, shrugging his shoul-
ders, " there's one great property we have above all
other people — that of blowing our own trumpet.
Just let this poor Irishman alone — ^give him fair play,
and see if he don't do his duty."

" You have certainly a strange way of talking, Mr.
Coulter," said the other, reddening with anger at the
sarcasm so bluntly conveyed in the first clause of the
last speech. " You, at least, have not much of the
American about you."

" Maybe yes and maybe no," said the imperturba-
ble old man ; " I'm not bound to follow the mass of
my countrymen, or uphold them when they do wrong,
am I ? — I have a mind of my own, Master Pirns, and
what's more, I mean to have it as long as I live."

" Well ! well !" cried Pirns, pettiahly, " keep it and

CON o'nEGAN ; OB,

welcome, but I do wish you would oonsnlt Mr Wood
and myself before you draw those ignorant, hard-
headed Irish Papists about us. Just at a time, too,
when every respectable house in the city, indeed all
New England over, is making it a point to get rid
of them. It ill becomes us to give such an example."
" Hear him now I" said Coulter, as he turned the
key in the lock of the office door, " what a fuss he
makes about nothing I If you don't want to keep
the young man here, I'll pay him out of my own
pocket, and employ him on private business of my
own. So let there be no more about it."

"Oh! as to that, Mr. Coulter, I guess neither
Wood nor myself thinks any more of a few dollars
a week than you do — it's the principle for which I
contend."

The old gentleman threw back the office door
with a loud bang, muttering something very like a
consignment of his Know-Nothing partner (for
there were Know-Nothings then as well as now,
dear reader,) to the safe keeping of a most unpopu-
lar individual commonly known as " Old Nick,"
whereupon Pima, seeing that his blood was up,
thought proper to betake himself to an upper loft
where he wns wont to exercise his authority. '
Happily there were none of the obnoxious race to
arouse his kindling ire, for good Mr. Coulter con*
trived to keep all the Irishmen in the concern about
himself, with the kindly intention of screening
them, as much as might be, from the over-watchful

KMIORANT UFK IS THE NBW WORLD.

alt Mr. Wood
Ignorant, hard-
at a time, too,
;ity, indeed all
)iut to get rid
h an example."

be turned the
what a fuBfl he

want to keep
It of my own
(usinesB of my

it."

guess neither
f a few dollars
lie for which I

he office door
ing very like a
; partner (for
( well as now,
k most unpopu-

"Old Kick,"
blood was up,
9 an upper lol^

his authority,
oxious race to
T. Coulter con*
I concern about
I of screening
e over-watohful

distrust of the junior partners, and the contempt,
uous dislike of the clerks.

As for Con O'Regan, he applied himself heart and
soul to please his employers. Being warned, and,
therefore, half armed, by the friendly advice of Mr.
Coulter, he took care to leave nothing in the power
of those who would desire nothing more than to
find some plausible excuse for condemning him.
" Well ! it is hard enough, too," would he some-
times think as bo wound his way to his lodging-
house after a day of hard, unremitting toil; " here
am I and three or four other poor Irishmen work-
ing like slaves from morning till night, doing all we
can to please, and never getting one word of praise
or encouragement from Monday morning till Satur-
day night, for even Mr. Coulter, God bless him I
hardly ever speaks to us, unless to give us some
orders. And then, if the least thing goes wrong
with any of the gentlemen, we're all kept in hot
water ; it's nothing then but ' stupid Irish' and ' ig-
norant Paddies,' and the hardest names they can
think of for us. Well ! God be with poor old Ire-
land, anyhow !" nnd Con would invariably end his
cogitations with a heavy figh.

Very soon after he engaged in the warehouse of
Coulter, Pirns dk Co., he went one eveping to see
Winny, who contrived as soon as she well could to
send Leah, the housemaid, up stairs to do some-
thing for the young ladies. The coast thus clear
she hastened to profit by the opportunity.

CON o'reqan ; OR,

" And now, Con," said "Winiiy, placing a chair fof
her brother near to where she sat, plucking a goose,
•'and now. Con, how do you like your new situa-
tion? I was thinking long to see you ever since,
bat couldn't manage to get out, for we had a good
deal of company here."

She did not tell her brother what she knew would
only fret him, that amid all this bustle her health
was Tory indifferent, so that she had been at times
hardly able to ho4d up her head.

" Well ! on the whole, I can't complain, Winny,
though, to tell you the truth, I don't feel at home in
it. I know I'm earning far more than I could do in
Ireland, but somehow — " he paused, cleared his
throat, and then went on in a quick, tremulous
voice, " but somehow — I know it's foolish in rae to
say so after coming so far to make money — but
there's nothing like the truth — I'd rather do with
less at home in Ireland, for, after all, Winny dear,
• home's homely,' and it's true enough what I heard
the ladies and gentlemen singing oflen up at the
big house, —

' Be it ever so humb'.e there's no place like home.' "

Winny smiled, but her smile was mournful, for
her heart had often echoed that sentiment in the
loneliness of her dark cellar-kitchen during the five
long years she had been from home. Often, when
her heart was full even to overflowing, without one
near of her own race or her own religion to whom

■he C(
ing tl
woal(
of Ihi
whosi
trial 1

So
but it
laugh

II ■y

you l

you

oours

your

it's b

Bidd;

many

altog

no! ]

have

they

for a1

agaio
II (

bad i
"I
I cou
mgo
seen

EMIGRANT LITE IN THE NEW WORLD.

g a chair fo»
cing a goose,
r new situa-
1 ever Bince,
3 bad a good

knew would
e her health
een at times

ilain, Winny,
3I at home in
[ could do in

cleared his
Ic, tremulous
lish in me to

money — but
iher do with
Winny dear,
what I heard
m up at the

e home.' "

mournful, for
iment in the
dring the five
Often, when
, without one
ion to whom

the could impart even a portion of her overwhelm*
ing thoughts and feelings, she felt as though words
would have been too small a purchase for one sight
of the loved ones far away beyond the great ocean
whose terrors she had braved to come to a land " of
trial and unrest."

So she keenly felt the truth of what Con said,
but it did not suit her to say so, and she tried to
laugh him out of his melancholy.

" Why, Con, are you home-sick already ? — didn't
you know well enough before you left home that
you were coming to a strango country, and, of
course, you couldn't expect to find all things to
your liking anywhere you'd go ? but sure, after all,
it's but natural for you to be sorrowful — you have
Biddy and the children to think of."

" Well, I don't deny but what I think of them
many's the time," returned Con, " but it isn't that
altogether that makes me feel so strange here — oh,
no ! I'd get over that in time, for, please God, we'll
have them out before very long, but it's the way
they have here of treating Irishmen like dogs, just
for all the world as if we were forcing in on them
against their will."

" Oh now. Con," put in Winny, " it's hardly so
bad as that. Don't be makin' it worse than it is."

" I'm not makin' it worse, Winny ! I wish to God
I could tell a better story, but there's no use blind-
mg our own eyes. Short time as I'm here, I have
seen plain enough that Americas very difierenl

COK o'BEaAN ; OB,

from what we thought it was. Why, don't you r»
member, Winny, how the people used to say at
home, and ourselves amongst the rest, that there
was no difference made here between Catholic and
Protestant, or Irishman and Englishman — no mat-
ter where they came from, or who they were, we
thought they were all welcome here, and that cead
mille failthe was the word to all strangers. Ah I
Winny, Winny, weren't them mighty fine drames
entirely ? Isn't it a thousand pities that they're all
gone before we're long in America ?"

" Well ! well I Con," said Winny, as she proceeded
to the stove to singe her goose, " there's no use in
lookin' back. Look straight before you, man, and
try to make the best of it, now that you are here."

" That's just what I mean to do, with God's assist-
ance. You know what we used to read in our
Manson's Spelling-book long ago : ' Faint heart
never won fair lady' — so I suppose the fair hdy
means good luck as well, and I've made up my
miud to luxve good luck, or I'll know for what. But
do you know, Winny, it pulls my courage down a
peg when I think of all our friends and neighbors
that are here so many years and have so little by
them."

" Oh nonsense, Con, how could you expect such
men as Paul Bergen and Tom Derragh to have
either money or value ?"

" No more I don't ; it's not of them I'm tbinkiog,
for I see plain enough that the fault is mostly their

own, b
and a g
sober, \
and the
that tJie
they li^
downiij
only fr(
every p
This is
the moi
think ii
for it's
the doo

"We
cheerful
was he:
present!
appearc
but just
I hear I

Havii
dressed
his way
the wa]
used to
thoughl
and be:
in her f
what's (

KMIGRANT LIFE tN THK NEW WORLD.

lon't you r»
id to say at
I, that there
Catholic and
an — no mat-
ley were, we
,nd that cead
ingers. Ah i
fine drames
at they're all

le proceeded
e's no use in
ou, man, and
)u are here."
God's assist-
read in our
Faint heart
he fair lady
made up my
r what. But
rage down a
nd neighbors
I so little by

expect such
agh to have

I'm thinking,
mostly iheir

own, but there's James Reilly and Pat Mulvany,
and a good many others that we both know, steady,
sober, bard-working men — they were that at home,
and they're just the same here — well, I don't see
that they're any better off than the others. It's true
they live better, and their families are not in real
downright hardship, like Paul Bergen's, but still ii's
only from hand to month with them, and it takes
every penny they can make to keep things square.
This is what disheartens me at times, Winny, a 1
the more I think of it, it's all the worse. But
think it's gettin' late, and I'll have to be up early,
for it's me that takes down the shutters and opens
the doors this last fortnight or so."

" Well, then, you'd better go," said Winny, in aa
cheerful a tone as she could command, for her heart
was heavy with the home-truths which Con had
presented more clearly to her mind than they ever
appeared to her before. *' It's nearly nine o'clock,
but just wait a minute till you bid Leah good night,
I hear her foot stealing down the stairs."

Having shaken hands with the prim and neatly-
dressed Leah, and wished her good night. Con took
his way to bis home for the time being, thinking all
the way that Winny didn't look at all like what she
used to do. " She used to be as merry as a kitten,"
thought he, " and as red as a rose ; now she's dull
and heavy, and melancholy-like, with no mure color
in her fkce than there is in a whin-stone. And then
what's come of the fine Sunday clothes she said she

CON O^RIOAN ; OR,

had ? ne'er a one of them has myself seen, though
we went to Mass together every Sunday since I
came. Ah. Winny, poor Winny ! I'm afeard it's
what you left yourself bare and naked to send homo
money! and I suppose il*8 often the same story
might be told of them that sends home money
to Ireland !'•

It was only a few days after this visit to Winny
that Con was invited by one Phil McDermot to a
dance at his house, and Con, elated vfiih the
thoughts of meeting many old acquaintances, as he
was assured he would, went to Mr. Coulter's that
same evening to ask Winuy to accompany him on
the following evening. Great was his surprise
when Winny shook her head and told him she
couldn't go, and what was more, she didn't want to

go.

" Why, sure you're not in earnest, Winny," and
Con opened his eyes to their fullest extent ; " what
would ail you but you'd go ? I'm sure there s no
one in more need of a little diversion than you are,
and what's more, I'll not go a step without you. So
go you must !"

«' No, nor yott'll not go either, Con— at least with
my will, an' I think you'll hardly go against it."

* Con's snrmWe was perfectly correct, as all who take an Inr
terest iu the IiUh in America can truly testify. Wo have
all of us known numerous instances of poor servant girls send-
ing home several pounds in the course of a couple of years,
from an average wages of /lr« dollart a mouth.

Con
detect
smile, I
graver

"I'm
very, v
You ki
and all
home, {
one tha
thinks (
there's
than ai
Timlin
on any

"W<
to go n
with y<

"Jui
giving
myself
about i
heart."

"Bu
Con, Bl

"Lei
with s(
his net
the lik<
boy an

EKIORA.VT MFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

If seen, tbongh
Junday since I
['m afeard il'a
d to send homo
,he same Btory
B home money

visit to Winny
kIcDermot to a
lated With the
aintances, as he
. Coulter's that
ompany him on
ts his surprise
1 told him she
3 didn't want to

St, Winny," and

extent ; " what

sure there 8 no

on than you are,

vithout you. So

>n — at least with
) against it."

I all who take an in-
r testify. We have
ir servant girU send-
a couple of years,
outh.

Con looked hard .it Winny, to see if he could
detect even the 8li<;htest semblance of a lurking
Bmiie, but there was none ! Winny's face was even
graver than usual, as she said :

" I'm quite in earnest. Con. These dances are
very, very bad places of resort for young people.
You know the penny dances, and the barn-dances
and all such things were forbidden by the clergy at
home, an* it's ten times worse they are here. No
one that wants to keep up a decent character ever
thinks of going to a dance of this kind. They say
there's more mischief done at them night-dances
than anywhere else. I might never face Father
Timlin if I went, and besides I wouldn't go myself
on any account, when I know it's wrong to do it."

" Well ! but sure it wouldn't be any great harm
to go now, Winny, when you'd have your brother
with you ?"

" Just as mi ch harm as if I weut alone, for I'd be
giving yon an 1 others bad example, and putting
myself and you, too, in harm's way, so say no more
about it, Con, if you don't wish to grieve me to the
heart."

" But what will Phil McDerraot say ?'• persisted
Con, still hardly convinced.

" Let him say what he pleases," returned Winny,
with some sharpness. " He wanted to get you into
his net, as he has got many another. Ii'ti him and
the like of him that ruins many and many a decent
boy and girl, enticing them into all sorts of bad

01 CON o'rman ; on,

company for the sake of selling their dirty drop of
poisonous liquor. They'll come to them with a
friendly word and a deceitful smile, and talk to
them about home, till they make them b'Ueve they're
the best friends they have in the world, an' all the
time they'd sell them body and soul for sixpence
Say to Phil McDermot, indeed ! just say nothing at
r11, but keep away from him altogether. If you
don't b'lieve me, just ask the priest the first time
you go to confession, au'/you'll see what he'll say to

you 1"

" That's enough, Winny dear," said Con eagerly,
seeing that his sister appeared rather annoyed at
his pertinacity ; " think no more about it, and nei-
ther will I. What the clergy set their face against
must bo bad everywhere, so I'll have nothing to do
with these dances."

" God bless you. Con," said Winny fervently, her
large dark eyes filling with tears of joy and affec-
tion ; " you'll never be sorry for making that promise,
if yon have the grace to keep it. I know you were
a great dancer at home, but keep from it here, Con,
for it's diflFerent company you'd meet altogether."

So the brother and sister parted for that time,
and Con went home well satisfied with himself, and
grateful to Winny for her watchful solicitude.

The following day passed away without any re-
markable occurrence, and as evening drew near. Con
could not help thinking of the dance. Dancing had,
for years, been his favorite amusement, and whether

tt was
"the
was Ic
very t
then L
vice, t
forC(
or pul
demni
rality.
thefl(
ward
under
wife 1
of be:
God,
himse
be abl
in the
put al
notsf

♦Th
land fi
of the
Derail)
tome t

fDi
Irelain
all the
who, '
Uie cal

KMIGRANT I.IFR IX THE NBW TTORI.D.

r dirty drop of
3 them with a
le, and talk to
a Vlieve they're
orld, an' all the
ttl for §ixpence
t Bay nothing at
gether. If you
jt the first time
what he'll say to

lid Con eagerly,
Lher annoyed at
bout it, and nei-
heir face against
^e nothing to do

oy fervently, her
of joy and affeo-
ing that promise,
L know yon were
rom it here. Con,
let altogether."
d for that time,
with himself, and

solicitude.

without any re-
g drew near. Con
le. Dancing had,
lent, and whether

tt was at " patron,"* wedding, or in competition for
" the cake,"t Con was always first on the list It
was long since he had had " a good dance," ani the
very thought of it made him step more lightly, but
then he could not think of disregarding Winny's ad-
vice, enforced as it was by the precepts of religion,
for Con knew very well that night-dances in taverns
or public houses were everywhere and always con-
demned by the Church as inimical to Christian mo-
rality. So Con nlanfully put away his longings after
the flesh-pots of Egypt, and sent his thoughts home-
ward over the sea to the little thatched cottage
under the sycamore tree, where he had left his young
wife and her two little ones in anxious expectation
of being sojn sent for to America. And, please
God, they'll not have to wait long," said Con v^ithin
himself; " if I only keep my earnings together, I'll
bo able to get them out next spring, or at farthest
in the fall, and won't we be all happy then ? So I'll
put all these foolish thoughts out of my mind, and
not spend a shilling that I C4q help till I have enough

* The famoaa annnal leaUrals he'd in the raral parts of Ire-
land from time immemorial, on the feast of the Patron Saint
of the pariah. The dance ia always held in the open air, ge«
Derail; at some crots-roadi, or on the smooth green sward of
some tequeslered vale.

f D<iDciDg for the cake is, I believe, a castom pecnliar to
Ireland. The important edible is placed on high in view of
all the company, and enviable is the lot of the " dancing pair,"
who, " by tiring others down," obtain the right to take dowa
the cake. Theae dances are also held in the open air.

COM o'reoan ; OR,

to send for Biddy and the children." On the second
day after this, Mr, Coulter called Con into his office
to dust it out, and taking up the morning paper
■which he had just laid down, he gruffly asked his
new porter if he had been at a dance on the previous
evening.

"No, sir," said Con, turning round in some sur-
prise ; " I was not, indeed."

" I'm glad to hear it," said the old gentleman, in
a softer tone ; " they're a bad business — a disgrace-
ful business, these Irish dances, and if you're wise
you'll have nothing to do with them. It seems there
■was one last night at a certain tavern kept by one
HcDermot, and, as usual, a number of the men got
drunk ; they then began to quarrel, and pitched into
each other like fury, the watchmen effected an en-
trance, and took the whole party off" to the station-
bouse, Avhere they spent the night. Yesterday morn-
ing they were all brought up for trial in the police
court, and two of them were committed to jail under
charge of * assault and battery.' Several of the others
were fined. There it is, you see, Con O'Regan, —
how can Americans have any respect for people that
act in such a way ? — and this is quite a common oc-
currence—there's hardly a morning but we have such
accounts of the winding up of * dances.' "

Con stood aghast on hearing this disgraceful story.
" And wlial are tho names, if you please, sir, of the
two men that were sent to jail ?"
Mr. Coulter referred again to his paper. " Their

names
Thoma
■what <
ain't tl

"Th
else, tl
make i
better

The

•was gl

what 1

titude

a shar

been i

" aftei

been i

comp£

' brick

such I

what

guidec

creati

of ha'

enouQ

Winn

poned

the 81

taken

that

On the seoond

into his office
lorning paper
affly asked his
n the previous

[ in some snr-

gcntleman, in
a — a disgrace-
if you're wise
It seems there
n kept by one
f the men got
id pitched into
iffected an en*
to the station-
esterday morn-
il in the police
3d to jail under
•aloftheotherg
an O'Regan, —
for people that
a common oc-
t we have such

8.' "

sgraceful story,
■ase, sir, of the

)aper.

" Their

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

names? — ah! — let me see — yes, here they are —
Thomas Derragh and Bernard Brady. Well, Con,
•what do you say to these countrymen of yours ? —
ain't they fine fellows ?"

"They're unfortunate fellows, sir, and nothing
else, that left their own country and came so far to
make a bad hand of themselves. God grant them
better sense ; that's all I ean say !"

The office was now thoroughly dusted, and Con
■was glad to make his escape, in oider to think over
what he had just heard. His first thought was gra-
titude to Heaven for having saved him from being
a sharer in the disgrace of these rioters. " If I had
been so headstrong as to go there," thought he,
" after all that Winny said, it's in jail I might have
been now with unfortunate Tom Derragh and his
companion. I suppose this Brady is one of the
' bricks' he talked of— the fine jolly fellows that lived
such a merry life. Ah ! then, isn't it true enough
what the old people soy in Ireland : * They're well
guided iiiat God guides V May the Lord keep every
creature out of bad company !— sure, the very thoughts
of havin' a body's name in the papers that way is
enough to make me tremble all over I"

In the evening he made it his business to see
Winny, iu order to let her know what had hap-
pened. But he found Winny as well informed on
the subject as he was himself, Mrs. Coulter having
taken good care that she should hear it. Indeed,
that worthy lady was always on the look-out for

6«

CON O'KKOAN ; OR,

the police reports, having a singular desire to note
the wild vagaries of "the low Irish," as she used
to say. Those '■ reports" in which the Irish figured
were carefully treasured in her retentive memory,
and retailed with notes and comments, first to those
of her own household — WinDj, of amrae, included —
and subsequently to all her visitors during the day.
To Winny, Mrs. Coulter's remarks on these occa-
sions invariably assumed a charitable, sympathizing
tone, as though condoling with the poor girl on her
Irreparable misfortune in being connected with such
disorderly characters by the double bond of coun
try and religion. To all others, her husband in
olndod, the good lady spoke with all the fire of in-
spiration on the grievous ein committed by the
government in not endeavoring to check the emi-
gration of those degraded Irish, whose crimes were
enough to draw down vengeance on any country.

"Softly, softly, my good Prudence," would her
husband reply. " Do you think there are no crimes
committed in this land except by the Irish? Pshaw,
woman, don't make a fool of yourself. Some of the
Irish are imprudent, I grant yon, and will get drunk
and oome to blows ; and, to tell the truth," he add-
ed in a lower voice, " their foibles are always made
the most of, whether in police reports or private
conversation — but after all, Prudence, they are not
by any means addicted to the dark, secret, unmen
tionable crimes, which are of daily occurrence
amongst other sections of the community. Better

get dri
do woi
these V
hear tb
bors.
even th
ral poi:
then it
tiicm at
employi
hardest
we shal
made t(

"Ho\
lady, "
country

"All

"I do
idolatro
phia. ]

"We;
husbanc
old Nc\
cry agai
opinion,
it who 1
pride o
ritans w
religion
incousis

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NKVT WORLD.

estre to note
' as she used
Irish figured
Lire memory,
first to those
w, included —
iriog the day.
1 these occa-
BympathiziDg
or girl on her
ted with such
ond of coun
husband in
ihe fire of in-
itted by the
leck the emi-
i crimes were
ny country.
!," would her
are no crimes
rish? Pshaw,
Some of the
vill get drunk
•uth," he add-
always made
tfl or private
they are not
ecret, unmen
y occurrence
ioity. Better

get drunk and blacken each other's eyes than to-
do worse, Mrs. Coulter. I don't want to defend
these wild doings of the Irish, but neither will I
hear them acoubed of being worse than their neigh-
bors. I tell you they are not. With all their faults
even the very worst of them are no worse, in a mo-
ral point of view, than those around them. And
then it can't be denied that the great majority of
them are good citizens; honest, submissive to tbeir
employers, and able and willing to undertake the
hardest work. Let us do them justice, then, and
we shall not find them one-half as bad as they are
made to appear."

" How is it, then, Mr. Coulter," gaid the indignant
lady, " that they are in such bad repute all over the
country ?"

" All over New England, you mean."

" I don't m^an New England alone— see how their
idolatrous churches were burned lately in Philadel-
phia. I guess that is not in New Enghnd— is it ?"

" Well I it's all the same. Prudence," returned the
husband. " Philadelphia is just a huge chip of the
old New England block. The reason of all this out-
cry against the Irish is pretty plain, in my humble
opinion. Their religion is their great offence, deny
it who will, and it's rather inconsistent for us, who
pride ourselves on our descent from the old Pu-
ritans who lefl England, as they said, on account of
religious persecution— I say, Mrs. Coulter, it is rather
inconsistent for us to raise the banner of persecution

M CON o'bsoan ; OR,

en this free soil, and cry down a whole people be-
cause they happen to profess a faith which don't go
down Avell with Protestant Americans. But I knoV
I might as well lallc to the wall as try to remove
your prejudices, so let us have dinner as soon as pos-
sible. I'm as hungry as a hawk, after all that talk-
ing.^'

Mrs. Coulter put on her most chilling look, and
wore it all the time of dinner, to the no small amuse-
ment of her worthy husband, who cared little for
sour looks 80 long as he had a good substantial din-
ner before him. As for Winny, she hid her blusheB
and her tears in the privacy of the kitchen, as it wm
Leah's duty to attend the table.

A rs

at Phil
request
He fou
less asf
it ie tr
her wo
to be i
near th
himself
them n
was ev
eyes,
that C(
by Nor
a sign t
to Con
she 8ui(
Con, <](
withoui
play wl
been di
BO we'r
DOW as

lie people b*
?hich don't go
. But I knoV
try to remove
as soon as pos-
r all that talk-

lling look, and
lO small aranse-
sared little for
substantial din-
hid her blusbes
tcben, as it wm

KMIORANT LIFE IN THE SEW WORLD.

CHAPTER IV.

A FBW days subsequent to the unfortunate dance
at Phil McDermot'fl, Con O'Regan went, at Winny's
request, to see how matters stood at Paul Bergen's.
He found the household wearing a still more cheer-
less aepect than when he saw it last. Mrs. Bergen,
it is true, was moving about, but still wrapped in
her woollen shawl, and looking as though she ought
to be in her bed. The baby was asleep in a cradle
near the stove, and at a table in one corner sat Paul
himself playing cards with three other men, all of
them more or less under the influence of liquor, as
was evident from their flushed cheeks and heavy
eyes. So intent were they all four on their game
that Con's entrance was happily unnoticed, except
by Nora herself and some of the children. Making
a sign to them to keep quiet, Mrs. Bergen motioned
to Con to remain at the door, and going over to him,
she said in a low, eager whisper : " For God's sake.
Con, don't come in! — if you do, you'll not get away
without losing less or more, for they'll make you
play whether you will or no. Yon see they've all
been drinking, an' they've just got in a quart of gin,
80 we're in for a night of it, God help us ! Be off
DOW as fast as yoa can before Paul sees you, bat

CON o'kkgan ; OR,

oome again soon, for poor Peter's very bad with
roe, an' I've had trouble to no end since you an'
Winny were here. Not a word, now. Goodnight,
an' God be with you." So saying, she literally pushed
Con out, and hastily closed the door after him.

In a little truckle bed behind the cradle lay Peter
moaning piteously, and tossing restlessly from side
to side. It was evident that the boy had sustained
some bodily injury which had, in all probability,
caused his sickness, for his head was bandaged round
and round, so that only the lower part of his faod
was visible. Hia mind was evidently wandering,
for he kept muttering about one thing and another,
iu incoherent, broken sentences, not seldom giving
utterance to some oath or imprecation that made
his mother's flesh creep. On such occasions she
would softly remind him of the presence of God,
and that all such talk was bad and sinful, but Peter
would only reply with a mocking laugh, or with
language still more profane. " Water, water !" was
the constant cry of his feverish delirium, aud hia
mother's tears mingled with the draught as she
every few minutes put it to his parched lips.

" Oh, child I child !' would poor Nora Bergen
say almost aloud, forgetting, in the excess of her
ill ^ui:ih, the presence of the drunken party at the
tab' J ; " child ! they have killed your soul as well an
your body I — he'll die — he'll die, an' no more sense
or feolin' in him than a stone, with them terrible
enrses on bis poor p;irched lips. May the Lord ia

heaven

family !
on the
was evi
remaini
the poc
his hare
himself
knows 1
iu the I
maybe
what'll
Allal
brain,
altercat
tion in
he cried
the tab
some gi
" Ind(
but stil
tumbler
" and it
You're
over the
No an
her feet
squattinj
kand on

I'ery bad with

since yon an'
Good night,
iterally pushed
after him.
radle lay Peter
ssBly from side

had sustained
lU probability,
andaged round
art of bia face
Lly wandering,
g and another,

seldom giving
.ion that made

oooasiona she
isenoe of God,
nfut, bat Peter
laugh, or with
!r, water !" waa
lirium, aud hia
iraught as she
ed lips.

Nora Bergen

excess of her
sn party at the

soul as well an
no more sense

them terrible
ly the Lord ia

BMIGBA.VT UFE I.V THK NEW WORU). ^

heaven look on us this night for a poor unfortunate
family !— and then," she would add, as her eye fell
on the swollen, lowering brow of Paul Bergen, who
was every moment waxing more sullen as the small
remains of his hard earnings went successively into
the pockets of the other sharks, " and then to seo
his hard-hearted father sittin' there makiu' a beast of
himself an' spendin' the little that he has, when he
knows right .o'.l that we h-v^n't hardly a bit or sup
in the house for our breakfast, ;:n' poor Peter lyin',
maybe in the jaws of death! Ochonel ochone!
what'U we do, at all ?"

All at once another wild notion entered Peter'a
brain. His father's voice reached his ear in loud
altercation, and the sound awoke a dormant pulsa-
tion in tho poor boy's heart. " Father 1 father !"
he cried, raising bis voice high above the clamor at
the tahie ; " father ! I want some gin— give me
some gin, father T

" Indeed, then, I will, my son," said the besotted,
but still good-natured father, laying hold of his
tumbler, which was still half full of gin and water,
" and it's glad I am to hear your voice again.
You're better, aren't you ?" leaning as he spoke
over the 8ick:bed, with the tumbler in bis hand.

No answer from Peter, but his mother started to
her feet from where she had been sitting, or rather
squatting, at the foot of toe bed, and laying her
hand on the glass, cried with wild eagerness :

CON o'keoan ; OR,

are you mad If — snre

" Why, Paul Bergen !
ravin' the child ia !"

" liavin' or not ravin', I tell you, Nora, he must
have what he wants — a little drop will do him no
harm, but a deal of good. Don't be botherin' mo
•with your nonsensical talk. Peter, don't you want
some gin ?" he asked, bending again over the sense-
less child.

" Yes, yes — gin — I want gin I" came distinctly
from the dry, fever-cracked lips.

The glass was instantly at his lips, held by the
unsteady hand of the drunken father, while the
mother in vain tried to take it away, crying :
" You'll kill him, Paul— oh. Lord ! oh, Lord ! you'll
kill bim !"

" Let me alone," was the answer ; " don't you see
how he drinks it down as if it was honey — I tell
you it'll do him good."

•The mother, seeing her efforts useless, wrung her
hands and sank once more on her low seat at the
foot of the bed, the children all setting up a piteous
ory when they saw their mother in such distress.
Jane went over to her and put her arm around her
neck, beseeching her not to cry that way, though
the tears were streaming from her own pretty eyes.

Paul having administered the potion to his son,
said, with much complacency, as ho laid his head
back on the pillow: "There now, you unhappy
■wretch of a woman, you'll see he'll go to sleep now.
Just let him alone, an' go an' mind your business."

And

where

return

over 1;

ed to

deep a

materi

and Ji

who p

to whi

sentlm

pen be

Eolatio

of Jam

she hei

allowc'

ble th(

their i

nestlinj

went tl

been I

wouldr

out a s!

the drii

or ratt

Nora's

too, we

the sicl

her sea

was tall

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

>€h

lady — Bare it's

Nora, he must
/ill do bitn no
3 botberin' mo
ion't you want
over the sense-

lame dislinclly

ps, held by the

her, while the

away, crying :

h. Lord ! you'll

" don't you see
honey — I tell

less, wrung her
low seat at the
ag up a piteous

such distress,
irm around her
It way, though
wn pretty eyes,
tion to his son,
) laid his head

you unhappy
;o to sleep now.
your business."

And with that he resumed his place at the table,
where the game had been standing still awaiting his
return. When he was gone his wife arose and bent
over her son, who had really sunk into what appear-
ed to her a profound slumber. His breathing was
deep and heavy, but sufficiently regular to allay the
maternal fears of poor Nora. The night wore on,
and Jane put the children to bed, all except Patsey,
who petitioned to be left up with his sick brother,
to which his mother consented, having a strange pre-
sentiment at her heart that something was to hap-
pen before morning. In the utter loneliness and de-
solation of the moment, it seemed as if the company
of Jane and Patsey was all she had to rely upon, and
she heard with satisfaction the boy's request to be
allowed to sit up. The two children seemed sensi-
ble themselves that there was a load of sorrow on
their mother's heart, for they sat silent as death,
nestling on the floor close by her side. On and on
went the carouse at the table, though the cards had
been latterly laid aside, Paul protesting that he
wouldn't turn another card because he was left with-
out a shilling in his pocket. But on and still on went
the drinking and cursing, song after song being sung,
or rather shouted, to the excruciating torment of
Nora's aching head and breakirg heart. On and on,
too, went the deep breathing, or rather snoring of
the sick boy, his mother ever and anon rising from
her seat in order to ascertain whether any change
was taking place, and at last, just as the clock of a

^ CON o'reoan ; OR,

neigbboring cburcb told the firBt hour of moruing,
she noticed with terror that such was really the caae.
The soft, regular breathing had turned to a violent
heaving of the chest; the lower jaw had fallen so as
to leave the mouth wide open, and the nose had as-
sumed that pinched look which too surely indicates
approaching dissolution. Wildly uplifting the edge
of the bandage which covered the lower part of the
brow, the poor mother paw with horror that her son's
eyes were open, but glazed and motionless, and the
dreadful thought flashed upon her mind that her
beautiful boy, the pride of her heart, was dying. In
her agony, she shrieked out, "Paul! Paul! he's dy-
ing— run Some of you for a doctor."

Paul was at her side in a moment, and the one
look which he cast on the deathlike face before him,
sobered him effectually. Like a madman he rushed
to the dooi and up the steps, not waiting even to put
on his hat. The other men were almost as fright-
ened as himself, and one or two of them would fain
have assisted Nora in chafing the boy's stiffening
limbs, but the poor mother motioned them away,
for her soul loathed these drunken associates of her
wretched husband.

" Keep off, every one of you," she cried, as with
frenzied eagerness she continued her hopeless task,
looking ever and anon at the distorted face, in hopes
of seeing even a shade of consciousness ; " don't
touch him— I tell you don't lay a finger on him;
he's going before his Qod without the chanoo of

sayin'

unfort

only s

no — n<

he nev

at all ;

them !

poor t

shiver

Buddei

then a

was g

sank c

have n

— oh, r

child !'

nature

that tfa

mothei

Just

his fac(

masses

"He

" that

called 1

brat m

be — w<

shut th

a stone

the otb

ur of morfling,
really the case.
ad to a violent
bad fallen so as
le nose had as-
mrely indicates
lifting the edge
wer part of the
)r that her son's
onless, and the
mind that her
was dying. In
Paul ! he's dy-

nt, and the one
face before him,
dman he rushed
ting even to put
Imost as fright-
,hera would fain
boy's stiffening
aed them away,
issociates of her

16 cried, as with
er hopeless task,
ed face, in hopes
Qusness ; " don't
i finger on him;
t the chance of

EMIORANT UFK IN THB NEW WORLD. M

Bayin' ' Lord have mercy on me,' and all from your
unfortunate gin. Ob, my God I my God ! if you'd
only spare him to get the rites of the Church ; but
no— no— oh ! he's goin'— he's goin' ; och ! och ! will
he never come with the doctor ? what's keepin' him
at all ? Jane, Patsey, run, run an' see what's keepin'
them !" Hero one long, painful moan escaped the
poor sufferer's blue lips — a few convulsive gasps, a
shiver ran through the whole body, the legs were
suddenly drawn up and then stretched at full length,
then a long, deep breath, and all was still. A soul
was gone to its account, and the hapless mother
sank on her knees beside the corpse, crying "Lord
have mercy on him ! Mother of God pray for him
— oh, mercy I mercy — Christ have mercy on my poor
child I" It was the agony of faith as well as of
nature. The two children wept aloud, for they knew
that their brother was dead — they knew it by their
mother's wild, prayerful sorrow.

Just then Paul threw open the door and rushed in,
his face pale as death, and his hair hanging in thick
masses over his eyes.

" How is he now ?" he cried, approaching the bed ;
" that hell-hound of a doctor wouldn't come ; he

called me a d d drunken Irishman, and said the

brat might die and welcome for all the loss it would
be — well for him, he pulled in his head so soon and
shut the window, for I'd have brained the fellow with
a stone. There's another lives a block or two up
the other way, an' I ran in to see how he is before I

gA CON o'began ; OB,

go anv farther. But what's this, Nora-is he deal f
—is he dead, woman ? Why don't you speak ?"

" He is dead, Paul," replied the heart-broken mo-
ther, raising herself with difficulty, and fixing a cold
reproachful eye on her husband. " He is dead ; as
dead aa ever you or I'll be. Ho needs no doctor
now. You sent him home fast enough at last.
Poor man ! poor man !" she added, her voice assum-
ing a somewhat softer tone, " there's no use in
blamiu' you— you hardiy knew what you were doin'
at the time— but och ! och ! I wouldn't be in your
place for all the world— ray own is bad enough-
God He knows that." She then stooped and closed
her son's mouth and eyes with surprising calmneBS,
then kissed his lips and brow, and all without drop-
ping a single tear, while all around her was tears
and sobs. Even the hardened drunkards who stood
by could not help sympathizing in this heavy cala-
mity; and, as for Paul, his grief knew no bounds.
He very naturally reproached himself for liaving at
least hastened the death of his favorite child, and
hence it was that, like Rachel, he would not be
comforted. "My son is dead, and I have killed
■ him !" was the only answer he vouchsafed to his
late boon companions when they tried to comfort
him. At last ho worked himself into a kind of
phrenzy, and seizing hold of two of the men, one
with either hand, he shook them violently. " Only
for you," he said, or rather shouted, " only for yoa
and your cursed drink, my boy might be alive yet.

Clea
me 8
off r
Borrj

'M
for t
won(
you 1

"1
their
you '

Fo
men,
were
appei
assist
corps
who
labor

"I
pitial

"Ii
hand
Godl
Dear
you 1
that I

"H
Mrs.
his aj

■MIORAXT I.irt IN THE NRW WORLD.

«t

—is he cleal f
u speak ?"
rt-broken mo-
l fixing a cold
le is dead ; a»
eds no doctor
ough at last,
r voice assum-
e's no use in
row were doin*
n't be in your
bad enough —
ped and closed
sing calmneBB,
without drop-
her was tears
irds who stood
lis heavy cala-
ew no bounds.
If for having at
jrite child, and
would not be
I I have killed
lohsafed to his
led to comfort
nto a kind of
f the men, one
)lently. " Only
, " only for yoa
;ht be alive yet.

Clear out, every mother's son of you, and never let
me see the face ot one of you inside my door. Be
off now, or I might be tempted to do what I'd be
Borry for doin' in my own house."

"Wo will, Paul— we will," said one, answering
for the others ; " God help you, poor man, it's no
wonder you'd be out of your mind— God comfort
you and your poor wife, this sorrowful night."

" No, no, Paul," said another, as they all took up
their hats, " we'll not stay a minute longer thaa
you wish."

Fortunately for the poor afflicted Bergens, these
men, with all their faults, had Irish hearts, for they
were not long gone when two women made their
appearance, sent by their respective husbands to
assist Mrs. Bergen in the sad task of laying out the
corpse. This was a great relief to the poor woman,
who would otherwise have had the whole dismal
labor to herself.

" I'll give you a hand at any rate," said she, with
pitiable calmness— the calmness of despair.

" Indeed, then, you'll not, Mrs. Bergen— the sorra
hand you'll lay on him— your load is heavy enough.
God knows, poor woman, without havin' that to do,
Dear knows, but it was the heart-scald all out for
you to have them drunken vagabonds of ours, an»
that Jack Duigenan in on you at such a time."

"Her own husband was worse than any of them,
Mrs. Tierney," said Paul, rousing himself from
his apparent lethargy ; " there's not such a bruU

|§ CON o'RRaAX ; or.

livin' this night aa Paul Bergen, au' that woman
there before you-that Nora Bergen that you sea
there— is just the mo3t miserable poor woman in-
side the city-search it all round. But this night
will settle all that. With the help of Almighty
God, they'll have good eyes that'll ever see me taste
a drop agaia— neither gin, ale, nor brandy shall
ever cross ray lips, so lor- as God leaves me hie.
Do you hear me, Nora?"

" I. do, Paul, I do," said Nora, in the same listless
tone, and without raising her head. It was clear
she had not much faith in the promise, solemnly and
fervently as it was made. Poor Nora Bergen had
heard but too many such promises made of late
years without any permanent improvement in Paul'a

habits.

When Con O'Regan went to his dinner next day,
he was met on the way by one of his acquaintances,
who told him of what had happened. Con was
very much shocked on hearing of poor Peter Ber-
gen's death, and as soon as he could get away in
the evening, he went to Mr. Coulter's to see if
Winny would go with him to the wake. Winny
had not even heard of the boy's death, and her
heart was sore for the poor mother already bent to
the earth with manifold afBiclion.

" Lord bless me. Con dear, how did it happen, 9t
Btl ?" said she; " was he sick, or was it an accident,

or what ?"

" Not a know I know, Winny, only that when I

went
in a \
woul
some
and s
once
"C
thont
she's
knew

I'll ji
you f

Aw
famil;
ter w
and i
com ft
husba
oonte
one f
the 1<
pileo
whicl]
book)

"If
open
go ou
a friei
wiihl

EHIGRANT LIFE IN THE N'EW WORLD.

ft9

that woman
that you sea
)!• woman in-
ut this night
of Almighty
r see me taste
brandy shall
eaves me life.

B same listless
It was clear

, solemnly and

•a Bergen had
made of late

mont in Paul's

nner next day,
acquaintaneeH,
led. Con was
oor Peter Ber-
d get away in
er's to see if
wake. Winny
death, and her
already bent to

id it happen, ^
i it an accident,

oly that when I

went in there last night, poor Mrs. Bergen told me
in a whisper that Peter was very bad w4th her — she
wouldn't let mo stay a minute, because Paul and
some other men were drinkin' and playin' cards,
and she was afeard I couldn't well get away if they
once got a sight of me."

" God bless her," said Winny, fervently ; « it's a
thousand pities to see her amongst such a set, for
she's a decent, well-conducted woman, as ever I
knew, at home or abroad. If you sit down a minnit
I'll just run up and see if missis will let me {tq with
you for an hour or two."

Away went Winny to the front parlor, where the
family were all assembled after supper. Mrs. Coul-
ter was seated in a rooking-ohair, swaying herself to
and fro iu perpetual motion, while she fabricated a
comforter with large wooden knitting-pins. Her
husband sat right opposite, deeply immersed in the
contents of the evening paper. Their two daughters,
one fourteen and the other eleven, were studying
the lessons of the morrow, each with a formidable
pile of books before her, some of them of dimensions
which would have frightened our simple and less
bookish ancestors.

" If you please, ma'am," said Winny, holding the
open door by the handle, " would you just let me
go out for an hour or two with my brother ? There's
a friend of ours»that has a little boy dead, and we'd
wish to go to the wake awhile. I've the tea-things

"^ I

OOK o'regan ; OR,

•11 washed up, ma'am, and Leah says she'll do any-
thing you may want done till I come back."

" But these x/akes, Winny," said Mrs. Coulter,
very gravely, " I have always heard that they are
very bad, indeed. I have never allowed any of my
Irish help to attend wakes, and I really fear I must
refuse. I don't see why you Irish will keep up these
old heathenish practices in a civilized country."

" Well, ma'am, it's an old custom at home," re-
turned Winny, hardly able to keep in her tears, " and
we can't give it up here where we're all amongst
strangers, as one may say. Death is always lone-
some, ma'am, and it's a kind of a comfort to them
that has it in the house to see their friends about
them. But I suppose I'm not to go, m&'am, so I
may let Con go by himself?"

"No, you shan't, Winny," said Mr. Coulter,
speaking for the first time ; " Mrs. Coulter, ma'am,
you'll oblige me by allowing Winny to go."

The girls, too, chimed in to the same tune, for
they both liked the gentle, good-natured Irish girl,
and Mrs. Coulter was forced to yield, though she
did it with a very bad grace. " You may go then
for this time," said she to Winny, " but remember
you must never ask to go to another wake so long
as you are in my family."

" If I can help it I won't, ma'am," said Winny,
with quiet humor as she closed the door and with-
drew. Leaving her master and mistress to talk the
matter over at their leisure, let us follow Winny

and

som(

asset

Paul

bacoi

own

wall

tures

sheet

last ;

in th(

poses

ende£

linen

prese

btronj

or m(

berea

oasua!

spoke

sat w

rockir

pracli

and h(

*ao

ii of frc
toHend
oandlei
■nohoc

he'll do any-

.ack."

drs. Coulter,

,hat they are

ed any of my

y fear I must

keep up these

jountry."

at home," re-

er tears, " and

) all amongst

always lone-
ifort to them

friends about
, m&'am, so I

Mr. Coulter,
3ulter, ma'am,

go."

ime tune, for
red Irish girl,
d, though she

1 may go then
l)ut remember
wake 80 long

" said Winny,
ioor and with-
ess to talk the
foUow Winny

■MIORANT LIFB IN THE NKW WORLD.

and her brother to the Jjouse of death. They found
some six or eight men and nearly as many women
assembled in Paul Bergen's subterraneous residence.
Paul himself was just placing some pipes and to-
bacco on a table, and Nora sat at the head of her
own bed whereon the corpse was laid out. The
wall beyond the bed was hung with religious nio-
tures, furnished by the neighbor women, and the
sheets on the bed were of well-bleached linen, the
last poor remains of some comfortable homestead
in the old country, carefully treasured for such pur-
poses as the present, for the Irish peasantry always
endeavor, if possible, to have, or at least procure,
linen sheets for laying out their dead.* Every one
present seemed grave and collected, under the
strong impression that this was no time for laughter
or merriment. All sympathized deeply with the
bereaved parents, and if any one volunteered some
casual remark on an indifferent subject, it was
spoken in an under tone.

Nora seemed utterly heedless of all around, and
sat with her clasped hands resting on her knees,
rocking herself to and fro in that peculiar way
practised by Irish mourners, her eyes cast down
and her lips firmly compressed as though to keep iu

* Bo common nnd so well recogolzed is this practioe, that it
is of freqaent occurrence in all parts of Ireknd for the realthy
to «end every article required, linen sheets and pillow-cases,
oandlesllcks, Ac, to accommodate their poorer neighbors on
noh occasions, and enable them to lay out the corpse deeeatly

CON O^REOAN : OR,

the wild bnrst of sorrow that her heart ever and
anon dictated. The entrance of Con and Winny,
however, attracted her attention, for she could not
avoid hearing Paul as he accosted them by name.
Raising her heavy eyes to Winny's face she was
touched by her look of heartfelt sympathy, and
reaching out her hand to her she bmst into a hyste-
rical fit of weeping as she pointed to the bed.
Winny and her brother knelt by the bed-side to
offer up a prayer for the departed soul, and having
discharged that pious duty they took their plaoea
in silence. By and by Mrs Bergen said to Con :

" Won't you oome and look at him, Con ? — you
never had a sight of him when he was livin', for he
■wasn't in the house the day you were here, and last
night you didn't see him either." As she spoke she
raised the thin muslin covering from off the face,
and Con and Winny were both struck with the
uncommon beauty of the boy. His face was like
that of a fair statue lying in the still attitude of
death, and his long dark hair was oprefully combed
back, leaving a high, well-formed ijrehead visible.
It was a brow that a phrenologist would have loved
to look upon, but its fair smooth surface was marred
and broken by a gaping, unseemly out on the left
temple. Neither Winny nor her brother could
restrain their tears as they gazed, and the deep sob*
of the remorseful father were heard from behind.
No one spoke for a mcment, till at length Coo
obterTed :

moi
Pet
dea
A
clot
her
poo
the
mak

a lo

alw£

too,

low-

with

was

wor]

to Ic

of hi

it wi

day

from

com!

vaga

Woul

jp a

It sti

WOUI

lUIOBANT UFK IN THE NKW WORLD,

irt ever and
and Winny,
be could not
jm by name,
face she was
mpathy, and
into a hyste-
to the bed.
I bcd-Bide to
il, and having
their places
d to Con :
1, Con ? — you
livin', for he
here, and last
she spoke she
off the face,
uck with the
face was like
1 attitude of
efully combed
ehead visible,
tld have loved
ce was marred
lit on the left
jrother could
the deep sobs
i from behind,
t length Oon

" He was very like yourself, Mrs. Bergen."
" Like what I once was," she answered, with a
mournful smile, " but far, far purtier. Oh, Peter !
Peter! it can't be you that's lyin' there— dead-
dead— and that ugly wound on your poor forehead I"
A IVesh burst of weeping followed. She let tha
cloth fall on the dead face, and sank once more into
her seat. Con then ventured to ask Paul how th«
poor boy liad come by his death. Paul was saved
the painful task of answering by Larry Tierney, who,
making an admonitory gesture to Con, gave him, in
a low voice, the desired information.

"Tou see," said he, "poor Peter was ever and
always a stirrin' lad-and full of good-nature he wae,
too, they toll me, au' the makin' of a fine, clever fel-
low— but still, as I was sayin', he had a stirrin' way
with him, an' was sure to be into any mischief that
was goin'— well, the way that it is with us poor
workin' people here in the city, we have no great time
to look after our children, and poor Peter was most
of his time on the streets, where you may guess that
it wasn't the best company he took up with. The
day that he got this unlucky blow he had been out
from the time he got his breakfast in the mornin', and
comin' on the evenin', he got a squabblin' with some
vagabond boys about something or another, an' what
would you have of it but one of the young imps took
ap a sharp stone and flung it right at Peter's head.
It struck him on the temple there where you saw the
wound, an' the poor fellow dropped down dead, aa

'r4

CON O'RKfcKtf ; OR,

every one thonght. But he wasn't dead, for he came
to himself while the wound was a-dressing, and if it
hadn't been for a swill of gin that poor Paul gave
him when he was in his cups last night, he miglit
have lived, for the doctor that he was taken to before
he was brought home, examined the wound, an' said
it would hardly kill him. So you see it's a bad busi-
ness altogether."

" Bad enough, indeed," said Con, while Winny,
•who had been also a listener, wiped away the big
tears that would not be kept in, — " tell me this,
honest man, do you think Paul has enough to bury
the child ?"

" I'm afeard not," said Larry, with a rueful shake
of the head. He then proceeded to inform Con how
Paul had been fined for that unlucky affair at the
dance, and how he spent most of what he earned
*' very foolishly," but Larry did not tell how he him-
self had won nearly two dollars of the residue of
Paul's funds on the previous night. Another man
here interposed, and told Con in the same cautious
tone that they were aaking up enough to pay the
expenses of the funeral. " It's all amongst ourselves,
you know," said he, " and we have nearly what we
want now. Not one has refused us yet only that
rap Phil McDermot — an' it ill became him to refuse,
the white-livered spalpeen — him that has got so
much of poor Paul's hard earnin' in his time." Ha
had unconsciously raised bis voioe in giving utter-
ance to this philippic.

" wlia

friend

afler i

counti

Pau

the fui

in the

headb(

Paul I

that I

oharac

direct!

shilling

was tbi

" An' V

that n

made n

my poc

and nol

McD

meant,

offence,

and lef

offering

■hape

a(l, for he came
ssing, and if it
oor Paul gave
ight, he might
;aken to before
round, an' said
it's a bad busi-

while Winny,
I away the big
" tell me this,
nough to bury

a rueful shake
iform Con hovir
:y affair at the
'hat he earned
bII how he him-
tbe residue of
Another man
I same cautious
ugh to pay the
ngst ourselves,
learly what we
1 yet only that
B hint to refuse,
at has got so
his time." Ha
in giving ntter-

EMrCHANT MFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

T»

"What's that you say?" said Paul Bergen;
" what about Phil McDermot ?"

"Oh! nothing worth speakin' of," replied his
friend ; " a decent man ought to wipe his mouth
after mentionin' his name— he's a disgrace to the
country he came from, so he is !"

Paul inquired no further at that time, but when
the funeral was over, and poor Peter laid decently
m the Catholic burying-ground with a little white
headboard bearing his name and age in black letters,
Paul made it his business to find out what it was
that Phil McDermot had done to merit such a
character. On hearmg what had happened, he went
directly and paid that respectable individual a few
shillings which he owed him, assuring him that that
was the last money he should ever receive from him
"An' withal," said he, "you have given me a lesson
that I'll never forget. Sorrow and misfortune have
made me a wise man, and for the time to come it's
my poor family that'll get the good of my earnings,
and not the likes of you."

McDermot would have inquired what all this
meant, declaring himself innocent of any intentional
offence, but Paul would not hear a word from him,
and left the house, indignantly refusing the peace-
offering which Phil would have had him take in th«
■hape of " a glass."

t«

CON o'resan ; oa.

aa
ing
•wit
wai

CHAPTER V.

About a week after the death of Peter Bergen,
Mr. Coulter on returning from dinner one day told
Con that Winny wished to see him immediately.

" To see me," repeated Con, in a faint voice ;
" why, sir, is there anything wrong with her?"

" Don't be frightened, Con," said his employer, in
a kind tone; " I believe there is nothing serious, but
she don't feel very weH, and — and — in fact, she
thinks of going to the hospital !". The worthy man's
hesitation proceeded from his unwillingness to tell
what was really the case, that his wife insisted on
Winny's removal without delay. His own kind
heart recoiled from the idea of sending to an hospi-
tal the girl who bad served them so faithfully for
four years, especially as her disease had nothing in
it that could excite fear of infection.

" To the hospital, sir I" cried Con, his face pale as
•shes, for the Irish people have, above all others, an
instinctive horror of hospitals ; " oh, then indeed,
it's low enough Winny is when she'd go to an hos*
pital. May I go now, if you please, sirf
" Certainly, Con ; go as soon as you can."

Co
wa
an(

rec

wa
{
int
kit
inf
lie
6v
ha
to
W

*
m«

ro;

g«

KMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

Peter Bergen,
ir one day told
nmediately.
a faint voice;
ithher?"
is employer, in
ng serious, but
[ — in fact, she
e worthy man'a
lingncss to tell
ife insisted on
His own kind
ng to an hoapi-

faithfully for
bad nothing in

his face pale as
re all others, an
), then indeed,

1 go to an hoB«

sirT

Poor Con could hardly wait to fetch his hat from
an inner room, but having secured it, he was hasten-
ing away with a heart full of sorrow, and throbbing
with impatience to se'o Winny, when at the door he
was tnet Toy Mr. Wood, who accosted him with :
" What's all this, O'Regan— where are you going?"
" I'm gbin' down to Mr. Coulter's, sir," replied
Con, eirasively ; " he sent me himself;'' and without
waiting for further interrogation, he brushed past
and was some way down the street before Mr. Wood
recovered from his surprise.

"What a confounded smart chap he is!" was
Wood's mental soliloquy, " one would suppose he
was running for a wager."

On reaching the house, Con was ushered by Leah
into a small room, or rather closet adjoining the
kitchen, where he found his sister in bed, and look-
ing so pale and emaciated that he could hardly be-
lieve it to be the same Winny he had seen foax or
five days before. But when Winny held out her
hand to him with that sweet mournful smile peculiar
to herself, he burst into tears and cried : " Wiuny,
Winny, what's come over you at all?"

" Sit down there on that chair, Con, tnd I'll tell
vou. There's something gatherin' on we this twel'-
month and better — something like a smotherin' on
my chest, an' a great pain in my left side — still I
didn't like to tell you, because I was in hopeb it
would \^fli!ff.-awaj«J)Ut instead o' that, it's what it's

u can.

i»

gettin' ]|

day, an' this last weak I

«8

CON UEOAN : OR,

have hardly had a minute's peace. Tlie mistress
used to say all along that it was only imagination,
and Bomelimos she'd tell me it was making believe I
was — that's what we call schemin', Con, but since I had
to take to w/ hod entirely — that wa^ last night — her
whole trouble is to get me away to the hospital, for,
even if it's nothing taking I havt , she says there's
no way here for me, and that I mu!?t get off this
very day, for she wants to get in another girl in my
place."

Con's tears had not ceased to flow during this re-
cital, protracted as it was by the many breaks which
Winny's weakness rendered necessary. " The master
said something," said he, " about you going to the
hospital, but he cut it very short, and sent me off
here to you."

" Ah ! the blessing of God be about him now and
forever," said Wiuny with moiitcaed eyes, " it isn't
with his will I'm going to the hospital. Leah tells
me that himself and the mistress had a great debate
about it, and he told her it was a burnin' shame to
send me out, but at last he had to give in, for she
took on at a great rate, and then, when he could do
no better, he came and bid me good-bye, and slipped
this ten dollar bill into my hand to help to pay my
expenses in the hospital. If he was one of ourselves,
a thousand times over, he couldn't be kinder than he
is and has been to me, — and mind. Con, I lay it on
you, whether I live or die, that you'll do Mr. Coulter
a good tarn if eve' you have it in your power.''

Wii

ter

frici

Wii

tioE

me.

you
it a
live
ban
the
tha
firs

Bpt

ed
hal
W

is i

(

aft
wl
ha
th(
"I
m(
an

tyU^P/"" LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

le mistresfl
magination.
ig believe I
t since I had
night — her
ospital, for,
(ays there's
»et oflf this
• girl in my

•ing this re-
•caks which
The master
jing to the
ent me oflf

m now and
es, " it isn't

Leah tells
reat debate
n' shame to

in, for she
le could do
and slipped
I to pay my
f ourselves,
der than he
I lay it on
Mr. Coulter
over.*'

This made Con's tears flow afresh, but he assured
Winny that he f«U as grateful himself to Mr. Coul-
ter as she did, and would always consider him a
friend. " But for God's sake don't talk of dying,
Winny," he added, his voice quivering with emo-
tion ; " don't now, an' I'll do anything at all you ask

me."

" We'2 ! well ! Con, I'm not dead yet, anyhow, and
you know very well that my talking of it won't bring
it about— if it's the will of God I'll die, and if not I'll
live— so don't be cast down. Con— leave it all in the
hands of God, and then take whatever happens for
the best. But you must get a carriage or something
that way, and take me to the hospital— that's the
first thing to be done."

This made Con tremble all over. He tried to
spi.ik but the words stuck in his throat, and he forc-
ed a cough in order to clear his voice ; taking up his
hat, I ' said: "Well! I suppose I must see about it.
Where's the— the hospital, Winny, or what hospital
is it?— hem!"

•'There's a charity-hospital, Con," said Winny,
after taking a draught of cold water from a mug
which stood on a chair beside the bed, «' where we
have to pay nothing at all, and our own '^lergy go
there regular— it's true," she added, hesitatingly,
"I'd rather not go in on charity so 1 >ng as I have
means to pay, but what I have wouldn't last long,
and, besides, if I die.l you'd want it to bury me."
All this was said in a quick, hurried voice, as if

CON REOAK ; OR,

Winny wanted to get through with it, and when ehe
had ended, she drew a long breath, as if relieved of
a heavy burthen.

"Well, but don't you know, Winny," said her
brother eagerly, " that I have ten dollars by me, and
jon have Mr. Coulter's ten dollars — that makes
twenty, you see, besides your own."

" And do you think, Con, that I'd let you spend
your ten dollars that way, an' you wantin' so badly
to send it home ? — no, indeed, not a penny of it. In-
stead of that I thought I'd be able to help you to
send for Biddy and the children, but I suppose that's
all over — well, wc must only do the best we can, and
leave the rest to God."

Con went off at length, commisaioned by Winny
to do as he liked, " and God direct him for the best."
So he found out the hospital after a long search, and
made arrangements to have Winny admitted ; then
procured a carriage, and, wrapping Winny up in her
warmest clothes, kindly assisted by Leah, he re-
moved her from the house that had been her dwell-
ing for four long years, with nothing more than a
cold " good-bye" from Mrs. Coulter, who graciously
descended to the door to see her ofil

" Good-bye, Winny." said the laJy ; " I hope
you'll be well soon. Take good care of yourself."
And with this admonition she closed the door, and
returned to her luxurious parlor, where she soon
forgot all about Winny in the fascination of the last
new novel.

Poc

in on(

first c

"Got

your V

see m<

ger of

get tb

Kow,

that h

but a I

day, b

morro'

turninj

evenin^

on, an(

now, C

hand, \

" go n

about I

as you

"I ^

be lea

poor g

from hi

about i

back to

ter was

been.

Saturdf

MIOIUNT UrE IH THE NEW WORI.I),

, and when she
if relieved of

ny," said her
irs by jne, and
— that makes

let you spend
atin' SQ badly
jnny of it. In-
to help you to
suppose that's
ist we can, and

icd by Winny
I for the best."
Hg search, and
Smitted; then
inny up in her
Leah, he re-
een her dwell-
r more than a
?ho graciously

Jy; "I hope
i of yourself."
the door, and
here she soon
;ion of the last

Poor Winny was very soon comfortably settled
in one of the wards of the hospital, and then her
first care was to have Con bring her the priest.
" Go to Father Timlin," said she, " before you go to
your work, and ask him if he can at all to come and
see me, Tell him," said she, " that there's no dan-
ger of death— at least very soon— but it's well to
get the rites of the Church as soon as possible.
Now, Con, don't cry that way— you know very well
that having the priest won't make me any worse,
but a great deal better. Maybe he can't come to-
day, but if not, I hope he'll try and come to-
morrow. And, do you hear, Con," for he was
turning away in speechless sorrow, « go down this
evening, and see how poor Mrs. Bergen is getting
on, and bring me word when you come again. Go,
now, Con," and she reached out her thb, skinny
hand, which her brother squeezed between his own ;
" go now, and God bless you ! Don't be fiettin'
about me, but pray for mo, and come again as soon
as you oan."

" I will, Winny !" was all that Con could say, as
he left the room, not daring to look again at the
poor girl, who had all along endeavored to conceal
from him the actual extent of her suffering. It was
about four o'clock in the afternoon when Con got
back to the warehouse, and, finding that Mr. Coul-
ter was out, he said nothing about where he had
been. No questions were asked of him, but when
Saturday evening carao round, Con found that he

CON o'regan ; OR,

was paid half a day short. " Well 1" said he to himself
" I wasu't half a day away, but then I suppose it's all
right. I mustn't say anything about this to Mr
Coulter for I know very well he'd make a fass, and
there's no use in the like of that. I'll get over the
loss."

When Con went to see Mrs. Bergen, on the even-
ing of the day on which Winny went to the hospital,
he was agreeably surprised to find her much more
cheerful than he had seen her since he came to
America. Paul was silting at the table reading, and
laying down his book on Con's entrance, he came
forward ♦.o meet him with outstretched hand.

<' You look as if you hardly thought it was me was
in it," said Paul, ^vith a smile that he wished to
make a cheerful one, but could not succeed — it was
a wintry smile, at best, for grief was still heavy at
his heart, " and I don't wonder at your bein' sur-
prised, for I almost wonder at myself to be at homo
e'er an evenin' without some pot-companions helpin'
me to make a beast of myself Sit down, Con, an'
take air of the fire."

" Yes, Con," said Nora, as she in her turn, shook
hands with the visitor, *'you see we have a good
fire now, an' what's more, we have plenty to eat an'
drink, an' best of all, Con, we have peace ar' iiet-
ness. Thanks an' praises ba to God, if He afflicts us
in one way He makes up for it in another."

" Well, I'm sure," said Con, " you all look twenty
pounds better than you did last week, and more of

k!i ' ^i!yM. n ) f ^lffwffl.mmJm%^o

Kii?^*Anj»-

id he to himBelf
[ suppose it's all
lut this to Mr
aake a fnsa, and
I'll get over the

en, on the even-
t to the hospital,
her much more
ice he came to
ible reading, and
trance, he came
bed hand,
lit it was me was
t he wished to
succeed — it was
as still heavy at

your bein' sur-
ilf to be at homo
mpanions helpin'

down, Ccn, an'

[ her turn, shook
we have a good
plenty to eat an'
peace ar' ;iiet-
;, if He afflicts us
1 other."

I all look twenty
iek, and more of

EMIGRANT UFE IN THE NKW WORLD.

that to you, I pray God." He did not think it ex.
pediont to inquire how such a change was effected
all at once, but Nora anticipated his curiosity.

"I see," said she, « you don't like to ask how all
this was brought about, but I'm sure you can't but
guess, Paul has never tasted a drop of any kind
since— since our heavy loss— an' he went to his duty
the very day after the funeral, an' he's to go again
towards the end of the week. So, with God's help,
there's no fear of him but he'll keep from the liquor
now. I declare to you, Con O'Rcgan, it's in heaven
we are ever since, an' you'd wonder at how easy we
find it to get the little wants of the house, though
It's only a week since Paul left off drinking."

"And sure Patsey and Jim go to school, and me,
too," said Jane, anxious to communicate a share of
the good news."

" Well, indeed, I'm proud an' happy to hear it,"
said Con, " especially as I have bad news myself."

" How is that ?" cried Paul and Nora in a breath ;
" is there anything wrong with Winny ?"

" Indeed then the o is," said Con, with a heavy
sigh . " I left her in the hospital this afternoon."

" The Lord save us I an' what in the world is the
matter with her ?"

"Well, mysslf doesn't rightly know, but I'm
afeard it's decHue. If it isn't, it'u very like it, though
I didn't say so to her. She wanted so badly to know
how you were all getting on here that I had to pro-
raise I'd come and sec yon this evening."

«.'e'jsas«i»^[WM»-.

/'y

CON O'REGAN ; OR,

"Poor Winny, it's just like her," said Paul.
" Ycu must go and see her to-morrow, Nora — that
is, if you're able at all."

" Oh I I'm able to go further than that, never fear,
and if I were weaker than I am now, I'd make my
way to see Winny O'Regan, an' her sick among tlio
cowld strangers in an hospital. No one knows but
God Almighty and myself how much I owe to that
same giil. Many and many's the time she brought
me comfort when I had very little, though dear
knows I used to scold her often for layin' out her
penny of money on me that had my husband earnin'
good wages every week of his life."

" The wages were good enough, Nora," said Paul
quickly, " but you weren't much the better of them,
and poor Winny knew that well enough. But never
mind, Nora, with God's help, your darkest days are
past, never to come back again."

" God grant they may, Paul, but remember no
days are to say dark for me if you only keep Bob<jr,
and set these poor children a good example. I can
bear poverty, and sickness, and hard work— anything
at all that God is pleased to send, but drunkenness,
and cursin', and swearin', and all such things, and
seein' my little place filled so ox'ten with graceless
vagabonds— that's worse than death to me, and so
long as I don't see any of it about me, I'm ready for
anything that comes across."

" Well, well, Nora," said her husband, "there's no
Use ia nsakin' too many promises, but I tell you ovef

Kgam
since
gust i
me u|
never
hurry

"O
have I

Fai
day t(
there
tain 1
insist)
ny as!
for 80
to do

"N
much
have,
as yo
towar
scy w
till I I
—just
keep ;

As"
while
tlirpu|
the ol
time I

ler," said Paul,
row, Nora — that

I that, never fear,
v, I'd make my
r sick among the

one knows but
ich I owe to that
time she brought
tie, though dear
or layin' out her
y husband earnin'

Nora," said Paul
lG better of them,
lough. But never
• darkest days are

)Ot remember po

1 only keep sober,
1 example. I can
d work — anything

but drunkennesH,
I such thinge, and
,en with graceless
ith to me, and so

me, I'm ready for

sband, " there's no
but I tell you ovef

EMIGRANT UFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

8ft

tgain that there's a great change m my mmd ever
since the night that poor Peter died- -I feel a div
gust in me for the liquor and them that used to heip
me up with my bad doings, and, please God, you'll
never see me as you have seen me. But what's your
hurry, Con?" seeing him stand up and take his hat.

"Oh, well, it's drawing near nine clock, and I
have to be up early in the morning. Good night."

Faithful to her promise went Nora Bergen next
day to the hospital to see Winny, and when she left
there some half hour after, she had with her a cer-
tain bundle containing Winny's clothes, which she
insisted on taking home to wash. In vain did Win-
ny assure her that she had plenty of under-clothes
for some weeks to come, and that she had too much
to do already for her own family.

"No matter for that," said Nora, " I haven't so
much to do but I can M'ash the few things you'll
have, and, please God, I'll do it every week ar long
as you're here. If I can, I'll bring them m, self
towards the end of the week, but if not, I'll send ?at-
sey with them. So God be with you, Winny dtar,
till I see you again. Mind, now, and get well soon
--just make your mind as easy as you can, and don't
keep yourself back with fretting and pining."

As for poor Con, he could hardly hold up his head
while Winny's case was still undecided. He went
tlirpiigh his M'ork with ihechanioal exactness, but
the cheerful spirit that sustained him was for tho
time broken. One thought was over present to hit

CON o'rcoan ; OR,

minci, thtit he was about to lose the eister who had
done to much for him and his; the eister who was
the solo bond between him and the pleasant past
that lay smiling far away in the haze of time ; the
one true friend to whom he could confide all his
troubles, ever sure of obtaining both sympathy and
advice. What was to become of him in that dreary
ocean of a city if Winny died, and died amongst
strangers, to be buried in a foreign soil where no
kindred dust awaited her? Full of these moumfnl
thoughts, Con moved through the routine of his
daily duties, feeling like one whose heart was dead
within him. Weeks and weeks passed away thus,
and Winny's little funds were all gone, and after
them went Con's ten dollars, for it was he that
always paid the hospital expenses, so that Winny
knew nothing of what they amounted to. Things
began to look black with Con, for he had now no
resource but to draw his own wages in advance, a
thing he had a great reluctance to do. But there
was no alternative, so Con took heart of grace and
asked Mr. Coulter if he wouldn't be pleased to give
him a few dollars in advance at his next payment.

Mr. Coulter knitted his brows, and began to look
very cross — eyeing Con through his spectacles, ha
demanded : " What do you want the money for ?— ■
I thought you had some saved — eh '"'

" Well, to tell you the truth, si."," said Con blush
Ing like a young maiden, " I had a little money-
ten dollars of so — but it's all gone, and Winny's,

too, R

good

woulc

now

afearc

week

Mr,
took i
wont
iously
what
}y sto
sharp'

"A
thoug

Coi
" It ci
get b
senter
chief,
bis tej

Mr.
resum
there
hiddei

"Y
peoph
plobe.
Winn;
monej

^.UIORANT LIFE IN THE NBW WORLD,

8ter who had
ster who was
pleasant past
I of time; the
lonfide all his
sympathy and
in that dreary
died amongst
soil where no
dese mourn fnl
■outine of his
eart was dead
ed away thus,
)ne, and afler

was he that
o that Wii)ny
i to. Things
B had now no
in advance, a
3. But there
, of grace and
leased to give
xt payment,
began to look

spectacles, ha
money for?— <

«d Con blush
ittlo money—
and Winny's,

loo, since she went to the hospital. So if you'd be
good enough, sir, to advance me a few dollars, it
would serve me very much, fbr I have no other way
now of paying for poor Winny. You needn't be
afeard, sir, for you know you can stop a dollar a
week out of ray wages till it's paid up."

Mr. Coulter put his hands behind his back, and
took a few turns around the small room, as was his
wont when lost in thought. Con watched him anx-
iously, fearing that he was about to refuse, and then,
what was he to do ? But not so, Mr. Coulter sudden-
ly stopped short in front of Con, and said, rather
sharply :

"And pray how long is this to go on?— have you
thought of that in your wisdom ?"

Con's voice was husky with emotion as he replied :
" It can't last much, longer, sir. Either Winny will
get better soon, or— or" — he could not finish the
sentence, but turning away, took out hi \ handker-
chief, and pretended to use it, in order to conceal
Lis tears.

Mr. Coulter said nothing for a few minutes, but
resumed his march as before. When he did speak
there was something in his voice that told of some
hidden feeling which his words belied.

" You, Irish,'* said he, " are the moat improvident
people, I do believe, on the face of this habitable
globe. Here, now, you might as well have placed
Winny in the free hospital, and have saved your
money and hers. But I see there is no suoh thing

CON O'REOAN ; OH,

as teaching yon prudence or economy — ^here is a ten
dollar bill — go off now to your work, and say noth-
ing of this to Mr. Pirns on Saturday night — that is,
unless he speaks of it himself Which is ^^ry un-
likely," added the merchant to himself, " inasmuch
as he shall never know anything of it."

Con would have thanked his generous employer
but his thanks were cut short with a stern command
to go about his business — there was no need of thanks.

Now the only time that Con could visit his sister
during the whole period of her illness, was just at
dinner-hour, as there was no admission for visitors
either early in the morning or late in the evening,
and it was his practice on the days that he went to
see her, to content himself with a few mouthfuls of
anything he could get, in order to have time for his
visit. On the day in question, he provided himself
with a few crackers, and hurried away to the hos-
pital as soon as twelve o'clock struck. How great
was his joy to find Winny much better, and more
cheerful than he had seen her since her removal to
the hospital. She told him the doctor had just been
there and had declared her decidedly better. " He
says," she added, " that all I want now is care and
proper nourishment. So you see, Oon, I'm worth
two dead people yet, though I know very well you
were making up your mind thi^ time back to let me
go."

ITer brother's joy was too deep for words. lie
could only shake the emaciated hand held oat to

him, a

paid I

under]

again

of Wii

"Ai

again

God's

we bo

back-s

Nov

not lik

both p

it, exc(

do on

then h

sprang

time, ^

take g(

mend in

it's one

As s

house a

the fav(

A^d, th(

it was (

pleased

From

provem

week sb

BMIORANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

8«

my — ^here is a ten
rk, and say noth-
ay night — that is,
'hich is Very nn-
nself, " inasmuch

it."
nerous employer

a stern command
no need of thanks,
lid visit his sister
ness, was jast at
ssion for visitors
e in the evening,
a that he went to
few mouthfuls of

have time for his
provided himself

away to the hos-
uck. How great
better, and more
se her removal to
otor had just been
idly better. " He
t now is care and
, Oon, I'm worth
ow very well you
mc back to let me

} for words. He
hand held oat to

him, and squeeaed it hard, hard. That moment re-
paid htm for all the sorrow, all the anxiety he had
undergone, and he felt as if nothing could ever
again make him repine, since there was a prospect
of Winny being restored to him.

"And now," said Winny, " we may begin to talk
again of getting Biddy out, and the children. With
God's help I'll be round again, very soon, and when
we both lay our heads together, we'll get over this
back-set. How much money have we now, Con P"
'Now this was a puzzling question, for Con did
not like to tell his sister all at once that they were
both penniless, and yet he knew not how to evade
it, except by stating a falsehood, which he could not
do on any account. To his great relief, he just
then heard a neighboring clock strike one, and Con
sprang up at once, saying: "I'll tell you some other
time, Winny, Good-bye, now, and be sure you
take good care of yourself, now that you're on the
mendin' hand. I must be oflf to ray work, for there
it's one o'clock."

As soon as Mr. Coulter returned to the ware,
house aller dinner. Con hastened to let him know
the favorable change that had taken place in Winny,
ansd, though the old gentleman spoke but few words,
it was quite clear from his manner that he was well
pleased to hear the news.

From that day forward, there was a visible im^
provement in Winny's health, and in the course of a
week she was able to sit up a little every day. Her

•0

CON o'bkgan ; OB,

recovery, however, was not very rapid, bo that two
weeks more had elapsed before she was discharged
from the hospital. Mrs. Bergen came on the day
appointed for Winny's removal, and helped to dress
her as though she were a little child.

" And now," said Winny, " that I'm ready to go,
where am I to go to ?" She smiled as she spoke,
but her smile was a sad one.

" "Where would you go to," retorted Nora, " but
to our house ? It's a little more comfortable than
it used to be, thanks be to God, an' if you'll just put
up with it, you'll be as welcome as if you were our
own child. Not a word now— not one word, but
bid good-bye to the nurses and let us be off."

Opposition here would have been an unpardonable
offence, as Winny knew very well, so she had no-
thing for it but to do her friend's bidding, and fol-
low her down the stairs submissive as a little child.
"When the children came home from school in the
afternoon, Mrs. Bergen sent Patsey to inform Con
of his sister's whereabouts, and when evening came
he made his appearance, looking the very picture of
contentment.

" Well, now," said he, " if we only had Biddy and
the children here, sure enough we'd be as happy aa
kings and queens."

"And maybe a great deal happier," observed
Winny ; " riches can't buy happiness any more than
they can buy health. That's one comfort for the
poor." Winny had never heard of the truism :

" Uue:

was ^

" Blesi

never

for mc

and as

"Iv

Paul;

Barne]

tunate

ed wil

there's

a hard

the mo

ooort, 1

even tl

of ther

faces.

isn't it

sperit i

as we (

"TLi

seems 1

what v

And P

since I

"Wl

«W1

could (

many s

)id, 80 that two
was discharged
amc on the day
helped to dresB
I.

I'm ready to go,
id as she spoke,

■ted Nora, " but
omfortable than
if you'll just put
if you were our
t one word, but
U9 be off."
an unpardonable
80 she had no-
bidding, and fol-
: as a little child,
im school in the
y to inform Con
leu evening came
e very picture of

y had Biddy and
d be as happy as

ppier,'

observed

ss any more than
comfort for the
of the trnism :

EMIGRANT UFK IN THE NEW WORLn.

" Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown," but she
was well acquainted with the Christian axiom:
"Blessed are the poor in spirit," and hence she
never dreamed of envying the rich, nor of sighing
for more than her allotted portion of earth's goods,
and assuredly her portion was a small one.

" I was just thinking of poor Tom Derragh," said
Paul; "what do you think, Con, but himself and
Barney Brady are lyin' in jail ever since that unfor-
tunate dance. God help us for poor Irish," he add-
ed with a heavy sigh. "We're foolish enough,
there's no denyin' it, but then there's no one to take
a hard word off us— our failings are sure to be made
the most of. If you'd just hear the people in the
coort, the mornin' that we were all tried, ay I indeed,
even the very lawyers, ridiculln' the Irish, an' some
of them takin' off our way of speakin' to our very
faces. But after all," said Paul, thoughtfully, " sure,
isn't it our own fault ? If we had only the proper
sperit in us we wouldn't lave ourselves in their power
as we do "

" That's true enough," said Con, " but still there
seems to be something in their mind against us. Do
what we will, the most of them are down on ua.
And Paul, do you know what I was often thiukin
since I came here ?"
" What's that. Con ?"

" Why, that there must be .-.ome place where we
could do better than we do here. You see how
many strong, healthy Irishmen there are in this very

CON O'UKOAN ; OR,

city, wearing away their lives at hard work of every
kind an' spending their money just as they make it
-aometimes before ifs made-and living in holes
and corners, wherever they can get a place to stick

themselves and their families into "

••Just like us. Con," said Paul, with a good-hn-
mored smile, " barrowin' like rabbits down in the
ground. But there's thousands of our poor country
people worse off even than we are," he added, with
much feeling. " Yon haven't seen them half as bad
as they are. If you knew the state they're in as well
as I do, then you might talk. Why, there's houses
in this very city, Con, where there's ten or twelve
Irish families in one house, an' not a very big house,
either. An' as for the drinkiu' and boozin' and
fightin', that oomes from there being so many of
them cramped up together, there would be no use
, in me tryin' to .ell it to you, for I couldn't. What
you saw hero in my mad fits was nothing at all m
comparison. Dear knows, Oon, there's some great
change wanted among us— however it may be
brought about."

«' Why don't some of you go to the country ( m-
quired Con; "wouldn't you get work out on the

farms?"

"Well, I suppose so," said Paul, "but I know
Bome that tried it, and they didn't seem to like it
very well. The farms all round here belong to
Americans, and wherever they can get their own to
work for them, they'll not have others. They're no

bettei

than th
is v'ith
He
try to 1
I think
Home !
you evi

Con
"You
como-! (

"W<
ful ton
Paul,
short c
he wou

All 1
had bei
" Isn't
people,
time t(
over 80
would
work y
and ou
so ma:
Avhere
laborei
countr;
most I

I work of every
as they make it
living in holes
I place to stick
_»»

nih a good- lin-
ts down in the
ur poor country
' he added, with
,hem half as bad
.hey're in as well
Y, there's houses
's ten or twelve
1 very big house,
and booziii' and
3ing so many of
vould be no use
couldn't. What
nothing at all in
lore's some great
ever it may be

the country ?" in-
work out on the

ul, "but

I know
t seem to like it
[ here belong to
I get their own to
hers. They're no

MIGRANT LIFE I.V THR XKW KOBt.n.

bettei friends to the Irish — these Yankee farmers—
than the townspeople — and yon see yourself how it
is with f/icnt. God help us, I say again !"

'' He will help us," sai'l Winny, softly, " if we only
try to help ourselves. Wo mustn't leave all to Him.
I think, Con dear, it's time you were movinj^ home — ■
Home !' she repeated, with a melancholy smile ; " will
you ever have a home ? — God only knows."

Con smiled and shook his head, bu said nothing.
" You must have one of some kind when Biddy
comes out," continued his sister.

" Well, I suppose so," said Con, in no very cheer-
ful tone, as he shock hands with Mrs. Bergen and
Paul. A heavy sigh escaped him, but ho forced a
short cough in order to conceal it, and t<)id Winny
he would come again on the following evening.

All the way home he was thinking of what Paul
had been saying, and he asked himself over and over,
" Isn't it a hard fate to be toiling forever for other
people, and never be putting anything by for the
time to come ? If a body had a bit of land now —
ever so little — that he could call his own — then there
w ould be some use in working — then every day's
work we did would be so much laid up for ourselves
and our families. Isn't it a queer thing ill out that
so many shut themselves up in tow7JS this way,
where most of them never rise higher than day-
laborers, and them all — one might say — used to a
country-life at home I Well now, I declare, that
mast be the great reason that they don't do welL

CON o'rkoan ; OR,

If God would only give me the chance of gettin*
Battled ou a farm, I think I'd be a happy man !"

Full of these thoughts Con lay down on his cot-
bed, after saying his prayers devoutly, and di-eamed
that he saw Biddy milking one of some half a
dozen fine cows, while he himself was tnreshing
wheat in a large barn.

chance of gettin*

happy man !"

down on his cot-

utly, and d ••earned

3 of somfe half a

elf "was tnreshing

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

I.I

1.25

;s ilia

•Is IIIIM

12.0
111^

U III 1.6

"'^.•^i'^

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

-0

^.^ .

^Q>

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, NY. 14580

(716) 872-4503

L<P

%^ i^.

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut canadien de microreproductions histv^riques

h(
tt
h(
fo
fo
oh

ba
yc
til
tb:
"<
on

Ti
ba
ab
W

KMIORANT LIFK IN THE NSW WORLD.

CHAPTER VI.

Thk first opportunity that "Wiuny got she renewed
her inquiry after the money, and heard with sorrow
that her brother's little hoard was gone as well as
her own. Not that Winny cared about the money
for its own intrinsic value, but because it delayed
for an indefinite time the sending for Con's wife and
children.

" Well, Con," said she, after a pause, " you wouldn't
take my advice, and put me in the free hospital. If
you had, I'd have been just as well now, and we'd
have had our penny of money safe. But sure I know
you done it all for the best, and there's no use fret-
tin' about what can't be brought back. But tell me

this. Con?" she added, withnewly-awakened anxiety,
" did you think of making an offering for the dead
on All Souls' Day ?"

"Indeed, then, I did, Winny!— I gave lather
Timlin a dollar with that intention, but you were so
bad at the time that I didn't care to say anything
about it to you. Oh! bedad, it would never do,
Winny, to forget them that can't do anything for
themselvea. If we did, we couldn't expect others to

99 coK o'rkgan ; or,

remember ua when it comes our turn to be in the

fiery prison."

" God bless you, Con, but it's you that has ever
and always the good thought I-I'm well pleased to
hear that you did what you ought to do that day,
and you may be sure you'll be nothing the poorer
of what you gave, at the year's end."

Mrs. Bergen here came in with something which
she had been purchasing at the market. It was Sa-
turday evening, and she had to wait for Paul's wages
before she could go to make her purchases for Sun-
day. Setting down her basket, she drew a long
breath, observing, with a smile, as she shook hands

with Con :

" It's hard work that for a person that's not very
strong, but sure it's thankful I am to have meat to
bring home. But whaL'a become of Paul, Wiuny ?"

"Oh! he's gone to see about making up that money
for Barney Brady's family. He thought Saturday
night was the best time to go out when the men
would all be after getting their wages."

"An' w'^o'8 gone with him ?" asked Nora, in visi-
ble trepidation.

"Andy Dwyer he called him. He seems a very

decent man."

"An' BO he is, Winny," said Mrs. Bergen, with re-
newed cheerfulness; " there's not much fear of Paul
falling in with bad company so long as Andy Dwyer'a
at his side. God forgive me ! I was afeard lie had
got in with some of the old set again!— Well, Oon,

1
t
1

■!

(

t
t

fa
•w

t'
t(

bI
n

• turn to be in the

8 you that has ever
-I'ln well pleased to
ght to do that day,
nothing the poorer
end."

th something which
market. It was Sa-
vait for Paul's wages
r purchases for Sup-
it, she drew a long
, as she thook hands

evson that's not very
[ am to have meat to
ue of Paul, Wiuny ?"
aaking up that money
le thought Saturday
out when the men
r wages."
" asked Nora, in visi-

ra. He seems a very

Mrs. Bergen, with re-
not much fear of Paul
long as Andy Dwyer's
I was afeard lie bad
at again !— Well, Con,

EMIGPANT LIKE IN THE KKW WORLD

•hat's the news? Don't you find this girl of oura
lookin' better than she did ?"

" Indeed, then, I do, Mrs. Bergen, she's coming
round nicely, thanks be to God. And after Him,"
he added, with a meaning smile, " I think there's
somebody else deservin' of thanks. Well ! well ! I
hope there's a good time coming! — we'll not be al-
ways as far behind as we are now. But I believe
it's most time to be on the road."

"Ah, then, sure you wouldn't think of going,
Con," put in Mrs. Bergen, " till you hear how Paul
and Andy got along with their collection j Lut, tut,
man, sit down — you'll be time enough this hour yet 1"

Con was easily persuaded, being really anxious to
hoar the result of Paul'c aritable undertaking.
All at once, Mrs. Bergen gave an exclamation of sur-
prise : " Why, Jane," addressing her daughter, " who
in the world scrubbed the floor ?"

" Why, indeed, mother, it was Winny that did it,"
>cplied the little girl, who sat by the stove with the
baby on her knee. "Baby woke up before you
were long gone, and I had to sit under him ever
since. So Winny went to work and scrubbed up
the floor while a body would be lookin' at it. I
told her she'd catch it when you'd come back, but
she wouldn't heed what I said, only laughed at
me."

This made Mrs. Bergen downright angry. " Well,
now, I tell you what it is, Winny O'Regan," said
•he, with a bright glow on her still handsome fev

CON o'rkoak ; OB,

tares, "if you had struck me across the mouth
you couldn't have given me a greater affront.
Wasn't it a party thing now— 1 leave it to yourself!
—to see a girl just only a few days out of the hos-
pital goia' down on her two knees to scrub a dirty
cellar floor? I'm ashamed of you, Winny— that's
just what I am !"

In vain did Winny declare herself fully strong
enough for the task she undertook, winding up with
an assurance that sho did not feel the least fatigued.
Mrs. Bergen cut her short with :

" No matter for that— I tell you, it was a shame
for you, and I'll have the same scrubbin' in my nose
for you this many a day 1"

Con enjoyed the fan amazingly, and laughed
heartily at Mrs. Bergen's good-natured scold. The
debate was soon brought to a close, however, by
the entrance of Paul and his friend Dwyer, who
was, it seemed, purse-bearer on the occasion.

Neither Paul nor Andy appeared in good spirits,
■which made the others fear to ask how they had
succeeded, till at last Dwyer, having warmed his
benumbed hands at the stcve, began to turn out the
contents of his pockets on the table, and Mrs. Ber-
gen seeing the heap of silver assuming larger and
larger proportions every minute, could contain her-
self no longer —

« Why, then, I declare, but ye haven't done so bad
after all ?" she cried.
" An' who said wo did ?" rejoined her husband,

across the mouth
a greater affront,
eave it to yourself!
ays out of the hos-
jes to scrub a dirty
ifou, Winny— that's

lerself fully strong
ok, winding up with
;l the least fatigued.

you, it was a shame
crubbia' in my nose

ingly, and laughed
aatured scold. The
close, however, by
friend Dwyer, who
the occasion,
ared in good spirits,
» ask how they had
having warmed his
legau to turn out tho
table, and Mrs. Ber-
issuming larger and
e, could contain her-

3 haven't done so bad

joined her husband,

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NKW WORLD.

gruffly, as he took his place in front of the stove,
leaving Andy to reckon the money.

" Well, nobody said it to be sure," replied his
wife, with a deprecating air, "but somehow both of
you looked so down-hearted like, that I thought
you didn't do as well as you'd wish."

" Oh ! in regard to the money," said Andy, sus-
pending his reckoning fv a moment, " we have no
reason to complain. I think you'll all wonder when
I have tho amount calculated. No ! no ! Mrs. Ber-
gen, it was quite another thing made us down-
hearted, as you say. If we didn't dear buy that
money no two men ever did. I never went out to
collect before, at least in this country, and, upon
my veracity, it'll be long before I go out again—
that is," he added, " unless something past the com-
mon turns up. Tell them, Paul, all that happened,
while I count this money."

" What can I tell them," said Paul, still in the
same aalky humor, "only that there isn't such a
curious set of people in the world wide as we are.
Con O'Regan, I wish you had been with us this
night, an' then you'd see what I was often tellin'
you, that there's plenty of Irisli people in this very
city just as poor as any in Ireland, an' God knows,
that's sayin' enough for their poverty ! We climbed
up four and five pair of stairs this very night in
twenty different houses, I'm sure and certain, divin'
into little dark rooms on every lobby where you'd
•carcely see your hand, an' in every room of them

too

coji o'rfoan' ; OR,

was a family, some with five or six children; still
the men were most of them at their suppers, an,
dear knows, there was hardly one but gave us less
or more, though we could scarce bring ourselves
to ask them for anything. Sometimes either the
wife or the husband would grumble an' say they
were poor enough themselves, but the other would
put in with ' whisht, now, you miserly orature, we
can give a little, an' we will, too, plase the Lord—
every little helps—' ' If we don't give,' another
would come out with, ' how can we expect to get?'
There we were these two mortal hours, from garret
to cellar, an' from cellar to garret, except just now
an' then that we'd happen on some dealer or store-
keeper that lived on a level with the street."

"I don't know how you had the heart to ask
charity from such poor creatures," said Con, in a
low, hesitating voice; "I think I couldn't do it,"
and ho dashed away a trickling tear with the back

of his hand.

"Well, sure enough, wo went into five or sis
places where we didtCt ask anything, only just made
the best of our way out again, and there was one
room, away up at the top of a great empty barrack
of a house where we found a poor siok girl lyin' on
straw on the bare floor, an' not a crature to mind
her only her father who had just got in with a loaf
of bread that he had been out for. There was two
or three little weeny bits of children, the eldest of
them not as big as Patsey there, an' to see them

EllIORANT UFK IN THE NEW WORLD.

101

six children; btlH
their Buppers, an,'
s but gave uh less
le bring ourselves
letimea either the
mble an' say they
it the other would
lieerly crature, we
>, plase the Lord —
n't give,' another
we expect to get ?'
hours, from garret
t, except just now
me dealer or store-
I the street."
I the heart to ask
res," said Con, in a
I couldn't do it,"
tear with the back

nt into fire or six
ling, only just made
and there was one
»reat empty barrack
or siok girl lyin' on
t a crature to mind
it got in with a loaf
lor. There was two
ildren, the eldest of
ere, an' to lee them

- poor things gatherin' round the father when they
saw the bread, an' houldin' up their little blue cold
hands,— well! well!" said Paul, trying to cough
down his emotion, " it was a sorrowful sight, sure
enough, an' so myself an' Andy gave a quarter each
to the poor heart-broken father, an' made the best
of our way down the four flights of stairs that we
had climbed up. As ill-luck would have it, poor
Andy missed his foot in the d?»vk on one of the
lower flights, an' fell down half the stairs. It was
just as much as he could do to come down here
after, an' only for that we'd have gone farther."

Andy was now besieged with anxious inquiries
touching the amount of damage he had sustained,
which was happily of no great consequence.

'« I'll never feel it," said he, with a smile, " when
I'm one day in the grave. But how much money do
you think we have ?" he added, brightening up as he
glanced his eye over the rows of little piles, each
containing a dollar.
Each one might have easily ascertained the exact

amount, but that would have been too tedious a

mode of satisfying their benevolent curiosity, so they

all asked eageriy " How much is it ?"

"Sixty-five dollars!" said Andy, slowly enuncU

ating every syllable ; " what do you think of that?

— and the most of it from those very garrets and

cellars and little dark dens that Paul mentioned I"
Winny and Con were loud in expressing their

Mtonishment, but Mrs. Bergen seemed to take it as

•'^^

109

CON o'KEflAN ; OR,

a matter of course. She declared she had often seen
larger collections taken up "for no bigger charity
than Anty Brady an' her five children." Though
she didn't deny but it was very well, considering the
hard times that were in it.

Con O'Regan sat listening with a half abstracted
air to the remarks of those around him, till Winny,
noticing his silence, smilingly said, "a penny for
your thought, Con !"

"I was just thinkin', Winny," said her brother
starling from his reverie, " how little notion the peo-
ple at home have of all this. They think if they
once get to America that their hardship is all at an
end, an' that they'll never know a day's poverty
again. What in the world can be the reason that
none of those poor unfortunate creatures ever lets
their friends at home know the state they're in ?
I'm sure and certain if they did, there wouldn't be
one-tenth of the number comin' to America. They'd
be better pleased to starve at home than in a strange
country. I can't make out why they don't tell the
truth."

" Ah 1 that's tlie secret," said Andy, as he busied
himself in making up the money in a neat parcel ;
•' now, I tell you what my notion is. Its true
enough what you were saying, that most every one
comes out here with the expectation of making a
fortune, because it's a new country. Well, you see,
when they find themselves disappointed, as many of
them are, they're ashamed to own it. They think

1
i

8
t
t

t]
CI

hi
tl
D

Pi
H
hii
be

ESIIORANT LIFB IN THE NEW WORLD.

1C3

she had oflen seen

no bigger charity

shildren." Though

ell, considering the

ti a half abstracted
id him, till Winny,
aid, "a penny for

' said her brother
ttle notion the peo-
rhey think if they
lardship is all at an
w a day's poverty
be the reason that
creatures ever lets
i state they're in ?
, there wouldn't be
America. They'd
le than in a strange
they' don't tell the

Andy, as be busied
y in a neat parcel ;
otion is. Its true
hat most every one
nation of making a
ry. Well, you see,
)ointed, as many of
wn it. They think

It 8 all right, at least they can bear their hardship the
better, as long as it isn't known at home, and that's
just the reason why they all keep the secret. For
my part, I never did, or never will, encourage any
one to come out. When I'm writing home I always
describe things just as they are. But what about
this money, Paul; will you come with me to-morrow
afternoon to give it to the poor woman that owns

It I

"Any time you like," said Paul, "for I'm sure
she 8 badly in need of it. But, after all, now Andy
this temperance is tryin' enough. If it was former
times with me, you see, I wouldn't let you out with-
out a drop of something warm."

" And I'm a thousand times better pleased to see
things as they are," returned Andy ; « if you had a
cask of Uquor here I wouldn't taste it. Good night
to you all." Turning back at the door, he gave
Con and Winny a cordial invitation to go and see
his old woman" on the following day, to which
they both agreed. Con lingered a moment after
Dwyer had left, to ask Paul who he was.

" He seems to be a very decent, sober man," said
Con, " an' a well-discoorsed man, too."

"Small thanks to him for that, anyhow," replied
Paul; "sure wasn't heat school till he was man big.
He got larnin' for a priest, poor fellow, but somehow
his people weren't able to push him on, or else he
began to find out that he had no likin' for it ; so he

— te

104

coK o'bkgan ; OR,

jast married a wife, an' came off Lere to Amerioa
soon after."
"And how did he get along here ?"
" Poorly enough, Con ; poorly enough. He went
out and worked on the railroad a while, just long
enough to make him heartsick of it, and to leave him
/ a rheumatis that he'll never get the better of the
longest day he has to live. At last he was cheated
out of twenty or thirty dollars by a rascal of a con-
tractor — an Irishman, too, and from his own county
^and that finished all. He took such a disgust
again railroads, that he thought he'd never get away
soon enough from the business; and neither would he
have got into town, dear knows when, if the men
hadn't made up a few dollars among theraeelves to
take him and his sick wife and two little children in."
"And what does he do now V*
" Oh I he turned his hand to anything he could get
to do for the first couple of years, but last May was
a twel'month he got in as a storeman with some
merchant in one of the main streets. He's a Very
good sort of a man — noways bigoted, Andy tells
me—just such another aa your master, Mr. Coulter,
Evsr since poor Andy manages to keep the wolf
from the door — he has seven dollars a week, and, to
a sober man like him, that's enough to keep up his

family."
" But he can't save anything out of it," observed

Winny ; " so, if siokness came on him, or any acci-

— te

' Lere to America

re ?"

BDough. He went

a while, jast long
t, and to leave him

the better of the
Mt he was cheated
Y a rascal of a con-
jm his own county
)k such a disgust
e'd never get away
id neither would he
i when, if the men
ong themselves to
little children in."

jTthing he could get
s, but last May was
oreman with some
reets. He's a very
igoted, Andy tells
taster, Mr. Coulter,
9 to keep the wolf
lars a week, and, to
ugh to keep up hia

out of it," observed
[)n him, or any acci-

EMIORANT UFE IN THI NEW WORLD.

109

dent, he wouldn't have the means of keeping his fa-
mily for one week."

" Save, indeed !" cried Paul, with a husky laugh ;
'• I'd like to know where's the workin' man that can
save money or have anything by him if he has a
young family to support. No, no I— there's not
much chance of that, God help us — we must only
take things as they are, an' not be frettin' about the
time to come."

" By the laws !" said Con, starting from a reverie,
" it's time I wasn't here, anyhow. I'm sure it's every
minute of ten o'clock. Good night to you all!"
Another moment, and he was hurrying on with rapid
steps in the direction of his boarding-house. Late
as it was the streets were still full of people, no
longer propelling themselves with the bustling haste
of business, but leisurely pacing the flagged sidewalks,
generally in parties of two or more, enjoying the se-
rene brightness of the cold winter moon. Bnt Con
O'Regan, contenting himself with a glance at the ra-
diant orb far up in the azure dome of heaven, and
heaving a sigh for " the loved ones at home," con-
tinned his onward way. He had never been out bo
late since he had been a lodger of Mrs. Maloney's,
and he well knew that the good woman was most
particular in regard to the hours kept by her board-
ers. The only thing that induced him to slacken his
speed for a moment was an appeal for charity, made
occasionally at the corner of a street, or from the
shelter of a projecting arch, in the familiar accents

106

CON ©'beoan ; OF,

of his own beloved land. To these appeals poor Con
could never turn a deaf ear. True, he was accustom
ed to hear sundry complaints, even from those who
were disposed to sympathize with the Irish, that ^
they wera too ready to take up " the begging tr^de,"
and that such a propensity could only be ascribed to
downright laziiiehb; but, somehow, Con had a vague
idea that there might be some other cause for this
widespread evil. "Begging," thought he, "can
never be a pleasure to any one— at least at the first \
—no one will ever begin to beg without some neces-
sity, and God help them that has to turn to it in a
strange country. I suppose there is some of them
that stick to it of their own accord after a while, but
that's no reason that I'd refuse a copper to any of
them when I have it about me, for, who knows, but
it would be them that was in the greatest distress
that I'd refuse. At ar.y rate, they're most all of
them Irish, and there's enough to be hard on ihem
without me, that's their own flesh and blood !"

He was just engaged in some such soliloquy, still
hurrying on, when suddenly the tinkling soand of
the fire-bell rang out from the nearest engine house,
and the entire neighborhood was thrown 'mt'.> com-
motion. Doors and windows were hastily opened,
and heads peered out in all directions. The people
In the streets aaked each other « where cm the fire
be ?" and for some time no one seemed To know. A*
length there was a cry of " Coulter, V/ms & Or,—
It's there the fire is 1"

)F,

eso appeals poor Con
■ue, he was accustom
ven from those who
v'ith the Irish, that
' the begging trjide,"
i only be ascribed to
ow, Con had a vague
other cause for this
thought he, "can
-at least at the first
without some neces-
as to turn to it in a
ere is some of them
ord after a while, but
e a copper to any of
, for, who knows, but
the greatest distress
, they're most all of
to be hard on them
esh and blood !"
fie such soliloquy, still
he tinkling soand of
nearest engine house,
was thrown into corn-
were hastily opsncfl,
rections. TLc people
■ "where ct,a the fire
) seemed to fenow. A<
Joulter, V/ms «fc Or,—

EMIORANT LIFE IS THE NEW WORLD.

107

. \

" The Lord save us !" cried Con, " is it our ware-
house — what's to be done at all, and Mr. Couller
living 80 far off— he'll be ruined entirely !" and off
be ran at full speed to see if he could do anything
Ihat would serve Mr. Coulter, for in that moment
of danger and anxiety Con's grateful heart had no
room for other than bis benefactor. He had still a
confused hope that the fire might not be in their
premises after all, but on turning the corner of a
street which nearlj fronted the warehouse, his hopes
were changed to dread certainty, for the flames
were bursting from the windows on the second
Atorj. Two or three engines were already at work,
and others were heard advancing in various direc-
tions; the cries of the firemen, the ringing of their
respectiva bells, and the loud vociferations of the
dense crowd around, all conspiring to make the
scene one of wildest confusion, and Con O'Regaa
was for a moment stunned by his own consternation
and the terrific noise, momentarily increasing.
Meanwhile the fire continued to increase, notwith-
standing the almost superhuman exertions of the
fire companies, and it was soon found that there
was no chance of saving the building; the hose was
thenceforward chiefly directed towards the adjoin-
ing warehouses on either side of the narrow street,
and the firemen observed with the utmost coolness
that " Coulter, Pirns A Co. had no chance." The
ladders were just withdrawn from the windows, and
the building was almost a sheet of flame when th«

108

CON o'beoam ; OB,

agitated voice of Mr. Coulter aroused Con from hi»
Btnpor. The old gentleman had but juBt arrived,
and his quick eye at once perceived that he had
nothing to hope.

" I hope you are well insured, Mr. Coulter ?" said
a gentleman who recognized the senior partner.

" Yes, yes, we're all right there , but there's a
large sum of money lying on my desk which I was
too late to deposit yesterday— forgot to put in the
safe— is there no possibility of reaching my office?"
and he walked towards a door which opened directly
from the office on a narrow alley. A thrill of joy
flushed his pallid face— the door was yet safe, and
no appearance of fire in that end of the building.
Taking the key from his pocket, he was about to
put it in the look, when some of the firemen dragged
him back, crying :

" Are you mad, mister ? The floor above that
there office— if so be it is an office— is all in flames
— it may fall any minute."

"Then all is lost!" said Mr. Coulter, in a Toic«
scarcely articulate.

" Not yet, sir," answered one from behind, and
Con O'Regan stood at his master's side ; " give me
the key, sir, and I'll venture in I"

A loud mocking laugh was heard on every side,
and Mr. Coulter hesitated to give the key.

" It would be death to you. Con,— certain death
—no— no ! let it be as it is I better that than worsel"

" The key, sir, the key !" still persisted Ooo, and

OR,

Bused Con from hi»
J but juBt arrived,
leivod that he had

Mr. Coulter T said
senior partner,
ere, but there's a
y desk which I was
Forgot to put in the
eaching my office f"
liioh opened directly
ey. A thrill of joy
»r was yet safe, and
ind of the building,
it, he was about to
the firemen dragged

he floor above that
See — is all in flames

. Coulter, in a voice

le from behind, and

;er'8 side ; " give m«

beard on every side,

ve the key.

Con, — certain death

ter that than worse I"

1 persisted Ooo, and

EMtGRANT MFE IN THE NKW WORI,D.

109

he literally forced it from Mr. Coulter's grasp.
Then making the sign of the cross on his forehead
and breast, he breathed an inward ejaculation to
Mary, Vie help of Christians, and dashing aside with
piant strength those who would have held him back
from what appeared certaia destruction, he gained
the little private door, the key turned in the lock
obedient to his hand, and he stood a moment on the
threshold almost suffocated with the smoke which
burst forth in a dense volume.

'• Blessed Mother !" cried Con ; " I'll never be able
to see it — now or never help me till I save this
money for my good master !" And he resolutely
kept his ground at the door, notwithstanding the
choking and blinding smoke. A moment and the
almost palpable vapor cleared away, at least par-
tially, so that Con could peer into the office, and
sure enough on the desk lay a small parcel which he
reached with a single bound, and thrusting it into
his breast pocket, dashed, or rather threw himself,
throngh the doorway, which he could no longer see,
for the smoke rolled out thicker and darker than
ever. Just as Con gained the open air, where he.
would have fallen exhausted to the ground had not
Mr. Coulter caught him in bis outstretched arras,
the floor above the office gave way, and fell with a
deafening crash. A wild shout rent the air when it
was known that the venturous Irishman had es-
caped, for such heroic devotion could not fail t«

CON o'rkoan ; OP,

elicit admiration even from a people who are ever
unwilling to see or acknowledge Irish merit.

" lie's a d d fine fellow!" cried one.

" I swear he's a brick !" said another, " though be
is a Paddy 1"

Leaving the mob to discuss the matter thus at
their leisure, as they watched the decline, or rather
the extinction of the fire, Mr. Coulter led Con
gently out of the crowd to a place of comparative
quiet. The brave fellow had not yet recovered
himself after his violent exertion both of mind and
body; his eyes were red and swollen, and he had
Btill a choking sensation about the throat ; his mind,
too, was somewhat confused, yet his hand mechani-
cally clutched the precioug parcel in the breast-
pocket of his round pea-jacket, and his first act on
regaining his consciousness was to hand it to Mr.
Coulter, inquiring if that was the one he meant.

" It is, Con, the very one," said his employer, in
a voice trembling with emotion, while his pallid
brow plainly denoted the excruciating anxiety of
the last few minutes, " bat, indeed, indeed, I was
quite willing to let it go, rather than have you en-
danger your life !"

"I know that well enough, sir," replied Con,
" but I wasn't afoard somehow of losin' my life, for
God an' the Blessed Virgin were with me, an' I
owed you a good turn, sir, this many a day. Thank
God, you have the money safe anyhow I I'll bo

, ^

iple who are ever

rish merit.

ied one.

)ther, " though he

le matter thus at
I decline, or rather
Coulter led Con
;e of comparative
ot yet recovered
both of mind and
ollen, and he had
throat ; his mind,
his hand mechani-
cel in the breast-
id his first set on
to hand it to Mr.
one he meant,
d his employer, in
, while his pallid
eiating anxiety of
led, indeed, I was
than have you en-
sir," replied Con,
f losin' my life, for
re with me, an' I
any a day. Thank
anyhow I I'll bo

EMIGRANT. LIFE IN THB NEW WOHLD.

Ill

biddin' you good night now, Mr. Coulter 1" he
added, as they reached that gentleman's door.

" I would ask you in to take some refreshment,
Con," said Mr. Coulter, as he warmly shook his
hand, " only that one of my daughters has a fever,
which, I fear, is contagious. It would hardly be
prudent for you to enter. Con O'Regan, you have
rendered me a great service this night at the immi>
nent peril of you.* life, and if I am spared you shall
never want a friend — you shall find that old Sam.
Coulter is not ungrateful !"

Con replied that he had done nothing but hiii
duty, and bidding his master once more good night,
he walked away with a lightsome heart.

tmmemim/f'^^tt^^^'

CON o'rKOAN : (ML

CHAPTER VII.

Earlt next morning there was a violent ringing
»t Mr. Coult-er's door-bell. After a short delay the
door was opened by Mrs. Coulter herself, Btill in
her nightcap, and looking as though she had been
a watcher through the long hours of night. It waa
Mr. Piins who stood without, and his anxious in-
quiry for Mr. Coulter was responded to on the part
of the lady by en invitation to walk in and sit down.

" I suppose you have heard of our misfortune, Mr.
Pirns ?" said Mrs. Coulter, in a listless tone.

" Oh ! of course — it was just about that I came
this morning."

" And you were not afraid to come in ?" inquired
the lady, in unfeigned surprise.

"Afraid? — why, certainly not! — what have I to
fear?"

" Well, you know, some folk are dreadfully afraid
of typhus fever — however, I am glad to find that
you are not of the number. Excuse me a moment
—I will apprise Mr. Coulter of your friendly visit.
We have no help just now, as you may perceive, for
neither of my girls could bo induced to remain one

EMIGRANT MFE IM THK KKW WORLD.

iia

[I.

u a violent ringing
sr a abort delay the
Iter herself, still iu
OQgh she had been
PB of night. It waa
ind hia anxious in-
aded to on the part
ilk in and sit down,
oar misfortune, Mr.
istless tone,
about that I came

come in ?" inquired

,1 — what have I to

ire dreadfully afraid
n glad to find that
Kcuse me a moment
your friendly visit.
»u may perceive, for
uoed to remain one

day in the honse, after the doctore had decided that
poor Rachel had typhus. Then this unlucky fire
happening at such a time — what a dreary world it
is, Mr. Pirns ! — happily its tribulations cannot last
forever !"

Thus moralizing, she was about to quit the r<70B)
after opening the shutters, when Mr. Pims started
to his feet, or rather recovered the possession of
those members before his hinder end had touched
the chair. In two steps he reached the door lead-
ing to the hall.

" Did I understand you right, Mrs. Coulter ?" he
asked, in a loud, excited voice — " is there typhus
fever in the house ?"

"The doctors say so," replied Mrs. Coulter, turn-
ing round in some surprise ; " I thought you siud
you knew."

" Oh ! I meant the fire — good morning, Mrs. Coul-
ter ! — don't trouble yourself to go up stairs — I can
see Mr. Coulter at another time — good morning !"
and fearful of being delayed by further interroga-
tion, he hastily made his retreat.

Mrs. Coulter, musing on the selfishness of the
world, and heaving a sigh for the promised millenium
of universal charity, was passing, as it were, me-
chanically through the folding doors into the baok-
parlor, when she was electrified by the apparition
of her husband standing right in the doorway. H«
was evidently chuckling ovei soma hnmoroM

114

CON o'RroAN ; OR,

thought, and greeted his grave helpmate with a nod
and a smile.

" So you've frightened him off," said he ; " if you
had laid a plan to get rid of him this morning, Pru
dence, you couldn't have succaeded better. Being a
spiritual brother of yours, my dear I suppose you
counted on him in this emergency."

" Me count on him, Mr. Coulter ? I did no such
thing. I hope I can make allowance for human frail-
ty, though I confess I did not expect to find Mr.
Pims quite so selfish."

'■' Selfish, Prudence!" repeated her husband ; " why,
how can you talk of selfishness in such a case ? You
who but a few weeks since sent a faithful servant to
an hospital as fast as you could get her out of the
house, and all for fear of a certain infectious disease
from which the poor girl was as free as you yourself
were. For shame, Mrs. Coulter! don't reflect en
poor Piifls for a failing to which we are all prone
— the godly as well as the ungodly. But -how is
poor Rachel this morning ? I was in to see her as I
passed, but she seems in a kind of slumber. Han-
nah was sitting by her, and she looks as though she
were hardly able to hold up her head, poor thing."

" No more she is, Samuel. I fear she will be the
next struck down, though indeed I feel very poorly
myself," and she placed her hand on her high narrow
forehead.

" But what about Rachel— do you think she is aoj
better?"

OR,

helpmate with a nod

oflf," said he ; " if you
im this morning, Pru
ided better. Being a
dear I suppose you
Qcy."

Iter? I did no such
ranee for human frail-
<t expect to find Mr,

i her husband ; " why,
in such a case ? You
t a faithful servant to
Id get her out of the
tain infectious disease
3 free as you yourself
Iter I don't reflect on
lich we are all prone
igodly. But -how ia
was in to see her as I
d of slumber. Han-
5 looks as though she
r head, poor thing."
fear she will be the
id I feel very poorly
d on her high narrow

yoQ think she is any

EMIGR-INT LIFE IS THE NKW WORLD.

115

"Not much — if any!" replied the fond mother;
" dear child, what is to become of her should I sink
under this load of trouble and fatigue? Doctor
Richards promised to send a eick-nurse last evening,
but you see there has none come, and here am I try-
ing to do all myself! What an ungrateful hussy that
Leah was to leave me at such a time ! — bad as the
Irish are, Winny would scarce have acted so, at least
she could not have acted worse. That was not what
I expected from a respectable, God-fearing girl like
Leah I"

" Oh ! of course not, my dear ! but you see it's just
as I told you before — typhus fever has no attractions
even for the elect — your religious people are always
praying for ' kingdom come,' but they never want
it near at hand. If they were sure of going to
heaven right off in a hand-basket they would rather
stay here and pray for it. By Jove ! they would so I
— never expect one of them, then, to face typhus fever
or any other fever that might send them across the
bourne into the other world. But get mo a cup of
coffee. Prudence, as soon as you can, and I'll sally
out in quest of a nurse. Unfortunately I have no
business to attend to to-day, except to pay some bills
which I may thank Con O'Regan for being able to
do."

"Why, what do you mean?" cried the anxious
wife, stopping shi/it in her quick march towards the
kitoben where Hannah had made a fire some time be>

11«

CON o'RKO'N ; OR,

fore ; " what has Con O'Regan to do with your
bills?"

" He has everything to do with them on the pre.
sent occasion," was the calm reply, and then the
warm-hearted old gentleman proceeded to give his
■wife a brief acconnt of Con's generous devotion on
the previons night. Mrs. Coulter listened with a
look of blank astonishment, and when she had heard
nil, she heaved a heavy sigh.

" Well, Prudence !" said her husband, " what do
yon think of Con, now ?— T think I shall have a
knock-down argument for the future when fighting
the battles of the Irish !— ha ! ha ! ha ! let me catch
Pims or Wood coming out with their little narrow
prejudices, and, by my word ! they shall hear it in
both ears !'

" He must be a smart fellow that O'Regan !" was
Mrs. Coulter's comment, as she left the room on
culinary purpose bent.

" He must be a smart fellow that O'Regan !*• re-
peated the husband, mimicking the peculiar tone
and accent of his wife. " Ah ! you're a precious
Bet of heartless hypocrites, you canting saints ! not
a particle of generous feeling in your icy breasts !
Heaven help the warm-hearted, impulsive, entbusi-
astio race who will persist in toiling for such a
people — a people so obstinately prejudiced against
them, so diametrically opposed to them in every
characteristic feature. But I, at least, will do them
justice—ay !' and what is more, I will bring Madam

OR,

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORt.n.

117

fan to do with yoM

'ith them on the pre*
reply, and then the
proceeded to give his
generous devotion on
)ulter listened with a
d when she had heard

r hnsband, " what do
think I shall have a
future when fighting
ha ! ha ! let me catch
th their little narrow
they shall hear it in

' that O'Regan !" was
jhe lefb the room on

V that O'Regan !*' re-
ig the peculiar tone
1 ! you're a precious
u canting saints ! not
in your icy breasts !
d, impulsive, enthusi-
Q toiling for snob a
y prejudiced against
id to them in every
at least, will do them
, I will bring Madam

Coulter to give them a portion of their merit before
I am many months older I"

Whilst his breakfast was in preparation, the aifeo-
tionate old man ascended to the sick room of his
daughter, whom he found still in the same feverish
slumber, with her cheeks like two damask roses,
her eyes half open, and her breathing short and
irregular. Making up the small hand which lay
outside the bedclothes, he found it dry and burning,
and his heart sank within him. Turning to Han-
nah, who had been watching him wiih scrutinizing
eyes, he shook his head and murmured :

"Your sister is very low, Hannah! — very low,
indeed! — but this sleep may do her good." His
heart was full as he glanced again at the unconscious
sleeper, then whispering to Hannah to take good
care of her sister and that he would find some one
to relieve her, he hastened to place the door be>
twecn him and an object that harrowed his very
soul.

" Now if Con should venture in after all," was
Mr. Coulter's soliloquy, as he tramped heavily down
the stairs, and when he heard a modest, hesitating
ring at the door, just as he had seated himself at
the table, he said exultingly to his wife, when return^
ing from the door she announced Con :

"There now, Prudence, you see Con O'Regan
comes in spite of the fever— I knew he would.
Con," he called out, " won't you come inside ?"

*'No, air, thank you, I'd rather stay here/' ra

118

CON o'kegan ; OR,

plieJ Con, from the hall. " I just called, Mr.
Coulter, to see how tho young lady is this raornjn',
an' to know if you'd have anything for me to do —
but I'm in no hurry, sir, I'll wait as long as yon
like."

"Have you got your breakfast, Con?" v/ab the
next question.

" Oh, yis, sir, I got my breakfast an hour igo."

" Very well, Con, I'll be oui, ("ilh you as soon as
I take a cup of coffee."

Mrs. Coulter hastily swallowed a few monthfiils of
the grateful beverage, maintaining the while a dig-
nified silence, and muttering something about Ra-
chel, she left the room, reminding her husband to
"be sure and see after the nurse."

" And that same is no trifling task," said Mr.
Coulter ; " but something must be done, as this good
doctor of ours seems to take the thing so coolly."

"Now, Con," said Mr. Coulter, as he took his hat
from the stand in the hall, " I want you to bring me
to the house where Winny boards."

Con looked surprised, but he answered promptly,
" An' to be sure, I will, sir, though ij^deed it's not a
place for the likes of you— it's down in a cellar, sir,
in Hope street here beyond."

" That is of no consequence," said Mr. Coulter.
"I wish to see Winny, so just go aliead, will you ?"

Con said no more, and the pair walked on in silence,
Con always managing to keep a few feet ahead of
his employor, deeming it disrespectful to walk by hit

I juRt called, Mr.
lady is this mornin',
liing for me to do —
rait as long as yoa

Mt, Con?" \yab the

'ast ati hour igo."
•Vfith you as soon as

d a few monthfiils of
ing the while a dig-
)metbing about Ra-
Ung her husband to

ng task," said Mr.
e done, as this good
I thing BO coolly."
r, as he took his hat
int yoa to bring me
dfl."

inswered promptly,
gh indeed it's not a
own in a cellar, sir,

' said Mr. Coulter.
> ahead, will you ?"
valked on in silence,
a few feet ahead of
clful to walk by hit

KIIICBAST LIFE IN THE .VEW WORLD.

119

side. After winding through several streets of that
much intricate and mazy ciiy, Con turned iuto Hope
street, which was once inhabited by the upper
classes, until the Irish liaving obtained a settlement
tliere, they were, as is usual in New England cities,
speedily leA. to themselves. It Las gradually be-
come a sort of Irish colony, in the heart of the Pu-
ritan city. Its inhabitants are principally, indeed al-
most exclusively, of the humbler classes, most of
uhom are dependent on their daily labor for the
means of living. The street is literally swarming
with inhabitants, many of the bouses being very large,
and all crowded from garret to cellar.

As Mr, Coulter gazed on the troops of little ragged
children sporting at every door, in the happy care-
lessness of their age, and watched their fresh rosy
faces, and the precocious intelligence of their si\y,
startled glances, bis kind heart was touched to its
very core. " Merciful Heaven I" said he, gaining
Con's side, by a double step or two, " what a popu-
lation there is here — a population fit for anything I
here they are, living by hundreds in squalid po^.
erty, scarce knowing to-day how they may live to-
morrow 1 what can infatuate them so ?"

" What can they do, sir ?" said Con, respectfully.

" Do ! why let them go out and scatter over the
country — there are millions of broad acres within the
territory of this Republic, awaiting the woodman's
axe and the tiller's spade — lands which could be had
fur % very BmaJI purchase. Now year people are

ISO

CON O'RROAN ! OH,

mostly given to agricultural parsu'.toathome, and it
18 strange that they do not make an effort to get
farms here."

Con listened with intense in*.erest, and caught
eagerly at Mr. Conlter's proposition concerning the
waste lands. "Why, sir," said he, "these are the
lands, I suppose, that we used to hear so much about
at home. Where are they, if you please, sir P— T
thought all the country round here was settled, and
the land taken up long ago."

" So it is, Con," said Mr. Coulter, smiling ; " but
the lands I mean are away out West in some of the
new States, such as Wisconsin, Iowa and others.
In fact, there are vast tracts of country still unoccu-
pied in all the Western St::tes.* But the trouble
is," he added, musingly, « how could those poor peo-
ple get there, or, being there, how could they live
till such times as they had cleared enough of land to
raise crops? If lihey had only the means of living
for one year ! the thing I fear is hopeless I" he con-
cluded, with a heavy sigh.

Here Con atopped in front of a four-story house
which might once have been the handsome residence
of some wealthy merchant. The cellar into which
Con led his employer had been lately whitewashed,

♦The reader must remember that this refers to a period ten
years back. Unfortunately the same could not be said now.
The Western Htatoa will very soon be as thickly settled as any
In the Union,

OR,

irsuitq at home, and it
lake an effort to get

interest, and caught
ntion concerning the
1 he, "these are the
> hear so much about
you please, sir? — T
lere was settled, aud

lulter, smiling ; " but
West in some of the
a, Iowa and others,
country still unoccu-
i* But the trouble
ould those poor peo-
bow could they live
Bd enough of land to
the means of living
8 hopeless I" he con-

f a four-story house
handsome residence
e cellar into which
lately whitewashed,

is refers to a period ten
conid not bo said now.
18 thickly settled as any

tMIORANT LIFE IN THB NEW WORLD.

lai

tnd presented an appearance of comparative neat-
ness and comfort.

At the moment of Mr. Coulter's arrival, Winny
was making up the beds while Mrs. Kergen sat by
the stove dressing the baby, now, like its mother,
much fresher and fairer than when we first saw
them. A general commotion followed the an-
nouncement of the children that " there was a gen-
tleman comin' down the steps with Con O'Regan,"
and Winny came forward just in time to receive Mr.
Coulter vath a curtsey and a smile, her face all in
a glow with pleasure and surprise. But Mr. Coulter
refused to go further than the door, saying, with
characteristic bluntness ;

" I suppose you haven't heard of Rachel's illness?"

" Indeed, I did hear of it, sir," replied Winny ;
" Con told me last night, an' heart sorry I was to
hear it, too. Is there any change for the better this
mornin' ?"

" Not the least sign of change, Winny," said Mr.
Coulter, sadly, " and I do not expect any for <orae
time, Winny," he added, abruptly after a short
pause, "are you afraid of fever P

Winny's pale cheek grew a shade paler, and her
voice trembled perceptibly as she replied : " Well !
sir, I can't say but what I am— there's no use in
sayin' what's not true— hem !" clearinp' her throat
vigorously, " but if it was Gbd's will for me to be in
che way of it, I hope He'd give me strength to do
mj duty."

' £i Hlil llll 7«1Ml l Un i liW i Mtt

128

CON o'reoak ; OR,

" Winny," said Mr. Coalter, " I came hers to aek
a great favor of you — will you come and take care
of Rachel till she gets bettor — or — ," his voice fal-
tereil, but Winny came to hia rel'.of:

" I'll go, Mr. Coulter — I will, sir, if I was sure of
takin' the fever myself. Miss Rachel shan't want
some one to mind her while I'm able to do it." As
she spoke, her cheek had an unnatural glow, and her
eyes flashed with unwonted brightness. Winny
was making a desperate effort, for, in her heart, she
had the full measure of terror wherewith the Irish
peasantry regard typhus — or " the fever," as they
emphatically call it. But still, within the deep re-
cesses of that generous heart, there was a sensible
emotion of joy and gratitude that sho was at last
enabled to show her kind old master how deeply she
felt his goodness to herself and her brother. She
glanced at Con, whose ruddy cheek had become
almost as bloodless as her own during the foregoing
brief colloquy. His eyes were full of tears, and he
Btood leaning against the door-post, with a coante-
nanoe expressive of strong inward emotion. Mrs.
Bergen, in her turn, called out, in a raised and ex-
cited tone :

*' Why, the Lord bless me, Winny, sure 7jou can't
take upon yon to mind the young lady, an' you only
jist gettin' up yourself, as a body may say, from a
sickbed? Depend upon it, Winny, you'd be knocked
down yourself before one week went over your head.
Hut, tut, girl, don't be makin' a fool of yourself, an*

I came hers to ask
come and take care
-or — ," his voice fal*
!i:of:

sir, if I was Bure of
Rachel shan't want
, able to do it." As
atnral glow, and her
)rightne88. Winny
'or, in her heart, she
wherewith the Irish
the fever," as they
within the deep re-
here was a sensible
hat she was at last
ister how deeply she
I her brother. She
cheek had become
during the foregoing
full of tears, and he
•post, with a counte-
'ard emotion. Mrs.
, in a raised and ex.<

Hnny, sore you can't
ig lady, an' you only
)dy may say, from a
iy, you'd be knocked
«rent over your head,
fool of yourself, un«

EMIfiRAN'T I.IFK TN' THE N'EW WORIJ).

123

dertakin' what you're no more fit for than this child
on my knee !"

"What do yon say. Con .'" inquired Mr. Coulter,
suddenly turning to Con, whose silence struck him
as remarkable. " You see I didn't tell you what I
wanted with Winny — I knew you would hear it
soon enough. Do you think it advisable for Winny
to undertake this ofBce?"

" Well ! I don't know, sir," said Con, slowly, with
his eyes still fixed on his sister's face, — " if there
could be any one else got, I'm afeard she's hardly
strong enough — but then if there's no one else to do
it, why, of course, I'm not the man to advise her
ngain it. We owe you a debt of gratitude, Mr.
Coulter, and with God's help, it must be paid."
Still he turned away, and took out his red handker-
chief.

Mr. Coultev said not a word, but he took Winny's
hand and then Con's in both his, and pressed them
with almost convulsive energy, while the tears fell
unheeded from his eyes.

Making a sign to Mrs. Bergen, who was about to
put in another remonstrance, Winny told Mr. Coul-
ter that she would go to his house just as soon as
she could get her little things in readiness, with
which assurance he was perfectly satisfied, and went
away, followed by Con, who hastily shook hands
with Winny, and bade her farewell in a tone of
touching Badness, as though he feared he was resign-
ing her to almost oertaio death. Winny endeavored

* *

124

td re-assnre bim with the whispered words : " God
is good, Con — He never failed us in our need, an'
neither will He now I"

" It's true for you, Winny, an' it's weak faith that's
in me or I'd have thought of that before." And bo
saying Cun O'Regan bounded up the steps afler his
employer with a lighter heart and a more hopeful
spirit. Never was faith more strong, never was
piety more cheerful than in the soul of the genuine
ohild of Erin as yet uncontaminated by the pesti-
lential breath of worldly skepticism inhaled in foreign
climes. Nurtured in the religious atmosphere of an
eminently Christian land, faith is from the beginning
the sensible basis of all their actions — by its light
they are wont to steer their course, by its strength
they are raised above the storms of fate, and by its
sweetness they are consoled in the unexampled
misery which is too often their lot.

No sooner had Con disappeared in the wake of his
employer than Winny was assailed by a shower of
fViendly abuse from Mrs. Bergen, while the children
set up a onorus of lamentation at the prospect of
losing Winny. The former, and more formidable
assailant Winny silenced with an appeal tu Mrs. Ber-
gen's own feelings.

"Now, Mrs. Bergen, dear, what makes you talk
that way? — you know as well as I do that if you
were in my place, free to go where you like — with-
out chick or ohild, or one in the world," here her
Voice faltered, as the remembrance of her recent loM

; OR,

spered words : " God
d us ia our need, an'

i' it's weak faith that's
hat before." And bo
up the steps afler his
, and a more hopeful
e strong, never was
iS soul of the genuine
ninated by the pesti-
sism inhaled in foreign
iouB atmosphere of an
is from the beginning
actions — by its light
ourse, by its strength
tns of fate, and by its
in the unexampled
r lot.

ired in the wake of his
ailed by a shower of
en, while the ohildren
a at the prospect of
find more formidable
in appeal to Mrs. Ber-

what makes yon talk
as I do that if you
here you like — with-
ihe world," here ber
inoe of her recent loii

KMIORANT MFE IH THK NEW WORLD.

125

crossed her mind, •' without one in the world only
just Con, that's well able to do for himself, an' with
such a load of obligation on you as I have — you know
right well that you'd go yourself with a heart an' a
half. An' so will I, please God, if I were to lose my
life for it. Maybe I'd never die in a better time,
anyhow."

Mrs. Bergen was at last obliged to give in, and
the children's clamorous wailing was speedily and
effectually stopped by the promise of " lots of candy"
when Winny came again, "an' God knows when
that'll be," she added in an under tone, as she hastily
made a bundle of the few things she intended taking
with her.

About half an hour after, Winny O'Regan bade
farewell to her faithful friend, who could not restrain
her tears as she held up the baby for her to kiss.
The other children from Jane down to little Jim all
gathered round her, each claiming a special " good-
bye," and Winny had no smdl trouble in extricating
herself from their affectionate grasp as they hung
around her. On reaching the door she turned and
said once more; 'Good bye, Mrs. Bergen, give my
best respects to Paul, and tell him if I live I'll not
forget either of you. If I die— why I'll remember
you in heaven — when I get there. Pray for me Mrs.
Bergen, an' make the children pray, too."

Mrs. Bergen would have answered with a fervent
promise, but Winny was already gone. She repaired
at once to Mr. Coulter's. Uaving rung the bell witb

lie

CON o'regan ; Oh,

an unsteady hand, she waited patiently for a few
minutes, not venturing to ring a second time, when
the door was opened by Mrs. Coulter, who, on seeing
her there with her bundle in her hand, mauifested
some surprise.

" Why, Winny, is it possible that you are coming
back ? — I really thought you were still in the hospi-
tal. Do come in I"

Wlnny entered accordingly, saying as she did so :
" No, ma^am, it's three weeks to-day since I left the
hospital."

" Why, do tell ! — I'm surprised that Mr. Coulter
never told me." It was not at all surprising, how-
ever, for the good lady had never once asked for
Winny within the time specified.

" And so you are come to stay." Winny answered
in the aiBrmative.

" Well ! I must say it is rather fortunate that you
came just now, for I have no help at present — Leah
is gone some days ago, and dear Rachel is very sick
indeed. Just go up to your own room and put
away your things— I hope you have washed them
before you came."

Winny colored deeply and said : " I'd do that for
my own sake, Mrs. Coulter. I'm sure you never
found me with my clothes dirty."

" Oh ! not at all, Winny — of course I do not mean
that. But you know there are some of those low
Irish lodging-hodses anything but clean."

Winny broke in rather abruptly and with an unu

Oh,

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORM).

121

patiently for a few
a second time, when
oulter, who, on seeiny
her hand, manifested

I that you are coming
i'ere still in the hospi-

saying as she did so :
0-day since I left the

sed that Mr. Coulter

t all surprising, how-

lever once asked for

5d.

ly." Winny answered

ler fortunate that you
ielp at present — Leah
ar Rachel is very sick
' own room and put
>u have washed them

aid : « I'd do that for
I'm sure you never

y."

course I do not mean
e some of those low
but clean."
ptly and with an una

Bual degree of warmth : " I wasn't in a lodging-house,
ma'am, beggin' your pardon — an' though it was in a
cellar in Hope street I was., there was no dirt in it
to harm any one's clothes."

"Oh I I dare say not!" said Mrs. Coulter, with an
equivocal smile ; " at all events, go up stairs and take
off your tilings. I suppose you have had your break-
fast."

Winny answered in the aflrmative and then slowly
ascended the stairs.

« «

128

ooN o'rboan : OS.

CHAPTER Tin.

Lbavinq Winny to tbe assiduous and coiiscientioua
diioharge of her self-imposed task, sustained in her
perilous position by the grace of God, and her own
strong sensff of gratitude, let us penetrate once again
into the comfortless dweUmgs of Hope street. It
was a small, dingy room, on the foarth story of a
house which was once a private mansion, the abode
of wealth and taste, but now " fallen from its high
estate," and sheltering as many families as it con-
tained rooms— the spacious apartments of former
days having been long since divided and subdivided
to suit the scanty means of the present class of oc-
cupants. The room was scantily furnished, having
but one poor, craBy-looking bedstead, covered over
with a clean, but faded patchwork quilt, some three
or four chairs, one of which was fearfully ricketty,
and a good-si«ed table o" nnpainted deal. There
were also a couple of wooden stools, or crickets, as
they are called in the place, and on one of these sat
a yonng woman, whose vacant look, ever and anon
raised towards the light burning on the table, told a
■ad tale of visual darkness. She was neatly, though

w
n(
bj

fr(

lk(

oil

hii

cbi

cai

sec

sat

ing

dig

the

cio

cas

wai

the

miORANT UFS IN THB NBW WORLD.

ttf

IIT.

IU9 and couscientious
islr, sustained in her
f God, and her own
penetrate once again
of Hope street. It
10 foarth story of a
1 mansion, the abode
< fallen from its high
y families as it con-
►artments of former
rided and subdivided
I present class of oc-
,ily furnished, having
dstead, covered over
)rk quilt, some three
as fearfully rioketty,
ainted deal. There
stools, or crickets, as
1 on one of these sat
look, ever and anon
g on the table, told a
le was neatly, though

poorly clad, and was busily employed knitting s
woollen stocking, her long, thin fingerg plying the
needles with surprising agility, acquired, doubtless,
by long habit. She could not be more than twenty-
one or two, though the sombre melancholy arising
from her solitary and helpless slate, cast a gloom, as
of many additional years, on her otherwise pretty
lace. Near her lay a young infant in a cradle, which
she kept rocking with her foot, trolling ever in an
under tone a wild, mournful air. On the floor by
her side sat a little gentle-looking girl of four or five
years old, while a bold, strong boy some few years
older, was whetting a piece of stick in a corner be-
hind the stove, At a first glance one might sup-
pose that the young woman was the mother of the
children, but such was not the case, for when sheoo-
casionally suspended her ditty in order to call them
to order, they answered her by the name of Peggy.
But it was not often that she spoke, for her soul
seemed oppressed by some heavy sorrow, and she
sat, apparently wrapped up in her gloomy imagin-
ings, though there was noise enough in the room to
distract any mind less collected than her own. At
the table, within four or five feet of where she sat,
were seated some three or four men, with a capa-
cious black bottle before them, from which they oc-
casionally replenished tlieir glasses. As yet there
was none of the party actually intoxicated, although
they were all what is ealled " half-seas over." In
their dress, and they were all dressed pretty nearly

% t

180

cos o'regan ; ob,

alike, the men were a singular compound of tbe la-
borer and the seaman, with a mixture, too, of the
peculiar characteristics of each class in their speech
and manners. More or less prominent in each was
the fiank, good-natured bearing of the sailor, with
much of his swart and sun-browned color. One of
them was an old acquaintance, Tom Derragh, who,
with his fellow prisoner, Barney Brady— his host on
the present occasion— had got out of jail some few
weeks before, their term of imprisonment being at
last ended. Their two companions were 'longshore-
men— or ship-porters like themselves, men after their
own hearts, who ever acted on the principle of chas-
ing " dull care away,'' who made it a rule, like tbe
grasshopper in the fable, to sing and be merry while,
ihey might, leaving the morrow to shift for itself.
Yet these were men who had from nature both
energy ivnd activity to carry out useful and laudable
purposes — they were gifted with the full measure of
personal strength, and had courage to brave all
earthly ills — but, alas! they were cursed with the
improvident, careless spirit^which has been the ruin
of myriads of their race, numbers of whom might
have gained an honored place in society, and be-
queath ample fortunes to their children, were it not
for that fatal blight. True it is that, like the vast
majority of their countrymen, these gay, rollicking
'longshoremen were —

" More fit to practice than oo plan,"

era

compound of the !»•
mixture, too, of the
class in their speech
ominent in each was
y of the sailor, with
vned color. One of
Tom Derragh, who,
J Brady — his host on
out of jail some i^^f
iprisonment being at
ions were 'longshore-
lelves, men after their
the principle of chas-
de it a rule, like the
~t and be merry while.
iw to shift for itself,
id from nature both
t useful and laudable
,h the full measure of
sourage to bruve all
^rere cursed with the
lich has been the ruin
ibers of whom might
e in society, and be-
children, were it not
is that, like the vast
, these gay, rollickiDg

I 00 plan,"

EMICRAS'T LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

131

•Ise they would long before have discovered that
they were on the wrong track, and must needs '^ tack
about" if they would have anything to support them
m their declining years, or to bequenth to their
families after them, for, unfortunately, they were all
husbands and fathers, with the ex ieption of Tom
Derragh. But left to their own guidance, they fol-
lowed their own natural and acqaired instincts, and
followed them to their ruin, as many have done
before, and, in all probability, many will again.

They had been talking in a reckless," mocking
way of Brady's and Derragh's recent imprisonment.
That naturally led to Phil JfcDermot, who was
generally voted a « low lived rascal," for the fact of
his refusing to contribute towards the expenses of
Peter Bergen's funeral had been one of the first com-
municated to Tom and Barney on their leaving the
jail.

" By japers !" cried Tom Derragh, " it will be ten
times as much out of his pocket before I'm a year
older. If it wasn't for him and his dance Barney
and myself wouldn't have got into limbo as wo did,

but what would we care— no by ," swearing a

strange and novel oath too fearful to be repeated—
" I wouMn't care a chaw of tobacco, if the fellow was
what he ought to be— if he had the least mite of a
heart, the ungrateful blubber !"

Tiie sentiment was echoed all round, but the gen-
eral indi,i,Mation wherewith McDertnot was justly
regarded was unhappily extended in a measure, at

\ %

132

co\ o'kf.qax ; OR,

least, to P»ul Bergen, who had forfeited the §ym-
palhy of his former associates by his recent adop-
tion of sober habits.

" He's not the stuff after all," said Barney Brady,
draining his glass, an example which the others were
not slow to imitate ; " if he was, he wouldn't be led
by the nose as he is. I took him to be a first rato
fellow, an' never expected to see him said and led
by his wife "

" I wish to God there was more than Paul Bergen
said and led by their wives— many a broken heart it
would save, and many a poor family that's in the
height of misery might then be happy and comfort-
able ! If Paul Bergen hadn't left off drinkin' when
he did, he wouldn't have a wife now to be advised
by. Shame on you, Barney Brady ! is it you that
talks that way of Paul Bergen, becase he took him-
self up in time from his evil ways, and took the
heavy warnin' that God gave him ! Yourself made
a promise only a week ago that you'd do as ho did,
and shun liquor altogether— is this the way you're

keepin' it?"

It was the blind girl who spoke, and her words,
•harp and bitter for her who was naturally quiet and
reserved, made a visible impression on her rough but
kindly hearers. None of them spoke for a moment,
but sat looking on each other in blank surprise.

" As for Tom Derragh," said Peggy, and there was
a slight tremor in her voice, " there's no use talkin'
to kim. I suppose we may give him up altogether."

OH,

1 forfeited the §ym-
by his recent adop-

' said Barney Brady,
hioh the others were
8, he wouldn't be led
him to be a first-rate
ee him said and led

ire than Paul Bergen
tany a broken heart it

family that's in the
B happy and comfort-
left oflF drinkin' when
"o now to be advised
rady ! is it you that
, becase he took him-

waye, and took the
lim I Yourself made
,t you'd do as ho did,
» this the way you're

poke, and her words,
7&a naturally quiet and
Bsion on her rough but
1 spoke for a moment,
in blank surprise.
i Peggy, and there was
there's no use talkin'
ve him up altogether.*'

IMIORANT UFK m THE MEW WORLD. Igg

Tomwas quite unmanned by this most unlooked-for
attack. Ills color came and went, he pushed the glass
from before him, and narrowly escaped upsetting the
late " centre of all hearts"-the black bottle. Then
drawmg his chair hastily from the table, he said
after some ineffectual attempts to speak : '

" Why, Peggy Bawn, you're comin' out strong,
mavourneen!_wby didn't you say all this before,
an not be keeping it all locked up in that queer little
heart of yours ? Now, you know well enough that
1 m not half so bad as you'd make it appear. Come
now, Peggy, tell the truth !"

" I know," said Peggy, after a short pause, "that
you're not half so bad as yourself makes it appear-
but for all that, you can't deny that you're onj
of the foolishest gomerih in this city. Ii' you
weren't, it isn't sittin' there boozin' and drinkin'
you'4 be, and you only just gettin' out of a jail. If
you go on a little longer iu the way you're doin', I'm
afeard, if God hasn't said it, you'll come to w'orso
than that. But, sure, after all, there's some of them
far worse than you are, becase they have others de-
pend in' on them, which you have not."

" Well, if I haven't I ought !" said Tom, with deep
feeling, " and it's your own self knows that well, my
poor girl ! But there's a good time comin', Peggy
dear— it's never so dark, you know, as when it's near
day."

"Talk's cheap, Tom," was Peggy's curt reply, m

134

CON o'beoan ; OR,

Bhe resumed her knitting with increased aBsidaity at
though to make up for lost time.

"I know what you mean, Peggy," said Tom, now
thoroughly sobered, " but to let you see that I can
act as well as talk, I'll not taste another drop this
night. Will that please you ?"

"Oh! then, indeed, it's not hard to please Twe,"
said Peggy, in her quietest manner. " Whatsom-
ever pleases God is sure to please me." This was
said in a tone of good reserve, which showed pretty
clearly that Peggy desired no farther conversation
at that time, and her wish was evidently law both to
Tom and Barney. The latter was Peggy's brotbtsr-
in-law, being the husband of her only sister, with
whom she had come to America some five or six years
before. Her connection with Tom, and the power-
ful influence which she seemed to exercise over him,
notwithstanding her pitiable helplessness, was a
mystery to most of their acquaintance, and many a
biting sarcasm it gave rise to, at Tom's expense.
These unkind remarks, however, were generally
made in his absence, for there were few of his asso-
ciates, reckless as they were, who cared to arouse
his ire, and it was fully understood by all who knew
him intimately, that if he was sensitive on any one
point it was on Peggy Daly's misfortune, and bo
great was his respect for her that none might dare
to mention her with levity in his presence. In fact,
Peggy's virtues were such as to command respect
from all who knew her, and inasmuch as she had a

I
1
e

to
Jfl

icreased asBidaity ai

:gy," said Tom, now
; you see that I can
ie anolber drop thia

hard to please we,"
anner. " Whatsom-
jase me." This was
vhich showed pretty
farther conversation
vidently law both to
vas Peggy's brothfsr-
ler only sister, with
some five or six years
Com, and the power-
to exercise over him,
helplessness, was a
lintance, and maiiy a
, at Tom's expense,
ver, were generally
were few of his asso-
vho cared to arouse
ood by all who knew
sensitive on any one
3 misfortune, and to
hat none might dare
is presence. In fact,
to command respect
lasmuoh as she had a

EMIGRAXT LIFE IJC THE NEW WORLD.

185

firmer and more vigorous mind than her sister Anty
■o her opinion had more weight with Barney than
that of his wife, who was apt, at times, to let her
temper get the better of her reason.

When the brief colloquy between Tom and Peggy
was brought to a close, Barney cleared his throat
once or twice, and eaid, with a significant glance at
his companions beyond the table :

"Blood alive, Peggy, sure you wouldn't be so
hard on us all out ? Now, you know well enough
1 didn fc taste a drop good or bad since last week—
exceptm' the glass a day that I left myself liberty
to take-an' sure isn't it Ned and Jack here that
wanted to trate Tom and myself-how could either
of us get over takin' a little then ?"

"A little!" repeated Peggy, with scornful em.
phasis. " If you could any of you stop with a little,
•orry Id be to say. one word to you about it, but
you know you never stop at a little. Now just let
me alone, all of you, for it doesn't become a poor
dark crature like me to be talkin' up this-a-i^ay to
men that ought to know their own affairs better
than me."

" There now," said Tom, in an under tone, " you
see there's no reasonin' cases with her. Take my
advice and let her alone."

" I b'lieve you're right," said Barney, in the sam«
tone, and he handed over the bottle to Ned and
Jack, making a sign for them to fill their glasset.
As for himself he followed Tom's example, not-

188

CON o'kkoan ; OR,

withstanding the pressing invitation of the others,
made partly by signs and partly by whispers. See-
ing ho'Y mattera stood, they very soon took up
their hats and went away, Ned telling Barney when
he accompanied them to the stair-head, " that 'ere
girl's a witch, take my word for it."

" She has bewitched Tom, at any rate," responded
Jack. Barney laughed, but said nothing, for his
wife just then appeared 00 the landing-place below,
and he hastily retreated into the room, glad to get
quit of the two before Anty got back. Little did
be suspect that she bad been in rearoh of Andy
Dwyer, for whom she knew he had a high respect,
hoping that his presence would have the effect of
" scattering the school," as she said to herself, " and
« hopeful school it is — my heavy curse on 'the day
inlucky Barney Brady got in with such company !"

" Why, what's in the wind, now ?" said Anty,
throwing the door open, and casting a hurried
glance around, the scowl still on her brow, but a
smile on ber thin lips ; " I met two of the black
sheep on the stairs abroad — is the bottle empty,
Barney, or what's come atwixt you ?"

Rushing to the table she seized the bottle and
held it up between ber and the light, but to her
great surprise it was still half full. Then she
turned and took a leisurely survey of Barney and
Tom, but neither of them was " the worse for
liquor."

" Well, I deolare, that's oarions," said she, with

nation of the others,
by whispers. See-
very soon took up
telling Barney when
air-head, " that 'ere
■ it."

iny rate," responded
aid nothing, for bia
landing-placo below,
e room, glad to get
)t back. Little did
in tearch of Andy
bad a high respect,
I have the effect of
said to herself, •' and
vy curse on 'the day
ith such company !"
. now ?" said Anty,
casting a hurried
on her brow, but a
et two of the black
a the bottle empty,
you ?"

lized the bottle and
he light, but to her
alf full. Then she
irvey of Barney and
iraa " the worse for

ioaa," laid she, with

BMIfiRAN'T LIFE IS TUB NK(T WORM).

18T

another glance at the bottle j " I think it's dramia'
I am, sure enough."

Barney only laughed, and evidently enjoyed his
wife's amazement, but Tom hastened to reply, and
said it was all along of Peggy, " for all she sits
there knittin' her atockin' as mute as a mouse."

" Ha ! ha !" laughed Anty, as she proceeded to
take off her cloak and bonnet, which she hung on
ft pin behind the door, contiguous to an old tarpau-
lin hat of Barney's. " Ha I ha I Peggy, honey, it's
yourself can do it when you like. There's nothing
too hot or too heavy for you."

"Never mind them, Anty," said Peggy, raising
her eyes in the direction of her sister's voice, with
a smile of matchless humor playing around her small
mouth; "they're only making game of you — you
know what a pair of lads they are. Did you bring
me that yarn I wanted ?"

This was only an excuse to hide the real object
ot her sister's absence, but Anty took the hint, and
replied that Irwin's store was closed, so she didn't
go any farther as it was gettin' late.

" Anty," said Peggy, " I have good news for you.
Tom Derragh is goin' to lave off drinkin' and take
himself up, and as for Barney here he's going to
Btiok to his promise like a man."

Anty was by this time in high good humor, and
extended her hand to Tom with a gracious smile, B»y<
Ing, " Give me your hand, Tom ! — there's hope for
jrou yet. Stick to that notion, and you'll uoou dhow

-—^mgrnpt-

138

CON o'regan ; OR,

them what yoa can do. There's time enough yet tc
do well."

" I mean to try, Mrs. Brady," said Tom, hia eyes
Btill fixed on Peggy's sightless, yet animated coun-
tenance, with a look of oningled sorrow and admira*
lion, very different from the usually stolid expres-
sion of his features.

" Say with God's help," put in Peggy, softly.

"Where's the nse of saying thatf said Tom,
bluntly ; " if I can I will, that's all I"

Peggy shook her head and sighed. Hardly
another word did she speak during the evening,
except when returning Tom's good night. Even
then she barely said what was necessary, nothing
wore.

"She thinks now that I can't keep my word,"
said Tom to himself, with some, bitterness, as be de-
scended the long dark staircase, which seemed to
him of interminable length, " but I'll let her see I
can. And after all she takes too much on her — she
talks to me all as one as if I were a child— how she
does catechise one, and pat words in a fellow's mouth
that he never meant to say. She cau just wind peo-
ple round her finger — it's well we're not tied to her,"
he added ; "and yet," said a voice from his inmost
ber.rt— "it isn't my fault that I am not— blind and
all as she is now, there's nobody like Peggy-— poor
Peggy !" and a heavy sigh brarst from his heart as
he stepped forth at last into the cold, calm moon-

OR,

's time enougli yet tc

' Baid Tom, bis eyes
, yet animated co'jn-
I sorrow and sdmira'
sually stolid exprcs-

n Peggy, soflly.

g that?" said Tom,

all !"

nd sighed. Hardly
during the evening,

good night. Even
8 necessary, nothing

a't keep my word,"
I. bitterness, as be de-
96, which seemed to
Hit I'll let her see I
>o much on ber — she
jre a child— 'how she
Is in a fellow's mouth
le can just wind peo-
re're hot tied to her,"
sice from his inmost
[ am not — blind and
!y like Peggy — poor
Bt from his heart m
be cold, oalm moon-

KMtGRANT LirE IN THE NEW WORLD.

18»

light. He looked up for a moment at the starry
heavens and the beautiful queen of night

" As she floated aboTe,
In her robe of light,"

und be thought of the days long, long past, when he
was young, and gay, and happy, because innocent
and free from the corrupting influence of bad com-
pany. He heard again bis father's admonitory
words of wisdom, his mother's sweet song as she
turned her wheel by the wintei's fire on the well-
swept hearth— thence his busy memory wandered to

" The cliflT-bound inch, the chapel in the glen,
Where oft with bare and reverent locks he stood
To hear th' eternal truths."

These old home pictures were before him in all
their beautiful simplicity, and under the benign
spell of Peggy's prudent counsel, he was softened
for the moment to a sense of his unworthiness, and
could easily have been brought to say : " Qod be
merciful to me a sinner !" but, alas ! there was no
one near to foster the rising sentiment into a salu-
tary feeling of remorse, and the whole current of his
thoughts was instantly changed by the voice of a so-
called friend, a boarder in the same house, who hap-
pened to pass at the moment. Not sorry to get rid
of his gloomy cogitations, Tom willingly oonoented
to accompany h'rs friend to a raffle in the neighbor-
hood, and off they went together, on fun, rather
thau charity intent.

140

cc X o'regak ; or,

Tom's good resolutions vanishea liTse the morning
miat before the exciting influences surrounding him
on every side at the raffle. It had been originally
got up for the benefit of a poor widow whose large
family were in urgent need of some immediate as-
sistance. Two of her b-ys had fallen into the hands
of the philanthropical authorities of that most chari-
table city, and it cost the poor mother some weeks
of constant application and assiduous exertion before
they were restored to her Popish arms. The Widow
Mulligan was a hard-working, industrious woman,
ekeing out a subsistence for herself and her family
by washing and charring. She was a fervent, con-
scientious Catholic, and would willingly see her
children in their coffins, as she said herself rather
than have them brought up Protestants. These sen-
timents, together with her well-known honesty and
industry, naturally excited a stioug sympathy in her
favor, and soon after her honorable victory over the
" Friends and Fathers" .of the city, a small clock was
purchased by a few generous friends for the pur-
pose of having it raffled for the benefit of Widow
Mulligan. Ever ardent and impulsive, and warm-
ly susceptible of right feeling, the Irish seldom
pause to think of the fitness of the course which
their fervid sympathy dictates. There was a large
number of people, both male and leraale, at this
raffle, on the evening appointed for the great event.
They assembled even before the hour specified, at a
tavern, not far distant froni Mrs. Mulligan's dwell

3a lilce the morning
es surrounding him
had been originally
widow whose large
ome immediate as>
illen into the hands
of that most ehari-
nother some weeks
OU8 exertion before
arms. The Widow
ndustrious woman,
lelf and her family
was a ferrent, con-
willingly see her
said herself rather
stants. These sen-
nowu honesty and
ig sympathy in her
le victory over the
r, a small clock was
ends for the pur-
benefit of Widow
tulsive, and warm-
the Irish seldom
tiie coarse which
Fhere was a large
nd female, at thia
)r the great event,
lour specified, at a
Mulligan's dwell

EMIORAKT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

141

ing, the landlord of said tavern having kindly offered
the use of his largest room for the occasion. It is
needless to say that the raffle put nearly as much
money into his pocket as it did into that of Mrs.
Mulligan, a dance being got up, as usual, after the
raffle, and all the world knows that dancing makes
people mighty thirsty. A handsome sum was
realiaed, it is true, for the worthy widow, but many
a pocket was emptied in the course of the evening,
or rather night, and many a good resolution disap-
peared — as in the case of Tom Derragh — disap-
peared, perhaps, for ever. The charity that waa
done might have been done in another way, just as
effectual, without being made the occasion of un-
necessary expenditure, and an incalculable amount
of sin and misery.

As for Tom Derragh, when he once got " on the
spree," there was no knowing where or when his
" spree" was to end. Work of any kind was out of
the question, as long as money or credit lasted, and
it was only when both were utterly exhausted that
Tom brushed himself up and Trent in quest of some-
thing to do. During these fits of dissipation, Tom
always took good care to keep as far as possible
from Barney Brady's dwelling, although it some-
times happened that Barney himself was one of his
companions in these rambles, or "roving commis-
sions," as they facetiously styled them. On the pre-
sent occasion, however, Barney was not of the par-
ty and when Tom ventured to present himself in the

148

co!r n'KEOAX or,

fonrth-Btory chamber at the farther end of Hope
street, a day or two after he had returned to his
work, he found Barney listening attentively to a cer-
tain account of « Wonderful Shipwrecks," read by
no less a person than Andy Dwyer. Tom entered
■with a sheepish, lounging air, as though conscious of
deserving no warm reception, and though Barney
nodded with his wonted kindness, "the woman-
kind" (as Monkbarns would say) hardly condescend-
ed to notice him. Anty bade him, indeed, a cold
"good evening," then went on with her work as
though he were not in the room, while Peggy,
though she started on hearing her sister saiute him
by name, spoke not a single word. Andy Dwyer
raised his head a moment from the book, with a
formal " How are you, Thomas ?" for it was one of
Andy's peculiarities never to address any one by the
ordinary abbreviation of his or her name, always
giving it as his opinion that by what name soever
they were baptized, by that name they should inva-
riably be called. " If we have a saint's name," would
Andy say, '< it's a burning shame to disrespect it with
a nickname." Many an attempt had he made to in-
duce his acquaintances to correct their pronunciation
of his own name, but somehow they seemed to have
a perverse satisfaction in. calling him Andy, and,
after some years' constant application, he had resign-
ed himself to his fate, and suffered the Apostolic
name of Andrew to lie over, " leaving it all to tbeif

ther end of Hope
ad returned to his
ittentively to a cer-
pwrecks,'' read by
yer. Tom entered
hough conscious of
ad though Barney
ess, " the woman-
hardly condescend-
im, indeed, a cold
with her work aa
om, while Peggy,
r sister salute him
id. Andy Dwyer
the book, with n
for it was one of
•ess any one by the
her name, always
what name soever
they should inva-
lint's name," would
» disrespect it with
lad he made to in-
heir pronunciation
ey seemed to have
? him Andy, and,
ion, he had resign-
ed the Apostolic
vitig it all to their

EMIGRANT LIFE W TUB NKW WORLD.

143

they knew any better they

own itjnoTance — if

wouldn't do it." ,

Having timidly slid himself into a sea , Tom be^
gan his endeavors to break the ice wuh sundry
"Sticks of candy" wherewith he had prudently p.o-
vided himself. These, managed as he well knew how
to do, soon gained the unqualified favor of the two
children who were quietly placed one on either knee^
Still Anty maintained her frownmg silence, and
P ggy mi.ht have passed for a little squatmg
stafue, wer; it not for the unceash. -ot.on of h r
fin<.ers as she pursued her endless t k. At length
Tom, drawing his chair near her, ventured to ask^
almost in a whisper, if she had been well ever smc«
ho saw her. A flush, most probably of anger,
crimsoned Peirgy's fair face, as she replied, some-

what snappishly:

"This is no time for talkin'-don't you bear the

man readin' ?" „ . , „i.

Barney smiled, and nodded at h.s friend as much
as to say: "You're in for it now, my lad! and
Tom, disconcerted and embarrassed, was fain to
make a show of listening to Andy, winhing him at
the same time, in Jericho, " himself and h.s book of

Bhipwracks." . ,

At length Ar^y dosed his book, observing that
it must be getting near bed-time, and Tom ^as r.gU
Blad to effect his retreat at the same time, notwith.
Standing Barney's question of "What's your hurry
manf

144

CON o'krcan ; OB,

" Oh! never mind him," said Peggy, speaking for
the first time since her sharp rebuke of Tom's ill-
manners. "He has a power of business on hands
these times. You know he has to count his money
over now an' then, an' look after many a thing that
we don't know of"

" That's the old proverb all over, Peggy," said
Tom, sharply—" When a man's down, down will
him. I didn't expect such jibes from yaw."

" Do you tell me so ? ah ! then why, if it's no harm
to ask ?"

" Good night to you all!" said Tom ; " I see there's
no use talkin' to some people !" and without wait-
ing for an answer he followed Dwyer down stairs,
internally resolving " not to go there again in «
hurry.'*

WeiUHT Ur« IN THK NEW WORLD.

Peggy, speaking for
rebuke of Tom's ill-
r bnsiness on hands
to ooant his money
' many a thing that

over, Peggy," said
down, down witl
from yoM."
why, if it'g no harm

"om ; " I see there's

and without wait-

>wyer down stairs,

1 there again in •

CHAPTER IX.

M.ANwn.LB Winny O'Kegan kept faithful watch
by the sick bed of Rachel Coulter. After her arri-
val, the sick-room was well nigh left to herself and
her unconscious patient, Mrs. Coulter thinking it
wholly unnecessary for either herself or Hannah to
enter its dangerous precincts. Pastilles were burn-
ed in the room, and aromatic vinegar was sprink.ea
profusely in the adjoining passage. Disinfecting
fluids were placed at doors and stair tops, and every
precaution WM taken to prevent the contagion from
. .reading. And all this time, that is to say for mno
i. ng nights and as many days, Winny remained m
c! nstant attendance on the sick girl, her meals being
left for her outside the door of the chamber. Hu-
man nature could not have withstood such prolong-
ed and incessant fatigue, especially in the enfeebled
Btate of Winny'. health, but Mr. Coulter came to
her relief, and took her place by Rachels bed for
Bome hours every night, so that she was enabled to
gel some rest on a sofa in the adjoinhig room. Mrs.
Coialter often remonstrated with her husband on this
imprudout exposure of himself, for which there wa.

CON o'rEOAN ; OB,

not, according to her. the slightest necessity. Buc
she spoke to ears that would not hear; for Mr. Coul-
ter had no mind to leave the whole risk and the
whole fat.gue to one poor, delicate girl, herself only
recovering from a tedious illness.

'■It was I that asked her to undertake this thing,"
-aid he "and I feel bound to see that she be not
overtasked-her present strength is not much, and
It would certamly kill her to watch night and day by
a bed of contagious disease."

"Weill you are always so soft, Samuel !-now
don t yo« suppose that this girl would have taken the
nursing ,n hands if she didn't think she had stren<.th
enough to go through with it. And then, I gu^ess
you intend to pay her well for her trouble, so I really
think shem,ght be permitted to discharge the duty

nI7./? ; !' '"^'^'^- ^ ^° ««- Samuel, you
ne dn t look so hard at me-I know these Irish very

thing if they are only paid for it."

Mr. Coulter only answered with a look, and turn-
ed away, saymg within himself: « If this be the fruit
of vital religion. I thank God I have forsworn it long
ago Better a thousand times the natural prompt
ngs of man^s own heart, than the stern, cold, selfish
teachings of what is called religion. Pclig ou in-

ascended to his daughter's room. "A fig for reli-
gion say Il^ne drop of the milk of huLn k „d.
nes, IS worth a bushel of religion !_give me, for my

or
b<

li
r
f
s
1
f
s

OB,

dtest necessity. Bm.
t hear; for Mr. Coul-
I whole risk and the
iale girl, herself only

ndertake this thing,"

see that she be not

th is not much, and

■tch night and day by

soft, Samuel! — now
rould have taken the
ink she had strength
And then, I guess
r trouble, so I really
' discharge the duty
io so, Samuel, you
low these Irish very
san bear almost any-

th a look, and turn-
"Ifthis be the fruit
ive forsworn it long
he natural prompt-
3 stern, cold, selfish
?iop. Pcligiou in-
lated, as he hastily
»• " A fig for reli-
Ik of human kind.
!— give me, for my

EUIGRAST Ure IN THE NEW WORLD.

14t

creed, the golden rule : Do unto others as yon would

''strwis Mr. Coulter's characteristic soliloquy on
th! comparative merits of religion and benevo enc .
IleliKion was, in his mind, identified with the barren
Ss forms, the "human -ventions^' mcknamed
religums, wbi«h he saw around him. He saw th n.
fuS on- selfishness, vested in hypocrisy as 'a
adllored garment," preaching universal olerat on
but practising universal intolerance of tbe ^^^^^^^
':d most relentless kind. His heart, -tu- Hy - ™
and susceptible of all kindly ^-ottons, mstmcttv f
shrank from such a system of hypocrisy, so harsh
od so Bballow. It never occurred to him that cha-
Hty-frce, warm, spontaneous char.ty-.s the mse-
plble a junct of true religion-tbat "the one can-
Tot exist tithout or independent of the other, and
That religion, ««//««^ charity, would be as fire wit.
out flame. Such a conception of religion would
have enlisted all his generous sympathies, and most
probably have made him a sincere Christian, but un-
happily'- naturally upright mind was shrouded, as
regarded spiritual matters, in the gross darkness
Xh then, as now. enveloped and overshadowed
the great mass of his countrymen.

ofentering the sick-room. Mr. Coulter was greet-
.d with a burst of fervent gratitude from W.nny.
uTlTanks be to God, sir. Miss Rachel has got a urn
for the better-she knew me a little while ago whe«
The opened her eyes after that long tranoe she wa.

148

COH O'REOAN ; OB,

in ever since last night when you were here. But
Bir dear! don't speak above your breath, for she's in
a kind of a doze now-just see how natural she
looks, an' how regular an' soft her breathin' is."

Mr. Coulter, stooping over the bed, had the in-
tense satisfaction of finding Winny's statement quite
correct. "Well!" said he. " Winny, if she get.
over ,t, I may thank you. Your care arfG attention
have done more for her than the two doctors could
have done."

"Under God, sir, under God," said Winny hasti-
y, fearful of encouraging, even by a momentary si-
lence, what she deemed a criminal detraction from
the paramount claims of God. " It was little I did
or could do, if He didn't enable me. Blessed be
11.8 holy namiB I" and she raised her humid eyes to
heaven. "'

"Well! well!" said Mr. Coulter, petulantly,
have It your own way, Winny-still you must al-
low^at we owe you some small share of gratitude."
Why, then, to be sure, sir, I did what little I
could, but that's neither here nor there. How is
Con, if you please, sir, or do you know did he get
eer a letter from homeP" She had not seen her
brother since she took Rachel in charge, though he
caed every day at the door to make inquiries^

Oh I he 8 very well. Winny." replied Mr. CouL
ter, only very anxious on your account, as I can
•ee oIe«rIy, although he does not choose to say m.

ago
II

in Ii

hca

Ra<

the

last

his

she

tha

hi^

fat

hei

ro(
uV

BO
SCi

to
w

cY
nl
bl

a were here. But,
' breath, for she's in
•e how natural she
9r breathin' is."
e bed, had the in-
ly's statement quite
V^inny, if she gets
care arifl attention
two doctors could

said Winny hasti-
)y a momentary si-
»l detraction from
It was little I did,
i me. Blessed be
tier humid eyes to

lulter, petulantly,
-still you must al-
lare of gratitude."
did what little I
r there. How is
know did he get
had not seen her
Jharge, though he
ike inquiries,
■eplied Mr. Coul-
iccount, as I oun
BbooB* to aay la

■lUOBANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

14t

Qe has had a letter from his wife, a couple of days
ago, and I believe his family are all well."

" Thank God for that same I" ejaculated Winny,
in her soft, whispering accents. " It's a comfort to
hear that, anyhow. But, hush-hush-there's Miss
Rachel stirring. I declare she's wakin' up, sir."

The exquisite joy of that moment amply repaid
the fond father for the heart-wearing anxiety of the
last few weeks, and as he met the speaking eye of
his child and clasped the little attenuated hand which
she held out to him, he involuntarily breathed his
thanks to God as fervently as Winny herself could
have done. Rachel was about to speak, but her
father laid his commands on her to be silent, telling
her to be a good girl and do whatever Winny told
her, and that she would soon be weU and " aiiout
again." Rachel cast ai inquiring glance around the
room, and her face expressed disappointment as she
uttered the word "Ma?"

« Oh ! your ma is down stairs— she'll be up very-
soon, I dare sayw III let her know that you wish to
see her. Good-bye now, Rachel, and mind what I

told you."

The joyful news which Mr. Coulter went all the
•way to the kitchen to communicate was received by
his wife with edifying composure. She was rejoiced,
indeed, as what mother would not? at the favorabk
change which had take;, place in her child, but still
she shrank from the danger of contracting the terri-
blc malady.

160

CON o'reoam ; OR,

" You know, my dear," said she m her faintest
accents, " that I am almost exhausted after the un-
usually hard work which I have been obliged to do
du ing the last couple of weeks. I would, therefore,
be predisposed to catch the infection, and what
would become of you all if / were laid up ?"

"That is very true. Prudence," said her husband,
Mniling at the marked emphasis laid on the pronoun
I; "on the whole it may be more prudent for you
to keep away. Ahem ! Prudence is, undoubtedly.
a Christian virtue. If Winny O'Regan had been as
prudent as you are, my good woman," he muttered,
as he ascended the kitchen stairs, « Rachel might be
on the other side the great gulf by this time. To
the mischief with such Christian virtues if they
harden a mother's heart and fiU it with icy selfish-
ness I"

With this burst of just indignation Mr. Coulter
descended the steps, and was soon lost in the busy
crowd hurrying to and fro in the street without.
He and his partners were that day to meet the
agents of the various insurance companies for the
final arrangements of matters concerning the late
fire. The character of the firm was so well estab-
lished that the insurance officers knew not well how
to bring forward an objection which must necessa-
rily have involved a charge of fraud, and, moreover,
their repeated investigations had elicited nothing
that could in the slightest degree justify such a
•harge, so that they had no alternative but pay the

she in her faintest
lausted after the un-

been obliged to do
I would, therefore,
infection, and what
're laid up ?"
," said her husband,
laid on the pronoun
)re prudent for you
nee is, undoubtedly,

Regan had been as
)man," he muttered,
S " Rachel might be
r by this time. To
ian virtues if they
L it with icy selfish-
nation Mr. Coulter
on lost in the busy
the street without.
t d&f to meet the

companies for the
loncerning the late
was so well estab-
knew not well how
hich must necessa-
lud, and, moreover,
id elicited nothing
ree justify such a
native but pay the

KWORANT LIFB IN THE KKW WORM).

151

amount of their various policies, which they did wi h
no very good grace, the sums be:ng respectively
larger than it was to their liki.g to advance^

This grand affair being happily settled, the bust-
ness of the firm was speedily resumed in another
building in the same street. At a prehminary meet,
ing of the partners, previous to the re-opemng of
thfir warehouse, the question of "the hands" was,
of course, brought under discussion.

"Now who are we to keep, and who to get nd
of?' said Wood. " The present is a good opportu-
^ity to make any changes to that effect which we
may think necessary or advantageous.

.< If my advice were taken," said Pims, with a
Bidelong glance at his senior, " there should be none
of these confounded Irishmen about the premises^
I guess we shall bring a storm about our h.ads
some of these days by retaining so many of them
in our empi'^vment. We shall not be allowed to
eo on much longer in defiance of P"^ .°/l^'7"'
tak« my word for it. But I suppose," ho added,
ntill more pointedly, "there would bo no use m
tanking of sending that O'Regan adnft-ho has
laid us under such p-esshig obligations.

Wood evidently enjoyed this homethrust at Coul-

ter but the hUer replied very coolly in his blunt

'y .'Never inind ORegan; I don't mtend to

employ h-un any more in the concern. So leave htm

out of your calculations."

Never was afltonishment more plainly depicted

0<»» o'rkoan ; OR,

Tent on h? '^°^'^'^"'«" *«>«" 't was at that mo.
ne^s W th I'TT'^Sen of the junior part.

mixture of H ' i"''' *'^''"" ^"« •"> unmistakeable
mixture of hope-hope that " the favorite '• as thev
usually styled Con. had disobliged Mr. Conl er «
jome way that had turned his hlest heart Igl^

"Why,ho«r is that?" said Wood; "have v>„
then, been deceived in him P" ^ '

non-such of porters '"

matters of greater importance 1" ""toother

Con's countenance fell. He ^as evidently taken
thrioe, he go. courage to say in » careless way :

; on,

ban it was at that mo-
38 of the junior part-
ivas an unmistakeable
the favorite," as they
Jliged Mr. Coulter in
I honest heart against

Wood; "have yon,

Pirns, wholly nnable
■ thonght he was the

8 triumph which his
ook a laudable plea-
iter-hooks where he

s done," he replied,
m. As an Irishman
I will take upon me
efficacious manner,
aad go on to other

>n, which happened

>ruptly saluted him

r, O'liegan— your

in our establish-

18 evidently taken

•8 throat twice or

a careless way :

EMIGRANT LIFK IH TH« NEW WORLD.

158

■ Well, sir, I'm sorry to hear it, but I suppose it
ean't be helped. I was tbinkin' you'd be for keepin'
mo on, but as you're not, why I must only try if
I can find another situation."

"And that will be no easy matter, I can tell
you," said Mr. Coulter, gravely. " In the present
state of public feeling, the best recommendation I
could give you would hardly procure you employ-
ment amongst the merchants of this city. You
see yourself how excited the populace are against
you Irish, and employers are more or less exposed
to public censure by having anything to do with
you.'

" Well, sir," said Oon, with a sigh, " that same is
hard enough, for Pm sure they'll never find any one
to serve them more faithfully than most of us do.
Still, as I said, it can't be helped. If all goes to all,
sir, why we must only go to some other city in
search of employment."

"Even that would not better your condition,'
said Mr. Coulter. "All our principal cities in these
Eastern States are, I am sorry to say, equally into-
lerant at the present time as regards you. But,
cheer up ! Con— things are not quite so bad as you
seem to think. I told you on the night of the fire
that Sam Coulter was not ungrateful, but I have as
yet given you no proof that what I said was true.
How would you like to go out West and settle on
a farm— a farm of your own, Con, mind that?"
Con's eyes sparkled and his cheeks glowed. He

"^ ,«

154

CON o'reoan ; OR,

Beemed half afraid to admit the possibility of snch a
thing. " la it how would I like it, Mr. Coulter P —
oil, then, indeed, sir, it's the very thing I would like,
if— if — it could ever come to pass. But sure it can't
— there's no such good luck in store for me."

" How do you know that ?" inquired Mr. Coulter,
sharply.

" Why, sir, I'm told it takes a power of money to
get settled on a farm. Isn't that place you speak of
very far away, sir ?"

" I spoke of no particular place," said Mr. Coulter,
smiling. " I said the West in general. There are
three Slates to which the rush of settlers is now
tending — these are: Illinois, Wiscons'n, and Iowa,
all of which bid fair to be great and flourishing
States. Many of your countrymen are to bo found
in each of them already, I understand, so that you
will find yourself quite at home in any of them."

Con smiled and shook his head. " To be sure I
•will, sir — when I get there. But where is the money
to oome from ?"

"That's the secret," said Mr. Coulter; "but as
you must know it sooner or later, I believe I may
fis well tell you now. I promised my two partners
this day that I would dispose of a troublesome fel-
low of your name, so as to clear him off the premises.
Well ! I happen to have a brace of old maiden sis-
ters, who have little to do with Ihei money besides
carrying out their odd notions. Now they both
happen to have conceived an interest in your wel

possibility of snch a
;e it, Mr. Coulter ?—
"y thing I would like,
38. But sure it can't
store for me."
Dquired Mr. Coulter,

a power of money to
it place you speak of

se," said Mr. Coulter,
general. There are
\\ of settlers is now
riscons'n, and Iowa,
reat and flourinhing
men are to bo found
erstand, so that you
in any of them."
ead. " To be sure I
t where is the money

r. Coulter; "but as
ter, I believe I may
led my two partners
)f a troublesome fel-
him off the premises.
!e of old maiden sis-
thei money besides
8. Now they both
iterest in your wel

IMIQRANT MFE IX THE NEW WORLD.

155

fare from certain representations made to them at
limes regarding you and Winny-not that they have
ever seen much of her, poor girl! for they and my
wife are not on the best of terms, and so they only
cross my threshold once a year, when they make
their New Year's visit. But I see them myself from
time to time as opportunity oflfers, and, as I told
you-at least I think I did-they are willing to lend
>ou some three or four hundred dollars for the pur-
;, .se of settlinp . a a farm out West, until such timen
as you can pay it back, which I know will not be
long. Do you understand?" He saw that Con
looked embarrasEjd as well as surprised. ^

" Oh yes, sir, I understand— well enough— but
then it would never do for a poor man like me to go
under such a load of debt. I'd never be able to pay
it, sir. Not but what I'm entirely obliged to the

old ladies "

Mr, Coulter laughed. «' It's well for you, said he,
"that you're not within their hearing when you
speak of them as old ladies, else I fear your chance
would be forfeited. Ladies are never old, Con 1 aBd
especially unmarried ladies— remember that !"

«'D'ye tell me so, sir?" said Con, in surprise.
«' Well ! that's something I never knew before— I
thought the quality grew old just like other people,
an' I wouldn't have called your sisters old, only
yourself said it the first. I ask your pardon, Mr
Coulter, if I made too free."
• •'Tut, man, there is no need of any apology; I

<18«

CON o'kEOAN ; OR,

merely meant to put yon on your guard— you Be«
the truth is not always to be told. But, come!
what shall I say to my sisters ?"

" Well, sir! if you'll just be good enough to tel-
the young ladies," with a sly emphasis on the adjec-
tive, which made Mr. Coulter smile, "that I'm for
ever obliged to them, and that if there's any reason-
able prospect of my bein' able to pay back their
money, I'll take the loan of it with all the veins of
my heart. But you know, sir, and you'll please to
Bay so, that I have to consult with Winny, and
another thing I'd like to try an' find out whether
there's any priests or chapels in them parts. I'll
ask Father Timlin, sir, this very day."

" Very well, Con, that is all fair enough, but I
Jiope you will make up your mind to embrace this
golden opportunity, let the priests or the churches
be as they may. If you mm this chance yon may
never have such another !"

" It won't be my fault, Mr. Coulter, if I do miss
it, for it's what even Biddy— that's my wife, sir !—
tells me in her letter that if I could get a spot of
land of my own, if it was only six or eight acres,
where we wouldn't have any rent to pay, she'd be
the proudest woman of her name."

"Six or eight acres!" repeated Mr. Coulter;
"and would you call that a farm in Ireland ?"

" Why, then, to be sure we would, sir, an' if a
body had that same at any kind of an easy rent, he
might live happy and comfortable on it—but it's

OR.

lUIGRAKT l.irK IN THE NEW WORLD.

161

your guard—you sea
)e told. But, come!
?"

<e good enough to tel-
imphasis on the adjeo-
r smile, " that I'm for
; if there's any reason-
)Ie to pay back their
i with all the veins of
', and you'll please to
lit with Winny, and
an' find out whether
in them parts. I'll
ry day."

II fair enough, but I
oind to embrace this
iests or the churches
this chance yon may

Ooulter, if I do mias
hat's ray wife, sir ! —

could get a spot of
' six or eight acres,
ent to pay, she'd be
le."

sated Mr. Coulter ;
n in Ireland ?"

would, sir, an' if a
I of an easy rent, he
able on it — but it's

the rents, sir, that keep down the poor farmers in
Ireland, and drives them away out of the country
altogether,"

"Poor people!" said Mr. Coulter to himself;
" poor people ! what a melancholy story is theirs,
and yet how little sympathy do they meet from
those who have all the benefit of their expatriation I
— ^tlieir great and numerous virtues pass unheeded,
and only their faults are noted to be magnified into
heinous crimes !— well, Con!" he said aloud, "you
will think of what I proposed to you— talk it over
with your friends, at your leisure, and let me know
the result!"

" I will, sir, and may the Lord bless yon— but Mr.
Coulter," going a step after him, " I forgot to ask
about Miss Rachel— how is she the day, sir ?"

«' Much better. Con, I thank you — so much better,
indeed, that Winny will soon be at liberty again —
that is" — he was going to add, " provided she do not
catch the infection," but glancing at Con's eager,
anxious face, he suddenly stopped, and muttering
something about having deVayed too long, he hastily
turned away, while Con stood looking after him in
amazement till he disappeared round a corner.

The clock in Mr. Coulter's hall had just struck
seven that same evening when Con O'Regan rang
the bell and told Hannah who opened the door that
ho wished to speak with Wiilny. The young lady
civilly invited him to walk in end sit down, and
away she ctripped to inform Winny^ taking care^

15«

COM o'keoan ; OR,

however, to keep at a safe distance from the door of
the prohibited chamber. Telling her young patient
that she would be back in a very few minutes, Winny
descended the stairs with a light and rapid step,
thinking only of the pleasure of seeing her brother,
and hearing from his wife and children, forgetting
for the moment the danger of conveying the infec-
tian to Con, when just at the head of the first stair-
case, she came full against Mrs. Coulter, who was
leisurely proceeding to her own chamber. Mrs.
Coulter drew back in great trepidation, at the sume
time admonishing Winny to keep off.

" Dear me I Winny," she exclaimed, in tremulous
accents, " how very thoughtless it was of you to come
Bo near me when you saw that I didn't observe
your approach ! — now, if I should happen to take
that dreadful fever, I shall have only you to blame !
— what on earth are you doing here?" and she kept
moving away from Winny, holding a vinaigrette con-
taining aromatic vinegar to her nose.

"I'm going down to see my brother, ma'am," was
Winny's quiet answer, " though maybe it's what I
shouldn't do when there's snch danger of infection.
Still I'll go in God's name, for I know Con won't
fear to have me near him if there was a plague on
me, let alone a fever. Will you please to pass on,
ma'am, till I get going down stairs?"

The passage was quickly cleared, and Winny could
not help laughing as she made her vay to where Con
sat. The fraternal salutation was even M%rmer than

ce from the door of
; her young patient
lew minutes, Winny
;ht and rapid step,
seeing her brother,
children, forgettinj^
onveying the infec-
ad of the first stair-
. Coulter, who was
wn chamber. Mrs.
idation, at the same
poff.

limed, in tremulous
i was of you to come
it I didn't observe
lid happen to take
only you to blame !
lere?" and she kept
ig a vinaigrette con-
lose.

rother, ma'am," was
1 maybe it's what I
langer of infection.
I know Con won't
e was a plague on
1 please to pass on,
irs ?"

id, and Winny could
r way to where Con
8 evea warmer than

IMIORANT LIFK IN THB NEW WORLD.

mntA, M the brother and sister clasped each otber'«
hand, and exchanged scrutinizing glances. Con's
eyes filled with tears as ho hastily took in the in-
creased emaciation of his sister's face and form, but
Wiuny, reading his thoughts, did not choose to en-
courage them.

" So you've got a letter from Biddy, I hear !— how
are they all at home ?"

" All well, Winny, thanks be to God, and Biddy
sends her love and best respects to you. But j.\\
give you the letter to read." And he put his hand
in his pocket in search of the precious missive.

"No, r.o, Con! not now!" said Winny, hastily,
" when I go out from here— if I'm living and well, I
can read it then, but there's no use takin' it up into
the sick-room. An' what news have you. Con ?"

" The best of news, Winny ! — the best of news I
—an' you'll say when you hear it that I'm one of
the luckiest men livin'."

«' Why, what in the world is it, Con?" cried Winny,
involuntarily catching a portion of her brother's ani-
mation.

Con proceeded to relate his conversation of the
morning with Mr. Coulter, Winny listening with a
kindling eye and a glowing cheek. She had hardly
patience to hear him out.

" Well ! and did you go to Father Timlin, Con ?—
and what did he say ?"

«' Oh ! he said I might make myself quite easy with
regard to the clergy and the ohurehes, for that if

160

CON 0'REOA>f ; OH,

there's not a priest or a oburoh in every settlement,
there soon would, he was sure. He said he'd wish
me to go to the State of Iowa, for that there's a great
number of Irish people — good Catholioa — scattered
all over it, and that there will bo more and more
goin' every day. Now, Winny, isn't that a good
chance that the Lord has given us?"

" It is indeed. Con, blessed be His name !" She
was about to say something else when the door bell
rang, and whispering to her brother to come soon
again till they would talk the matter over, Winny
opened the door and admitted the doctor, who was
come to pay his evening visit. Dr. Richards was
not an old man, but neither was he what might bo
called young, so that he came under the category
of "middle-aged gentlemen," although there was
that in the flashing glance of his eye when he chose
to turn it full on any oue, which told of passions
naturally strong and never subjected to restraint.
Still his demeanor was staid and rather dignified,
and as he stood at the very head of his profession,
lie was favored with an extensive and lucrative
practice, chiefly among the higher classes, and hia
little backslidings, if perchance he had them, were
politely permitted by his patrons and patronesses
of the conventicle to " rest in the shade," as trifles
unworthy of notice. On the present occasion the
doctor seemed a little surprised when the door was
opened by Winny, whom he had not seen for
weeks long out of the sick-room, and his surpriM

OR,

in every settlement,
He said he'd wish
ir that there's a great
Catholios — scattered
1 bo more and more
y, isn't that a good
I us ?"

be His name !" She
le when the door bell
rother to come soon
matter over, Winny
the doctor, who was
:. Dr. Richards was
as he what might be
I under the category
although there was
is eye when he chose
lich told of passions
ibjected to restraint,
ftnd rather dignified,
tad of bis profession,
ensive and lucrative
^her classes, and bis
I he had them, were
ens and patronesses
the shade," as trifles
present occasion the
} when the door was
a had not seen for
om, and bis snrpriee

IMIORAKT UFK IN TIIK NEW WORLD.

161

was nowise lessened by the sight of our friend Con,
who stood with his hat in his hand almost behind
the door. The doctor's quick eye glanced from
the handsome young Irishman to the now blushing
face of Winny, who felt a little embarrassed by the
rencontre, suspecting in a moment the wrong con-
struction which might be put on the affair.

" So, Winny," said the doctor, " your patient must
bo going on well this evening when you can come
down to receive visitors."

" Yes, air, I think Miss Rachel's a great deal bet-
ter, and I just came down to speak a few words to
my brother here. I'm goin' up now."

"Your brother, eh ? — oh ! I beg pardon, I thought
it had been somebody else." And the doctor chuckled
in a singular way as he mounted the stairs. Winny
only waited to let Con out and then hastened back
to her post. She found the physician in the act of
feeling Rachel's pulse.

" Our patient is decidedly better," he said. — " very
much better, indeed. You have cheated death for
lliistime, Rachel. Good news that for pa, — a'nt it ?"

He then asked Winny a few questions relative to
the patient, and having obtained satisfactory an-
swers, he said with a peculiar smile : " You are
a clever girl, Winny, — a most excellent nurse, and
as such T can safely recommend yon, should you
think of continuing at the business."

" I thank you kindly, sir," ssud Winny, " bat I
have no thonghts of that — it was only to oblige Mr.

162

CON o'regak ; OB,

-^^mmmr-

Coulter that I came to mind Miss Rachel, an' I know
I'm no great hand at the business. But sure I done
all I could."

" You did very well, indeed, Winny, better, in
fact, than many a professional nurse would have
done." He had now reached the passage, when he
suddenly remembered that he had given Winny no
directions as to the patient's diet, and called her for
that purpose. Having given her the necessary
orders, he seized her hand and drew her farther
down the narrow hall, Winny trying in vain to ex-
tricate her fingers.

" Winny," said he, in a low whisper, almost close
to her ear, " I know exactly how you stand here —
I a'm well aware of Mrs. Coulter's base ingratitude
— don't engage witli her again on any account.
Mrs. Richards wants a chambermaid just now, and
I will see that yon get better wages than any one
else. Won't you go at once and engage with her?"
The doctor's whole manner was bo strangely fami-
liar, his looks so excited, and hin tone so impassioned,
that Winny trembled all over and renewed her
efforts to get away, not deigning a word of reply.
But when he went still farther, approaching his face
quite close to hers, with an unmistakeable inten-
tion, Winny, as if suddenly endowed with twofold
strength, snatched her hand from tire grasp of the
tibertinc, and with that same hand gave him such a
blow on the face that he staggered back against the
wall.

P
a

t
ii
C
t'

V
f!
P

n
f

<1
I

((

c
1

B
C
ll

■ iTrt iiB \ i *Mi llii i<»j"#Wirf >i "- ■

OR,

iss Rachel, an' I know
ess. But sure I done

ed, Winny, better, in
il nurse would have
the passage, when he
had given Winny no
liet, and called her for
1 her the necessary
nd drew her farther
• trying in vain to ex-
whisper, almost close
ow you stand here —
ter's base ingratitude
ain on any account,
lermaid just now, and
r wages than any one
ind engage with her?"
r&s so strangely fami-
R tone BO impassioned,
er and renewed he?
ning a word of reply.
", approaching his face
unmistakeable inten-
ndowod with twofold
Tom thtJ grasp of the
hand gave him such a
rered back against the

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WOni.D.

16S

" Take that now," said the angry girl, as she
passed him at full speed ; " that'll teach you to keep
a civil distance from the like of me for the time to
come. If ever you dare say a word of the kind to ine
again or take any liberty whatsomever, I'll tell Mr.
Coulter so sura as my name is Winny O'Regan!" —
and shaking her fist at him, sie entered Ilachel's
room and closed the door after her, leaving the doc-
tor to find his way down stairs as best he might.

Winny was well pleased to find that Rachel bad
turned to the wall and was already half asleep. Fall-
ins on her knees she once more offered herself to
God and solemnly placed hersci. under the protec-
tion of the ever-blessed Virgin, which was her con-
stant practice, th'en she arose, strong in the might
of faith, and said to herself: "The smooth-faced
vagiibond' — isn't he a nice lad to have attendin' a
family ? — but sure ho thought / was only a poor sim-
ple Irish girl and that he could do as he liked with
me. I'll go bail, though, that he'll keep clear of me
from this out!"

As for the doctor, he made his way down stairs aa
quietly as possible, holding his handkerchief to his
bleeding nose, alternately vowing vengeance against
" that uncultivated Irish virago" and framing ex-
cuses for his accident in case he met Mrs. Coulter.
Fortunately, that lady w.is in the kitchen preparing
supper, 80 that the worthy physician, finding tha
coast clear, stepped noiselessly to the door and let
bimself oat.-/F

164

roH o'bman

CHAPTER X.

FoK a few days after the incident recorded at tha
end of our last chapter, Dr. Richards continued hia
daily visits, and Winny was no little surprised to see
that his manner towards herself was just the same
as before. Not the smallest degree of embarrass-
ment did he macifest even on the following day ;
neither was there any appearance of resentment.
He seemed to have forgotten all about the affair of
the previous day, and gave the necessary directions
in a tone of the coolest indifference, just as though
nothing unusual Lad happened. But it was not so
with Winny, who could not so easily forget the
shameful insult that had been so lately offered her
by the man before her. The fresh, unsullied purity
of her heart made her shrink with disgust from him
who had dared to take such a liberty, and do as
Rhe would, she could not look him in the face, but
received her orders in profound silence with only a
Dod of assent.

" Do you hear what I say, my good girl ?'' said
llie doctor in a raised voice, apparently determined
to make her speak. But Winny, on her side, wai

IB.

EM'JRANT MFE IM THE NEW \VORI,D.

165

lent recorded at thu
ihards oontinacd his
ttle surprised to see
f was just the same
egree of embarrass-
the following day ;
moo of resentment.
1 about the affair of
necessary directions
CDce, just as though
, But it was not so
80 easily forget the
so lately offered her
esb, unsullied purity
ith disgust from him
I liberty, and do as
him in the face, but
i silence with only a

my good girl ?"' said
parently determined
ny, on her side, WAt

jHsf. as ('^-.ermined, and she, therefore, nodded again.

" I fe?- your nurse is becoming deaf, Rachel 1"
said Dr. Richards, addressing his patient.

"Oh dear no, doctor," said Rachel, quickly;
"Wlnny hears quite well. I was speaking to her
just before you came in, and she heard every word
I said. Bat Winny don't ever talk a great deal —
dear Wlnny,'' and she held out her hand to her
nurse with a look of the tenderest affection.

" She probably thinks the more I" was the doctor's
sarcastic answer, as bidding Rachel good morning
he hurrif/: down stairs. In the hall he was met by
Mrs. Co'y'.ter, who invited him into the front parlor
and asked how ho found her daughter.

" 3h ! your daughter goes on very well — very
well, indeed. I hope to have her down stairs in a
week or so. But what sort of person is that Winny ?"
This was said in a very pointed manner, and, as the
doctor expected, at once ezcited Mrs. Coulter's
curiosity.

'Why, really, doctor, I hardly know how to
answer your question, although she hat lived hero
for some years. She is Irish, as you must be aware I"

"I know it, Madam, and, of oourse, that accounts
for some of her eccentricities, but there is still ranch
that requires explanation. Excuse me, Mrs. Coul-
ter ! nothing but my great and heartfelt interest in
your family could induce me to interfere in such
matters. Do you propose keepir j this girl on ?"

" Well 1 1 certainly did intend to keep her, doctor,

ISA

CON o'rkgax ; OB,

but if you Lave found out anything discreditable—
of course, that alters the case. I would not keep a
doubtful character in my house on any account.
Pray, doctor, what have you heard or seen that
makes you think Winny an improper person?"

" Oh! I beg your pardon, Madam," said the bland
physician, «'I did not say improper. That is too
strong a word. I only meant to state for your in
formation, that Winny is very bold and forward in
ber demeanor. Her example is no great advantage
for young ladles, I assure you."

The doctor rose as he said this, and was moving
towards the door with a grave and courteous bow
but Mrs. Coulter detained him.

" Well 1 really, doctor, you surprise me !— now, let
Winny have what other faults she might, I always
thought her very modest indeed. But then there is
no trusting these Irish. They are wholly destitute
of principle, and — how, indeed, could it be otherwise,
benighted as they are ? The mean, hypocritical jade !
I shall pack her off this very day at an hour's notice 1
I always thought her too -smooth to be sincere !"

This unexpected warm.,a rather alarmed the doc-
tor, who had good reasons for wishing to avoid a
Budden outbreak. " Now really, Mrs. Coulter," said
he, turning back a step or two, " if I had ever dream-
ed of your acting so, I should not have said a word
on the subject. I tell you, I saw nothing ponitively
bad in the girl's conduct — I merely warned you, in
order to put you on your guard There is no need

KMIORANT I.IFB IN THE NRW WORLD.

16t

ng discreditable—
would not keep a
) on any account,
card or seen tbat
•per person ?"
im," eaid the bland
oper. That is too
) state for your in
)ld and forward in
QO great advantage

is, and was moving
ind courteous bow

jrise me !— now, let
16 might, I always

But then there is
ire wholly destitute
mid it be otherwise,
n, hypocritical jade !
at an hour's notice I
1 to be sincere !"
sr alarmed the doc-
wishing to avoid a
Mrs. Coulter," said
if I had ever dream-
ot have said a word
V nothing poHitively
rely warned you, in

There is no need

to exasperate Mr, Coulter at present by bringing
any charge against his favorite, and, besides, my dear
Madam, what would your daughter do just now
without her? Just lot matters stand as they are
until Rachel is quite recovered, and then you can
quietly dismiss Winny without assigning any reasons.
That is my advice, and I speak, as you are well
aware, from my sincere friendship for you. I do
not desire to injure this girl, but rather to serve you."

The doctor's reasoning was so cogent that the lady
was forced to yield, though she did so with great
reluctance. She knew it would be next to impossi-
ble to convince Mr. Coulter of any impropriety on
the part of Winny, and neither could Winny's pre-
sence be very well dispensed with as matters stood,
so Mrs. Coulter bad nothing for it but to " bide her
time." The doctor, on his part, watched her from
under his bushy brows, as a cat watches a mouse,
and seeing that he had brought her round to the de-
sired point, he made his bow and retired, well satis-
fied with the result of his first vengeful attempt.

Things went on smoothly enough for five or six
days. Rachel was at length convalescent, and Dr.
Richards discontinued his visits, charging Mrs. Coul-
ter in a parting interview not to do anything rash
with regard to Winny, but to get her off as quietly
as possible. " And while she does remain in your
house," said he, " be careful how you permit her to
Btand in the hall with ' tall Irish cousins' — or brothers''*
—he added, with smiling emphasis. " Be true to

iJifi&faVtK^fl ■-♦

168 CON o'bkoan ; ob,

your own character, now as ever; uniting the gen-
tleness of the dove with the cunning of the serpent.
Good-bye, dear Mrs. Coulter ! I hope to see you at
class-meeting this evening."

«' If possible, I will be there, doctor. Good-bye !
About the end of the week, Mr. Coulter had tho
unspeakable joy of assisting Racl.el down sta.rs to
her usual place in the family circle. Winny was
hardly less rejoiced, and she could not help follow-
ing the father and daughter to tho dining-room
door, 80 as to enjoy unseen the pride and pleasure
of seeing Miss Rachel in her old place. Tears of
joy coursed each other down her pale cheek as she
observed the trembling eagerness with which Mr.
Coulter anticipated his daughter's wishes and sup-
plied her little wants. Having feasted for a few
pleasant moments on this joyful scene, she stole up
to her own little room on the attic story, where,
mtiing down on the side of her bed, she began seri-
ously to think of what she had next to do.

" It'll be hard for me to get away from here," said
she to herpolf, " as Mrs. Coulter has no girl. To be
sure, she'll soon get as many as she wants, when
onoe the sickness is over, an' I can't think of leavin'
her till she suits herself. If it was only on Mr.
Coulter's account, and Miss Rachel's, I'd stay longer
than that to oblige the family, though, goodness
knows ! I don't owe the mistress anything ! Bat
then— no matter— if «he asks me to stay, I will, •!
any rate."

■; uniting the gen.

)ing of the serpent.

hope to see you at

>ctor. Good-bye !"
Ir. Coulter bad Iho
chel down stairs to
sirole. Winny waa
aid not help folio w-
Lo the dining-room

pride and pleasure
id place. Tears of
er pale cheek as she
689 with which Mr.
er's wishes and sup-
^ feasted for a few
d scene, she stole up
i attic story, where,

bed, she began seri-
next to do.
iway from here," said
p has no girl. To be

as she wants, when
can't think of leavin'
it was only on Mr.
ichel's, I'd stay longer
y, though, goodness
.ress anything ! But
me to stay, I will, at

KUIORAKT UFE IN THK NRff WORLD.

169

Having thus made up her mind, Winny went
down stairs again, and seeing that tea was over, she
timidly asked at the door : " May I take down the
tea-thinge, ma'am ?"

" Yes !" said Mrs. Coulter, with more than her
usual coldness. Winny cleared the table, without
a word, and Mr. Coulter gave a reproving glance at
his wife, who only smiled contemptuously, as she
walked with her daughters into the front parlor.

About an hour after, when Winny had just finish-
ed washing the tea-things, Mrs. Coulter made her
appearance in the kitchen, and told her that as she
had now fulfilled her engagement, she was at liberty
to go whenever she pleased. Aflfecling not to notice
Winny's look of surprise, the lady went on : "I
need make no apology, for I know you are well
pleased to get away, Winny 1 You will have no
trouble, I dare say, in finding another situation !"

"I hope not, ma'am," said Winny, coldly; "but
do you wish me to leave to-night ? — if so, I bad
better go at once, as it is getting late."

" Oh my, no ! I should be sorry to have you
leave at such an hour as this. To-morrow, after
breakfast, I will pay you whatever you think right
for caring Rachel, and you can go then as soon a»
you like. Good night, Winny !"

Winny's reply was scarcely audible, for her heart
was too full for words. When Mrs. Coulter had
left the kitchen, nhe glanced around to see that
there was nothing out of its place, and then sat

CON o'keoax ; on,

down in tbe darkest corner, to enjoy the luxury of
grief. Thankful that no mortal eyo beheld her, she
gave herself up for a long, long time— how long she
hardly knew — to the mournful reminiscences of de^
parted joys, of days

" Too purely bUst to last."

Visions of domestic happiness, based on the cease-
less interchange of heart-warm affection, arose in
their sunny light, shedding a transitory beam on the
loneliness and desolation of her state at that hour.
Soothed by these sad yet sweet recollections, she
gradually began to remember that a'l the past was
not effaced— all her loved ones not yet gone. She
■was not yet al:ine in the wide world. Her brother
remained, and what was more, she had him wiihin
ten minutes' walk of her. Why then should she do-
ppond? Why should Mrs. Coulter's heartless in-
gratitude cause her so much pain ? " Sure I had no
right to expect anything else fi om the same woman,"'
said she to herself, "for it's little else ever I saw by
her. It wasn't for her sake I did what I did, an' I'd
cheerfully do it over again for the master— God's
blessin' be ab-.nt him now and forever! And sure
isn't he putting Con in a fair way of doin' well in
earnest, an' please God he'll have a place of his own
far away from this, an' he'll have Biddy and" the
little ones out in no time, an' I'll bo there to see it
all — with God's assistance," she &dded, suddenly re-
collecting herself. "Ah! Mrs. Coulter dear, it'i

>r.>A«i*w*.^!«<*aSi«iS8»ll*l«w^t»**»*«»**»«»»'««^*«'*^^

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLn.

;rjoy the luxury of
eyo beheld her, she
Lime — how long she
eminiBcences of de«

last."

jased on the cease-

afifectioi], arose in

nsitory beam on the

• state at that hour.
;t recollections, she
hat a'/ the past was
not yet gone. She
?^orld. Her brother
she had him wiihin

• then should she do-
lulter's iieartless in-
n ? " Sure I had no
m the same woman,"'
le else ever I saw by
id -what I did, an' I'd
r the master — God's

forever! And sure
way of doin' well in
re a place of his own
have Biddy and" the
'11 bo there to see it
added, suddenly re-
I. Coulter dear, it't

little I'd care about your odd ways then! But if
anything comes to prevent it"— yes! that was a
serious consideration !— but "Winny's sanguine hopes
—so newly excited — were not to be so easily crushed,
and she quickly answered her own saddening doubt,
with her favorite axiom—" It's all in the hands of
God, and Hell bring this about and everything else
that's good for ns, just as he brought me safe through
the dangers of the last two or three weeks!— 1 know
He will !" and with that, Winny jumped from her
seat, and bounded up the stairs as buoyant as hope
could make her, to answer the master's ring, which
just then echoed through the house.

The old gentleman smiled and nodded in a way
peculiar to himself, saying, as Winny took his hat,
"It does mo good, Winny, to see you at your post

again 1"

Winny's thanks were cut short by the shrill voice
of Mrs. Coulter, whose head projected from the
dining-room door, back in the hall. " Is that Mr.
Coulter ?" was her somewhat superfluous question.

" Don't you see it is ?" replied her husband, who
somehow did not relish the question or the tone in
which it was put.

" Well ! I didn't know but it might be some of
Winny's visitors, and I have no idea of permitting
such people to be introduced here at such a time."

Winny was already at the head of the kitchen-
stairs, but she turned back on hearing this singular
tpeeob, and confronting Mrs. Coulter with a more

§.

173

coK o'keoan )R,

confident look than she had, probably, ever before
assumed, or had had occasion to assume, she said :
" Will you please to tell me, Mrs. Coulter, what you
mean by them words ?"

"That is hardly necessary," said Mrs. Coulter,
turning mto the ro^m; "I rather think you under-
stand my meaning."

" I do not," said Winny, firmly, " but I must and
will know it. Mr. Coulter, I appeal to you, sir."

" Prudence," said Mr. Coulter, very gravely, " I
see you have got some new notion in your head.
Be 80 good as to explain it. 1 am confident that
Winny has nothing to fear from your speaking out,
and, moreover, she has a right to demand an expla
nation !"

Thus pressed, Mrs. Coulter was on the point of
repeating what she had heard to Winny's disadvan-
tage, when Buddculy remembering the doctor's
solemn injunction of secrecy, she wrapped herself
up once more in her freezing and tantalizing reserve.

"Don't be too confident, Samuel!" she said, ad-
dressing her husband ; " it may be quite as well for
Winny that I should withhold the desired explana-
tion—people do not always know what is good for
them. At all events, both you and she may rest
assured that I will not speak another word on the
bubject this night. Qo down stairs, Winny !"

Winny felt half inclined to persist in her demand,
but Mr. Coulter seeing that his wife was fully deter-
mined to keep her secret for that time, sMd to

A^'

,,^^,,tifm>mt ^^il ' »f l " <l t' « '« '^^ cfM m w i ffm tsiiK.-

BMIGRANT LIFE IN THB NEW WORLD.

ITS

bably, ever before
assume, she said :
Coulter, wbat you

laid Mrs. Coulter,
think you under*

■, " but I must and
jeal to you, sir."

very gravely, " I
Lion in your head,
am confident that
your speaking out,
I demand an expla

,8 on the point of
Winny's disadvan-
3ring the doctor's
le wrapped herself
tantalizing reserve,
uel !" she said, ad-
)e quite as well for
he desired explana-
w what is good for
and she may rest
other word on the
lirs, Winny !"
'sist in her demand,
?ife was fully d«ter-
tbat time, sMd to

Winny : " You may as well do as she bids you,
Winny. There is time enough to soo to thii
matter."

Obedient to her master's kindly-meant advice,
Winny descended to the kitchen, but not before she
heard Rachel saying from her place on a low sofa
near the fire: " Dear ma! how can you talk so to
poor Winny ? Think of all her kindness to me !"

What the mother said was lost to Winny's ears,
for she had no wish to act the eavesdropper, but
her heart swelled with grateful affection for Rachel,
as she murmured within herself: " She's her father's
daughter, every inch of her! — I did nothing for
you, poor child ! but what I'd do again to-morrow,
if you stood in need of it, let your mother be as
she may !"

Next morning, Winny was up betimes, and had
the breakfast almost ready when Mrs. Coulter
entered the kitchen, although she, too, was stirring
earlier than usual.

" You can go now as soon as you like," said the
lady of the house, with a frigid reserve, intended to
prevent Winny from asking troublesome questions.
'« How much have I to give you ?

" Nothing, ma'am, — ^not a oent I I wouldn't do
what I di 1 for any money,- -I did it on account of
ay master's kindness, and because I have a likin'
for Miss Rachel, ind I'll nfiver handle a farthing of
your money, Mrs. Coulter, with my knowledge or
consent. All I want of you, ma'am, is to tell me

COM o'rcoak ; OR,

what you liavo ia again lue, an' I'll not leave the
bouse till I hear it !"

Fearing lest her husband should be down stairs
before she could get rid of Winny, Mrs. Coulter
forgot herself so far as to say :

" Ask Dr. Richards— /ze'// tell you !" The words
were scarcely uttered when she was heartily sorry,
but it was too late to retract.

" Dr. Richards, ma'am !" said Winny, turning red
and then pale; "so he's at the bouora of the mis-
chief! — I might have guessed as much if I had only
thought a minute. Dr. Richards-indeed !— if he had
his way, I'd be what he says I am — but what am I
saying ? — I musn't forget my duty as a Christian ! —
May the Lord forgive him, poor man ! as I forgive
him this day — though it's hard enough to do it, I
don't deny — but still I do forgive him, as I hope to
be forgiven at my last hour ! — well! good-bye, Mrc.
Coulter ; I suppose there's nothing more to be said
— if you can so easily be made to suspect a person
who has lived in your family for nigh five years,
anything I could say wouldn't alter your opinion.
I leave ray case in the hands of God, and He'll show,
in His own good time, whether Dr. Richards and
you wronged me or not. Good-bye, ma'am ! I sup-
pose you don't want me to see Mr. Coulter before
i go, 80, of course, I'll not ask to see him. He
knows my heart, and that'a enough for me."
Taking up her little bundle, she was leaving tb«

•\ 4

n' I'll not leave the

iild be down stairs
Vinny, Mrs. Coulter

1 you !" The words
a was heartily sorry,

Winny, turning red
bouom of the mis-
9 much if I had only
Js-indeed!— if hehad
am — but what am I
aty as a Christian ! —
or man I as I forgive
I enough to do it, I
Lve him, as I hope to
well ! good-bye, Mrp.
hing more to be said
3 to suspect a person
for nigh five years,
i alter your opinion.
God, and IIo'll show,
jr Dr. Richards and
-by e, ma'am ! I s o p-
I Mr. Coulter before
)k to see him. He
i enough for me."
she was leaving tb«

tMIORANT I.IFB IN THK NEW WOULD.

116

kitchen when Mrs. Conlter delayed her a moment
to insist on her taking payment.

" Yon really must take something for your trouble,
Winny ! I cannot let you go unpaid."

<' I've told you already, ma'am, that I never mean
to handle a cent of your money ! ' repeated Winny,
endeavoring to suppress her indignation. "No
money could make up to me for the wrong you have
done me, so say no more about it. Let me go m

^^^'^But won't you have some breakfast before

you go?"

" No, ma'am, thank you !-not a bit. I'll have my
breakfast where I know I'm welcome."

Nothing more was said on either side, and Winny,
quickening her steps on hearing Mr. Coulter moving
above, made her way to the door, and thence to the
street with the least possible noise.

When Mr. Coulter came down to breakfast he
was informed by his wife that Winny was " gone
off in a pet— pretty work, indeed !" she added, " for
no other reason than my giving her that friendly
advice last evening. Ah ! Samuel, Samuel. I fear
yon and I were both mistaken in that girl !"

" I don't know as to you," said the old gentle-
man, tartly, " but I have never been mistaken in
Winny. Never, never. Prudence ! nor never will, I
am pretty certain. I have always thought her a
most excellent girl, and so I think her still, Mrs.
Coulter. Pretty work, you say, and so say I, but

176

CON o'KZOiK ; OB,

in a far different sense. Pretty work, indeed, to
see such a girl turned out of this house after her
long.and faithful services — and, above all, after this
last heroic act of hers! — ah ! woman, you may well
bo ashamed of yourself ! yon are unworthy of having
a faithful servant, since you cannot appreciate
fidelity. You have been listening to some black-
hearted, foul-mouthed knave — most likely one of
your canting friends, who has never a good word
for anything Irish, and you have punished yourself,
I can assure you, not Winny, — she will make friends,
wherever she goes, and her character will stand the
test of inquiry, but you have deprived yourself of
Guch a servant as you will never have again on your
floor I — get my breakfast, will you ?"

" Why, Samuel, how you do talk !— if you only
knew who it was thi.t told me, you wouldn't speak
so lightly of the matter I'

" I don't care who it is, Mrs. Coulter ! if it was
the Rev. Irving Peabody himself I wouldn't believe
it any more than I do now ! Make !iaste with the
breakfast, I tell you, and let me go to my business I"

Imnedlately after leaving Mr. Coulter's, "Winny
proceeded to Paul Bergen's, where, standing on the
steps outside the door, she bade Mrs. Berg»n "good
morning," asking whether she might venture in.
Nora ran forward with outstretched ..unds to receive
her, crying out even before she reached her : " Ven-
ture in, Winny !— ay ! indeed might you if it was a
plague-house you were comin' from. Come in, astora

ty work, indeed, to
this house after her

above all, after this
Oman, you may well
I unworthy of having
cannot appreciate
ling to some black-
■most likely one of

never a good word
'^e punished yourself,
he will make friends,
racier will stand the
leprived yourself of

• have again on your
-ouP"

• talk ! — if you only
you wouldn't speak

i. Coulter ! if it was
If I wouldn't believe
Sdake haste with the
go to my business I"
tr. Coulter's, Winny
lerc, standing on the
I Mrs. Berg»n "good
might venture in.
ihed ..ands to receive
reached her : " Ven-
sigltt you if it was a
om. Come in, astora

KMIORANT LIFE IN THE NEW WOBU).

machree, until I get a right look at you. Well ! sure
enough, you don't look one-half so bad as I thought
you would. An' so, with the blessiu' of God, you've
escaped the fever !— och ! sure, sure, aren't you the
lucky girl, an' amn't I tb'^ joyful woman to see yoG
lookin' so well after your long fatigue— Glory, honor,
and praise be to God !"

The children were almost wild with joy to sep
their favorite once again, aud the two elder pouted a
good deal because they had to go to school that fore-
noon. But finding that their mother was inflexible,
aud being assured by Winny that they should find
her there on their return, they at length made their
exit, looking as woe-begone as possible. Whilst
Winny put her clothes in the box, remarking as she
did 80 that she had washed them well the day be-
fore, Nora had some tea drawn, and a nice round of
toast made, and poor Winny required no pressing,
for, as she said herself, what Mrs. Bergen gave
out of her hand did a body good, it was given with
such a good heart.

'■ An' now, Winny, what's the news ?" said her
anxious friend ; " I thought you'd be prevailed upon
to stay at Mr. Coulter's."

•' To tell you the truth, Mrs. Bergen dear, I
wasn't asked to stay. Mrs. Coulter seems to have
taken some dislike to me, an' as soon as ever Miss
Rachel was able to go about, she warned me to clear
out. She was in the kitchen this morning bright an'
early, to get me away before the master was afoot."

i^.MUfitsiifttiffK^^j^-

COM O'rKOaN ; OB,

_ The Lord bless me, Winny, xrhat 6ort of a woman
18 she at all?— why, she must have a heart as hard as
a slone I" Poor Nora's earnest simplicity brought
a smile to Winuy's face, but she merely answered :
" I don't know how it is. To tell the truth of her
I never found her hard-hearted until now-she had
always a cold, stiff kind of a way with her, but then
she had more feeliu' iu her at times than a body
would think. God knows how it is, and to Him I
leave It. I'm goin' to Father Timlin on Saturday
please God, before I go to any other place, ar' I'll
speak to him about it, an' see what he'll say."

It will be seen that Winny, with her usual pru-
dence, gave no hint of the real state of the caoe.
Wixen Saturday came she went to Father Timlin, and
after finishing her confession, told him as briefly ag
possible the whole affair from beginning to end

"And now, father," said she, " I want you to tell
me what's best for me to do."

"Have you spoken of this to any one-I mean of
that man's conduct towards you ?"
" No, father, not a word !"

•'You have acted wisely, ray child, and as became
a Christian. Persevere in the same course, and be
stire that God wiH UU. care of your reputation.
Nothing short of actual necessity should induce you
to 8peak of 8uch a thing. The evil designs of that
bad man were defeated through the ever-watchf,,!
care of Providence, and your own prompt decision.
Ue of good heart, daughter, for the shafts of the

OB,

what sort of a woman
ave a heart as hard as
St simplicity brought
le merely answered :
o tell the truth of her
d until now — she had
ay with ber, but then
at time?? than a body
!!■ it is, and to Him I
Timlin on Saturday,
y other place, an' I'll
i^hat he'll say."

with her usual pru-
al state of the caoe.
to Father Timlin, and
>ld him as briefly a»
eginning to end.

" I want you to tell

any one— I mean of

I?"

CJhild, and as became
same coarse, and be
of your reputation,
y sliould inc'uco you
evil designs of that
h the ever-watchfiil
vn prompt decision.
r the shafts of the

EMIGRANT I.TFE IN THE NEW WOItl.n.

179

wicked one fall powerless when aimed at those who
love God and trust in Him !"

Strengthened and consoleil by these paternal
counsels, Winny returned to her temporary home,
her mind freed from every shadow of uneasiness, and
prepared to take anything that might befal her as
coming from the hand of 6od. She saw Con that
same evening, and heard all ) . had to communicato
with regard to his change of prospects.

" I went to see the old ladies," said he, " as Mr.
Coulter told me, and they say they'll lend me the
money with all the pleasure in life. I declare they're
two fine old ladies, Winny, just the model of the
master himself, one of them especially, that's Miss
Debby, the youngest of the two. An' so, it's all
settled now that I'm to go out to Iowa early in the
spring, if I can find anybody goin'. But sure if I
don't, Winny dear, I'd never find my Avay at all-
how could I ?"

" Oh ! never mind that, Con," said his sister, with
tears that were neither all joy nor all sorrow trick-
ling down her faded cheek; " if it'a thj will of God
for you to go, you'll get safe to your journey's end,
you may be sure I But what about Biddy and the
children ? — won't you wait for them?"

" Oh no, Winny, the master says it's best for me
to go out there and prepare a home for them and
you before I send for you. You'll just stay as you
are till they come out from Ireland, and then, with
Giod'a help, I'll send for you all!"

i'S(e>-i

180

CON o'rBGAN ; OR,

Winny smiled through her tears, and was about
CO speak, but Paul Bergen broke out with :

" I wish to the Lord I was able to go with you,
Con !— if I was, I wouldn't call the king my cousip.
But sure, sore," he added, with a sigh, " what chance
has poor Paul Bergen of such a turn-np as that ?"

"Hut, tut, man, don't be so faint-hearted," said
Con ; " you don't know what may be in store for
you. See what lack came to me, jast when I wa»
least expectin' it."

" True for you, Con," put in Nora ; " people can
make luck for themselves if they only try— that is,
with the blessin' of God. And sure, Paul dear, if
we never get any uprise, only jist keep as we are,
why we can't complain. For my part, I'm as well
content as any poor woman needs to be— if we can
only get the children brought up in the love and
fear of God, I wish for nothing more."

" Yes, but Nora," said her husband, " if sickness
was to come on me, or death— what would you and
the children do?— you're not able for any hard
work, an' so they'd have an excuse that you weren't
fit to puppoit them, an' they'd take them every one
from you, f^t^ like as not, an' cram them into some
^cursed school, or House of Refuge, as they call
them, bad luck to them for man-traps, as they are !
where they'd be made ')Iaok Protestants of. How
would you like that, Noia ?"
"The Lord save us, Paul!" said Nora, with a

OB,

tears, and was abont
ke out -with :
able to go with you,
1 the king mj coueip.
a sigh, " what chance
a turn-up as that ?"

faint-hearted," said
may be in store for
me, just when I wa«

1 Nora ; " people can
ley only try— that is,
d sure, Paul dear, if

jist keep as we are,

my part, I'm as well

Beds to be — if we can

t up in the love and

r more."

busband, « if sinkness
-what would you and
b able for any hard
Buse that you weren't
take them every one
ram them into some
Refage, as they call
kn-traps, as they are !
*rotestant8 of. How

' said Nora, with a

EUIGBAK7 LIFE IM THK NEW WORLD.

181

pale cheek and a quivering lip ; " don't be talkin'
that way— don't now, an' God bless you,"

" Well, I'm only just telling you what might hap-
pen if the Lord was pleased to call me away ; an'
30W don't you think it would be a good chance if
we could get on a farm away out in a new place,
amongst our own country people, where we'd havo
no trouble in bringing up the children, an' where
you'd have a house and a lot of land to rear them on ?
eh! Nora?"

Poor Nora's eyes brightened at the cheering pros-
pect, but heaving a deep sigh, she said : " Where's
the use talkin', though, of what can never come to
pass ?"

« Never ik a long time, Mrs. Bergen," remarked
Con, as he moved towards the door ; " don't forget
the old saying : ' Hope well and have well !' — ^good-
bye now, all of you— I'll be here again, Winny, lio-
morrow evening, please God I"

183

CON o'bbgan ; 01,

oc
ki

CHAPTER XI.

Late in the forenoon on the following day, "Winny
waa surprised by a visit from two elderly ladies,
dressed exactly alike, in muff and tippet of rich
marten, and long cloak of the finest cloth. These
were the two Miss Coulters, who, equally benevo-
lent with their brother, had come to take Winny
home with them.

"We keep but one servant, Winny," said Miss
Coulter, " and we have had the same one for three
years. Of course, we couldn't think of parting her,
but my brother says that you can do plain work
very well, and so we can find employment for you.
But you must not expect high wages, Winny !— four
dollars a month is as much as we can give you, as
we pay Letty seven, and eleven dollars a month is
as much as wo can well afford. But then we can
promise you a comfortable, quiet home, and Letty
and you will get on well together — I am sure you
will. Don't you think so, Debbj- i"'

Miss Dobby did think so, and added that Letty
was an Irish girl, too — " that is," said she, " she ia
of Irish parents. She is not of your religion, Wiuny

a
f
f
I
1

««.

EMIGRANT UFK W THE NEW WORLD.

183

: XI.

5 following day, Winny
jm two elderly ladies,
iff and tippet of rich
lie finest cloth. These
I, who, equally benevo-
I come to take Winny

nt, Winny," said Miss
the same one for three
't think of parting her,
i-oa can do plain work
I employment for you.
h wages, Winny ! — four
as we can give you, as
ven dollars a month is
»rd. But then we can
quiet home, and Letty
gether — I am sure you
3bb> <"'

and added that Letty
,t is," said she, " she is
if your religion, Wiuny

but you mustn't mind that. There's no need quar.
relling about religion."

«' Well 1" eaid Mrs. Coulter, " do you think you'll
come, Winny ?"

«' Oh ! indeed, then I will, miss, and thank you
kindly for the offer."

" Very good, Winny ! we have a carriage at the
door, you see, and will take you right off."

" I am very sorry, miss," said Winny, hesitatingly,
" but Mrs. Bergen — that's the woman of the house-
is gone out to market, an' I can't well go till she gets
back."

" Oh ! if that's all, we can wait— can't we, Deb-

by?"

" Certainly 1" Miss Debby said, and down the two
ladies sat on chairs previously dusted by Winny
with much care. So they called to them little Jim,
who had been whipping his top before their en-
trance, but had forthwilh retreated into a remote cor-
ner, whence he looked with wondering eyes on the
" grand ladies," dwelling with as much curiosity as
admiration on their rich furs, which were something
new to Jim. It required many pressing invitations
from the ladies, enforced by an imperative command
from Winny, before the urchin would leave his cor-
ner, but at length he moved slowly out of his en-
trenchment behind a chair, and lash in hand, ap-
proached Miss Debby as the most prepossessing of
the two. At first the child was rather shy, but after
% while he became quite communicative, and even

184

TON REGAN ; OR,

ventured to aak what they were, poiating to Iha
furs.

" These, child ?" said the good-natured Debby ;
"oh I these are the skins of animals made into clolh<
ing for men and women." This solution was far
from being satisfactory to Jim, who continued to
eye the mysterious objects from time to time, as
though he wished he could make out what manner
of things they were. The visitors gradually wound
themselves into the boy's confidence, and he would
willingly have given them the most minute informa-
tion concerning matters in general appertaining to
the household, had they not themselves turned his
thoughts into another channel, by asking if he was
Borry to lose Winny.

" Lose Winny ?" he repeated, inquiringly.

" Yes, Winny is going with us, you know."

Thii was very intelligible to Jim, and he replied
accordingly : " Me no let Winny go."

" Oh I but she will come back soon to see you."

The child shook his head, and repeated stoutly :
" Me no let her go." Before any more could be
said his mother came in, bending under the weight
of her basket, though its contents were not very
heavy, and very much flurried, too, she was at sight
of the carriage, Seeing the two ladies so quietly
Bea'ed in her humble dv/elling did not tend to quiet
her nerves, but she nevertheless set down her
basket and dropped a very low curtsey, saying:

"Tour servant, ladies." Then seeing Winny put-

tin{

in {

yoi

"tt

to :

(

the
ast>
on(
I'a
it'f
Ui
yo

Be
on
to

th(

inj
W
pa
qu

BOi

til
th

; OB,

rere, poiatiog to tha

;ood-natared Debby ;
limals made into cloih*
This solution was far
im, who continued to
rom time to time, as
lake out what manner
itors gradually wound
ifidence, and he would
most minute informa-
eneral appertaining to
themselves turned hia
i\, by asking if he was

d, inquiringly.

us, you know."
9 Jim, and he replied
iny go."

ok soon to see you."
ind repealed stoutly :
e any more could be
ding under the weight
atents were not very
, too, she was at sight
two ladies so quielly

did not tend to quiet
leless Bet down her
V curtsey, saying:
Jcn seeing Winny put-

miGRANT MFB IN THE NIW WOBIJ).

185

ting on her bonnet, she approached her, and asked
in a whisper : " What are you about, honey ?— sure
you're not going away ?"

"Yes I am," said Winny, in an audible voice;
"the two Miss Coulters, you see, are come for me
to go an' live with them."

" Ha ! ha !" said Nora, exultingly, unmindful of
tho presence of the ladies : " See that now, Winny
oi/orc,— that's just the ould sayin' ; ' there never was
one door shut but there was another open.' Well !
I'm sorry to lose you, alanna machree ! but I know
it's for your own good this time, so I'll not repine.
May the Lord bless you, an' that He will, wherever
yon go."

After a few civil words from the sisters to Mrs.
Bergen, responded to by sundry smiles and blushes
on her part, they each gave Jim a quarter dollar
to buy "sweeties," charging him to divide with
the Janie and Patsey of whom ho had told them so
much, and not to forget the baby.

" But baby ha'nt got any teeth," said Jim, follow-
ing them to the door, partly to get a last kiss from
Winny and partly to impress the fact of baby's inca-
pacity to eat candy on the minds of his new ac-
quaintances. "Mother says he'll have some teeth
soon, though, and me can keep some candy for him
till then."

♦' Very good, Jim," said Miss Debby, stopping at
the door to pat the boy's curly head, " but I fear the
c»ndy won't keep so long," she laughingly added

186

CON o'rbgan ; OB,

•' Never mind, 1 11 send or bring you more before
then."

This promise was very seasonahle at the momen
as it served to divert Jim's mind from dwelling ou
Winny's departure, Avhich he now witnessed with
philosophic composure, wholly intent on showing his
prize to his mother, who stood at the bottom of the
steps till the carriage moved off, when having ex-
changed a parting nod with Winny, she hastily ap-
proached the cradle to look after " poor baby," me-
ditating the while on the wonderful goodness of God
in providing for those who love and serve Him. •

The house occupied by the Misses Coulter was a
neat, plain building in a private street, whose two
rows of brick were shaded and agreeably contrasted
by corresponding rows of tall trees. The house con-
Biste 1 of two apartments on the first floor, divided
by folding doors, and flanked by a narrow hall from
which the stairs led to two apartments of similar
proportions on the second floor, serving as bed-
rooms for the sisterp, while those below constituted
their parlor and dining-room. On tbe attic story
were two small rooms, one of which was Letty's
obamber, to be henceforward shared by Winny. The
other was used as a kind of store-room. The kitchen
was, of course, under ground, approached by an area
from without. Everything wiihin and around the
house was, as may be imagined, scrupulously neat,
and, to do Letiy justice, she was herself the picture
•f oleanKnesa, and the most active of servants,

althc
(Lor
Win
niigl
she '
girl

"]
aftei
Cou:
vey6
lianc
mus
rath

«]
mac
read
nev<
my
not.

Leti

girl;

((

pris
«

and
the
ful-:
goii
and

; OR,

ring you more before

lonable at the momeiit.
linJ fi ■ira dwelling on
3 now witnessed yfixh
r intent on showing his
i at the hottom of the
I off, -when having ex-
Winny, she hastily ap-
ftcr " poor baby," me-
derfnl goodness of God
ve and serve Him, •
) Misses Coulter was a
vate street, whose two
id agreeably contrasted

trees. The house con-

the first floor, divided
[ by a narrow hall from
> apartments of similar

floor, serving as bed-
hose below constituted
1. On the attic story

of which was Letty's
shared by Winn y. The
ore-room. The kitchen
, approached by an area
within and around the
ined, scrupulously neat,

was herself the picture
)st active of servants,

EMIGRANT MFK IN THE ?.'KW WOm,D.

18T

ilthongh the dumpiest of all little dumpy \\ omen,
(Lord Byron's special abomination.) Fortunately for
Winny, this little bustling personage — whose age
might bo about t ' irty or so — was as good natured as
6he was aolive, and it pleased her mightily to have a
girl of Winny's appearance for a con panion.

"I guess you'll find it rather dull here," said she,
after receiving Winny from the hands of Miss
Coulter at the head of the lirs, whence she con-
veyed her to a seat near the stove, and with her own
hands took off her bonnet, remarking that her fingers
must be " kind of numb" — " I guess you'll find it
rather dull. '

' I guess I won't," said Winny, good-humoredly,
much pleased with her companion's manner, and
readily falling in with her peculiar humor, — "I'll
never fault a place for being quiet, and I've made up
my mind to be happy here whether you like it or
not."

" Well ! now, if that an't real good of you 1" said
Letty ; " Miss Debby told me you was a very good
girl, and I do think you are. How's your brother ?"

" Very well, thank you," said Winny, in some sur-
prise ; " but how did you know I had a brother?"

" O la me ! didn't the ladies tell me all .ibout him
and you. Bless you ! I knc w all about the fire, and
the fever, and how Mrs, Coulter was kinder ungrate-
ful-like, and how Mr, Coulter and the ladies are a-
going to send you two away out West to a farnt,
and how you're to stay here with us till your brothor

188

CON o'rkgan ; OR,

sendfl for you !— why, child, I know it all !' conclud-
ed Letty, almost breathless after her rapid summary
of the ORegan affairs.

" I see you do, indeed," said Winny, laughing;
"and now that you know all about me so well, will
you let me ask j/ou one question ?"

" Why, yes— a thousand, if you like."

" Only one, Letty !— wero you born here or io
Ireland ?"

" My stars I — born in Ireland — why, how did yon
come to think of that ? I was not born ten miles
from this here city."

" "Why, Miss Coulter told me you were Irish."

"Ohl she just said that because father and mo-
ther came from there. But then they both died
when I was a youngster — seven or eight years old,
or thereabouts, and I was raised by a lady out there
where father and mother died."

Winny's countenance fell. "Then you're not a
Catholic !" said she; "indeed, Miss Coulter told me
you were not 1"

" Me a Catholic— a Romanist !" said Letty, dis-
tending her round blue eyes to their widest dimen-
sions, as she fixed them on Winny ; " why, no !—l
a'nt any such a thing. Missis was a Baptist, but I
never felt any pertiklar call to that 'ere religion, so I
never did join any church, because missis said, says
she, • you'll be sure to join us some day soon, so mind
you don't join any other church— if you do,' says
Bhe, 'I'll never forgive you — never.' So, you see, it

I koow it all !' conclud-
after her rapid Bummarj

said Winny, laughing;
ill about »;« bo well, will
lion ?"

if you like."
•0 you born here or in

land — why, how did you
was not born ten miles

me you were Irish."
because father and mo-
ut then they both died
even or eight years old,
lised by a lady out there
ed."

" Then you're not a
id, Miss Coulter told me

lanist !" said Letty, dis-
s to their widest dimen-
I Winny; "why, no!— I
ssis was a Baptist, but I
to that 'ere religion, so I
because missis said, says
; some day soon, so mind
hurch — if you do,' says
-never.' So, you see, it

^^ .^s^fmmk^mm^

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

lii II 28

'- |4

1. id 1.

I.I

1.25

1.4

2,0

1.6

Photographic

Sciences

Corporation

<?>^

■^

^<i>

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, NY. 14580

(716) 872-4503

4rj

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microrcproductions / Institut canadien de microreproductions historiques

lei
bi

be
to
pe

he
hi

g>
aa

^■r-aMBMF^^

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THS NEW WORLD.

18S

was all the same to me to join or not, because why,
I don't think it makes much difference what religion
any one belongs to, if they'll only do what's right,
and then missis was so kind and so motherly-like
that I wouldn't go for to break her heart by joining
any other church, and as for your church, Winny,
why ! bless you I missis wouldn't go within a mile
of a Papist meeting-house if she could avoid it."

" I suppose, then, your father and mother were
Protestants f"

" Well, I rather think not," said Letty, in a care-
less tone ; " some folks say they were Catholics,
but for my part I don't know, and suppose they
were," she added, apologetically, " why that couldn't
be helped-^they came from Ireland, as missis used
to say, and I guess most of the folks there are of that
persuasion — a'nt they ?"

" A good many of them," said Winny, " not all,
though. But you don't seem to care much about
your parents, Letty."

" Oh, well ! I hadn't ought to, I wa'nt brought up
with tliCiii, you know. But don't you feel like eating
Bomet'iing ? Dinner won't be ready for near an
hour,"

" Winny thanked her and said she did not feel
hungry, but would like to get something to do.

" All right, Winny," said her new friend ; " I al-
ways like to see folks fond of doing something. I
guess you're none of the lazy ones. V\\ just go up
aa Boon as I baste this here mutton," opening th«

190

CON o'rEGAN ; OR,

oven-door as she spoke, " and ask Miss Coulter fo*
some work for you."

" Oh ! never mind the basting," said Winny, tuck-
ing up her sleeves, "leave it to me, and go up at
once, like a good girl !"

Letty went accordingly, and speedily returned
■with a neatly-folded parcel of white cotton in one
hand and a small work-basket in the other. " Miss
Coulter sends you this, Winny," said she, " and sho
says only you're a stranger yet, and must needs bo
lonesome-like for a day or two, she wouldn't have
you work in the kitchen. It's up stairs in Miss
Debby's room you're to work afcer you get settled.
But I guess," said Letty, lowering her voice to a
confidential whisper, " I guess if they find that you
keep the "work jiean, they won't mind where it is
done. Our ladies a'nt very particular that way.
There now, take that little table, and sit you down
by the winder. I tell you what, Winny, I guess we
shall have good times together, with nothing on
earth to trouble us except our work, and there a'nt
any too much of that either, if we only go right
straight on with it."

When Winny took up her work at nightfall to
show it to the ladies, she found them playing chess
at a small table drawn up closo to the hearth. This,
as Winny afterwards perceived, was th-jir evening's
occupation all the week round, Sunday, of course,
excepted. The old ladies were, like their brother,
not addicted to any particular notion of religion :

t1
fa
^
a

tl
n

Bl
O
li

h
h

P
d

n
\

■w

tl
e
ai
e
■«
T

81
O

a
it

OR,

isk Miss Coulter for

g," said Winny, tuck-
;o me, and go up at

d speedily returned
white cotton in one
in the other. " Miss
" said she, " and sho
, and must needs be
>, she wouldn't have
t's up stairs in Miss
after you get settled,
sring her voice to a
if they find that you
n't mind where it is
particular that way.
le, and sit you down
t, Winny, I guess we
er, with nothing on
work, and there a'nb
if we only go right

work at nightfall to
i them playing chess
to the hearth. This,
, was their evening's
1, Sunday, of course,
e, like their brother,
' notion of religion :

EUIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLU.

191

they read their Bible, especially on Sabbath even*
ings, and went twice every Lord's Day to hear tho
word according to the Rev. Bertram Shillingworth,
a divine who was just then very popular indeed in
those parts, for and because of his preaching after
no man's fishion but out of the fulness of his own
soul, which was, as he said, an overflowing cistern
of sweet water for the children of God's covenant.
Ue was what might be called an independent
preacher, in other words he preached " on his own
hook," if wo may be permitted to apply such
homely phrase to the dapper, insinuating, and very
polite minister of Jefferson street Church, thus
designated in lieu ot any doctrinal appellation.
But as we have already hinted with regard to the
Misses Coulter, what religion they had was by
no means of an acrimonious or aggressive kind.
Well content with themselves and all the world
(" Samuel's wife" hardly excepted), they glided from
week to week, from Sabbath, to Sabbath, " along
the even tenor of their way," quite willing that
every one should go to heaven aifler bis own fashion,
and firmly persuaded that all mankind, without
exception, were destined to be gathered, some
sooner, some later, into tho garners of the Lord.
This may appear something like Uuiversalism, but v
still the good ladies never actually professed that,
or any other ism, they were merely " somewhat
more charitable than their neighbors," and thought
it wholly impossible that a God of infinite goodnesi

30N O^RCOAN ; OR,

sould consign any of His oreatarea to an endleia
roand of torments.

We have left the sistersj meanwhile, engaged in
the inspection of Winny's work, the progress of the
investigation being duly noted by divers significant
nods and gracious smiles directed at each other.
First, Miss Coulter inspected it over, then handed
it to her sister, who did likewise, then both ad-
dressed Winny, who stood quietly behind Miss
Coulter's chair :

*' Why, really, Winny, you work very well — very
well, indeed,"

" Small thanks to me, miss," said Winny, " for it's
sewing I used to be at home most of my time."

" Well, now, Debby," said Miss Coulter, address-
ing her sister, " that is very fortunate, very fortu-
nate indeed."

" As how, Dolly 7"

" Why, don't yon see ? — she will have a good
chance out West there when she goes. There will
be no lack of work, you know. But, Winny, did
you ask your brother to oome and see you here ?"

"Oh yes, miss, thank you— he said he'd come
very soon."

" Because you know it a'nt here like Sammy's — I
mean my brother's. He can come here just as
often ae he likes to. Don't forget that !"

"But, Winny," interposed Miss Debby, "tel!
jronr brother he maatn't begin to think o( oar

foi
gri

sis

tal
I

goi
no'

a I

ibl

nai

his

be<

yoi

eer

tui

kir

fur

; on,

eatnres to an en diem

neanwhile, engaged in
irb, the progress of the
d by divers significant
irecled at each other.
I it over, then handed
kesviso, then both ad-
I quietly behind MisB

work very well — very

" said Winny, " for it's
most of my time."
Miss Coalter, address-
' fortunate, very forta-

she will have a good
she goes. There will
ow. But, Winny, did
8 and see you here ?"
u — he said he'd come

i here like Sammy's — I
in come here just aa
L>rget that !"
d Misa Bebby, "tell
egin to think o( oar

EUIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

193

Letty. "We couldn't get along withont Letty, you
know !"

Winny could hardly keep from laughing, and was
fortunately saved the trying task of answering as
gravely as the injunction was given, by the elder
sister exclaiming :

"Why, how you talk, my dear! don't you re-
member that Sammy told us the young man was
married, so we needn't be the least afraid of him
taking to Letty."

" Oh dear, yes !" said the other; " I had quite for-
gotten. Well! Winny, you may go down stairs
now, and you need'nt sew any more to-night."

Winny made a hasty retreat, being still in rather
a laughing mood, for there was something irresist-
ibly comical in hearing a grave, elderly gentleman
of Mr. Coulter's position designated as Sammy, the
name, doubtless, by which his sisters had addressed
him in their childish days. And so it was. The
" Debby," and " Dolly," and « Sammy," which had
been the play-names of their early infancy, sat awk-
wardly to stranger ears on the worthy trio, the
youngest of whom had long since passed into " the
sere and yellow leaf" of life's autumnal season. But
to themselves there was nothing strange in the old
" household words" to which their ears had been at-
tuned from earliest childhood. Time had dealt
kindly with all the three, and the wrinkles which
farrowed their cheeks had no corresponding traces
on their kind, benevolent hearts. The sisters, e«-

CON o'kkqan ; OR,

pecially, had lived together all their lives, and theii
hearts were attuned to the same feelings, their
minds regulated by the same principles, if principles
their simple rules of action could be called. Bitter-
ness there was none in their composition; a little, a
very little acid there might be, and that was reserved
for "Sammy's wife," who had early repelled the
kindly advances of lier sisters-in-law because they
would keep going to that Jefferson street Clnirch,
that fount of muddy water, where the Word of the
Lord was wrested even to the destruction of those
who heard it. Other reasons for Mrs. Conltcr'a
coolness were whispered about amongst her intimate
friends, but fortunately for the peace of mind of the
worthy sisters they rarely or never saw any of that
particular set, and consequently never heard the
private and more secret sentiments wherewith their
saintly relative regarded them. Their nieces they
sometimes saw, as they occasionally accompanied
their father in his visits, and latterly they had begun
to call once in a while without him, on their return
from school or the like. Rachel was the favorite
with both her aunts, principally because she "be-
longed to their side of the house," while Hannah
resembled her mother, at least in appearance. Still
the good ladies dispensed their favors with laudable
impartiality, so that even Hannah herself never sus-
pected their greater predilection for Rachel.

After chatting an hour or so with Letty while the
latter *' cleaned bar silver" for the following day,

my
be

rei

m(
R(
th(
pa
fiv
wi

hei

sto

sid

un'

loo

ina

the

CO!

ref

OR,

1 their livcB, and theii
same feelings, their
principles, if pi inciplcB
uld be called. Bitter-
lomposition; a little, a
and that was reserved
ad early repelled the
■8-in-law because they
ifferson street Chnrch,
here the Word of the
e destruction of those
ns for Mrs. Coultcr'a
t amongst her intimate
»e peace of mind of the
never saw any of that
mtly never heard the
ments wherewith their
m. Their -nieces they
lasionally accorapanied
latterly they had begun
at him, on their return
lachel was the favorite
•ally because she "be-
house," while Hannah
St in appearance. Still
iir favors with laudable
.nnah herself never bus-
tion for Rachel,
90 with Letty while the
for the following day,

IMIGRAIT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD

195

Winny took out her beads, remarking that as it
must be pretty cold up in the attics, she would say
her prayers before they went up.

" Be quick, then," said Letty, " for I'll be soon
ready to go to bed."

Wi«iny knelt at a chair near the stove and com-
menced saying her night-prayers, of which the
Rosary always formed a part, very soon forgetting
the presence of Letty and her injunction to use dis-
patch, as she fixed her thoughts successively on the
five joyful mysteries, and raised her heart to God
with simple, earnest love.

Meanwhile Letty, having finished her work, took
her station in front of the stove, with her feet rest-
ing on the pan, in order to prepare for bed by a
good warming of her body from head to heel.
Luxuriating in the grateful warmth, a soothing calm
stole over her senses, and Letty, too, was soon lost
in the tranquil embrace of the drowsy god. Winny
knelt and prayed, but no sound came from her lips,
Letty slumbered on her chair, and the venerable
Grimalkin of the household napped cozily at her
Bide on the floor. But Letty's slnmhers were not
unbroken, for ei'erand anon she would start and
look around, then rub her eyes* as though endeavor-
ing to recover the use of her suspended faculties,
then glance at the silent, motionless fif;ure of her
companion, and muttering some brief ejaculation of
reproof, she would drop gently again, and without
an effort, into the world of dreams. At last Mrs,

CON o'rf.can ; OR,

Puss, probably hearing a monse stirring Bomewhere
near, made a bound in the direction of the noise,
and even her light weight, coming pounce on the
floor, was sufBclent to disturb Letty, who, starting
to her feet, cast a searching, bewildered glance
around, then her eyes fell on Winny, and the meii-
Bure of her patience was exhausted.

" Why, Lord's sake, "Wlnny ! are you a-going to
pray all night ? — if you are, just say so, will you ?
and I'll go to bed. There a'nt any use in me wait-
ing hero like this ?"

Winny had just finished her prayers, so she calmly
blessed herself and arose to her feet, saying, with a
smile : " I wasn't very long, was I ?"

"Long! why I kinder thought you'd never be
done. I'm tired to death waiting, and can hardly
keep my eyes open." Of course she hadn't tried,
but she didn't mind saying so. " What on earth
have you got to say when you kneel so that keeps
yon such a mortal long time ?"

" Oh ! I have many things to say, Letty, that it
wouldn't answer me to leave unsaid. I have to pray
for myself and all belongin' to me, both living and
dead."

A good-humored laugh was Letty's response, as
she took np the lamp and examined the fastenings
of door and window. " Living and dead !" she re-
peated ; " well ! if that a'nt a good one ! — why, now,
Winny, can't you let the living pray for themselves,
they oan do it as well as you, if they want to, and

AVI

an
ha
an

th
he

Bt
BU

in
re
bt

"I
b<
so

th
w

ai
la

OR,

se stirring Bomewhere
ireclion of the noise,
imiug pounce on the
> Letty, who, starting
g, bewildered glance
Winny, and the men-
isted.

r! are you a-going to
juBt say Bo, will you ?
t any a«e in me wait-

■ prayers, so she calmly
ler feet, saying, with a
'as I?"

>ught you'd never be
aiting, and can hardly
urse she hadn't tried,
so. " What on earth

ou kneel so that keeps

to say, Letty, that it
unsaid. I have to pray
to me, both living and

19 Letty's response, as
amined the fastenings
ng and dead !" she re-
good one ! — why, now,
ag pray for themselves,
I, if they want to, and

KMIORANT UFB IN THE NEW WORLD.

191

u for the dead, why, it's all up with them. It's only
wasting your breath praying for them. I tell you
what now, Winny, you're a real sensible girl, and
I kind of like you, but mind and don't keep me
wailing another night while you pray for the living
and the dead ! Don't now, Winny, or you and I'll
have a tiff about it. I a'nt a-going to put up with
any such nonsense."

Winny promised to say her prayers up stairs for
the future, so as not to keep Letty waiting. Her
heart ached for the heathen darkness which ob-
scured that naturally good understanding, and she
murmured within herself as they ascended the
stairs together : " Isn't it a thousand pities to see
such a good-natured, open-hearted creature so blind
in regard to religion I — and to think that her pa-
rents were both Catholics — my ! my ! isn't it too
bad ? — may the Lord open her eyes to the light of
truth."

After muttering half aloud a drowsy prayer to be
•' strengthened in grace," &c., Letty hastily doffed
her garments and tumbled into bed, Winny very
soon following her example.

On the following morning, soon afler breakfast,
there came a gentle, hesitating ring to the door,
whereupon Letty exclaimed : " That's Peggy — I'm
sure it is ! — she ought to have been here yesterday 1
Will you just step up and open the door, Winny,
and bring Peggy down here till I go up and tell th«
ladies, after I get through with these dishes ?"

198

CON o'reoas ; OR,

Winny hastened to the door, wondering who
Peggy might be, and was rather surprised to see a
pretty, youthful-looking girl led by a little boy.
This circumstance revealed all too clearly that the
light of heaven shining so brightly at the moment
was unseen by the dark, lustrous eyes which moved
BO restlessly in their sockets, as though the girl
would seek to penetrate the gloom in which she was
shrouded.

" Are the ladies at home, Letty ?" said the blind
girl, softly.

Winny replied in the affirmative, but her voice
was strange to Peggy, who started and anged
color.

" Is Letty gone?" was the next question, as Peggy
entered the hall with the assistance of "Winny and
her young guide.

" Oh, no !" s?id Wiany, very gently, " yon'll find
her in the kitchen below. I'm only here sewing
for a start. Just give me your hand, dear, till I
take you down stairs."

"Ah ! Qod bless you, ma colleen baton T* said Peg-
gy, warmly squeezing the hand that held hers.

Winny laughed pleasantly ; " why, how do you
know I'm a colleen baumT^ she asked.

" Oh I I know it by your voice, alanna ! an' your
soft kindly hand. Your voice is very sweet, an' it
goes down into my heart. It puts me in mind of
the purty blackbirds and thrushes that used to sing
In the trees and bushes in a place we'll never see

g
b(

el
fc

tl
fi

ei
k
o;

8''

; OR,

3oor, wondering who
:her Burprifted to see a
led by a little boy.
ill too clearly that the
'ightly at the moment
ous eyes which moved
B, as though the girl
loom in which she was

jetty ?" said the blind

matlve, but her voice
started and anged

ext question, as Peggy
istanoe of Winny and

7 gently, " you'll find
I'm only here sewing
oar band, dear, till I

Ileen baton .'" said Peg-

d that held here.

; "why, how do you

I asked.

aice, aJanna ! an' your

le is very sweet, an' it

puts me in mind of
shes that nsed to sing

place we'll never see

EMIGRANT LIFB IN THK NEW WORLD.

199

igain ! See !" she repeated with a deep-drawn sigh
— " how could we — at least some of us, when the
light is gone from us forever ?"

They had now reached the kitchen, where Letty
gave a cordial reception to the blind girl, and seated
her near the stove.

'• What on earth kept you away yesterday ?" said
she ; " the ladies were real anxious about you, for
fear something had happened."

"Well! nothing at all had happened, you see,'
said Peggy, with a smile, *' but I hadn't all the socks
done, an' I thought there was no use oomin' till I'd
have them all."

"No more there wasn't. But how's all at home,
and how's Tom?"

There was a blunt archness in tue latter part of
the question, which did not escape Winny, and she
fixed her eyes on Peggy's face in order to note the
effect, but Peggy's face was a book which it required
long practice to readj so that Winny made nothing
of her scrutiny further than what Peggy's brief an-
swer conveyed.

" He's well, an* so are all our people. Thank yoa
kindly for askin'. Can I speak to either of the
ladies, Letty? Pm in a hurry this momin', for
Anty's goin' out after I g:et back."

" Come along, then, and I'U bring yon np to them.
They're in the dining-room.

« Stay there, Johnny," said Peggy to her young
guide. " an' we'll call you up when I'm ready to go.

soo

co.y o'kman ; oh,

Where are yoa, Winny?" she had heard Letty
mention Winny's name, which her quick ear was not
slow in taking up, " God be with you, askrre /—my
heart warms to you ! — indeed it does !"

" And mine to you, Peggy I" was the fervent an-
swer, and as Winny grasped the hand of her new
friend the tears trickled from her eyes.

Entering into conversation with the little boy,
Winny found that Peggy was his aunt, but further
Information she did not ask from him. The boy
was shy, too, and by no means communicative, and
notwithstanding Winny's efforts to draw him out, he
Blill kept eyeing her askance, and could hardly be
got to answer a question. At the sound of Letty's
voice calling him, he scampered up stairs with right
good will, and laid hold of his aunt's hand with re-
newed cheerfulness and activity.

When they were gone Letty returned to the
kitchen and her unfinished task of putting away the
breakfast things. Winny continued her wurk in si-
lence, thinking the while of the strangely-interesting
blind girl, and wishing to know something more
about her, yet unwilling to question Letty on the
subject. But Letty, judging others by herself, said
abruptly :

*' Now, I guess you wart to know all about that
'ere girl, don't you ?" Winny started and blushed
■lightly, "There, I knew it— there a'nt any use
denying it, so I'll tell you. She's a girl of the name

OR,

he had heard Letty
her quick ear was not
ith you, astore ! — my
it does 1"

" was the fervent an-
Lhe hand of her new
ler eyes.

with the little boy,
his aunt, but further
from him. The boy
B communicative, and
ts to draw him out, he
and could hardly be
the sound of Letty*s
d up stairs with right
i aunt's hand with re-

stty returned to the
k of patting away the
binued her wurk in si-
) strangely-interesting
aow something more
[uestion Letty on the
others by herself, said

know all about that
y started and blushed
; — there a'nt any use
le's a girl of the name

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THK NEW WORLD.

aoi

of Peggy Daly, and she lives with a sister of hers, a
Mrs. Brady."

" What I the wife of one Barney Brady down in
Hope street, below ?"

" Yes ! that's the man, and so Peggy lives with
them, ever since she lost her eyesight by the means
of a bad cold she got not long after she came to
this here place. She's a famous knitter, is Peggy,
and our ladies found her out somehow and took
quite a liking to her. They keep her in work most
of the time, for when they have none themselves
they ask it from their friends, and so Peggy always
earns a little that makes her kind of independent.
To my sartin kno ledge she might have a home
here all her life, but somehow she'd rather stay at
her sister's. I tell you hat," said Letty, drawing
near Winny and letting her voice fall almost to a
whisper, " I guess she has some very pertiklar rea-
Rons for staying there sooner than anywhere else —
howsomever, that's a secret, and I don't want to
pry into folk's private business."

If Winny had been able to look into Letty's heart
at that moment, she would have said " sour grapes,
Le4ty !" but as it was, she only said " nor I neither,
Letty !" and so the conversation dropped.

308

CON o'reoan ; OS,

Ion]
me(

in '.
cou

CHAPTER XII.

About a week after Winny had taken up her abode
in the bouse of the MUsea Coulter, Paul Bergen
aaked his wife when he was about to return to his
work after dinner, whether she had a quarter-dollar.

" Well! I have," said Nora, with some hesitation,
♦' but Vm afeard I'll hardly have enough to do us till
Saturday night, so, unless you're badly in want of it,
Paul, I'd rather not give it."

" Oh come, Nora I" said her husband, " hand it
over here. There's a letter in the office for me with
a quarter-dollar postage."

" A letter ! my goodness, Paul ! why didn't you
tell me that at oust ? — where can it be from f"

«« From ! why from Ireland, where else f — stir
yourself, Nora, and get me the money, an' I'll call at
the office now before I go back. It isn't one yet. I'll
have it with me when I come home in the evenin'."

" Well ! be sure an' come early, Paul, for I'll be
on pins and Aeedles till I hear what's in the letter,
an' who it's from."

So Paul got the needful and went his ways. Nora
went about the house all the long afternoon, and bow

so (

the

rao

the

obi
an(
mil
Hte
oa<
om
hei
al
tei
set
Pa
sn

; *■.

KMIORANV UrK IN THE NEW WORLD.

203

XII.

lad taken up her abode
Coulter, Paul Bergen
Eibout to return to his
le had a quarter-dollar.
, with some hesitation,
,ve enough to do us till
I'ro badly in want of it,

er husband, "hand it
a the office for me with

Paul! why didn't you
can it be from ?"
od, where else P — stir
le money, an' I'll call at
k. It isn't on« yet. Til
B home in the evenin'."
early, Paul, for I'll be
ar what's in the letter,

1 went his ways. Nora
jng aflernooD, and bow

long it did seem !— going through her work with
mechanical precision, but thinking ever on the letter
in Paul's pocket, and wondering where on earth it
could be from.

" With what a leaden and retarding weigbt
Does expectation !oad tbe wings of lime !"
80 every hour seemed the length of a day to poor
Nora. When the children came home from school
there was a sort of temporary diversion, for their
mother had then somebody to whom she could talk
on the engrossing subject, and their anxiety, or ra-
ther curiosity, was as strongly excited as her own.
By this time evening came on, and the six o'clock
chime rang merrily out from the thousand factories
and work-yards of the great city, and then every
minute seemed an hour. The children ran up the
steps, now one, now another, anxiously "looking
oat for father," and Nora herself had been more than
once to the door before the well-known step was
heard without. Patsey and Jim ran to catch each
a hand of their father, and thus conducted he en-
tered the cellar. Nora looked at him with an eager,
searching glance, but Paul only laughed, and told
Patsey to go off for Andy Dwyer. « He'll be at his
supper now likely, but tell him to come as soon as
ever he's done. Well, Nora!" he added, gaily,
" have you my supper ready ?"

"Yes, yes, Paul, it's just ready," and laying tho
baby on Jane's knee, she proceeded to place it on
the table ; " but what about the letter?'*

204

OOH O'REOAN ; OR,

««The letter," said Paul, with affected forgetfal
neBB ; " oh ! to be sure ! I was forgettin' all about it.
Now who do you think it's from, of all people in the
■world ?"

Nora guessed and guessed, but Paul still laughed
and shook his head : " You're out again, Nora. I
see you're a poor hand at guessin', so I'll not keep
you any longer in Buspense. Do you mind my
brother Felix that came out here lo America three
or four years afore we were married?"

" Lord bless mo ! to be sure I do!" cried Nora, all
over in a tremble, as she afterwards said, "what
about him, Paul ? '

" Why, nothing in the world only that thb letter
in my hand is from him."

" An' where on earth is he ? — many an' many's the
day we watched for some account of him, I'm sure,
an' when times ware worst with us too. Myself was
often an' often thinkin' that he'd turn up some day
an' give us a lift. An' so he's alive an' well, you

say?"

"I didn't say a word of the kind," said Paul,
laughing, " but it's true enough for all that."

" An' where is he, at all, that we could never make
him out ? Sure yourself was afeard that he wasn't
above ground this many a year !"

" He is, then, above ground, thanks be to God ! an'
where do you think he is?"

" Oh ! you know there's no use in me tryin' U>
guess."

n
I

ti
h

P
o

t'
a
a
I

8
(I

B
t
1

]

)R,

h affected forgetfal^
>rgettiD' all about it.
I, of all people in the

at Paul Btill laughed
out again, Nora. I
sin', so I'll not keep
Do you mind my
ire xo America three
rried?"

: do!" cried Nora, all
srwarda aaid, " what

only that this letter

-many an' many's tho
mt of him, I'm sure,
US too. Myself was
'd turn up some day
8 alive an' well, yon

le kind," said Paul,
for all that."
we could never make
ifeard that he wasn't
!"
hanks be to God ! an'

use in me tryin' W

EMIORANT LIFE IN THE NEW WOBLD.

205

"Well! he's out in the very place that Con
O'Regan is goin' to."

" Why, then , Paul ! is it in earnest you are ? Don't
be Bchemin' on us now 1"

" It's truth I tell you, Nora, an' you'll see it is
when you hear the letter. He was workin' here axJ
there in different places for five or six years after he
came out, an' by the same token, he wrote a good
many letters, but you see we never got them because
I was out here an' he didn't know it, an' kept writin'
home for a couple of years, an' could get no answer,
till he began to give us all up for dead. Well ! at
last he went to St. Louis, a great city out in them
parts, an' worked there a start, till he came to hear
of this fine new country where it was so easy to get
land, an' as soon as he could put enough together—
an' it was easy for him, bekase he had no family only
himself an' his wife — ^he married Judy Lenihan, you
know, the summer before he left home, an' so off
they set for Iowa— I b'lieve that's what they call it —
an' they got a fine farm there not many miles from

a town they call Du , Du Oh ! then, haven'O

I the bad memory!" Taking out the letter, he
searched and searched till he found the name — .
" well I sure enough, it's a quare name, too." After
some spelling he made out the word Dubuque^
though we will not answer for the correctness of
Paul's pronunciation, at his nearest approach to the
word. However, that was of as small importance in
Paul's estimation as it was in that of his wife, who

206

COM O^REOAN ; OB,

Baid, with nervous impatience: "Oh! then, never
mind the name — go on an' tell us the rest."

"Not a word more you'll hear now till I finish
my supper, Nora," said Paul, in his blithesome way.

"Indeed, then, you're light enough, Paul," said
Nora; " you're not in a good way of talkin' or read-
in' till you get your supper. Sit down, children, an'
fall to, till we get these things out of the way." The
children were quite willing to obey, and took their
seats with commendable alacrity. Supper was more
welcome even than the letter.

As for Nora she could think or talk of nothing
else. Her joy was so great that she could eat little
or nothing, and her appetite vanished entirely when
Paul said, with a knowing smile :

" You're in great glee now, Nora, but you'll be in
greater, by and by."

« Why, how is that, Paul ?"

"Ton haven't heard the best news yet— that's all !"

What Nora would have replied in the pleasurable
excitement of the moment it is hard to say, for her
answer was prevented by the entrance of Andy
Dwyer, with a " God save all here!"

" Ha ! ha !" laughed Paul ; " I think you're a bit
of a prophet, Andy. You talk as if we were all
among ourselves again, with nobody to make game
of us for the good old ways an' words that came
down to us from them that went afore us."

"Well ! I always speak ho, Paul," replied Andy,
*' when I see that the coast is clear, and none of tho

)K,

"Oh! then, never
8 the rest."
ar now till I finish
his blithesome way.
enough, Paul," said
»y of talkin' or read-
t down, children, an'
ut of the way." The
obey, and took their
T. Supper was more

or talk of nothing
it she could eat little
aished entirely when

ora, but you'll be in

ews yet— that's all !"
ed in the pleasurable
I hard to say, for her
I entrance of Andy
ere!"

' I think you're a bit
k as if we were all
body to make game
in' words that came
it afore us."
Paul," replied Andy,
lear, and noue of the

EMIGRANT I.IFR W THE NEW WORLD.

201

anciroumcised within hearing. God knows." he add-
ed, with a heavy sigh, " there's some of our own just
as bad as any of them in regard to making fun of
old usages that they ought to respect. Ah! Paul!
Paul ! they live among the Moabites and the Am-
monites, till they get to be just like them."

" Who did you say they're among ?" said Paul,
and Nora opened her eyes wide.

" Oh ! I, forgot," said Andy, with a grave smile,
" that you were not quite so familiar with the Scrip-
tures as some people are," meaning himself, of course.
So he went on with an air of grave condescension
to explain who the Ammonites and Moabites were,
and the relation in which they stood to the chosen
people. The analogy was so plain that Paul under-
stood it at once and cheerfully subscribed to its
truth.

" Well ! Andy, you'll be glad to hear that some
of us are in a fair way of gettin' our necks out of
the halter; there's a letter I got the day from a
brother of mine that I haven't seen or heard from
this many a long year. Just sit over to the light
here au' read it out, for Nora hasn't heard it yet."

With many expressions of satibfaction Andy
opened the letter and read. The contents are
already known in great part to the reader, and the
concluding paragraphs ran as follows : " So now that
I have told you all about my own affairs, let us have
a word or two about yours. I suppose you have a
family rising up by this time, and unless you're in

208

CON o'keoan ; OR,

some very good business, the city is a poor enongh
place to live in. I know very ▼ell what it is, for,
one way and another, I've had a trial of town as
well as country. Now Til tell you what I want
you to do. Write to me as soon as possible, and
let me know how you are situated, and if yourself
and your wife would wish to come out here. If yon
are both willing, I'll go at once and buy the loca-
tion-ticket of a farm as near my own as I can get it,
so that when you come here you'll have nothing in
the world to do but go to work at once and build a
bouse — it needn't be very large at first — and as my
farm is pretty well cultivated now, I'll be able, with
God's help, to give you a hand, myself and some
boys from our own place that's settled in the neigh-
borhood. They all bid me say that they'll do what
they can to help you along and give you a start.
Let me know if you have means enough to bring
your wife and family out, and if not, why Judy and
me have something by us in hard cash, that you
can have the loan of for some years till you're in n
way of paying it back. As Judy often says to me :
There's only the two of us in it now, and it's to-
gether we ought to be, not you at one end of the
world and me at the other, as a body might pay.
Judy and me haven't got any family of our own,
and, please God, we'll help to do for yours. Wo
want to know how many youngsters you have, what
age they are, and all about them. If there's any
from the old sod living near you that may cbanoe

OR,

KMIGRANT Lift. IS THK NEW WORIJ).

S09

lity 18 a poor enoagh
' irell what it is, for,

I a trial of town an

II you what I want
Boon as poBsible, and
ated, and if yourself
me out here. If you
3e and buy the loca-
r own as I can get it,
ou'll have nothing in
£ at once and build a
3 at first — and as my
ow, I'll be able, with
id, myself and some

settled in the neigh-
that they'll do what
ad give yon a start,
ins enough to bring
f not, why Judy and
hard cash, that you
years till you're in a
dy often says to me :
it now, and it's to-
lU at one end of the
J a body might pay.
■ family of our own,
do for yours. Wo
[sters you have, what
lem. If there's any
you that may chanoe

to remember poor Felix, (and a wild scamp I wsi,
too, God knows !) give them my kind love, and toll
them the best I can wish them is that they may find
their way out Lere. This is the place, Paul, to
make a good home I'ur one ^ family, where a man
can be his own master, and not be driven about like
black niggers from post to pillar, at the bidding of
them that don't care a traneen for one of us, but
would see us far enough if the truth was known.
And what's your poor dollar a day, or dollar and a
quarter? — what is it, Paul, to support a family
where you have everything to bay except the light
of heaven, that they can't keep from you ? — and if
aiokness comes on yon, or death, how is it to be
then? — who's to do for the wife and children? — and
worse than all, the bad example that's before your
eyes and your children's eyes, turn which way you
will. Take my advice, Paul, and don't stay iu such
a place, except you have a good way of doing, as I
said befiTi,. If you have, why it would be foolish
to give it up, for a bird in the hand, you know, is
always worth two in the bush.

" At any rate, write soon, and let us know what
you mean to do. Judy sends her kind love to you
all, and hopes to see you here, young and old, before
she's many months older.

" So no more at present, but remains till death
your loving and affectionate brother,

« Fklix Bsroim."

810

CON O'KKOAN ; OR,

Then followed directions as to how the letter was
to be addressed.

During the reading of this epistle Nora Bergen
Bat with her clasped hands resting on her knees
and her eyes fixed on the precious missive which
bore such cheering words. By the time it was
ended, from date to subscription, the tears were
coursing down her cheeks, tears of joy and
gladness.

" Now, Paul," said she, " wasn't it true for Con
O'Regan that we don't any of us know what may
be in store for us ?— oh 1 then, the Lord in Heaven
be praised — haven't we the great luck entirely !—
isn't Felix the good brother all out— an' his wife,
loo, not a bit behind himself— sure enough, but
we're in great luck !"

" Well, Andy !" said Paul, as Dwyer handed him
back the letter, " what do you think of that ?"

" What can I think of it, Paul, only that you are
one of the luckiest men tbat ever bore your name I
Wonderful, indeed, are the ways of God !" He was
evidently pleased at the sudden change in Paul's
prospects, but still he could not help sighing as he
said within himself: "There's nobody to send for
me, or help me out of poverty I — they're low in the
dust that would give me a helping band. Well ! I
suppose it's all for the best — it mutt be, since God
ordains it so I"

" Well ! well !" said Paul, " how little notion I
had of any such chance when I was tellin' Con the

Pl
be

nc
ev

al
N
w

ci
bi

OR,

bo how the letter wm

epistle Nora Bergen
estiDg on her knees
eolouB missive which
By the time it was
)tion, the tears were
tears of joy and

rasn't it true for Con
if us know what may
, the Lord in Heaven
»reat luck entirely ! —
all out— an' his wife,
ilf— sure enough, but

AS Dwyer handed him
I think of that ?"
'aul, only that you are
ever bore your name !
lys of God !" lie was
Idea change in Paul's
not help sighing as he
's nobody to send for
y ! — they're low in the
elping hand. Well ! I
-it must be, since God

"how little notion I
i I was tellin' Con the

KMIORAKT MFK lH THE NEW WORLB.

311

Other day that I wished I could go with him. Now,
that same may come to pa8S, an', indeed, it's little
short of a meraole. Weill now what about wriiia'
the letter ?"

"I'll write it for yon if you wish," said Andy.

" I'm entirely obliged to you, Andy," returned
Paul, "but I know poor Felix would be better
pleased to see my own handwrite, such as it is. To
be sure, I can't either write or state* a letter like
you, but still, it's to my brother, you know, an' he'll
not turn up his nose at what TU write, let it be
ever so indifferent."

" Well ! I believe you're right," naid Andy, ris-
ing ; " a scroll from your own pen will be worth
gold in his eyes. God spare you to each other, and
to the two decent women that own you !"

" But sure you're not goin' yet ?" said Nora ;
" why, man, we have ever so many things to talk
about."

Just then there was a knock at the door, and
Nora's cordial "come in I" was answered by the
appearance of Con O'Regan, muffled in a good
warm overcoat. Glancing from one to the other he
quickly perceived that there was joy in the house,
of some kind, and he was about to remark : " Why
you all seem very merry here 1" when he was anti-
cipated by Patsey and Jane, who cried out in a
breath :

' Ob, Con ! sure we got a letter from my anda

• Compose, or indite.

218

CON O REGAN ; OR,

that was dead this long timo, an' he sent for fathet
and mother an' all of us to go to him. An* it's the
same place that you're goin to."

Con turned inquiringly to the seniors, and found
on every face a confirmation of " the wondrous tale."

Paul nodded assentingly, and Nora cried out in
the excess of her joy : " Praises be to God, it's all
true enough, Con I Ask Andy Dwyer ! — he read
the letter!"

" It's all true, Cornelius," said Andy, with bis
grave smile, " except that Felix Bergen didn't come
to life again, as the children would lead you to sup-
pose. There wasn't a dead drop in him any day
these fifteen years !"

" Oh 1 then, bad cess to yon, Andy," said Nora,
with a merry laugh, " it'a you that's never without
your joke. Sit down now, both of you, till we have
our talk out — you'll not stir a step this hour, Andy !"

" Well ! if I must, I must !" said Andy ; " there's
no use contesting the point with one of the fair sex.
And how is Winifred, Cornelius ?"

Con hesitated for a moment. He was not accus-
tomed to hear Winny'sname given in full, but a mo-
ment's thought recalled the fact that she had been
BO baptized, and he hastened to reply :

" I haven't seen her since she went to Miss Coul-
ter's, for somehow I don't like to be troublin' a
strange house very often. She was well, though,
when I saw her a week ago. But I want to hear sU
about this lucky letter, Paul ?"

OB,

an' he senl for fathei
to him. An' it's the

le seniors, and found
" the wondrous tale."
id Nora cried out in
es be to God, it's all
ly Dwyer ! — he read

said Andy, with his
E Bergen didn't oome
)u]d lead yon to Bup>
Irop in him any day

1, Andy," said Nora,
that's never withoat
,h of you, till we have
tep this hour, Andy 1"
said Andy; ''there's
th one of the fair sex.
usf"

. He was not accns-
;iven in full, but a mo-
lot that she had been
reply :

e went to Miss Coul-
ike to be troublin' a
he was well, though,
But I want to hear all

KMtORANT LiriC IW THE N«W WOni.D.

Sit

The letter was read over again for Con, to whom
Its contents were almost as welcome as they were
to Paul and Nora. "Nora," said he, " we'll be all
together, please the Lord, for I'll not go till you're
ready, and glad I am to havt to wait for you."

" Well ! I'll write to Felix, Qod willing, this very
night," said Paul, " before I lay a side on a bed.
Run out, Pdlsey, an' get me a sheet of good letter
paper— mind now an' get it good, for it's to send to
your Uncle f elix."

Con and Andy now took their leave, the former
being reminded by Mrs. Bergen to be sure and let
Winny ^»iutw all about the letter.

" Oh ! ril do that, never fear I I intended to go
to see her to morrow evening, an' I'll be all the wel-
comer with such news as this. Good night !"

" Good night, and Qod bless you!" said Nora, while
Paul went with them to the top of tbe step?, telling
them to take care of themselves, for the night was
dark. " An' with all the lamps that there is," he
added, " there's many a dark hole an' corner here an'
there where bad doings are carried on at all hours
of the night. So mind yourselves now !"

" We will," said Con, " an' thank you kindly for
your advice, Paul, but it's little use our minding
would be if God did not mind us, too !"

"True for you, Cornelias !" said Andy, as they
walked away side by side ; "the protection of God
Is everything, and any one that looks for it in
earnest has little to fear. It is written in the Holy

214

COM o'reoan ; OS,

Book : ' He is our helper and our deliverer, whom
Bhall wefear?'"

" What a power of Scripture you have, Andy,''
Raid Con, in a respectful tone; " it must have taken
you a long time to larn all you know !"

" Well, it did, Cornelius," said Andy, with a
smothered sigh; "it did take me a long time, sure
enough — as long, I think, as it takes many a one to
make a fortune. And what am I the better for it all
now ? — if I knew less, I think my burden wouldn't
be so heavy as it is I — howsomever, it may all como
in useful some day. God has His own wise ways of
working, and He'll do with us what He thinks best.
Blessed be His name! But now, Cornelius!" he
added, drawing nearer his companion, and lowering
his voice, " talking of learning brings something into
my mind that troubles me a good deal, and often
keeps me awake thinking when all the world's asleep.
I have a litle family growing up around me, and it's
no easy matter to get them schooled in a place like
this, where there's not a school that a Christian can
send his child to! — it's true I'm able enough to
teach them myself, but a poor laboring man coming
home after his day's work has little heart for be-
ginning to teach three or four children. Still, it's a
hard thing to send them to where they're sure to
learn more of evil than of good. If I could help it,
DO child of mine should ever set foot in one of them
Common Schools."

•' And why, if you please, Andy ?" asked Con, in

)ur deliverer, whom

you have, Andy,''
it must have taken
:now!"

3aid Andy, with a
le a long time, sure
akea many a one to
[ the better for it all
ay burden wouldn't
rer, it may all come
.8 own wise ways of
'hat He thinks best,
ow, Cornelius!" he
anion, and lowering
rings something into
ood deal, and often
A\ the world's asleep.

around me, and it's
}oled in a place like
that a Christian can
'm able enough to
ftboring man coming

little heart for be-

hildren. Still, it's a

here they're sure to

If I could help it,

foot in one of them

idy ?" asked Con, in

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORIJ).

216

the same respectful tone. "What sort of sohoola

are they ?"

« Why, they're neither more nor less than infidel
schools— heathen schools, Cornelius ! if you under-
stand that betier, where children are taught every-
thing but religion. They may do well enough for
Trotestants of all sorts, but for Catholics they're
ruin, Cornelius! ruin and detruction. I've been
here off and on now for some years, and I tell you
I've seen enough of sending Catholic children to
those State Schools, as they call them, and for the
matter of that, they might be called the Devil's
Schools, as far as Catholics are concerned. That's
God's truth, Cornelius ! and I tell it to you as a sen-
Bible young man that knows the value of faith !"'

Andy had now reached his own door, and was
about to raise the latch when Con said, " What in
the world is this, Andy ?— j"st wait a minute, for
God's sake !"

" Who are they ?" whispered Andy, as they ap-
proached two men who were wrangling at a little
distance. " Why, one of them is Tom Derragh—
sure enough it is— well 1 well! isn't he the graceless
vagabond ?"

"An' the other is Larry Tierney!" said Con;
<' don't you think so, Andy ?"

•'Well no!— but stay!- why, I declare to my
goodness, it is just Larry Tierney, my next door
neighbor. Oh then ! oh then I isn't this too bad—
iau't it, now ?"

2I«

CON o'rroam ; OR,

As yet no blows had been slruok on either side
80 that there was still a chance of preventing mis-
chief, and while Con took Tom Derragh in charge,
Andy applied himself to pacify Tierney. They had
both worked themselves up to such a state of excite-
ment that it was no easy task to keep them asnnder.

"Let rae at him!" shouted Tom, struggling to
disengage himself from the sinewy grasp of Con ;

" be called me a lazy, idle vagabone, and by ,"

swearing an awful oath, " I'll pound him into mum-
my ! — the low-lived, mean spirited dog 1 — I don't
hang around the taverns as be does from nightfall
to bed-time, lookin' for a chance to guzzle down tho
drink at some fool's expense I — let me at him, I say,
or I'll give it to you, too !"

" Just listen to me now !" said Con, soothingly ;
• come into Andy Dwyer's here both of you till
you cool down a little. You'll be sorry for this
■when you're sober I"

" Sober !"' hiccupped Tom ; " who says I'm not
sober now ! — keep a civil tongue in your head. Con
O'llogan, or I'll thrash you as I done many a time
before."

Andy on his side had equally hard work to keep
Tierney from flying at Tom, and there was every
prospect of the watch being on the spot presently,
for a crowd was beginning to gather. "When all
/ailed him, Con whispered in Tom's ear : •' Take
care, Tom, or I'll go and tell Father Timlin ! Til

Struck on either tide
) of preventing mis-
, Derragh in charge,

Tierney. They had
Buch a state of exoite-
} keep them asnnder.

Tom, struggliog to
newy grasp of Con;

ibone, and by ,"

ound him into mnm-
ited dog I — I don't

does from nightfall
e to guzzle down the
-let me at him, I say,

aid Con, soothingly ;
re both of you till
11 be sorry for this

"who says I'm not
le in your head. Con
I done many a time

hard work to keep
rad there was every
1 the spot presently,

gather. When all
Tom's ear : «' Take
Father Timlin ! Fll

EMIGRANT UFE IN THE NRW WORLD.

ill

have him here in a minute if you don't stop yoaf
■onsense and come into the house I"

Instead of quieting Derragh, this unfortunate threat
only served to increase his rage. " Father Timlin V
he cried, turning fiercely on Con, " and what if he
wore here now ? Let him mind his own business.
He a'nt in Ireland now, I guess! Ha! Tierney,
you dog ! I'm at you 1" and Con being really some<
what exhausted by his previous exertions, could
not have held him much longer, but just then a
lucky thought came into his mind, and he whia*
pered again in Derragh's ear :

" And Peggy ! — what will she say when she hears
of this, and that you're in the station-house all night
to-iiight, as you will be in two minutes, for there's
the watoh coming. For God's sake come in before
you're taken !"

The mention of Peggy's name had a magical effect
on the besotted brain of Derragh. In an instant be
calmed down, saying

" You're right, Con ! — what would she say, poor
unfortunate girl? I'll go anywhere you like, Con t
I will, indeed! Let that drunken scoundrel go to
the devil if he likes ! — I wouldn't dirty my fingers
with him !"

Fortunately this was said in a low voice, so that
it did not reach the ears of the person so oourte-
ously apostrophized, and Andy, who had also seen
the watoh coming, just then opened Tierney's door
and pushed him in, he struggling and vowing ven-

218

CON o'rkoan ; OR,

geance all the time, then went in after him and
closed the door. At the same moment ('on got his
game safely bagged in Andy Dwyer's comfortable
kitchen, to the great surprise of the good dame who
was quietly sewing at a table near the window.
Her children were all in bed, and she had been just
beguiling the time with the loves of Lord Lovell
and Lady Bancy Nell, as commemorated in an an-
cient and time-honored ballad learned in early child-
hood from well-beloved lips, long mouldering into
dust. Many a sadly-pleasing memory arose before
the placid mind of the singer connected with the
words of the quaint, old ditty, and so she Sat sing-
ing and sewing, and thinking and sighing, all in the
quietest of ways, when the door was flung open, and
in bounced Con with his tamed mastiff, the latter
looking deplorably stupid, and not a little sullen.

" Goodness me 1" said Mrs. Dwyer, getting over
her fright somewhat, as she recognized Con, who
had been there once before. " Goodness me ! but
you most frightened the life in me. Sit down, Con !
—and who's this ?— why, Tom Derragh, 1 declare !
Andy's not in now, but I expect him every minute.
It's newens for him, indeed, to be out so late."

This broad hint rather disconcerted Con ; how-
ever, ho resolved to leave all explanation for Andy
himself, at a more fitting time, and muttered some-
thing about passing that way, and meeting with Tom
Derragh at the door, and asked him in to Bee hoyt
they all were.

•w

ai
a
ai

I
a
t

t
t

OR,

nt in aflcr him and
moment ('on got his
Dwyer's comfortable
f the good dame who
e near the window.
,nd she had been just
loves of Lord Lovell
memorated in an au<
learned in early child -
ong mouldering into
memory arose before
• connected with the
■, and so she fiat sing-
ind sighing, all in the
»r was flung open, and
kcd mastiff, the latter
I not a little sullen.
Dwyer, getting over
recognized Con, who
" Goodness me ! but
me. Sit down. Con !
I Derragh, 1 declare!
ect him every minute.
I be out so late."
concerted Con; how-
explanation for Andy
}, and muttered some-
md meeting with Tom
d him in to see hcW

KMIGRAKT UFK IN THR NEW WORLD.

219

"Much obliged to you!" said Mrs. Dwyer, in a
very dry tone, as though she would have said : " I
wish you had taken a more seasonable time for your
visit."

Con felt himself in a very awkward position, and
as for Tom he sat looking at the opposite wall with
a vacant stare. He was evidently growing more
and more stupid, under the influence of the heat.
Now and then a few half-uttered words were heard
coming from his throat with a hoarse guttural sound.

" I know very well, Mrs. Dwyer," said Con, in a
low voice, "I know very well that you think it
filrange to see me in such company, but Mr. Dwyer
will tell you how it all happened. Indeed, it's not
my fault at all."

"Well! I am glad to hear that, anyhow," said
Mrs. Dwyer, in the same under tone, "for I was
afeard you were takin' up with bad company, an'
that's the ruination of many a one, Con. But
what could I think seein' you boultin' in on me at
this hour of the night with such a companion as
that? You know the old sayin' that there is where
we both came from ; ' Show me the company you
keep and I'll tell you the sort of a person you are ?'
Oh dear me, Con, isn't that the sorrowful sight to
see?" pointing to Tom, who was now fast asleep
and snoring away for dear life, his head hanging on
his chest ; " isn't it as good as a sermon to look at
that man, young an' strong, an' a clean likely fellow,
too, if he'd only keep himself as ho ought I Och !

220

COV REOAN ; OR,

och ! but it's little business the likes of him has
comin' to America, for dear knows, Con, it takes
hard, close savin' an' the best of good conduct to
bring people through in it. But here's Andy
comin', I think."

The door opened and Dwyer entered, casting an
anxious glance around to see that there was no dis-
turbance. All was quiet, however, and the worthy
man breathed more freely, for he hated quarrelling,
he used to say, as he hated the devil, the Lord par-
don him for mentioning his name. With a heavy
sigh and a sorrowful shake of the head he passed
the unconscious Derragh and took his seat by Con,
whose hand he warmly skook. " Well, Cornelius,"
said he, " I'm s«re you're as well pleased as I am
that we had the good luck to come up when we did.
If we hada't, there would have been another dis-
graceful scene in the Police Court to-morrow, attd
these two poor witless creatures would have been
either fined or clapped into jail for a start."

Mrs. Dwyer expressed her desire to know what

had happened, and when she had heard all, she, reach

ed her hand to Con with a benevolent smile saying .

" I hope you will forgive me for the wrong I done

you in my own mind when you first came in !"

Con assured her that there was no need of any
apology, as her suspicions were quite natural. It
was then arranged that a bed should be made on
the floor for Tom, who was not in a condition to go
out, and Con bade his kind friends " good night."

d
fi:
t\
it

OR,

KMIGRANT LIVB IN THR NEW WORLH.

sai

the likea of him has

knows, Con, it takes

t of good conduct to

But here's Andy

er entered, casting an
that there was no dls-
?^ever, and the worthy

he hated quarrelling,
e devil, the Lord par-
name. "With a heavy
f the head he passed

took his seat by Con,
:. " Well, Cornelius,"

well pleased as I am
come up when we did.
ave been another dis-
Court to-morrow, attd
ares would have been
il for a start."
' desire to know what
ad heard all, she, reach
^nevoleut smile saying .
e for the wrong I done
ou first came in !"
e was no ceed of any
'ere quite natural. It
sd should be made on
lot in a condition to go
rienda " good night."

CHAPTER XIII.

About seven o'clock on the following evening Coa
O'Regan was at Miss Coulter's door, and his modest
summons was answered by Letty, who, on seeing
him by the light of the hall-lamp, exclaimed :

" Ah ! I guess your VVinny's brother, a'nt yon ?"

Con having answered in the affirmative was shown
down stairs, where he found his sister hard at work
finishing some article of under clothing for one of
the ladies. Winny was a littlo cool at first, saying,
in her quiet way :

" Ah, then, it's a wonder you came at all I — why
didn't you stay a little longer ?"

"Indeed, th'^-<, Winny, I'd have been here sooner—
you know ver) i<rell it wasn't my heart that hindered
me, only I was a little timorous in regard of givia
trouble."

Winny smiled and was about to answer, but Letty
took the word out of her mouth, as she said herself

" Never yon mind that, Mister O'Regan "

" Con, if you please."

" Well, then, Con, if that's what they call you—
you may come to see Winny as oflen as you've %

iS3

COK o'rkgam ; OR,

mind to. The ladies han't any objection to your
coming at any time. And now I think of it, they
want to speak to you before you leave. I guess it's
about that 'ere loan that you're to have, but, of
course, I don't know. I never want to know any-
thing about other folks' business."

Con looked at Winny and Winny smiled, but
neither made any reply, so Letty resumed her iron-
ing, and left the brother and sister to " have their
talk." Havinor chatted over their own affairs for a
little while. Con suddenly exclaimed : " Why, then,
•what sort of a memory have I at aU — sure I was for-
gettin' all about the Bergens."

" Why, what about them. Con ?" asked Winny, in
visible trepidation.

" Oh ! nothing but what you'll bo glad to hear."
He then proceeded to relate Paul's good luck of the
previous day, which rejoiced Winny exceedingly,
and they were both so intent on the pleasing theme,
discussing it in every possible way, that they lost
eight of Letty, who was not, it appeared, quite so ob-
livious of <AeiV presence — she had laid down her iron
during Con's narrative, and broke in suddenly at the
end with :

" Well now ! if that a'nt what I call handsome !"

" What ?" was the simultaneous question of bro-
ther and sister.

" Why, that 'ere man's doing so well for his bro-
ther, and be such an idle, drinking, good-for-notl ing
feller."

OR,

iny objection to your
>w I think of it, they
rou leave. I guess it's
lu'ro to have, but, of
Br want to know any-
esB."

cl Winny smiled, but
stty resumed her iron-
I sister to " have their
their own affairs for a
laimed : " "Why, then,
at aU — sure I was for-

!on ?" asked Winny, in

m'll bo glad to hear."
*aul*8 good luck of the
1 Winny exceedingly,
on the pleasing theme,
e way, that they lost
; appeared, quite so ob-
lad laid down her iron
oke in suddenly at the

liat I call handsome !"
leoos question of bro-

g so well for his bro-
l^ingi good-for-notl ing

SlIIQRANT LIFK IN TOE NEW WORLD.

223

" Who are yon talkin' of, Letty ?" said Winny,
quickly.

" Why, of that Paul Bergen as got the letter."

"Well! I didn't think you knew him," observed
Winny, with a sly glance at her brother, " but, at
any rate, he's not the man you take him for. He
used to take a drop too much now and then, but
that's all past away. For the last three or four
months he hasn't tasted anything of the kind to my
knowledge."

" Oh 1 of course I don't know anything about the
man only as I heard Peggy Daly say. If he's sober
now, why all the better; it's nothing to me, you
know !"

" So, I suppose. Con, you'll be all going together
in the spring — and that's not far off now," added
Winny, with a heavy sigh. " Maybe there might be
some more going, too."

" Well I I don't know as to that," said Con, " but
I wish there may. Father Timlin 'says if there was a
few of us going together it 'id be so much the better.
I wonder," and he lowered his voice almost to a
whisper, " I wonder when will the old ladies advance
the money ? I'm told there are some little things
that I had best take from here."

The ironing was again suspended. Letty's quick
ear caught the tenor of the discourse, if not the pre-
cise words. " Oh ! as to that," said she, " you can
have the money whenever you want to. But han't
you got any of your own ? — why ! la me ! yon onght

^■vij^w^pB^WH^^P^^^KW***'*^^

924

COM o'reoan ; OS,

to have — how, on eartb, can yon spend all you
earn ?"

This startling question brought the blood to Con's
cheek, and he again looked at Winny, who hastened
to reply : " My brother has a little of his own, L-^tty,
an' he might have more only for my long sickness.
He left himself bare then."

" Now, I declare, Winny, it's a shame for you to
talk that way," said Con, almost angrily. "Don't
you know very well tliat I was only payin' you back
a little of what you sent us home ever bo many
times."

" Well ! well ! never mind," said his sister, laugh-
ing, "just keep your temper an' your seat a little
longer," for he had jumped to his feet. " Weren't
you sayin' something awhile agone about Tom Der-
ragh?"

" Tom Derragh 1" repeated Letty, taking up the
word ; " why, that's Peggy's Tom, a'nt he ? — a regu-
lar scapegrace that feller is, and I can't make out
why Peggy holds on to him so ! — ^has anything hap
pened to him ?"

Con evaded the question as best he might, observ-
iflg that he was not much acquainted with the young
man, and knew very little about hira. Winny took
the hint, and made no further inquirted on the sub-
ject. Con then reminded Letty that tho ladies
wanted to see him, and bidding Winny a kind " good
night," was speedily ushered into the dining-room

yon spend all yon

It the blood to Con's
rinny, who hastened
tie of his own, L'-tty,
or my long sickness.

a shame for yon to
3St angrily. "Don't
only payin' you back
home ever bo many

aid his sister, langh-
m' your seat a little
his feet. "Weren't
one about Tom Der-

Letty, taking np the
tra, a'nt he ? — a regn-
id I can't make out
! — ^haa anything hap

lest he might, observ-
linted with the young
It him. "Wiuny took
nquiiied on the sub-
8tty that tha ladies
"Winny a kind "good
into the dining-room

BMIORANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

2aft

above, Winny calling oat to him as he ascended the
stairs in Letty's wake :

"Tell Mrs. Bergen I'll be down to see her on
Sunday afternoon."

" I will," said Con, " and mind you don't forget,
for I'll be there, too."

He had now reached the dining-room door, where
he paused to smooth down his hair and give his
shoes an extra wipe, which he did with some hesita-
tion and more reluctance, owing to the beauty of
the soft, downy mat.

" Good evening, Con 1" said Miss Coulter, and
"good evening, Conl" said Miss Debby, as they
raised their eyes from the chess-board before them,
to fix a smiling look on Winny's brother and " Sam-
my's" favorite protege. Con answered only with a
very low bow, which he tried hard to make as re-
spectful as possible.

Well, Con !" said the elder lady, " my sister and
I are glad to see you. You must come often to see
Winny. She is a very good girl — very good indeed.
Mrs. Coulter did not know her value. But we do,
and so does Letty."

"Yes, that I do," said the person mentioned, an-
swering from behind Con, to the great surprise of
the latter, who thought she had returned to the
kitchen. But no such thing, she had discovered
something out of its place, and, of course, there was
DO time like the present for putting it to rights.

" Yes, that I do," repeated Letty ; " Winny a'nl

If«

COK o'bkqan ; OH,

one bit like what lollcs say of the Irisli. Sho»s a real
nice, lidj' girl, and gives no more trouble in the
house since she's bin here than a child. IlikeWinny,
I do, and I a'nt pleased with Mrs. Coulter for treat-
ing her so ! — I a'ut 1"

Letty spoke as a privileged servant, well know-
ing with whom she had to deal, and though the la-
dies administered a faint rebuke in the form of a
" fie I fie ! Letty I— don't speak so, child !" the smile
which accompanied the words belied their import.
So Letty nodded, and said, " I a'nt saying but what's
true," and went on with her dusting and arranging
at the sideboard.

" But what about the money, Con ?" said Miss
Coulter, kindly ; " a'nt you beginning to think of
going yet ?"

" Not for a month or so, Miss !" said Con, " but
I'm gettin' ray clothes an* things in readiness."

"Is there any prospect of your having company
on the way ?"

"Why, ray stars, yes!" said Letty, before Con
could get out a word. " There's Paul something—
Paul — Paul Berrington — a great friend of Con's and
"Winny's. He's just got a letter from his brother
out in Iowa to go there right off, so he'll be with
Con all the way. A sober man he is, too, though
he wasn't always so. My sakes ! it's a first-rate
chance for Con — a'nt it ?"

" I am very glad to hear it," said each sister in
turn, " and so will Sammy be, too."

«yr

; 0".

the Irisli. Slio's a real
more trouble in tlie
a child. IlikeWinny,
Mrs. Coulter for treat-
id servant, well know-
;al, and tliough the la-
buke in the form of a
ik so, child !" the smile
Is belied their import.
[ a'nt saying but what's
dusting and arranging

iney, Con?" said Miss
beginning to think of

Miss !" said Con, " but

ings in readiness."

' your having company

laid Letty, before Con
lere's Paul something —
reat friend of Con's and
letter from his brother
ght off, so he'll be with
man he is, too, though
sakes ! it's a first-rate

it," said each sister in
le, too."

KMIORANT UFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

227

"I havbn't seen Mr. Coulter yet. Miss, to tell him,
but I know he'll be well pleased, for he was sayin'
to me the other day that he hoped there would be
some others goin', because it 'id be a lonesome tbini;
to go such a long ways by one's pelf."

" Well, Con, you can have tho loan we promised
you at any lime. Brother and you can arrange all
about the payment. Would you wi.«h to have it to-
morrow or next day ?"

" Oh no ! Miss," said Con, hastily, " not so soon,
if you please ! I'd be frettin' the life out of me, if I
had it, for fear of anything happenin' it, an' then I'd
be done for entirely. I have enough, thank God, to
get what little things I want, an' I'll not trouble you
till I'm just ready to go."

" Very good, Con 1 1 see you are prudent, as well
as faithful. Well ! that was all we had to say, so
you can go now 1"

" And mind you come often to see Winny 1"^
added Miss Dcbby, as she began to arrange the
board for another game.

" Oh f there's no fear of me forgettin' that, ladies,
whe:: you'ro so good ae to give me leave. May the
Loid blk>ER you, both now and for ever !"

" Lolly ! show Con to the doo-, will you ?" said
the elder hister ; then, as they prepared to commence
their game, she added in a dreamy, musing tone,
" what a singular way these Irish have of blessing
one at every turn I — a'nt it queer ?"

•' Well, it is," returned Debby, " but it comes from

228 CON o'regan ; or,

their goodness of heart, I dare say. They mean
well, you know, and we must overlook any htUo
error of judgment when the heart is all right. Dear
Mr. ShiUingworth will have it that this practice <t
the Irish is a most profane one, but, oh, dear ! I
can't think so ! They always mention the name ot
God with respect, and so I can't see how they pro-
fane it by praying Him to bless folks. The custom
may be idle and profitless, Dolly, but it cannot be

^'naving reached this sage conclusion. Miss Debby
dismissed the subject from her thoughts and applied
herself heart and soul to the game. As for Letty,
Bhe made all haste down to the kitchen, to un-
burthen her busy, restless mind. Her good will
towards Winny was not confined to mere idle talk,
although that was never wanting. Letty's heart
was a good one, as times go.

«' So your brother will be starting in about a
mouth," said she, " and I guess he'll need some
things made, won't he ?— well, I've just bin a think-
ing that you can make anything he wants in the
way of shirts, or the like, after hours. Miss Coulter
never wants you to work, you know, after seven, or
thereabouts. So, jest git the cotton and things to-
morrow, and I'll bo real glad to give you a hand
evenings when I've my work done up."

«' God bless you, Letty I" said Winny, fervently,
••I'm sure I can never forget your kindness, and I'll
pray for you the longest day I have to live, for

KMIORANT UFE IN THR NKW WORI.n.

220

re say. They mean
overlook any little
rt is all right. Dear
that this practice <(
one, but, oh, dear ! 1
nention the name of
Q't see how they pro-
J folks. The cuslora
lly, but it cannot be

nclusion. Miss Debby
thoughts and applied
game. As for Letty,
the kitchen, to un-
liud. Her good will
jed to mere idle talk,
Qting. Lelty's heart

1 BtArling in about a
less he'll need some
, I've just bin a think-
Ihing he wants in the
■ hours. Miss Coulter
I know, after seven, or

cotton and things to-
d to give you a hand

done up."

said Winny, fervently,
your kindness, and I'll
ay I have to live, for

yoa've been all as one as a sister to me ever since I
came here !"

" Well ! I must say I'll be right glad to have you
remember me," and Letty laughed merrily, " but as
for that 'ere praying, I kinder think it a'nt much
use, 80 you needn't trouble yourself praying for me,
I guess you've got enough to pray for already."

" Oh ! Letty, Letty ! don't talk that way !— don't
now, Letty, for it grieves my heart to hear you, an'
you so good an' kind to me !"

Letty only laughed again, but she was not insen-
sible to Winny's evident distress, so she hastened
to soothe her with : " Well ! I won't then, if you
feel BO dreadful bad about it. But, my sakes!
Where's the use of a body making believe ? I don't
think your prayers, or any other one's prayers can
do me any good — the Lord will give me just what
He has a mind to, whether you ask Him or not.
That's my notion, you see, and there a'nt any good
that I can see in my telling you a different story.
Now, a'nt that true ?"

" Well ! I suppose so," daid Winny, in a dejected
tune; then she added within herself, "there's no
use strugglin' against the stream. God pity her,
poor creature ! she's as blind as a bat !"

A few minutes and the whole was forgot^fln by
Letty, who took up her sowing and commenced
humming a popular negro melody, with the air of
one who had not a care or sorrow in the world.
Her fresh Milesian face was seldom darkened by a

S80

CON o'regan ; OR,

cloud, and as she sat there carolling her inspiring
lay, it seemed happier and more joyous even than
its wont. Winny sigl»ed as she looked, for Letty's
happiness was that of the good-natured, upright
heathen, well pleased with self and with all the
world, a fact which was plainly discernible to the
oye of faith.

On the following evening when Paul Bergen came
home from his work, he found his little household
all in confusion, and Nora met him at the door with
a half-crazed look and manner. " Run off down the
street, Paul I" she cried, " an see if you'll see
Patsey 1"

" Patsey ! why, isn't he here ?"

" No, nor wasn't since he went to school in the
afternoon. Oh ! God help us I God help us !" she
cried, wringing her hands, and bursting into tears,
" maybe it's brought home to us like Peter he'll be."

Paul waited to hear no more. With the dread
experieuce of the past before him, he had reason to
fear the very worst, and he ran, like a madman, to
Andy Dwyer's hoping that Patsey might be there.
But istead of that he found Mrs, Dwyer nearly ad
wild as Nora, for her eldest boy was missing, too.

"Lord save us !" cried Paul, " where can they be?
— still an' rU, Mrs. Dwyer, my mind's a little easier
now, for Bi HXXTQ as anything, they're together, wher-
ever thoy tre. I suppose Andy's not home yet t'

"No, but I expect him every minnit. But go,
for God'B sake !— there's no time to be lost I"

.i^l ajj^i l wy^ 'feMft-^.-"'*^-^"

)B,

RiliaRAKT LIFB IN THE NEW WORLD.

231

oiling her inspiring
re joyous even than
looked, for Letty's
od-natured, upright
f and with all the
J discernible to the

n Paul Bergen came
his little household

urn at the door with
'*Run off down the

a see if you'll see

ent to school in the
I God help us !" she

bursting into tears,
3 like Peter he'll be."
re. With the dread
im, he had reason to
D, like a madman, to
tsey might be tliere.
[rs, Dwyer nearly ad
y was missing, too.
" where can tliey be ?

mind's a little easier
ley're together, wher-
yr's not home yet V
iTY minnit. But go,
le to be lost I"

Paul had no intention to wait, and he turned sway
to conomence his vague search, not knowing where
to go or what to do. Had he but the slightest clue
to lead him on, he would have followed to the death,
but to begin to seek two missing urchins in a city
like that, was literally a hopeless task.

" I might as well look for a needle in a bundle of
straw I" said Paul ; " but still I must do something.
God direct me where to go !" So, taking heart of
grace, he went in turn to the dwelling of each of his
acquaintances within a circuit of several streets, but
no P&tsey was to be found. Sick at heart, faint
from long fasting after the hard labor of the after-
noon, and almost despairing of ever finding his boy
alive, he at length turned his steps homeward, and
reached his own door almost exhausted. All at
once he stopped he heard his wife's voice speaking
in a loud, excited tone, and the terrible thought
struck him that Patsey had been brought home —
perhaps a corpse. " That's it," said he ; " he's either
killed or badly hurt, an' the poor heart-broken
woman's gone crazed." His heart sank within him
Hnd he leaned against the door fc support.

" Well ! I suppose I may as well go in at any rate !"
and he went in accordingly, much quicker, too, than
he intended, for the door having been but partially
fastened, gave way before the pressure of his weight,
and he would have gone in head foremost had not
hia fall been broken by the goodly bulk of And,^
Dwyer, who fortunately stood ne'r the door at th&t

232

CON o'kkoan ; OR,

particular moment. PanVs apology -was out short by
t le welcome apparition of Patsey, who sat munching
a huge slice of bread and butler at the opposite side
of the room.

" The Lord be praised !" was Paul's first exclama-
tion; "so he's alive an' wtll after all." And the
poor man sinking into a seat, was unable to utter
another word. His eyes wandered from Patsey to
Nora, who stood brandishing a rod in front of the
young culprit, the latter regarding her and it with
infinite coolness and self-possession. Andy Dwyer
heaTcd a deep sigh just at Paul's elbow.

" Ah ! Paul, Paul !" said he, " this is a bad busi-
ness 1"

" What is ?" demanded Paul ; " sure it isn't as bad
as we expected, after all."

"Isn't it, indeed?" cried Nora, turning almost
fiercely on her husband ; " an' what do you think
of that young vagabond there squaring himself at
me when I took the rod to whip him ? I was so
glad to see him at first that I run an' give him a
piece of bread, the young rascal ! but when I began
to question him about where he was, an' couldn't
get any satisfaction from him, I took down the rod,
an' threatened to give him a good floggin' if he didn't
tell me what he was aboui all the afternoon. But
sure it's what he began to laugh at me, an' made a
. motion as if he'd strike me. Andy Dwyer ther«
ean tell you that as well as I can."

)gy •was cut short by
f, who sat munching
at the opposite side

Paul's first exclama-
,fter all." And the
w&H unable to utter
ired from Patsey to
rod in front of the
ing her and it with
sion. Andy Dwyer
8 elbow.
" this is a bad buai-

" sore it isnH as bad

ora, turning almost
what do you think
squaring himself at
'hip him? I was so
; run ail' give him a
I ! bat when I began
he was, an' couldn't
; took down the rod,
id floggin' if he didn't
the afternoon. But
rh at me, an' made a
Andy Dwyer ther«
ui."

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

233

and

Andy was silent, but he shook his head
heaved another sigh still deeper than the first.

" Very good 1" said Paul, nodding at Patsey, who
began, by this time, to look rather blank ; " very
good, my lad !— I'll settle with you, by and by ! I'll
give you such a thrashin' that you'll mind it the
longest day you have to live — I'll go bail for it
you'll never turn hand or tongue on your mother
fur the time to come ! — make haste an' finish that
bread you're eatin'."

Patsey began to blabber, and somehow iastead of
making haste to swallow the last of the bread, the
masticatory process went on slower than ever. It
was obstructed, too, of course accidentally, by divers
convulsive motions in the throat, as though Patsey'a
breath was growing very short indeed. Ever and
anon he cast a furtive glance on his father, who had
now taken possession of the rod. Andy tamed
away to hide a smile.

" Make haste, I tell you I" repeated Paul ; " but,
that's true, Nora," turning to his wife, " did the
young rap tell you where he was?"

" Not a word I could get but of him," sa't*. the
poor mother. " I tell you again it's what he iuugh-
ed at me."
"Was your boy with him, Andy?" denria/'.ad

Paul.

" Yes, yes, the fellow walked in to us just /' hiB
mother was telling me in a great fright abo-/ him
being away. I had a good deal of trouble f.< gel

.. ai...,», l ., IngUJiU

234

CON o'reoan ; OR,

out of him where they were, but at laat I made him
tell. It seems they were part of the time playing
with some other boys about the streets, but at last
they got into a beer-cellar down here in Elm street,
where there was a couple of darkies boxing for a
wager, and, of course, nothing would serve my lads
but they must wait to see the battle decided. But
I think I gave Terence what will fix the beer-cellar
and the darkies on Lis mind. If he ever forgets it.
I'll be out in my reckoning, that's all."

"And. so that'll where they were," said Paul,
" while I vas runnin' here and there, from post to
pillar, in search of them, till I was just ready to
drop with the weakness an' the fear that was on me.
So it was lookin' at two darkies boxiu' you were,
my lad "

" Yes, father," said Patsey, brightening up at the
recollection, •' and I guess you'd like to have seen
it yourself if you had the chance. Don't you mind
when you and Tom Derragh and all the rest used to
be talking about how well you could box ? — well I
guess you never seed a handsomer spell than that
was ! I tell you the darkies pitched into each other
first rale."

"Now, Paul!" cried Nora, "juEt listen to that
vagaboue ! — I'm blest an' happy if he wasn't imila-
tin' the darkies when he squared an' shook his fidts
tXme B. while ago."

"No, I wan't, mother," eaiS the young soape*
grace, stoutly, " for it a'nt manly, folks say, to strike

KlUfiHANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

23&

i at lagt I made him

of the time playing

streets, bat at last

I here ia Elm street,
arkies boxing for a -
ould serve my lads
attle decided. But

II fix the beer-cellar
f be ever forgets it,
t's all."

were," said Paul,
there, from post to

was just ready to
fear that was on me.
83 boxiu' you were,

rightening up at the
M like to have seen
36. Don't you mind
1 all the rest used to
could box? — well I
imer spell than that
ohed into eaoh other

"juEt listen to that
Y if he wasn't imita-
d an' shook his fists

A the young scape*
V, folks say, to strike

A woman But you hadn't ought to call them 'ere
ugly names. I can't stand that, no how !"

" Oun't you, indeed ?" said his father. " Can you
stand this, then ? and this ? and this ?" And suit-
ing the action to the word, he administered an extra
dose of the rod, applying it in a most effective man-
ner to a certain fleshy part of Patsey's little body,
bared expressly for the occasion. If piteous cries
and promises of amendment could have stayed the
avenging arm, the punishment would have been
light indeed, but Paul leant a deaf ear to both, nor
stopped till he had given Patsey what he considered
his due. Neither Nora nor Andy interfered, both
being well satisfied that he " deserved all he got,"
but Jane and Jim were vociferous in their petitions
for mercy, and promises that he'd " never do it
again." " Oh father ! father I let him go now— he'll
never, never do it again I— sure you won't, Patsey ?
Oh ! mother ! mother ! won't you save him ?"

" No, no, children ! — ^I can't 1— my heart aches to
see him gettin' such a beatin', but it's good for him,
Jane dear !— it's good for him ! — he'd go to the devil
entirely, or be killed on us some day like poor Peter
if we let him go on any longer !"

At length, when Patsey was released with an in-
junction from his father to " be sure an' run away
again for an afternoon, an' get into a beer-cellar with
the darkies," Jane and Jim followed their brother
into the corner where he hid himself. Jane put her
arm round his neck, and Jim took hold of his hand,

236

CON o'RBOAN } OR,

crying all the time as though he had had his shart
of the correction. Bat Patsey was sullen and would
not be comforted. To every kind, consoling word
of Jane's, \q only answered : " Never mind — when
I'm a man they shan't use me so 1 — I'll go where I
like, and do just ab I've a mind to."

" Oh, Patsey 1" whispered Jane, in terrified ac-
cents, " dou't talk so— father will hear you !"

" I don't care if he do, Jane !— he needn't have
used me so ! — it a'nt an wonder that folks talk so
of Irish Paddies !— they ' -eal meau !"

Meanwhile, Paul and Ins wife were discussing in
a low voice with Andy Dwyer the pernicious in-
fluence of bad example, as exemplified in the case
before them. Paul and Nora were filled with grati-
tude for the great mercy of God in their regard, in*
asmuch as they were about to escape with their chil-
dren from the polluted thoroughfares of the city,
while Andy bemoaned the hard fate which chained
him to the spot.

" However," said he, rising and taking his hat,
'* we must only do the best we can, and leave the
rest to God. I suppose He'll make it all right in the
end if we only do our duty wherever He places ns.
Patrick I" said he, addressing the dark-browed boy,
" I hope this will be a useful lesson to you all your
life, and that your father will never have to punish
you BO again. What could induce you to do each a
thing ?"

" Why, you see, Terry tmd me—"

n'^iV-^"*

le bad had Lis share
vaa sullen and would
;ind, coDSolmg word
' Never mind — when
80 1 — I'll go where I
to."

ane, in terrified ao-
ill hear you I"
i I — he needn't have
er tliat folks talk so
meau !"

'e were diecuasing in
>,r the pernicious in-
tmplified in the case
rere filled with grati-
)d in their regard, in-
scape with their ohil-
ighfares of the city,
1 fate which chained

and taking his hat,
'6 can, and leave the
lake it all right in the
lerever He places ns.
he dark-browed boy,
isson to you all yo\ir
never have to punish
luce you to do sach a

ae »

EMIOBANT I.IFB IN THE NBW WORLD.

231

«• Terence, if you please, Patrick !"
" Well ! you see, Terence and me and Job Easton
and Bill Black were all playing marbles on tiae side-
walk, just along by that 'ere cellar-door, and we saw
all the folks a-running in, and we ran like the rest to
see what it was. And when we saw the darkies
stripped, jest a-going to fight, says Terry to me,
says he: 'Patsey, I guess we'll see it out.' And
says I, ' all right,' so we staid till the fight was over,
and that's all. I'm sure it wan't any great harm !"

«' Not a word, now 1" said his father, angrily ; "not
a word, or 111 give you another touch of the rod.
ril show yoQ it loas harm, and great harm, too !-^o
oflf to your bed, this minnit, and, Jane, see that he
says his prayers. Make him say them out loud so
that youll be sure."

" Well, now, Andy !" said Mrs. Bergen, " aren't
you in a great hurry? Can't you sit awhile, now
that we've got a little peace ?"

» Oh, no ! I must be going, Mrs. Bergen. Poor
Alice gets lonesome when Pm out too long. I tell
you, Paul !" he added, lowering his voice to a whis-
per ' " you have need to look after that same boy of
yours. If you don't, mind my words, you'll have
trouble with him ! Don't take it ill of me to say bo,
either of you, but you know Pm rearing a fami y
myself and I'd be thankful to any one that would
tell me of their faults before it was too late."

« And we arc thankful to you, Andy," said Paul,
in the same tone, while Nora began to rook herself

188

CON O'REOAir ; OR,

to and fro, as was usual with her in any fresh ao*
cession of sorrow ; " we are thankful to you, Andy,
for your good advice. Do you know I often thought
the same myself, for there seems to be something
very dark and very rough in Patsey above all the
rest. Howsomever, if we only had him away from
here we might get along better with him."

"That's my notion, too," said Andy, " but now I
mast wish you good night."

" Good night, Andy, an' safe hom« to you !"

- -' \ •j*.';Kt''^ ••^/i^e^^fllk'B!^"

iis

^wr'^^"!'^*^^''"^

MWBAKT LIFE IK THB NEW WOBLD.

339

r in any fresh ao-
iful to you, Andy,
ovr I often thought
9 to be Bomelhing
tsey above all the
ad him away from
ith him."
\n(?y, "but now I

)m« to yon !"

CHAPTER XIV.
For the first few weeks after Winny's departure,
Mr. Coulter had a hard time of it. What with
Winny's supposed ill-conduct and the shelter af-
forded her by the Mis. s Coulter, which was done
through pure spite, as she alleged,-" for nothing in
the world but to annoy Acr,"-Mr8. Coulter had ac-
quired a fresh supply of ammunition wherewith she
kept up a running fire on her husband as often as he
placed himself within gunshot of her, which, to say
the truth, was as seldom as possible. Now, it was
nothing but the meanness and rascality of the Irish,
the singular taste that some people had for having
them about them; again, it was the mean spiteful-
ness of old maids, who had nothing better to do
than teazing and annoying their neighbors. As a
general thing Mr. Coulter would listen in silence,
answering only by an occasional " Humph," or " Do
tell. Prudence!" or some such exclamation; but
once or twice he was so nettled by the contemptu-
ous allusion to his sisters that he could not keep
•ilenoe.

^m^

'53'^fc'^r-*^^^?^**^*'*******^"^

140

ooN o'hioan ; OR,

' Why, Prudenoti ! my dear, you needn't tarn np
year nose so at old maida I I know somebody and
BO do you, too, that was very near being one herself
— so near, indeed, that a year or two would bsvo
raised her to the dignity of the upper shelf, where
she might have withered all her life ' on the virgin
thorn,' if it hadn't been for somebody else that came
along just in time. If my sisters are old maids, they
wear their age respectably, so let me hear no more
on that subject."

There was a singular energy and determination
about Mr. Coulter on such occasions that his wife
never dared to brave, so she was fain to suspend
operations for a more favorable opportunity, and fall
back upon a dignified silence.

But the attack was sure to be renewed very soon
again, and Mr. Coulter, sick and tired of the ever-
lasting topic, determined to make a bold effort on
behalf of Winny's reputation, and to fathom the
secret of the allegations brought against her, if mor-
tal man could do it. Lest the reader might be dis-
posed to give the old gentleman too much credit, we
must admit that his desire to get rid of the unceas-
iag taunts and insinuations of his wifu had at least
as much to do in his praiseworthy resolution, as his
strict sense of justice, strengthened as it was by
gratitude.

" If I can only get that old man off ray back," said
he, as he took a neatly-folded paper from his escru-
toire, " I'll bo as happy as ever Sinbad was to got

you needn't tarn np
know somebody and
ar being one herself
or two would hovo
B upper shelf, where
r life ' on the virgin
)body else that came
8 are old maids, they
et me hear no more

r and determination
asions that bia wife
nras fain to suspend
opportunity, and fall

B renewed very soon
d tired of the ever-
ike a bold effort on
and to fathom the
t against her, if mor-
reader might be dis-
too much credit, we
et rid of the unoeas-
bis wifu had at least
,hy resulution, as his
hened as it was by

in off my back," said
iper from his escru-
' Sinbad was to got

MIOBANT urn IM THK NEW WORLD.

241

rid of his burden. Now, Dr. Richards 1 my man,
now comes the tug of war I I'll just step over to
his office to pay him this bill which he sent mo a
couple of days ago, and I'll see if I can't get some-
thing out of him that may serve m against Pru-
dence."

So bustling along in his quick, business-like way,
he stepped into Dr. Richards' elegantly furnished
office, where he happily found the doctor alone.
The compliments of the morning being interchanged,
the doctor laid down the daily paper whioh he had
been " just glancing over," he said, on Mr. Coulter's
taking out his pocket-book and handing over the
bill to be receipted.

" There's the amount, doctor ; I believe you'll fnd
It correct."

"Quite so, Mr. Coulter," pocketing the roll of
bills ; " I'm much obliged to you."

" Not at all, doctor ; not at all. I owe you more
than money can pay for having restored my little
Rachel to life when I thought her almost gone.
Between you and Winny, you made s good job of

it."

" Ah yes!— Winny !" repeated the doctor; "Win-
ny is a good nurse, Mr. Coulter — a very good our^e,
indeed. She could make a very good living out of
that very thing, and I offered to recommend oer to
my patients, but she wouldn't hear of it, sir— wouldn't
hear of it, at all Strange enough, wasn't it ?"

«« Why, doctor," said Mr. Coulter, " I'm only sur-

212

CON O REGAN ; OR,

prised at yoar making ber each an offer — you thai
knew BO much about ber."

" Who — I ?" said the doctor, in a startled tone ;
" I assure you, Mr. Coulter, / know nothing about
the girl one way or the other, except what I saw of
her in your house. Who sa.id I did ?"

" Why, my wife, Mrs. Prudence Coulter, did," re-
turned the humorous old gentleman, with the cool-
est composure. " She made very serious «llegatioi '
against poor Winny, and referred me* to you as Her
authority. I have been very busy ever since, and
the affair, I knew, could wait, so I gave myself no
farther trouble about it at the time; but now that
I have a quiet opportunity of talking to you in pri-
vate, I would thank you, doctor, to let me know
exactly what you have to say against Winny."

At this the doctor winced a good deal, and his
bold, glittering eye sank before the k-en glance of
his interrogator. A very faint blush, or something
like it, mounted to his cheek, and he could only re>
peat in a dogged tone :

" Why, I have already told you, Mr. Coulter, that
I have nothing to say to the girl. What should I
know about such people unless they come before me
in the way of business, and I assure you that is as
seldom as I possibly can. It is my interest, sir, to
keep clear of the Irish lest my practice should suffei'
if I were known to go much amongst them."

" Ahem !" said Mr. Coulter ; " that is all very dig-
nified, doctor, and very becoming in • fashionable

h
tl
ir

a]
ei

it
tl
Ic
n

a
b
ir
b

9R,

1 an offer — you that

, in a startled tone ;
know nothing about
xcept wbat I saw of
[ did ?"

ace Coulter, did," re-
[eman, with the cool-
ry serious «llegatior "
ed me* to you as Her
busy ever since, and
30 I gave myself no

lime; but now that
alking to you in pri-
tor, to let me know
gainst Winny."
i good deal, and his
3 the k^en glance of

blush, or something
ind he could only re-

'OUjMr. Coulter, that
;:rl. What should 1

they come before me
assure you that is as
is my interest, sir, to
practice should suffei'
[nongst them."

" that is all very dig-
uing in • fashionable

KMIORANT LIFE IM THE HEV WORLD.

213

physician, but it does not answer mi/ question.
What has Winny O'Regan done to you that you en-
deavor to blacken her character ? — Endeavor^ I say,
doctor — mark the word! for I tell you there is no
chance of your succeeding. Winny's character ia
beyond suspicion."

Here the doctor started to his feet and clenched
his fist as though he would have struck the old gen-
tleman who sat looking at him with such a provok-
ing smile. " What has she done to me ?" he cried,
" the termagant, the vixen ! what could she do to
me ? — no doubt she has been telling a plausible story
about — about — pshaw ! what a fool I am ?" he add-
ed, pettishly, as he pushed his chair from him.

" Keep your seat, my dear sir !" said the provok-
ingly calm Mr. Coulter; "I am not going just yet,
though I hope I shall soon. Sit down, doctor, and
let us talk the matter over in a quiet, friendly
way. Now, you know, my dear sir, Winny is a
very good-looking girl, and it is no great wonder if
a fine rollicking young fellow like you should have
been casting a stray glance that way now and then,
in the tempting privacy of the sick-room. Don't
blush, doctor, we are all of us mortal, and have little
tender instincts planted within us, doubtless for a
wise purpose. Now I see as plainly as can be that
you and Winny had a little tiff— exeuse the word,
doctor, and, in the heat of the moment, you went and
told Mrs. Coulter what yon were sorry for when
yoa cooled down. Now, doctor, don't you think I

S44

CON 0*Rt(3AN ; OK,

ean gueu as well as any one if I only try. Ton
have just been making some little experiments on

Wiuny's virtue "

" And so have you, at one time or another, I'll be
Bworn, my old chap !" swd the doctor, losing his ha-
bitual caution.

" I deny it, sir," said Mr. Coulter, firmly and
coldly, and he, too, stood up; "I was never addict
ed to such pursuits, and if I had been, Winny
O'Regan would have Jifien the last woman living I'd
think of in any such way, for. Doctor Richards 1 there
is that about Winny which would repel the advances
of any but a hardened libertine. That girl, s-r, h as
pure, both in mind and body,a8 the drifting sncw,
and you know it as well as I do, if you'd only say
80. Good morning, doctor !— good morning 1"

The old gentleman bowed stiffly and was moving
away when the doctor, recovering, all at once, his
habitual presence of mind, hurried before him

saying :

" Allow me, Mr. Coulter !" then added before he
turned the bandle, " I trust we are none the worse
friends for what has passed, and I am sure you are
too generous to seek to injure me in my practice by
giving undue importance to a mere idle jest."

" Hum ! jest, indeed !" repeated the other, snap-
pighly—o a fine jest truly, and a harmless oise— very 1
^let me pass, doctor — will yon ?"

" Well, but, Mr. Coulter, you will oblige me by
saying nothing of what has passed between us 1"

OR,

I if I only try. Ton
Utile experiments on

ime or another, I'll be
B doctor, losing bia ba-

. Coulter, firmly and
" I was never addict
• I bad been, Winny
I last woman living I'd
5octor Richards 1 there
uld repel the advances
le. That girl, s'.r, h as
y, as the drifiing sn; w,
I do, if you'd only say
-good morning !"
stifily and wos moving
vering, all at once, bis
, harried before him

then added before be
we are none the worse
and I am sure you are
re me in my practice by
a mere idle jest."
>eated the other, snap-
1 a harmless one — ^very 1
ron?"

you will oblige me by
>aBBed between us 1"

BMICRANT UFK IN THE NKW WORLD.

245

" As far as Mrs. Coulter is concerned, I will make
no such promise. Winny, too, must hear how the
matter stands. As for any one else hearing of your
little peccadilloes from me, you needn't fear, doctor
— I have something else to mind besides retailing
choice bits of scandal— I leave that to your pious
folk, Doctor Richards. Good morning to you!—
Excuse my tresspassing on your time!" and with
the same tantalising smile on his thin puckered lips,
and the same cool, keen irony in his full, manly
tones, away bustled Mr. Coulter, leaving the doctor
to his meditations, which were anything but agree-
able in their nature at that particular juncture.

Mr. Coulter made it a point to be home early to
dinner that day, so early, indeed, that Mrs. Coulter
was taken quite aback, and thought it necessary to
apologize. The dinner was not quite ready yet,
that tiresome Eve was so slow. There was really
no such tLIug as getting along with her.

Mr. Coulter, which was rather unusual with him,
declared himself in no hurry, he could wait a little
while, provided it were not too long. " As to Eve,"
said he, " she is one of your own choice, my dear,
BO I have nothing to say between you. When you
fiad one who could put the dinner on the table pre-
cisely to the minute, without the slightest trouble
to you, there was one fault and another constantly
found out in her— faults that nobody saw but your-
Belfj—you never stopped till you got rid of her. So
pray let me hear no more complaints now 1"

216

CON o'rroav ; OR,

« Wbj, Samuel, how on earth could I put up witk
Winny, after bearing what I did of her ? — you are
really very unreasonable !"

•' Not a bit of it, my good Prudence, not a bit of
it. You ought to have known Winny better than
to hearken to such slanderous stories against her.
Did you ever see anything improper in her conduct
or deportment ? — eh. Prudence ?"

" Well I of course, I can't say I ever did, but then
Doctor Richards found out something, and you know
there was no possibility of his being mistaken."

" Was there not, indeed ? — I tell you, Prudence,
whether he was mistaken, or whether he had taken
some little pique against Winny, he trumped, up the
whole story out of his own imagination."

" Mr. Coul ter ! — you as-ton-ish me ! — Doctor Rich-
ards a pique against Winny! — why, how on earth
could you think of such a thing ?"

" Because I have it from no less a person than the
dbctor himself, my dear I" said Mr. (Suiter, with an
exutling smile, and a nod to match, " that is to say,
I fished the precious secret out of the miry pool
where it lay in his heart — not with his will, Mrs
Coulter, you may be sure. Are you aston-is/iecl now,
my dear?"

" Well, after that, nothing will ever astonish me
again — nothing ! But do tell me, Samuel ! what you
have discovered I'

" I will, if you promise to say nothing about it, for

OR,

h eould I put ap witk
lid of her ? — jou are

'rndence, not a bit of
n Winny better than
s stoi'iea against her.
)roper in her conduct

3?"

Y I ever did, but then
ething, and you know
being mistaken."
[ tell you, Prudence,
hether he had taken
y, he trumped, up the
igination."

;h me ! — Doctor Rich-
-why, how on earth
?"

ess a person than the
Mr. (youlter, with an
atch, " that is to say,
ut of the miry pool
t with his will, Mrs
you aston-islied now,

■■ill ever astonish me
le, Samuel ! what you

r nothing about it, for

F.MIGRA.S-T LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

I had to promise not to speak of it except to you and

Winny."

Mr. Coulter well knew that such a promise was
sure to be kept for fear of disgracing the conventicle
which rejoiced in the membership of the worthy doc-
tor. So, having received the promise, he repeated
to his wife his previous conversation with Dr. Rich-
ards, and when she had heard all, she held up her
hands in utter amazement.

" Well ! I'm sure no one ever could have thought
of such a thing! Dear me ! I shall never like that
Dr. Richards again!— though, after all, Samuel, we
must not be too harsh in our judgment on an erring

brother "

"Brother me no brothers, Prudence !" cried hei
husband ; " the man is no brother of mine, and never
shall be, please the fatet " I'd rather have a decent
Hindoo for a brother !— I would, by Jupiter !"

Mr. Coulter seldom swore, but when he did, he
took good care to make his oath as imposing as pos-
sible, without actually blaspheming the name of God,
for which he had a certain degree of respect. " Now,
Prudence!" said he; as his wife rang the bell to
"hurry up" the dinner, "now. Prudence, my dear
wife, I wish you to understand that Winny's reputa-
tion is clearly restored— you admit that fact— don't

you?"

«' Oh ! of course — I know you never state a false-
hood."

« Well, then !— that point is settled now and fof

848

co.v o'kegak ; or,

ever ! — I am to hear no more of it I^remembef
that!" ^-

" Why, Samuel ! how you do talk I Surely, I
cannot tell how the girl may conduct herself here-
aller."

" That is not the question — we have only to deal
with the past. Winny will trouble you no more, so
let her rest in peace, as Catholics say of their dead.
Now, then, for that savory soup of yours, Pru-
c'jiice." Peace thus proclaimed and duly estab-
lished, the rich pea-soup was discussed with exqui-
site gout, Mr. Coulter observing as he handed back
his pUie for a fresh supply : " liest in peace, indeed !
— the peace of the grave is but a sorry peace after
all. For my part, ilke honest Charley Lamb, ' I
would set up my tabernacle here. I am in love
with this green earth,' and have no hankering after
the peace or happiness of that spirit-land of which
men talk and write, just as though any of them had
ever seen it. Pshaw ! this smoking, juicy joint,"
and he plunged the fork into a tempting piece of
roast beef, " is worth an hundred of those • baseless
fabrics,' which make up what is called 'revealed
religion.' Still, they are all very well in their way,
especially for those who have not much of the crea-
ture comforts here below. The poor people of
Ireland, for instance — no wonder they have such
faith in things unseen, for their lot here is weary
enough."

Such was the usual course of Mr. Coulter's semi

; OR,
ore of it !— ^renaember

1 do talk I Surely, I
r conduct herself here-

— we have only to deal
rouble you no more, so
olics say of their dead,
soup of yours, Pru-
imed and duly estab-
I discussed with exqai-
ing as he handed back
Rest in peace, indeed !
but a sorry peace after
Bst Charley Lamb, ' I
9 here. I am in love
ive DO hankering after
.t spirit-land of which
lOugh any of them had
smoking, juicy joint,"
> a tempting piece of
Ired of those ' baseless
at is called ' revealed
ery well in their way,
not much of the crea-
The poor people of
mder they have such
leir lot here is weary

)f Mr. Coulter's semi

EMIGRANT I.IFK IN THE NEW WORLD.

249

religious, semi-philosophic musings, spoken alond
on the present occasion under the influence of the
good man's sensible satisfaction. His wife listened
Avilh more displeasure than surprise, contenting
herself with a dissenting shake of the head, and a
freezing «' Fie, fie, Samuel ! why will, you talk so ?"
Then adroitly changed the subject to one of more
immediate interest, namely, the steady improvement
of Rachers health, which had been at first rather
precarious.

" But, Prudence I" said Mr. Coulter, as if with
sudden recollection, " did I ever tell you that Con
O'Regan is going out West in the spring f"

" Out West I — why, no ! — how can he go out
West ? — what is he going to do there ?'

Mr. Coulter laughed. " One question at a time,
my dear, \iyou please."

" Well ! but, Samuel, what is he going to do ?"

" Why, to settle on a farm, to be sure ? — what else
would he do ?"

Mrs. Coulter began to look very grave, and fixed
a penetrating glance on her husband. "And the
money f — how is he to get a farm anywhere? Farms
a'nt got for nothing, I reckon." '

" Sometimes they are, but Con don't need that,
My sisters are going to advance him whatever sum
is necessary till such time as he can repay it."

»• Oh I your sisters !" said the lady, with a some-
what inoredalous air ; ' that is always the excuse
A likely story, truly !"

250

CON O^RBGAN ; OR,

{

" Prudence !" aaid the husband, with one of his
sternest looks, " do you mean to doubt the truth of
what I tell you ?"

" Oh ! of course I don't, Samuel. I should be
very sorry, indeed ; but, then, one cannot help
thinking, you know, how exceedingly convenient it
is to have sisters with such ample funds at their com-
mand I"

" It is certainly very convenient for my sisters
themselves," said Mr. Coulter, sharply ; " I should
be sorry to see them without funds, as you say, de-
pending on you or me, Prudence. May they never
be reduced to that position ! But let that pass —
they are doing what I tell you for Con O'Regan, let
their funds be as they may."

" And Winny ? I suppose they are sending her,
too ?"

" Not exactly ! — I dare say they are of opinion
that Winny would find prairie-life rather hard for
nwhile. She remains with them till her brother's
wife and children come out from Ireland, next year
or so — then they will all go together."

" Well ! I have only to observe," said Mrs. Coul-
ter, as she rang her table-bell, " that your sisters are
extremely free with their money. They should have
been born Irish — they are so improvident."

" Why, Prudence I this from you I Can it be ne-
cessary to remind a chosen vessel of that heavenly
treasury where nuither the rust nor the moth dotb
consume, &o. ?"

- nttBa.'M«»«iB>*iffvsi

BMI^^S^Ai^''-^

i; OB,

isband, with one of his
n to doabt the trath of

Samnel. I should be
then, one cannot help
ceedingly convenient it
nple funds at their com-

ivenient for my sisters
,er, sharply ; " I should
t funds, as you say, de-
lence. May they never
I But let that pass—
3U for Con O'Regan, let

s they are sending her,

ay they are of opinion
rie-life rather hard for
them till her brother's
from Ireland, next year
together."

>serve," said Mrs. Coul-
1, •' that your sisters are
ney. They should have
I improvident."
[>m you ! Can it be ne-
vessel of that heavenly
ast nor the moth dotb

EHIQRANT LIFE i:^ THE NEW WORLD,

251

" Pshaw ! — nonsense !" cried the wife, in a queru-
lous tone, detecting in her husband's unusually
solemn and measured acoents the slighest possible
imitation of her favorite preacher. " There's a time
for all things. I don't profess to understand the
sayings or doings of eccentric persons, and I beg
you will say no more on the subject. I am not suf-
ficiently benevolent to be consulted in the very be-
nevolent whims of your good sisters. I shall mind
my own affairs — let them mind theirs."

" All right, Prudence ! all right I — good-bye now
— ^I must be off!" and waiting to hear no more, the
old gentleman hurried to the hall in search of his
hat and overcoat, muttering to himself, as was his
wont: "Speculative charity is one thing, and opera-
tive charity another. I rather think the former is
the more fashionable amongst you all I Humph ! — ■
eccentric, indeed ! — I wish you had some of such ec-
centricity— just a little more of the milk that we all
wot of would do you no harm, my good lady !"

About the same time that Mr. Coulter was going
back to his office, little Patsey Bergen, on his way
to the afternoon school, overtook Terry Dwyer, not
far from the sohool-house door.

" Hillo, Dwyer I is this you?"

"Why, yes, I guess it is. Have you most got
over your whipping, Patsey ? — father told me you
bad a first-rate one. I don't know how you felt, but
[ felt real sore, I tell you !"

" No matter how I felt," said Patsey, with a aud'

feafc^rtftS gSM i &S ^ ■ ■

2hi

CON o'RcaAW ; or,

den change of manner," I a'nt going to ha-e another
whipping like that."

"Oh I I know — you'll be a good boy for the time
to come."

"No, I won't— I'm blowed if I will !— but if ever

father undertakes to use me ao again, I'll ," he

stopped.

" You'll what ?" said the other, in breathless ea-
gerness.

" I'll run away !— I will !— I'll clear out from them
altogether."

'• You will, eh ? — and where will you go to ?"

" Never you mind that, Terry — I'll go where they
shan't find me. Jake Hampton told me that he ran
away once 'case his father wouldn't give him any
money, and after he was gone a week, he came right
home again, and the old folk weYe ever so glad to
see him, and ever sence he jest gits what money he
wants and goes wherever he has a mind to."

Dwyer shook his head. "I wouldn't do it, if I
were you, Patsey."

" There . — Patsey again. I a'nt a going to have
folks call me so any longer."

"And what am I to call you? — Patrick, I suppose,
because father says Patrick's a good name."

" No, it a'nt a good name !" said young Bergen,
stoutly; "Patrick ia just as bad as Patsey, and
they're both the same as Padhj. Call me Bergen — •
not Patsey or Patrick. Don't you see how I call
you Dwyer ev-er since yesterday, 'case Henry Clay

^s«R

*', OB,

It going to ha^e another

i good boy for the time

d if I will ! — bat if ever
le »o again, I'll ," he

other, in breathless ea-

-I'll clear out from them

ire will you go to ?"
Brry — I'll go where they
)ton told me that he ran
wouldn't give him any
ie a week, he came right
Ik wei-e ever bo glad to
jest gits what money he
) has a mind to."
" I wouldn't do it, if I

I a*nt a going to have

)u ? — Patrick, I suppose,
} a good name."
!" said young Bergen,
as bad as Patsey, and
r/7y Call me Bergen —
m't you see how I call
;rday, 'case Henry Clay

kmigra!;t life in the nkw woRi.n.

253

Brown said Terry was a nasty Irish name, too, just
like Paddy. Now mind, you call me Bergen, and
I'll call you Dwyer— if I once got away from our
folks I'd have others call me Jake or Jeff, or some
such pretty name."

" Hush — h — h — I" cried young Dwyer, as he opened
the door of their school-room — " come along in, Pat-
sey !"

" Patsey !" repeated the little rebel, knitting his
brows together.

" Oh, bother! — I meant Bergen !— come in quick
— I guess we're late I

When school was dismissed, Terry Dwyer, on
gaining the street, looked round in search of his
friend Patsey, but the latter was nowhere to b»
seen, and Terry was fain to hurry home, having a
salutary fear of his father's muscular arm raised in
punishment. He was jogging along home whistling
" Dandy Jim from Caroline," then the most popular
of melodies in all American cities, when out popped
Patsey's curly head from an archway, and after it
canne inttanter the burly little figure of the owner,
accompanied by the identical Jake Hampton, whose
example he had triumphantly cited in the morning.
Hampton lounged away in another direction, leav-
ing our young friends to " wend their homeward
way" as tlfey chose.

" Well, Bergen ! what's in the wind now ?" said
Terry, with a knowing smile.

" Why, Jake has just been a-telling me as how A«

Attjtwaa^ wEsg-

251

CON o'hkoan ; OR,

woulJn't go to that faraway place where uncieliveg,
if he were me. He says he's sure it's a rum sort of
place, for he heard his old Uncle Ben say so. There's
only buffaloes and Irishmen there, folks say, and if
a boy wanted to run away he couldn't do it, nohow.
It a'ut a bit like here, Jake says."

"Well! I don't know anything about it," said
B wyer, musingly, " but I guess you'd better go with
your folks, wherever thxy go. At any rate, you'd
better say nothing of the kind at home, or you'll
catch it."

"Aha!" laughed Patsey, "I a'nt so green as that.
I know a thing or two." And so, with a farewell
nod, ho turned a corner in the direction of his homa

■MIGRANT Lirr. lH THE NBW WORLD.

y place where unoieltvei,
's sure it's a rum sort of
ncle Ben say so. There's
1 there, folks say, and if
le couiJn't do it, nohow,
says."

lything about it," said
ess you'd better go with
',0. At any rate, you'd
kind at home, or you'Jl

" I a'nt so green as that.
And so, with a farewell
le direction of his homa

CHAPTER XV.

DnRWo all this time Paul Bergen and his wif«
were anxiously looking out for an answer from
Pelix, now fearing that he might change his mind, or
that some untoward accident might occur to frnB-
trate their cherished hopes, now endeavoring to an-
ticipate the contents of the expected letter, and lay-
ing down plans for procuring the necessary outfit.
Even the presents to be taken to Felix and his wife
were not forgotten. Fearful of being led into
temptation at so critical a juncture, Paul was most
careful in avoiding all those whose company he had
found dangerous in times past. Dances and raffles
he gave up altogether, taking care, however, to give
whatever he could afford at the time in aid of the
charitable purpose for which either was got up.
Many a sneer, and many a bitter taunt he had to en-
counter in the course of this long probation, but as
he used to say to Nora, or Andy Dwyer : " It's my-
self that has the fine broad back to bear it all, and I
can let them laugh as long aa they like when my
ooDScienoe tells me I'm in the right. ' Thej may

-•'*^ses<aMesBjsaSk«si'^***»»''******«**^*''^' "

156

CON o'rfoan ; OB,

laugh that win,' is an old saying, and maybe I'll" have
the laugh in the long run. If Felix keeps in the same
mind, an' sends for us as he promised, I can snap my
fingers at them all."

Meanwhile, he had contrived, by the closest eco-
nomy, to save some fifteen or twenty dollars, which
was to " help with the outfit, if they were going in
the spring, as, please God! they would."

Leaving them to enjoy the mingled hope and fear
of their expectant state, let us see how Con O'Kegan
employed his time while waiting for the coming
spring. He bad obt ed a situation as storeman in
a wholesale liquor store not far from ihe new estab-
lishment of Coulter, Pirns ^ Co., and, at first, he
thought he had been very fortunate, inasmuch as
most of the hands employed about " the concern"
were countrymen of his own. It is true their
manners and even their appearance were rather
against the snpposition, but then their names — why,
Burely, Tom Houlahan, and Fliil Byrne, and Larry
Smith, must be Irish, else how did they come by such
patronymics? TesI these three were certainly his
own countrymen. That was very clear to Con, and
he treated them from the first in quite an easy, fami-
liar way, very different from the involuntary re-
straint which marked his intercourse with the others.
After a few days, however, he became somewhat
doubtful as to the " birth and breeding" of his com<
panions with the old Celtic names. Their lineage
was, of course, unmistakeable, but that was small com

fort

tion

mac

to, 1

min

rigl

as ;

thai

slid

and

oug^

dire

a b

but

Chu

or d

oft

pan

or"

but,

The

and

for

to (

ofr

Thii

gra(

lunt

coa

and maybe I'll' have
ix keeps in the same
lised, I can snap my

by tlie closest eco-
enty dollars, which
they were going in

would."

igled hope and fear
e how Con O'Regan
ng for the coming
ktion as storeman in
from the new estab-
!/0., and, at first, be
anate, inasmuch as
30ut " the concern"
It is true their
ranee were rather
I their names — why,
[ Byrne, and Larry
i they come by such
I were certainly his
•y clear to Con, and

quite an easy, fami-
the involuntary re-
irse with the others.

became somewhat
ceding" of his com*
nes. Their lineage
. that was small com

KMIGKAXT MFB IN THE NEW WOULD.

251

fort to Con. He found out, to his great mortifica-
tion, that Tom Houlahan laughed at all religion, and
made it his boast that he " did just as he had a mind
to, and didn't care a chaw of tobacco for priest or
minister." Every man, according to Tom, had a
right to live as well and as long as he could, and
as for a future state of reward or punishment,
that was " all a sham, intended by lying preachers
to get money out of folks' pockets nice and
slick." Such was Houlahan's creed. As for Smilli
and Byrne, they had a sort of notion that they
ought to be Catholics, and would never make any
direct attack on the Papists or "Romanists" aa
a body, which was quite common with Houlahan,
but still they never went the length of going to
Church, laughed at the idea of going to confession,
or depriving the body of any comfort for the good
of the soul. They, each of them, had one or other
parent living, and would admit that the " old man"
or " the old woman" went to Church, " and all that,"
but, as for themselves, that was quite another thing.
They were too tired after the week's work to get up
and go to Mass on Sunday mornings. They letl that
for the old folk, who had nothing else to do but go
to Church and pray. As to the sacred obligations
of religion, they seemed to know little and care less.
This was all very new and very strange to Con, who,
gradually finding out his first mistake, began invo-
luntai'ily to shrink into himself, and to observe his
companions wii'* a sort of painful curiosity. They

158

cos o'rkgan ; or,

were all more or lees addicted to profane language ,
strangely sounding oaths and imprecations were fa-
miliar to their lips. Iloulahan was the worst, as
might well be expected in a man who boasted of
having no faith. The sacred name of God and the
accursed name of Satan were all the same to him,
and both were frequently on his lips, without rever-
ence for the one, as without horror of the other. It
was one of his proudest boasts that he had been
born in that city, " he was a native, every inch of
him," and was death on all foreigners. This piqued
' Oon not a little, and he sometimes forgot himself so
far as to retort upon Houlahan, by reminding him
of his parents, who, to Tom's indelible disgrace, bad
been " mere Irish."

" What do you think your poor father and mother
would say if they heard you now, Houlahan?"

" They be d— d ! what care I what they'd say ?
If they hadn't chanced to be Irish, I'd have been a
true-blue American, and not as I am, a half-breed
sort of a feller. If I only had my choice I wouldn't

have a drop of Irish blood in me. No, by ! I

would not."

" It's a pity you couldn't get new blood in your
»enis," observed Con, with sly humor; «'if I was in
your place I'd try, at any rate."

" None of your dry jokes now !" would Houlahan
answer; " if I have Irish blood in my veins, I a'ut
a confounded Papist like you, bending the knee to
•rossos and pictures and all such stuflf. I'm a free-

Ih
a
ha
an

un
or

se
ut
mi
fr.
m:
en
ha
ye
fu

d to profane language ,
1 imprecations were fa-
ban was the worst, as
i man who boasted of
J name of God and the
e all the same to him,
his lips, without rever-
horror of the other. It
aasts that he had been
a native, every inch of
breigners. This piqued
etimes forgot himself so
ban, by reminding him
'b indelible disgrace, had

• poor father and mother
I now, Houlahan ?"
are I what they'd say ?
)e Irish, I'd have been a
)t as I am, a half-breed
ad my choice I wouldu't
in me. No, by ! I

i get new blood in your

sly humor ; " if I was in

ate."

i now !" would Iloulahan

blood in my veins, I a'nt

roa, bending the knee to

1 such stuff. I'na a free-

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WOULD.

259

born American, my boy ! and have no master but
myself. I a'nt any of your mean-spirited, old-
womanish fellers as go to confession, and count
their beads, and take a bath of holy water once in
a while — to cool their crazy brains, I guess. I
ha'nt got anything Irish about me but the name,
and I'll make folks forget that, by jingo !"

It sometimes happened that either Smith or
Byrne would take up the cudgels against Tom,
undertaking to call him to account for his anti-Irish,
or anti-Cp»h-.lic tendencies. Tom, however, would
Boon silence them with :

" Shut up there !— You have no right to talk. —
You're native-born like myself, and as for your
being Papists, I don't believe a word of it. I never
sets any one down in black and white as a Papist
ubless ho goes to their Church regular. Some folks
may, but I don't, so I'll give you credit for being
free citizens like myself, if you'll only keep from,
making youraclves out what you are not. It's
enough for O'Regan to talk and not you. He
ha'nt got tbe verdant hue of • ould Ireland' off him
yet, and his religion is boiling hot. So it's good
fun talking to him, and trying to cool him down
somewhat. He's a good feller, is O'Regan, and I
want to wean him off his old Paddy-ish notions
which will never do here."

This was satisfactory to all save Con himself, who
would coolly answer: "It's very good of you, in-
deed, Houlahan, to take so much trouble on my ao-

260

CON o'rkgan ; OB,

oonnt, but you needn't mind. I'm too old a bird to
be caught with chaff, and as to your weaning, I'd,
have you to know that I cut my eye teeth long ago.
So, you see, there's not much chance of ray being
weaned now."

This would call forth a general laugh, but Con
was proof against laughter as well as reproach, and
day after day he looked with more distrust on those
whom he had at first singled out for the kindly in-
terchange of friendly sympathy.

A few days after Con entered upon the duties ot
his new situation the feast of the Purification came
round, and as most of the solemn festivals of the
Church are, in those parts, postponed to the follow-
ing Sunday, Con knew he had liberty to work as
usual. Nevertheless he took care to hear Mass the
first thing, in order to sanctify the day. On his
way home he met Byrne, who asked him where he
had been so early.
" I was at Mass."

" At Mass ! — the deuce you were !— do you go to
Mass every morning ?"

"No, indeed, Phil! I do not. But, you know,
this is the feast of the Purification— Candlemas Day
we used to call it at home, and it was always a
holyday with us. So I thought I'd just run up to
the Church and hear Mass before Pd go to my

work."

A loud laugh was Byrnb's reply, as he turned
away, but he waited to tell Con that he ought to put

m
w

fel

fo
alj

m
ac
to

lil
ol
ch
th
111
hi
w
lit

■a

OB,

I'm too old a bird to

,o your weaning, VH,

y eye teeth long ago.

chance of ray being

neral laugh, but Con
well as reproach, and
lore distrust on those
>ut for the kindly in-

ad upon the duties ot
the Purification came
demn festivals of the
stponed to the follow-
id liberty to work as
care to hear Mass the
Lify the day. Ou his
Q aaked him where he

I were ! — do you go to

not. But, you know,
ation — Candlemas Day
I, and It was always a
ght I'd just run up to
before I'd go to ray

's reply, as he turned
)n that he ought to put

EVIGRANT LIKE IN THE NEW WORLD.

261

on petticoats at once. " My old mother and you
would make a famous pair," said he; "I warrant
you she's been to Mass, too, this morning. For my
part, Im in more humor of sleeping than praying."
And a gaping yawn confirmed the assertion.

" Why, you must have been up very early !" re-
marked Coo, endeavoring to repress the indignation
ni»turally excited by the other's insolent taunt.

" Early I Ha ! ha I I gueaa I was, for I ha'ut
been in bed all night. I fell in with a set of jolly
fellers last night down to Bryan Fitzsimmous', und
we had sncb glorious fun that we kept it up all night.
I was first rate while it lasted, but I guess I'll pay
for my share of it all day, for I know I shan't be
able to keep my eyes open."

" Well I well !" said Con, " I'm sorry you haven't
more sense, Phil. You'd better hurry home now
and get your breakfast. You'll not have much time
to spare."

♦' My breakfast 1" said the other, with something
like a growl ; " yes, if I can get it. If that tarnation
old woman ha'nt it ready, she'll catch it for her
church-goiug — I swan she will I" And so saying,
the dutiful son hurried away a« fast as his tottering
limbs would carry him. Con stood looking after
him for a moment, and then resumed his homeward
way, with a deep-drawn sigh, and a sense of humi-
liation for which he could hardly account.

<* Ab, then ! God help the mothers of the world !"
■aid he, within himself; "mr.ny'B the hard dny that

1!'

4i:

B62

OON o'keoan ; OR,

poor woman had, rearing you," apostrophiwog
Byrne, " and this is her thanks now ! . Sure enough,
God is good and patient when He lets the like of
you go on from day to day and from year to year !
Well! it's no wonder one's heart warms to poor Ire-
land, for we'd be a long time in it before we'd hear
the like of that."

Before many hours had passed, Con bad reason to
repent of having told Byrne that he had been at
Mass that morning, for Byrne told it to the others as
a capital joko, and it was bandied from mouth to
mouth all the forenoon, till happily something newer
turned up. Con's patience was sorely tried, and he
was several times on the point of making a sharp
retort, but then again he would think, " that would
only make matters worse. If there was any dis-
turbance raised, they'd be sure to lay the blame on
me, and I haven't Mr. Coulter here to take my part.
God grant me patience with these fellows !"

Byrne's heavy eyes were, of course, noticed, and
he was laughingly called upon to give an account of
himself— which he did, nothing loath, well knowing
that neither ridicule nor censure awaited him. It
turned out, in fact, that he was not the only one
who had gone without sleep, for Houlahan had been
to a Native Meeting, which had carried its noisy de-
liberations far into the night, " and after that," said
the narrator, with a low chuckling laugh, " we went
some here and some there in search of amusemftnt.
I guess it was near morning when / got home," ha

t!
ti
T

II
w

fle
mi

HOI

hit

rei

th(

]

bio

wil

lesi

the

you," apostrophizing
ksnow! . Sure enough,
lien He lets the like of
nd from year to year 1
jart warms to poor Ire-
B in it before we'd hear

ssed. Con had reason to
e that he had been at
e told it to the others as
>andied from mouth to
appily Bomethiug newer
w&s sorely tried, and he
loint of making a sharp
)uld think, " that would

If there was any dis*
lure to lay the blame on
Br here to take my part.

these fellows !"

of course, noticed, and
in to give an account of
ling loath, well knowing
insure awaited him. It
} was not the only one
1, for Houlahan had been
had carried its noisy de-
t, " and after that," said
ickling laugh, " we went
in search of amnsemfint,
5 when I got home," he

KlIIORANi LIFE IN THB NEW WORLD.

263

concluded, " so I tumbled into my nest for an hour
or two, till some of the boarders knocked at my
door and told me breakfast was ready."

This was all very intelligible, even to Con, with
the exception of two words which required explaua-
liou. "A Native Meeting!" said he; " ah I then,
Tom, what kind of a meeting is that, if you please?"

"Hear the greenhorn now how he talks

r i_i 1 -«. _

t»

was

Houlahan's good-humored answer; "but, I guess,
we must enlighten him. A Native Meeting is one
got up to keep you and all other such covies in your
own places. Do you understand ?"

Con did understand, though not until he had re-
fleeted for a moment. The old Milesian blood
mounted to his cheek, and on his lips was a oanstic,
scathing answer, but he resolutely kept down the
unruly spirit and drove back the sharp rebuke into
his heart. Biting his lips till they were almost
white, he thanked Houlahan for his explanation, and
removed himself as soon as he poesibly could from
the hearing of whatever might pass between the
worthy friends and companions.

Happily for Con there were one or two real full-
blooded Americans also employed in the store, men,
who minded their business and nothing else, and
with them he usually took refuge, when his patience
was well nigh exhausted with the levity, and heart-
lessness, and irreligion of the others. True only to
the light-hearted and somewhat volatile character
of their race, these IrUh Yankees had lost every

S«4

CON o'hioan ; OB,

higher and more noble trait of tbe peoplf/j^"
w?om they Bprang. The genial 1^-dne.s of heart
the reverence for Bacred and venerable things, the
respect for authority, all these were gone-
" Fled like the baseless fabric of a vUion,
Leaving no trace behitd."
Ah! little indeed do the generality of Irish pa-
rents think, as they see their children growing up
around them amongst a worldly and irreligious peo
pie. of the fearful gulf which passing years will ore^
ate between them and their offspring-a gulf which
„iov be eternal ! Little indeed can they foresee of the
evil which may come upon themselves because ot
those very children, and if not to themselves, un-
doubtedly to the children, when they are gone to
another world to render an account of the manner
in which they discharged their parental duties

It came to pass after a Uttle while that Con closed
his ears altogether against the discourse of Houlahan
and the two gham Catholics, so that even when he
chanced to be near them he heard but little of what
they aaid. One day, however, his attention was ar-
rested by the name of Tom Derragh, accidentally
mentioned by Smith.

« So you know Derragh?" said Con.

« Why, yes, I guess I do !-we ha'nt been a-board-

ing in the same house these three months without

my knowing him. What do you know about him ?»

«' Oh ! not much since he came to this country, but

we're from the same place at home."

OB,

of Ibe people from
ial kindneBS of heart,
venerable things, the
were gone —
ric of a vision,

enerality of Irish pa-
children growing up
lly and irreligious peo
passing years will ore-
ffspring— a gulf which
can they foresee of the
themselves because of
not to themselves, un-
vhen they are gone to
account of the manner
lir parental duties !
le while that Con closed
e discourse of Houlahan
1, flo that even when he
heard but little of what
3r, his attention was ar-
a Derragh, accidentally

' said Con.

we ha'nt been a-board-

36 three months without
you know about him ?"
oame to this country, but
it home.'*

KlilORANT UFK IN THK NETV WORLD.

9«ft

"Tom'B a rum customer," observed Smith; "at
times, you'd think him a first-rate feller, ready and
willing to help on the fun, up to everything in fact,
.ind neither boring himself nor others with any of
your confounded nonsense ; the next time you're out
with him, he'll be as ticklish as a young colt, afraid
of his very shadow, and preaching up religion and
sobriety, nothing less ! He's for all the world like a
weather-cock — you're never sure of finding him one
day in the same humor. You know Derragh, don't
you, Houlahan ?"

" Know him ?" said the other, with a portentous
shake of the head and a grim smile ; " ay ! that I
do. He has a fist like a sledge-hammer — he has !
We quarrelled once down to Thomson Dillon's, and
the confounded ass gave me a box just here on the
bridge of the nose that made the blood flow, I tell
you. I had the mark of that blow on my phiz for
weeks afler in black, blue, and yaller. But he
didn't have it all for nothing!" he added, with a
scowl of gratified revenge ; " Jim Lawson and me
fell on him, and I reckon we grave him about the
worth of what he gave me. Oh ! yes, I know Der-
ragh I — I do ! and a d — d scoundrelly Pad^y he is
too. He ha'nt got no more spirit than nothing.
There's Jason Gallagher as was working with him
on board the Pennsylvania last Fall— ask him what
Tom Derragh is !"

" Ah I" said Con, within himself, " isn't it hard
for any one to keep straight among such lads ai

S6«

CON o'rroan ; OR,

these!— how could poor Tom be anything e'.sef
If I was among them as long as he is maybe it's far
worse than him I'd be ! God keep every one out
of harm's way !"

The next time Con met Tom Derragh it was in
Barney Brady's, where he went with Andy Dwyer
to inquire after a certain Peter Whelan, who was
said to have some idea of going out West. Peter
was from the same parish with Barney, and had
come out in the same ship with him. But their
paths had diverged very soon after landing, Peter
being a sober, industrious man, given to saving
money, whereas Barney was the direct opposite — a
carelpss, improvident, good-natured fellow, who
could hardly ever let one dollar overtake another in
his pocket. Peter was known to have some hun-
dreds of dollars saved, for he had but a small family,
and his wife was to the fall as careful as himself.
His little savings were regularly invested in the
Savings Bank, where interest had been accumulat-
ing on interest until Peter had quite a nice little in-
dependence, the pride of his own and his wife's heart.
Latterly he had taken it into his head to invest
his money in land fir the benefit of himself and his
three boys, who, as Peter said, " will be gettin'
young men or; my hands some of these days, and
they may as well be workin' for themselves out on a
farm, as for others here in the city for a trifle of
wages that'll go as fast as it's earned."
Con having ascertained Peter's whereabouts, said

hi
hi

vc
tb

fai

ou
th
of

Bt(

thi
an

ga
tri

tei

fai

; OR,

am be anything else f
[ as he is maybe it's far
od keep every one out

Fom Derragh it was in
rent with Andy Dwyer
'eter Whelan, who was
[oiog out West. Peter
with Barney, and had
1 with him. But their
on after landing, Peter

man, given to saving
1 the direct opposite — a
d-natured fellow, who
Uar overtake another in
iwn to have some bun-
) had but a small family,
1 as careful as himself,
yularly invested in the
St had been accumulat-
lad quite a nice little in-
own and his wife's heart,
nto bis head to invest
inefit of himself and his

said, " will be gettin'
ome of these days, and

for themselves out on a

the city for a trifle of

's earned."

eter's whereabouts, said

EMIGRANT LIFE IX THE NEW WORLD.

2«T

bo would go on the following Sunday, with God's
help, and see him. He then turned to Tom, who
w as smoking and lounging lazily with his elbow on
the table near where Peggy sat at her knitting.
" Why, Tom, there's some of our men that knows

vnu.

" Very likely !" said Tom, puffing out the smoke
faster still. " There's a good many as knows me. I
guess you mean Larry Smith — don't you ? He told
me about you're being there."

"Yes, and Tom IToulahan — a great friend of
yours!" added Con, slily.

" He be hanged !" said Tom, taking the pipe

out of his mouth in order to express himself with
the desired energy ; " he be hanged 1 he's no friend
of mine, nor never was — he's as big a rap as ever
stood in shoe leather."

" He's a Catholic, is he ? inquired Con, very in-
nocently.

" Is it Houlahan ?" said Tom, indignantly; "why,
the fellow has no more religion in him than a dog,
and he hates Catholics as he hates — hunger! He
got at me one time about my old dad being in pur-
gatory, and wanted to know if I couldn't spare a
trifle to the priest to get him out. Faith he did,
Con, that very Houlahan ! but I tell you I answer-
ed him in a way that he didn't bargain for. I flat-
tened bis big nose for him, and made him anybody's
fancy. I warrant you he let »«c alone ever since
about religion — he did so, for he found it was th«

SQg COM o'REOAN ; OR,

best of his play !" And Tom resumed hU pipe with
great self-complacency. A heavy sigh from Peggy
made him turn quiclily in her direction, ^

" What's the matter with you now, Peggy ?' he
asked in a softened voice.

" Oh ! nothing worth speaking of," said Peggy, m
her usually subdued tone—" I was only thinking of
the quare world we're in — that's all."

Tom eyed her a moment in silence as though con-
sidering what her words might mean, but Peggy'"
meaning lay too deep for his penetration, never of
the keenest, and he had his own reasons for not ply-
ing her with questions. He was silent for a moment,
and then he said to Con with something like a smile :
" I don't know how it is. Con ! but somehow I
don't feel as if I was the same man at all when I'm
here with Peggy that I am elsewhere. The very
bight of her always sets me a thinking, and I get a
making ever so many good resolutions in my own

mind ^"

" Ay ! but they don't last long," said Peggy, with
a mournful smile ; " you're no sooner in bad com-
pany again than the good resolutions are all gone.
An' it'll never be any other way, Tom— I tell you
that plainly— till you keep away from them com-
panions of yours altogether."

" But how could I do that, aianna ! when our
work brings us together ? You know I must work

or starve."
•'Nonsense, Tom, nonsense !— see how Con O'Ro-

OR,

resumed his pipe with

savy sigh from Peggy

direction.

rou now, Peggy ?" he

ing of," said Peggy, in
[ was only thinking of
it's all."

silence as though oon-
;ht mean, but Peggy's
1 penetration, never of
iv-n reasons for not ply-
fas silent for a moment,
something like a smile :

Con ! but somehow I
ae man at all when I'm

elsewhere. The very
i thinking, and I get a
resolutions in my own

long," said Peggy, with
10 sooner in bad oom-
esolutions are all gone,
way, Tom— I tell you
away from them com*

hat, alanna! when ou*
rou know I mast work

le !— see how Con O'Re*

EMIGRANT LirS IN THE NEW WORLD.

969

gan doesn't starve, or Andy Dwyer there, or thii
very Peter Whelan they were talking of a while
ago. They're all working men like yourself, an'
still they choose their company. You see Con is
in the very store with that Houlahan an' Larry-
Smith, an' how well he doesn't take up with them.
Oh, no ! because he has the grace of God about
him, an' knows he can't handle pitch without dirty-
ing his fingers. Shame on you, Tom Derragh,
every one can have a dacent sperii but you. But,
God help you! how could you be anything but
what you are— you that hardly ever crosses a
church door ?"

" Well ! I suppose it's all true enough, Peggy,"
said Tom, wincing just a little, " but don't be too
hard on me I There's some of it your own fault,
after all, and you know that well enough."

«' My fault!" said Peggy, sharply ; " what do you
mean by that, Tom Derragh ?"

«' Why, if you'd only do what you ought to do,
and take me for better for worse, you'd havo it all
in your own hands."

"Indeed then I wouldn't," said Peggy; with a
scornful laugh; "Pm better as I am, an' maybe so
are you. Pm no wife for anybody now, God help
me ! an' you're just as bad on the other side. So
there's no use talkin' that way."

" There's no use talkin' to you at any time, Peggy,"
said Tom, gruffly, " only just what you take in your
own head. A body might as well talk to the wall."

270

CON o'reoan ; OR,

" Just as well !" echoed Peggy, who was already
sinking into her dreamy abstraction. Tom looked
at Con in a way that seemed to say : " Did you ever
see such a strange creature ?" Con smiled and shook
his head, as much as to say : " Between you be it !
You know each other best !"

The truth ia that he was, at the moment, listening
much amused to the conversation going on in tlie
rear between Andy Dwyer, Barney Brady and his
wife. Andy had been lecturing Barney very gravely
on his wasteful, improvident habits, Barney sitting
the while, as it would seem, on the stool of repent-
ance, and his wife enforcing " the words of wisdom"
by an occasional ejaculation, such as "That's it,
Andy !— that's just what I tell him!" "Ilal ha!
Barney, do you hear thai ?" " Put that in your pipe
and smoke it !" Once or twice, however, Barney's
patience was too sorely tested by this joint attack,
and, as he dared not rebel against Dwyer, for whom
he had a great respect, he would turn short on bis
wife with :

" Shut up now, Anty ! I want to hear none of
your Hngo ! Can't you let the decent man go on
without breakin' in on him every now and then with
your nonsense ?"

"Just so, Anastasia," would Andy add, "leave
Bernard to me. Bernard knows that I'm for his
good, and he'll minu what I say to him, I hope in
God. He will walk no more in the way of the un-
godly, or frequent the company of sinners. But I

y, who was already
ition. Tom looked
ay : "Did you ever
)n smiled and shook
Between you be it !

e moment, listening
on going on in the
ney Brady and his
Jarney very gravely
bits, Barney sitting
Lbe stool of repent-
s words of wisdom"
iich as "That's it,

him!" "Ilal ha!
ut that in your pipe

however, Barney's
y this joint attack,
it Dwyer, for whom
I turn short on his

It to hear none of
decent man go on
now and then with

Andy add, "leave
rs that I'm for his
f to him, I hope in
the way of the un-
of sinners. But I

EMIGRANT UFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

211

iee my friend Cornelius is preparing to start, so I
must bid you good-bye. Now, Anastasia, try and
have a little more patience, remembering always that
'a soft word turneth away wrath,' and for you, Ber-
naid, let the taverns alone. When your day's work
is over, come home to your wife and your little
fanuly, and take up some good book to pass the time.
The devil is afraid of good books, Bernard, lake my
word for it. Just do what I tell you, for a few even-
ings, and you'll soon get a heart-hatred for the drink
and the bad company. Good night, now, Bernard !
—good night, Mrs. Brady !— and where's Peggy?"
Peggy stood up, and extended her hand to him with
a smile; "good night, Peggy, w« colketi begl—
if we were all like you, Peggy! it would be well
for some of ual" So nodding to Tom, the worthy
man followed Con down stairs. When he was gone,
Barney and Tom exchanged a meanmg glance, and
a short, significant cough.

"Bless my heart!" said Barney, with an admo-
nilary motion of his finger, " what a power of fine
lingo Andy can put out. It's a thoasand pities he
didn't get on to be a priest. I dcdare he has m«
n'raost convarled from them ' ways of the ungodly'
thfit he was talkin' of. Don't you think I look
mighty solemn, Tom ?"

"As solemn as an owl in a fir-tree," said Tom;
"and sure if you're not convarted, Bernard, both
you and Anastasia there," mimicking Andy's tone,
••• it isn't Andy's fault. Next time I come I expect

ata

CON o'keoan ; OR,

to find you hard and fast a Thittk Well On Jt,^ or
Bome other good book. The old boy is afoard of
them, it seems, so if you'll only hammer away at
them for a time you'll be able to hunt him when he
comes."

Barney and his wife both laughed, but Peggy
told them it was *' a shame for them to laugh at
any such ravin' nonsense" — "go off out of this,
Tom Derraghi' she added, angrily, "it's in your
bed you ought to be at this hour of the night, an'
not helpin' up this poor foolish man here to make
game of Aw betters an' yours."

Tom attempted to apologize, but Peggy would
hear nothing, and literally drove him out of th«
room, telling him not to come back till he learned
better manners.

OR,

lUIORAN'T LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD

313

Think Well On Jt; or
i old boy is afeard of
tnlf hammer away at
I to bant bim wbea he

1 laughed, but Peggy
for them to laagh at

■'•go off out of this,

angrily, "it's in your
hour of the night, an'

ish man here to ma4e

pze, but Peggy would
Srove bim out of th«
le back till he learned

CHAPTER XVL

On the Ibllowing Sunday when Con O'Regan
took Paul Bergen with him to see Peter Whelan,
they found himself and his wife " in the height of
trouble," as they said themselves. It appeared
that the Savings Bank in which Peter's little hoard
was invested had stopped payment .1 few days be-
fore, and nothing oould persuade the afflicted cou-
ple but that all was lost. Andy did his best to per-
suade them that the Bank would most probably go
on as usual after a temporary suspension of pay-
ment had enabled the company to arrange their
affairs. But he might as well have tried to reason
with tht wind. Mrs. Whelan would hardly hear a
word so great was her indignation against "the
robbers that lived by plunderin' the poor, ridin'
about in their fine carriages, at the expense of
creatures like them that earned their money hard
and sore. And God knows but we did that !" she
added with a burst of tears that came from her
very heart. "There wasn't a cent of ill-got money
in them five hundred dollars, not one cent, and och!
ooh ! but that poor man and myself toiled many'a

ST4

CON REGAN ; OR,

i:, '

the day and begrudged ourselves a'most the bit we
ate or the rag Ave wore, so as to keep that mouey
together !"

"If we had only had the good luc. ' said Peter,
a thin and rather care-worn man, *' to have got out
of this unlucky place last Fall when I wanted to go,
•we'd be all right now. We'd be settled by this
time on a good farm of our own that no villains of
bankers could take from us ! But och ! och ! that
■wasn't our luck! and now we're just as if we never
had a shillin.' Black poverty is on us again, the
Lord in heaven help us 1"

" Tut ! tut, man 1" said Andy, " dca't be so easy
cast down. All's not lost that's in danger, you
know. Here's Cornelius O'Regan, a worthy young
friend and countryman of ours. He has got a good
chance that put him in the way of emigrating out
West, and he heard you were thinking of going.
Not a word now, Peter, if you please — I know
what you're going to say, but I tell you that you'll
be with him yet with the assistance of God !"

" I wish we could !" said Peter in a desponding
tone, " but there's little chance of it now, still an'
all I'm glad to see you, Corny !" and he shook his
hand warmly, as did also his wife. "Since luok
seems inclined to leave us, I'm well pleased to see it
•with you. A week ago Mary and myself were full
sure of being off in the soring with our little boys,
but now — ," bo slopped and heaved a deep sigh,
then added quickly—" but what's the use of com-

ll'k;'

OR,

I'ea a'most the bit wo
to keep tbat money

id luc- ' said Peter,
in, " to have got out
vhen I wanted to go,
d be Bettled by this
'^n that DO villains of
But och I och ! that
juat as if we never
u on us again, the

y, " dcn't be so easy
lal's in danger, you
gan, a worthy young
He has got a good
\.y of emigrating out
a thinking of going.
y&u please — I know
[ tell you thiit you'll
ance of God !"
Iter in a desponding
le of it now, still an*
!" and he shook his
wife. " Since luok
well pleased to see it
and myself were full
with our little boys,
heaved a deep sigh,
at's the use of com-

EMIGRANT UFE IN THE NEW WOKLD.

278

I plaining ? Sure there's nothing can come on us
I hut what Qod ordains for us. Dry up your tears,
I Mary, honey I and see if you can't find something
for us to drink. I suppose you're no teetotaller,
Corny ?"

" Well I I am !" said Con, " thongh 1 can't say

I ever took the pledge, but since I came to thia

country I just laid it on myself to avoid liquor

altogether."

"And you're so far right," said Peter, with an ap-

I proving nod to his wife. " It takes a man to have

I all his wits about him here to get along at all, and

as for the money it's a short way it goes if a body

once gets a habit of tippling. Oh ! there's no fear

of yo?< but you'll do well wherever you go. I might

have known you were a decent, sober young man,

or you and Andy wouldn't be much together."

" Well !" said Andy, " Pm obliged to you, Peter,
for your good opinion, and I must own that I am
rather particular in chosing my company, bearing
always in mind what the great Apostle Paul tells ua
in one of his Epistles — I forget which of them, in-
deed ! that ' evil communication corrupts good mo-
rals.' But you must excuse us now, Peter, for my
woman made me promise to bring Cornelius here
back to tea, and I think it is drawing towards even-
ing. Good-bye, Mrs. Whelan ! keep up your heart,
ma'am ! and pray to God, and you'll see things won't
Ve so bad with you as you expect."
' " Well ! Qod grant it !" was the pious response

» f OOK o'rkgam ; OR,

^ure if il's Hit holy will to give us baok oar bard
earniD* again, none of them can keep it from us. Bat
ochi I'm afeard, Andy dear ! that there's little
ohance !"

" There may be more than you think now," said
Andy, looking baok, " so mind and don't be favnt-
hearted !"

Andy spoke against his own convictions, as he ac-
knowledged to Con when they were some distance
from the house. " If they do get a share of it," said
he, " I'm afraid it'll be a very small one. When va-
gabonds like these once get their hands closed on
the money, it'll be hard to get it out of their olatohes.
God forgive them this day, and may He open their
eyes to the iniquity of robbing the industrious poor 1
But, yon see, Cornelias ! this is only another proof
that land is the best thing to invest money iu.
There's no bank like a good farm, fur there's no
bank so sure bat it may go some day, whereas the
farm can never faU, if a man only takes care to till
it. The earth will always bring forth its fruit, Cor-
nelius, for the Lord has promised that seed-time and
harvest shall never fctil."

Con listened with respectful attention, admiring
the dnpth of Andy's wisdom, and thanking God at
the same time that he was in a fair way of having
the promise realized in his behalf. Everything he
saw and heard deepened the conviction on his mind
that the city was no place for him or his, and he be-
gan. to look forward with eager ezpeotation to th«

'«ife;

OR,

^ive us baok oar bard
I keep it from us. Bat
■ ! that there's little

you think now," said
1 and don't be favnt-

i convictions, as he ao-
ly were some distance
get a share of it," said
small one. When va-
tbeir hands closed on
it out of their olatcbes.
ad may He open their

the industrioas poor t
is only another proof

to invest money iu.
i farm, fur there's no
3nve day, whereas the
>nly takes care to till
ng forth its fruit. Cor-
ised that seed-time and

ul attention, admiring
and thanking God at
1 a fair way of having
ebalf. Everything be
sonviotion on his mind
him or bis, and be he-
;er expectation to the

SIIIGBANT MFR IN THE NEW WOni.D.

ill

day that was to liberate him from its thralls, and
send him forth to breathe the pure air of the coun-
try as a tiller of the soil.

" This packing of boxes and barrels and wheeling
of trucks," said he to Winny* when he went to see
her after tea, " is a tiresome thing after all, and
a man might be at it for years and years without bet-
terin' his condition. When I get on the farm, I'll
have to work hard, to be sure, but then it'll be for
myself and my family. There's not a day's work 3
do, but it'll be so much before me, an' besides that's
the kind of work that I like to be at, out all day in the
open air, and not cooped up within four walls, lis-
tenin' to all kinds of bad discoorse, an' seein' very
little that's good. I wish it was the morrow we
were to start—but— but— " he hesitated as he look-
ed at Winny and saw the tear gathering in her eye.

" But what. Con ?"

" Why, nothing, only I'm afeard you'll be very
lonesome after I go, till such times as Biddy comes

ont."

" Oil i never fret about that," said his sister, with
forced cheerfulness ; " how did I do before you came
a all— when the salt ocean was betwixt us ?— but
God was with me then, and hell be with me again
when 1 have no one else— blessed, be His name 1"

Many little matters were discussed and settled on
that evening during the two hours that Con staid,
for Iietty was gone to church to hear a great sermon
from Mr. Shillingworth, which the ladies would not

113

CON RKCAN ; OB,

have her miss for anything. Being thus freed from
the restraint of her presence and the annoyance of
her good-natured officiousness, the brother and sister
talked over everything that concerned them— things
past, present, and future, until the sound of the door-
bell apprized them of the return of the Misses Coul-
ter and Letty.

" My stars !" cried Letty, throwing her little bulky
body heavily on the first chair she came to in the
kitchen, " my stars ! but I am tired !— and I'm sure
the sermon wan't worth much after all. I'm real
sorry I went. You've had such a nice, quiet chat
here, you two. I a'nt hardly able to speak. That
tiresome man kept us so long. But I had a comfort-
able nap after all, only for that I'd have felt dreadful
bad. My sakes 1 such an awful sermon ! It was
two hours if it was one minute I Winny ! take my
bonnet like a good creature. Well ! Con, when are
you going to start ?"

" As early as we can in the month of April, Letty.
They say the canals won't be open sooner.**

" Oh, of course they won't. But have you every-
ihing ready, Con ? and how many of you are going ?"

Con laughed as he replied : " I'm sorry I can't tell
you, Letty, how many are going, baf as for the pre-
parations, Tm all ready, thanks to Winny there and
6ome other body that gave her a good hand. May
the Lord reward every oue that assists the needy I—
and He will reward them an hundred-fold in the
other world."

ling thus freed from
d the annoyance of
he brother and sister
serned them— things
le sound of the door-
i of the Misses Coul-

(ving her little bulky
she came to in the
[red! — and I'm sure
after all. I'm real
h a nice, quiet chat
ible to speak. That
But I had a comfort-
M have felt dreadful
il sermon ! It was
I Winny! take my
rell ! Con, when are

jnth of April, Letty.
en sooner."
But have you every-
y of you are going ?"
I'm sorry I can't tell
, but as for the pre-
;o Winny there and
a good hand. May
assists the needy 1—
hundred -fold in the

EHicnANT i.iFj ;a thb new WOBU).

^..f

"I don't know as to that," said Letty, rathei
thoughtfully, " but let it be as it may, I guess it's re-
ward enough for one to have the pleasure of help-
ing folks when they stand in need of it. I don't
want any other reward. As for them 'ere future re-
wards, I wish wo may git them, that's all, but they
aint sure, so they don't count for much."

Winny and Con exchanged a look of melancholy
meaning, but neither made any direct reply, for ex-
perience had shown both that poor Letly's under-
standing was encased in a double crust of ignorance
and indifference which no effort of theirs could pen-
etrate.

Con soon after bade the girls good night and
went on his way musing on Letty's hard fate. Her
ignorance of ihe simplest elements of religion was to
him wholly inexplicable, considering how flippantly
bhe talked of ministers p.nd criticized sermons.
Alas! he knew little how empty, how hollow is the
theoretical religion which Letty had heard preached
from her infancy— how little hold it has on tho
heart, how little impression it makes on the mind.
A mere chaos is the thing called Protestantism, dark
and void, and shapeless like the original nothing
from which the world was formed.

Wincylaid her head on her pillow that night in a
more desponding spirit than was usual with her.
She had prayed long and earnestly for the spiritual
and temporal welfare of her brother, yet peace did
not all at once descend on her troubled spirit. But

280

CON REI-AV ; OR,

ftnon came the recollection of the beauliful title:
Comfort of the afflicted, beatowed by the Church on
" Mary, the Mother of Jesus," and the thought was
aI^ oil to the troubled waters. Deep in her heart
she breathed the fweet prayer of St. Bernard, be-
ginning with the words, "Remember, oh most pious
and tender Virgin," and the prayer was hardly ended
when hope lok possession of Winny's soul, and
tranquil slum ber sealed her eyelids.

In the course of a few days Con O'Regan heard
that Andy's conjectures were right as regarded poor
Whelan's loss. The Savings Bank was found wholly
unable to resume payment, and how indeed could
it? its Directors and other officials had i/een for
years investing its capital in divers speculations on
their own separate accounts. Many o ' these Sj ;ti-
lations had been a dead failure ; the main ''apilai of
the Bank was swallowed up ; whispers \. gone
abroad a^ to bow the matter stood ; a run fu. iwed,
and then came out the terrible truth. Thonsands
of poor people, very many of them Irish trade-iraen
and small dealers, were left penniless — the savings
of years melted in a moment before their eyes into
thro air, and the cry of sorrow was heard in many a
home where peace and contentment had lately
reigned. But what could be done? How were
these poor deluded thousands to obtain redress ?
They were foreigners, very low down, indeed, in the
■oale of social importance, while the robbers, the
swindlers, were at its very summit. " Grave and

on,

f the beauliful title :
ed by the Church oa
and the thought was
Deep in her heart
of St. Bernard, be-
kember, oh most pious
ayer was hardly ended
)f Winny's soul, and
elids.

8 Con O'Regan heard
ight as regarded poor
Jank was found wholly
ad how indeed could
officials had <een for
Jivers speculations on
Many of these Sj u-
i ; the main caniial of
; whispers 1 gone
tood ; a run tu wed,
)le truth. Thousands
them Irish traduHraen
lennilcsB — the savings
before their eyes into
- was heard in many a
Lentment had lately
3 done? How were
8 to obtain redress?
V down, indeed, in the
bile the robbers, the
ummit. " Grave and

KMIGRANT MFE IN THB KIW WORLD.

281

reverend signori," mightily respected in the com-
munity, occupying high seats in their respective con*
venticles, and noted above all for theiv burnint^ zeal
for the conversion of Jews, Pagans, Romanist ind
all other such unrighteous folk. One of the Direc-
tors of the Bank, who was likewise one of the chief
defaulters, presided at a meeting of the Home and
Foreign Missionary Society on the very same even-
ing that saw his delinquency published in the ' ty
journals. But " Dallon was an honorable man," none
the less honorable for having made away with some
fifty thousand dollars or so, of Irish money. What
bad the Irish serfs to do but make money to do-
posit in Savings Banks for the furtherance of mer-
cantile enterprize in that great and flourishing city f
But the public were not nil of one mind on tUs
subject. Even in that Pharisaical nity, and amongst
its chief citizens, there were many ,. lo sympathized
deeply with the poor victims of this wholesale rob-
bery, and denounced with all their hearts the un-
feeling hypocrites who thus wasted the Hubstance of
the poor. Foremost amongst these was our worthy
frienu Mr. Coulter, ■\^ho keenly felt the disgrace
thus entailed on his whole class and on the city to
which they all belonged. It so happened that his
partner, Mr. Pims, was one of the Directors of the
Bank in question, and Mr. Coulter expressed his
opinion of the whole concern in no very flattering
terms. Entering the office one morning wi h a
" daily" in his hand, he accosted Pims aa follows :

282

COM o'heoan ; OR,

"I Bay, Pirns! were you at that meeting last

night?"

" What meeting ?' said the other, in affected sur-

prise.

" Why that meeting of the Home and Foreign
Missionary Society "" pointing, as he spoke, to the
printed account, headed in flourishing capitals.

" I was not," said Pirns; " I would have been, but
for Mrs. Pims's illness. She was pretty bad all the
evening."

" But I see Dutton was, if you were not," went on
Mr. Coulter. " He occupied the chair, it seems. I
shouldn't wonder if it blistered his nether end. Fitter
for him to have been at home hiding his dishonored
head. Well ' I would give a trifle to know now
what kind ol heart that man has got. As for reli-
gion, the lew said about that the better for all con-
cerned. But his heart— I should like to have it ana^
lyzed, for it strikes mo it can't be composed of flesh
and blood, like other hear ts— eh, Pims ? Good God '.'»
he 8udd«inly added, giving the other no time to an-
swer, '• what a monstrous anomaly ! A man presid-
ing at a meeting for the spread of the Gospel
amongst unbelievers, and himself just then caught iu
.ylhe act of violating both the spirit and the letter of
' that Gospel. Bah 1— how I loathe such hypocrites I
Convert the heathen, indeed! and tlie Jew— and thu
Papist !— why there's ne'er a one of them but may
be nearer salvation at this moment than that ' whitcd

'•iB;^

OR,

,t that meeting last

)ther, in affected sur-

Home and Foreign

as he spoke, to the

rishing capitals.

would have been, but

as pretty bad all the

>u were not," went on
he chair, it seems. I
his nether end. Fitter
liding his dishonored
, trifle to know now
las got. As for reli-
the better for all coa-
ixld like to have it anor
be composed of flesh
b, Pirns? Good God I"
! other no time to aii-
naly ! A man presid-
pread of the Gospel
ielf just then caught iu
spirit and the letter of
)athe such hypocrites 1
and the Jew — and tho
one of them but may
ment than that ' whited

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

I.I

16 3

!: m

*^ 140

IIIM
IM

12.0

1.8

1.25

1.4 III 1.6

Photographic

Sciences

Corporation

.O c<,

^£.^

ij.

"K^

-b

•SJ

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut canadien de microreproductions historiques

ESIIORANT l.in-. IN THE NEW WOUI.I).

283

lepulclire.' You're a precious fine set, Pims ! take
you altogether !"

"Why, really, Mr. Coulter!" said Pims, with a
sickly attempt at a smile, " I can«o« understand why
you are so severe on Dutlon. Surely it is not hia
fault if the affairs of the Bank have not prospered.
You wouldn't have him pay, out of his own pocket,
all these outrageous savages who are clamoring for
money — hovering in crowds around the door, like
crows watching for a carrion ? If you expect any
Buch thing, I wouldn't give much for your sense of
justice. For my part, Pd see the confounded rabble
in Jericho before P d even think of such a thing !"

"No doubt, Pims, no doubt!" said his partner,
with provoking coolness. " These poor people are a
confounded rabble, now that they begin to look for
their money. If you called fhem confounded fooh^
now, I wouldn't wonder, because if they were not
fools they would never have given you and Dulton
and Peterson and all the others the chance of feath
ering your nests at their expense. If they asked my
advice, they'd never invest one solitary cent in your
Savings Banks. Savings Banks, indeed! Losing
Banks would be the fitter name as regards the depo-
eilors ! Has Wood been here to-day yet ?"

Pims replied in the negative, and then sullenly
turned away, muttering something that was anything
but complimentary to his senior. The latter looked
after him with a comical expression on his bluff
features, then entered his own sanctum and carefully

284

CON o'REfiAN ; OR,

closed the door. He had a thorough contempt fof
the school to which both his partners belonged, and
it was seldom indeed that he attempted to conceal
his sentiments on that or any other subject. Dissi-
mulation in others was his special abhorrence, and
he never, on any account, practised it himseli'.

Could Mr. Coulter have traced the effects of this
Bank failure in their individual application, his
honest heart would have throbbed with still fiercer
indignation. As it was, he could have only a gen-
oral idea of the mournful consequences, but the
deeper and more harrowing scenes of mis«ry were
beyond the sphere of his calculations, and well for
him that it was so, since he had no means of remo-
dying those evils which he could only deplore.
Peter Whelau's case, however lamentable, was none
of the most deplorable. In one instance, it. was a
family of several young children, whose father lay
at the point of death. He had been a hard-work-
ing, industrious mechanic, and with the assistance
of his wife, who tooit in washing, he had scraped
together a matter of fifty dollars, which was now
gone— gone at the very moment when it was most
needed, when death was about to close a long and
tedious illness, during which the family had been
kept on the very shortest allowance of food, in
order to provide medical attendance and the little
comforts required for the sick, without drawhig on
the precious hoard in tho Bank. It was the dying
hasband'a constant injunotion to his wife to keep

; o«.

thoroagh contempt for
>artner8 belonged, and
3 attempted to conceal
other subject. Dissi-
ipecial abhorrence, and
ctised it himself,
aced the effects of this
idual application, his
obbed with still fiercer
could have only a gen-
consequences, but the
scenes of misery were
Iculations, and well for
had no means of rerae-
e could only deplore,
er lamentable, was none
one instance, it- was a
idren, whose father lay
I bad been a hard-work-
md with the assistance
ashing, he had scraped
dollars, which was now
iment when it was most
out to close a long and
oh the family had been
t allowance of food, in
ttendance and the little
iok, without drawing on
Bank. It was the dying
ion to his wife to keep

EUIORAS'T I.TFK IS THE NRW WORI.O.

285

that together as long as she could. " You'll want
it all by and by," he would say, " when you come
to bury me. It's not much, but still it's better than
nothing." Now the trying time was at hand — the
funeral expenses were coming on — a trifle, too, to
be paid to the doctor, and the//i!y dollars— ihe sole
hope of the family — was lost forever. Oh ! the
misery of that hour I But the prudent wife kept
the terrible secret — she knew it would, in all pro-
bability, have been instant death to her husband to
hear that she was left penniless at such a time, and
EO he died in blissful ignorance, commending his
family to the protection of God and ♦he Blessed
Virgin, and as the heart-broken wid^w closed his
sunken eyes, she breathed her fervent thanks to
God that poor Jerry died without that heavy blow.
"He had enough to bear without it," said she,
" may the Lord be good and mhrciful to his soul I'
She had no time for indulging the grief which filled
her heart, for she had to consider about getting her
husband decently buried. How was it to be done,
for she hadn't quite a dollar in the house? But
something must be done ; so she went to a few of
her wealthiest acquaintances, told them her mourn-
ful story, and asked them to advance the sum which
she required on sundry little articles of her house-
hold furniture. This they all refused, chiding her
for thinking of any Buoh thing, but they went to
work, two or three of them, and made up what
buried Jerry decently, and left a surplus of some

S86

CON o'regan ; OR,

dollars in the poor widow's hands. Many a curse
was heaped that d«y ou the heads of the Bank Di-
rectors as the story flew from mouth to mouth.

This was but one of the many distressing scenes
which resulted then and afterwards from this atro-
cious robbery, and what wonder was it that the
whole city rang with clamorous comptsiints and
vehement appeals for justice ? But vain were cries,
and prayers, and tears. The money was not to bo
had— the Directors would hardly condescend to
show how it went, or what prospect there was of
any portion of it being refunded, and after a while
the public mind forgot all about it in the excitement
of some new topic. But long, long was it remem-
bered by those to whom it brought ruin, in many
oases destitution. Many an aching heart and many
a cheerless home recorded the event for years to
nome, while the hypocrites who had thus taken
from the fatherless and the widow, and squandered
the hard earnings of the poor, ascended higher and
higher on the social ladder, untroubled with any
qualms of conscience, and quite willing to take
charge of other Savings Banks, provided they could
•' get appointed."

There was, then, no chance of Peter Whelan re-
covering anything from the Bank, so that ho was
forced to give up the notion of emigrating. " But
111 not give it up altogether," said he to Andy
Dwyer, a week or two before the time fixed for Con
and the Bergens to start ; " oh no ! I'll always have

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE i» {W WORLD.

281

ln ; OR,

's bands. Many a curse
le beads of tbe Bank Di-
om mouth to mouth.
I many distieasing scenes
Fierwards from this atro-
wonder was it that tho
imorous complaints and
!e ? But vain were cries,
ho money was not to bo
i hardly condescend to
t prospect there was of
unded, and after a while
ibout it in the excitement
long, long was it remem-
it brought ruin, in many
n aching heart and many
d the event for j-cars to
,es who had thus taken
i widow, and squandered
oor, ascended higher and
ler, untroubled with any
d quite willing to take
inks, provided they could

moe of Peter Whelan re-
he Bank, so that ho was
ion of emigrating. " But
Bther," said he to Andy
ore the time fixed for Con
** oh no ! I'll always have

the hope In my mind that Qnd will one day give me
the means of going. If wo get anything from that
villajnous Bank, well and good, but if we don't, sure
Mary and myself must only begin the world again,
and if the Lord spares us our health, maybe we
won't be off in search of land — maybe wo won't I"

" I suppose you'll hardly put any more money in
Savings Banks, anyhow," observed Andy, with a
quiet smile. " A burnt child dreads the fire, they
say.'"

" Is it me ?' cried Peter, " me put money again ia
one of them blackguard nests of robbery ! Ah ! if
they never get anybody's cash into their clutches till
they get mine, they may live to the age of Mathuse-
lem. If I ever get a little scraped together again,
I'd sooaet" throw it in the fire than invest it in Banks
— invest, indeed !— to the devil I pitch such invest-
ments ! But, after all. It's a folly to talk. I'll only
have to look sharp for the time to come."

Meanwhile Paul Bergen and his wife had duly re-
ceived the long-looked'for letter from Felix, contain-
ing a draft on one of t ■- City Banks for one hun-
dred and fifty dollars. "I would have sent you
more," said Felix, in the letter, '* but that Judy and
myself thought it best only to send what would just
be enough to take you all out. You'll find all things
provided here when you come — at least, you'll have
your farm ready for the spade and the plough, and
our house will be yours till you can get one up for
yourself. Judy and me are ever so glad to hear of tha

188

COM O'RiaAK J OB,

fine family you have, may the Lord spare them all to
be a comfort to you in your old days ! They'll havo
a good chance out here. We're all well pleased that
there's some more coming with you. There's room
enough here and to spare, and you know the old
saying, ' The more the merrier.' You want to know
if we have a priest living here, and I wish I could
Bay ' Yes.' As yet we have only Mass once in every
two weeks or so, when a priest from the next mis-
sion comes here. We have a little Church that we
put up a couple of years ago, and when we get able
to raise a better and larger one, this will do us for a
Bchoolhouse. As yet we have no schoolmaster, but
Father Doran says he has one in view for us, if he
can only find him out in time. He's going to adver-
tise him in the papers, for he knows he's somewhere
in the New England States. This will be good
news for you that has a family growing up. When
we have a good priest and a good gohoolmaster, we'll
have all we want. Make haste now, all of you. Bo
alive, and have your wits about you on the road, and
don't let the sharks get the better of you." Felix
then went on to give the necessary instructions as
to the route to be taken and other matters of that
kind. Felii'was a travelled man, and prided him-
self no little on his practical knowledge of the
country.

All was now joyous bustle in the house of Paul
Bergen. Nora began to hold up her head already in
an independent manner, as became the wife of a

U
tl

fo
B
te
h<

g<
ar
P

P'
n(

N
it'i
a
yo

it
ho

ge
de
fill
fri
dr
be

OR,

Lord spare them all to
J days ! They'll havo
re all well pleased that
h you. There's room
id you know the old
,' You want to know
e, and I wish I could
ily Mass once in every
8t from the next mis-
little Church that we
and when we get able
le, this will do ua for a
e no schoolmaster, but
e in view for us, if he
He's going to adver-
kaows he's somewhere
I. This will be good
y growing up. When
ood eohoolmaster, we'll
tenow, all ofyou. Bo
ut you on the road, and
better of you." Felix
oessary instructions as
. other matters of that
man, and prided him-
cal knowledge of the

e in the house of Paul

I np her head already in

became the wife of a

KMIORANT LIFE IN THE MBW WORLD.

landed proprietor— that was to be. There were fifty-
things to be bought and got ready for the journey,
and amongst the rest there were pairs upon pairs of
socks and stockings to be knitted. This was a job
for Peggy Daly, whom Winny introduced to Mrs.
Bergen for that purpose. During the frequent in-
tercourse that grow out of this connection, the wari^
hearted Nora became strongly attached to the blind
girl, and was often heard to say that " she'd give
anythi.ng at all to have her with her." Even to
Peggy herself this kindly wish was not seldom ex-
pressed, but Peggy would only smile and say : " It's
not my luck, Mrs. Bergen, dear ! I must stay where
I am, unless God brings about some great change."

" Well, dear, I'm sorry for it. Indeed I am," said
Nora, " but," she added, on one occasion, " of coorse,
it's natural for you to stick by your own. It 'id be
a lonesome thing for yon to part with all the sister
yon have."

" It would," said Peggy, "but still I could do it if
it was the will of God. I'd leave her an' hers in His
holy keepin'. But to tell you the truth, Mrs. Ber-
gen," — she hesitated, and her changing dolor plainly
denoted the struggle going on within. Her little
fingers played unconsciously, as it were, with the
fringe of her coarse woollen shawl, and her eyelids
drooped as though the orbs they covered conld hav«
betrayed her emotion.

" What were you goin' to say, alanna ?" at Irngtb

/ *

190

CON o'bkoan ; OB,

««I was, ma'am." The fingers moved faster ye
and more tremulously, and the color on the soft
cheek deepened to a carnation hue. " There a
another person, Mrs. Bergen! a friend of ours that s
taken up entirely with bad company, an' I'm afeiird
he'd go to the mischief altogether if there wasin t
somebody to give him a good advice an' look alter
him now an' then. He's mighty foolish for himeelf,
Mrs. Bergen ! but he has a good heart— indeed he
has, ma'am, an' somehow he listens to a word from
me when he wouldn't listen to any one else. Him
an' me were to have been married oust, but it plased
the Lord to take the sight from me, and from that
out I made up my mind never to marry him or any

one else." ' ,

Mrs. Bergen could hardly speak. The tears stood
in her eyes, and taking hold of Peggy'a hand, she
squeezed it hard between her own. " Poor young
crature," she at length murmured, " you have a hard

cross to bear." .

"Oh! not so heavy after all!" said Peggy, with
somewhat more cheerfulness, encouraged by the
tender sympathy of the other. " If I have my trials,
I have my comforts, too. Sometimes I get poor
Tom to keep from drink for weeks at a time, an'
now and then I get him to go to an early Mass.
Well 1 there's no knowin', ma'am, what tJuU m&y save
h m from, for you know there's nothing draws down
such a curse on mau c- mortal- as neglectin' to hear
Mass on Sunday. So you see, dark an' all as I am,

kv ; OR,

fingers moved faster ye
id the color on the soft
rnation hue. " There's
an ! a friend of ours that's
1 company, an' I'm afeiird
iltogelher if there waim't
rood advice an' look aiTter
aighty foolish for bimrelf,
a good heart— indeed he
le listens to a word from
on to any one else. Him
married onst, but it phised
[it from me, and from ihat
ever to marry him or any

Uy speak. The tears stood
hold of Peggy's h&nd, she
n her own. " Poor young
urmured, " you have a hard

Ler all!" said Peggy, with
iloess, encouraged by the
ther. "Ifl have my trials,
,o. Sometimes I get poor
k for weeks at a time, an'
m to go to an early Mass.
', ma'am, what that may save
there's nothing draws down
mortal- as neglectin' to hear
ou see, dark an' all »& I am,

KMIORAN'T lAfZ IN THE NBW WORLD.

29t

r can do some good, an' that its«lf is a great com-
fort to me."

" Well ! the Lord bless you, anyhow, poor girl !"
said Mrs. Bergen, warmly, as she shook Peggy's
hand. Peggy returned the pressure and the bless-
ing, then she called her young guide and told him to
take her homo now.

CON o'RROAM !

CHAPTER XVII.

THKfew remaining weeks past away all too qaick-
ly,_at least so Winny thought,-and the eve of the
day fixed on for " the start" at length arrived. Paul
Bergen had sold off his effects to better advantage
than he expected, and as he and Nora stood towards
evening on the door of their late subterraneous
dwelling and surveyed its naked walls now seen in
the extreme narrowness of their dimensions, a sim-
nltaneous feeling of gratitude swelled ^b-r hearts as
they thought of the broad open prair.e which Felix
had described as the location of their new home

"Aren't we blest and happy, Nora dear," re-
tnarked Paul. " to get away out into tbe open coun-
try again ?-sure enough it was a poor place this to
live in-shut up between these four walls, down ever
BO far under the ground 1 I tell you it was wel for
us that Felix made his way out where he did, or a
what we'd have to live and die, and bnng up the
children here where neither sun norair got in to us^
"True for you, Paul," returned Nora, thought-
f«Uy "M-e have every reason to hold up our hand.

t
1
I
a

h
b
n

f(
k
n(

BS
Pl

ui
sa

b(
Be
fo

kil

iai

«MI(3RANT MFK IN TUB N«W WOULD.

293

R XVII.

s past away all too quick-
uglit,— and the eve of the
" at length arrived. Paul
rects to better advantage
J and Nora stood towarda
their late subterraneous
1 naked walls now seen in
r their dimensions, a sim-
ide swelled their hearts as
. open prairie which Felix
ion of their new home.

happy, Nora dear," re-
ly out into the open coun-
it was a poor place this to
these four walls, down ever

I tell you it was well for
ly out where he did, or it's
and die, and bring up the
er sun nor air got m to us."
' returned Nora, thought-
ison to hold up our hands

and thank Qod.when we think of the thousands and
thousands in this very city that can't budge from
where they are, but must take everything as it
comes. But aren't we goin' where I was saying.
Paul?" ^ ^'

Paul willingly assented, and both glancing round
to see that nothing was left behind, they hastily
quitted the cellar, Paul looking the door with the in-
tention of giving up the key to "the landlord," who
lived in one of the upper stories of the same house.
He and Nora then walked away at a quick pace in
an opposite direction. Their children were all safely
housed in Andy Dwyer's snug kitchen, Andy and
his good partner having kindly insisted on their aH
naaking that tlieir home after '^ the auction" till such
times as they'd be ready to start."

Con O'Regan, too, had to take his luggage there,
for as the whole party was to set out before daylight
m the morning, Andy would have it that there was
no use in disturbing two houses. And besides, he
said, " I want you all to start from here— that's the
plain truth, if you must have it. It may be the last
night we'll ever spend together, and we have a thou-
sand things to talk about. So, Cornelius, get your
box down here as fast as you can, and, Alice dear,
see that you have something nice and comfortable
for supper." Mrs. Dwyer answered that she'd do
what she could, and Con, fully appreciating Andy'a
kindness, declared himself quite willing to accept tbd
bvitation.

coH o'hkgan ; OH,

"The only thing is," said he, "that Winny won't
know where to find me."

" Oh! never you m-in . that," was Andy's prompt
reply, " we'll Bee that sne does know, and I think I
may undertake to promise that you'll find her hero
when you come back. Be oflf now, as fast as ever

you can !"

« I will, then," said Con; " for I have to go and
see Mr. Coulter. I want to bid him farewell." So
saying. Con hurried away, his mind full of conflict-
ing emotions. When he returned he found Winny
before him just as Andy had predicted.

" Why, Winny dear," said her brother, "I hardly
expected to see you here. I was thiukia' I'd have
to go up to the house."

"See me, indeed!" repeated Winny, with her sad
smile ; " I can te'.l you you were near seeing Letty,
too. She wanted to come right or wrong, only by
good luck I got her persuaded that it wouldn't be
right for us both to leave the house at once, for fear
the ladies might be wanting something."

"The Lord be praised 1" said Con, fervently,
«' she's a good creature in her own way, but her ab-
senoe is a cordial at the present time. She'd pesf^r
the life out of us with her good-natured talk."

Andy now inquired if Con had seen Mr. Coulter,
and was answered with a sorrowful shake of the

bead.
" Is it possible that you didn't Be» him ?'* cried

Wiw'vy.

3
\?
t(
tl
ei

P<
d(

■W(

he
Tt
Mi
los
ing
no]
sail

•28

; OR,
he, " that Winny won't

It," was Andy's prompl
jes know, and I think I
hat you'll find her hero
off now, as fast as ever

" for I have to go and
bid him farewell." So
lis mind full of conflict-
turned he found Winny
J predicted.

a her brother, " I hardly
I was thiukin' I'd have

;ed Winny, with her sad
were near seeing Letty,
right or wrong, only by
ided that it wouldn't be
tie house at once, for fear
5 something."
I" said Con, fervently,
ler own way, but her ab-
jsent time. She'd pest'^r
^ood-natured talk."
on had seen Mr. Coulter,
sorrowful shake of the

1 didn't Be» him f" oried

BMIOHANT LIFE IN THK NEW WORLD. 295

M good as an hour, an' couldn't get my eves on him
nor none of them could tell L TheT he taT

b':^:vil,o'r^"'^^""^'^^'^-''«--^'^'^i-

Th,. ' u i ^''^ '*"'' g^ "^^^"^ seeing him
That's all You^il just have to go to the house thTs

Just then Paul Bergen and Nora came in and
Mrs. D wyer was about to ask where they hai Ven
when her husband checked her by a look 17 '
too. did Winny, .ho laid her Jl Ll^t^^J/:;

prrboyl'gtv'^r'""^^^^"^*'-'-^' *o '^-
"Ah! then sure enough, but that's where the*
^ere I-wasn't I blind not to see it ? B^t then 1?
head was runnin' on these cakes I havel th oy^
They re not nsin' as well as I'd wish." And good

it? -yr; ^''^"T.'^^ ^-'^ <*-•' -« o.ce more
lost m her fears and hopes concerning the interest-
-g edibles on which she had spared nlth r "ible
nor expense. "Botheration to them for oak s "'
said she to herself, "P,, go bail it's what they'll go
•Sam me. now when a body would wish to hafc

296

CON o'rkoan ; OR,

them the very best. Well! welll" Bho pbiloBophi.
cally added, " sure isn't it the way of the world ?
It's ever an' always when we want to have a thing
right, that it'll be sure to go wrong !"

Although Mrs. Dwyer was so dissatisfied with the
result of her culinary labors, the cakes were pro-
nounced excellent by all who had the rare pleasure
of tasting them, and, on the whole, the supper passed
off very creditably to her and very agreeably to her
guests. "The cup that cheers, but not inebriates,"
■went freely round, and inspired by its fragrant
aroma, the women were all in high spirits, and chat-
ted away pleasantly, while the men talked over the
great business in hand. Andy was rather more ora-
cular than usual, interlarding his discourse with some
half dozen Latin proverbs, to the great edification
and instruction of his less learned friends. Above
all things he begged of Con and Paul to send him
back word from time to time touching the true state
of the country.

" It migJit please God," he swd, "that I'd have the
means of going after you, some time or another, and,
as I wouldn't wish to do anything rash, I'd like to
know exactly what kind of a place it is. I'll depend
on you both to give me a full and true account."

The required promise was cheerfully given, and
Andy had only time to nod his head and say, " very
good '.—that will do 1" when the door opened and
give admission to the whole household of Barney
Bndy, from Barney himself down to little Betsoy,

w
P

le
al
th

wi
Al

"i
ha
Al
an
yo
he
inj

np
oc
pa
ed
rei

d ; OR,

well!" Bho philosophi-
the way of the world ?
re want to have a thing
) wrong !"

,8 80 disBatisGed with the
rs, the cakes were pro-
10 had the rare pleasure
whole, the supper passed
lid very agreeably to her
jers, but not inebriates,"
nspired by its fragrant
in high spirits, and chat-

the men talked over the
ndy was rather more ora-
g his disoourse with some
, to the great edification
learned friends. Above
»n and Panl to send him
ae touching the true state

le said, " that I'd have the
(ome time or another, and,
anything rash, I'd like to
a place it is. I'll depend
full and true account."
(vas cheerfully given, and
d his head and say, " very
hen the door opened and
lole household of Barney
Blf down to little Betsey,

KMIORAXT MFE IN THE NKW WORLD. £91

whom he carried in his arms. Tom Derragh and
Peggy brought up the rear, the latter holding
Johnny by the hand. The boy was so accustomed to
lead bis aunt that he would not forego that privilege,
although the office was a sinecure on that occasion,
thanks to the brawny arm which supported Peggy
on the other side. The new arrivals were hailed
with a burst of joyous welcome, and the two children
were speedily conveyed into a corner by Janie and
Patsey Bergen. This move elicited an approving
nod from Barney,

" That's right, Janie," said he, " we just took them
with us that you'd be all together this last night.
An' besides," he added, looking round to the elders,
" if we hadn't brought them along, somebody must
have staid with th^m, and that would never do, for
Anty wanted to come, and Peggy wanted to come,
and myself and Tom are only poor hands at nursing,
you may be sure, so use wouldn't stay behind, and
here we are, you see — bag and baggage, as the say-
ing is."

"And you're all heartily welcome," said Mrs.
Dwycr ; " sit over here to the table and have a cup
of tea."

This oflfer was declined, for they had all "just got
up from the table as they came out, so they had no
occasion in life." The supper was then quickly dis-
patched, and the relics of the feast being duly dear-
ed away, conversation, or rather chat, went on with
renewed animation. Winny and Con were seated

fsa

CON REGAN ; OR,

together in a corner of the kitchen arranging their
little plans for the uncertain period of time which
was to elapse before they met again. Many things
were still to be talked over, but Winny suddenly
stopped and reminded her brother that he had bet-
ter go off at once to Mr. Coulter's, before it got any
later. " Ah ! then, sure enough, Winny, it's time I
wasn't here," observed Con, rising and reaching for
his hat, at the same time informing Andy of where
he was going.

" Oh, well ! you mnstnH go alone," said Andy, ris-
ing, too ; " we'll not be long away, Bernard, so I'll
leave you all to entertain each other for a little
while."

Con protested against Andy's going with him, but
it waa no use, go Andy would, apd they both reach-
ed the door, when a gentle tap was heard on the out-
side, and the door being opened, in walked Mr.
Coulter himself, his honest, cheerful face all in a
glow after his long walk in the cool, fresh air of the
spring evening.

•' Where are yon bound for, Con ?" was his first
salutation, as the young man stepped back respect-
fully to make way for him.

" Indeed, then, I was just goin' down to your
house, sir, as I couldn't see you all day."

" Well ! you see I have saved you that trouble.
I beard yon had been wanting to see me, and )
thought yon might hardly find time to call again."
This wu said with a smile, for Mr. Coulter knew

si
e

tl
n
m
II

T
T

01
C(

b<
B

P
k!

AN ; OR,

3 kitchen arranging their
ain period of lime »vhich
met again. Many things
rer, but Winny suddenly
brother that he had bet-
'oulter's, before it got any
aough, Winny, it's time I
D, rising and reaching for
nforming Andy of where

go alone," said Andy, ri's-
>ug away, Bernard, so I'll
a each other for a little

.ndy's going with him, bat
>uld, apd they both reach-
tap was heard on the out-
; opened, in walked Mr.
St, cheerful face all in a
1 the cool, fresh air of the

[ for, Con ?" was his first
lan stepped back respect-

ust goin' down to your
9 you all day."
) saved you that trouble,
anting to see me, and 1
r find time to call again."
ile, for Mr. Coulter knew

KMIGRAVT MFE IN THE NEW WOBt.D,

29»

"ery well that Con would have found time. Glano<
:ng his quick eye round, the old gentleman was not
slow in perceiving Winny, who had stood up at hi3
entrance, aa did all the others. Nodding kindly to
Winny, Mr, Coulter said, with the suavity of a true
gentleman :

"Sit down, my good people, sit down! Pray
don't disturb yourselves on my account."

The seats being ail resumed, and the children
thrust away into holes and corners, "for fear of an-
noying the gentleman," Mr. Coulter turned onco
more to Con : " And so. Con, you propose to start
in the morning, don't your"

" With God's help, I do, sir, thanks to yoa and
the ladies."

" To me and the ladies. Con !" repeated Mr. Coul-
ter, facetiously ; " oh ! if the ladies have a hand in
your undertaking there is no fear of its failure.
The ladies have unlimited power in this world of
ours. We have heard of all power being given to
certain parties in times past, but I think there must
be some mistake in the record, though it be the
Bible. It is certainly the ladies who have * all
power' now-a-days — at least, if they have not, I
know not who has."

The irreverence of this speech was overlooked
by the company, who had far too much respect for
the speaker to criticize his words even in thought.
Andy alone took upon him to reply :

>'•■ By dad, sir, they have made a great atir ;a the

800

CON o'regan ; on,

world ever since it was a world. From iTte down
to Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, that tiirnec' the head
of the renowned Mark Antony, and 'rora her to
Queen Elizabeth, the pet daughter of Harry the
Eighth, and a great pillar of the lleformation, the
ladies have played the mischief with the poor nouns
masculine. Helen of Troy r^sed a dust that didn't
settle again for ten lonpr i ears, and ir Ireland we
had a sister of hers, \r name Dervorghal, who
wasn't a bit better thv jlxe should be, the thief of
the world."

Andy paused fVom sheer want of breath, and
Mr. Coulter politely assented, regarding his new
acquaintance with some degree of interest as a
specimen of original character.

" You are quite right, Mr. — — ," said he, hesitat-
ing; " Mr. — — , ah! — excuse me — I have forgotten
your name."

" My name is Dwyer, sir, at your service I— An-
drew Dwyer !" and Andy bowed very low, by way
of showing bis manners. The name was all that
Mr. Coulter wanted, as he meant to cultivate Andy's
acquaintance a little farther.

•' And so this is a farewell party," observed Mr
Coulter, glancing once more over the company;
" are all these friends of yours bound for the West,

Con ?"

" Oh no, sir, there's only myself and Paul Bergen
Bnd his family," pointing them out in succession ,
H none of the others arc able to go, though it istft

N ; OR,

'orld. From 1^1*^ down
pt, that turner' the head
ntony, and ivora her to
daughter of Harry the
of the lleformation, the
bief with the poor nouns
rvised a dust that didn't
I ears, and ir Ireland wo
name Dervorghal, who
J should be, the thief of

Bf want of breath, and

ited, regarding his new

degree of interest as a

Bter.

r. — — ," said he, hesitat-

ise me — -I have forgotten

r, at your service I — An-
bowed very low, by way
The name was all that
neant to oullivate Andy's
r.

■ell party," observed Mr
aore over the company ;
ours bound for the West,

f myself and Paul Bergen
them ont in succession ,
ble to go, though it isn^t

2MI0RAKT UFR IN THE NBW WORLO.

doc

their hearts would hinder them, if they had the
means."

" Indeed !" said the old gentleman, thoughtfully ;
" why, I think you told me there were several fami-
lies to go with you."

" Well ! so we thought then, sir, but when all
oaovo to all there could none of them go except us.
There was Peter Whelan thought he had nothing
to do but ' bundle and go,' but the Savings Bank
settled Jam, and left him that he couldn't go any-
where at the present time. Then there was Philip
Quigley had a little money by him, and thought as
he was a lone man, it would be enough to take him,
and, what do you think, Mr. Coulter, but a couple
of nights ago, the house he boarded in took fire, and
poor Philip lost every cent he had. Another man
took sick some weeks ago, and had to go to hospi-
tal, and between his own little expenses there and
the support of his family, there's a big hole made in
the money. So that's the way of it, sir, and a poor
way it is, too."

" And this fine young fellow here ?" inquired Mr.
Coulter, pointing to Tom Derr^h. "Is not he
going?"

Con only smiled and shook his head, but Tom
bluntly- answered: "No, sir, I a'nt a-going. I'm
sorry for it, but it can't be helped. People can't
fit/ to the West or anywhere else, I reckon."

'* Certainly not, young man, a little money is re-
quired for that, like most other things; but surely

802

CON o'beoan ; OH,

you ought to have tome money. How long havft
you been in this country ?"

"Ten years or bo," was the dogged reply.

"Teu years!" repeated Mr. Coulter, in a tone nf
Burprise. "And you have no family, have you ?"

" Well no — I ha'nt — but to tell you the truth, sir,
I never could get money to stick to mo. It wnt
as fast as it came. I was always a graceleea lubber,
good for nothing but spending money. Drunk and
Bober — drank and sober — that's the way it is with
me, and so it'll be to the end of the chapter. So
there's an end of it."

Peggy could not stand this. Forgetful for a mo-
ment of the respected presence of that kind Mr.
Coulter, of whom she had heard so much, the poor
girl could not allow Tom to blacken his own repu-
tation in that way. She could abuse him herself at
times, but she could never hear him abused by ano-
ther without taking up his defence warmly.

" Ah ! then, never mind him, sir," she cried in a
vehement tone, " he's not half so bad as he'd make
himself out. Indeed he's not, sir. Many a good
dollar of Lis earniu' goes in charity, an' I know he
gave as good as a hundred dollars to doctors, one
■way an' another, tryin' to get somebody cured of
what's never to be cured in this world. He's a little
wild, now an' then, sir, but he works hard when
he's at his work, an' nobody could ever say that he
Bf eut what wasn't his own."

Poor Peggy's burst of exoitement was now over

■--"^ ,'-.ji-'.ies^i«(i^K^s*»w«i->ii«KwrFww««i'&*i-

f ; o«,

loney. How long hav*

le dogged reply.
Ir. Coulter, in a tone nf
10 family, have you ?"
.0 tell you the truth, sir,
1 stick to me. It w«nt
ways a gracele«8 lubber,
ing money. Drunk and
hat's the way it is with
!nd of the chapter. So

is. Forgetful for a mo-

jence of that kind Mr.

leard so much, the poor

o blacken his own repu-

uld abuse him herself at

lear him abused by ano-

lefenoe warmly.

him, sir," she cHed in a

alf so bad as he'd make

not, sir. Many a good

a charity, an' I know he

dollars to doctors, one

get somebody cured of

this world. He's a little

t he works hard when

f could ever say that he
»

:citement was now over

EUIORANT LIFK IN THE NEW WORLD.

80&

and she felt as though she could sink into the
ground as she thougiit of who it was that she had
been addressing, and addressing, too, on behalf of
Tom Derragh. Tears of shame and vexation filled
her sightless eyes, and she drew back instinctively
from the table, as though that move could screen
her from observation. Tom would have taken her
hand, but she drew it away with a muttered "let
me alone, will you?" As for Mr. Coulter, he sat
looking at the mobile and most expressive features
of the blind girl with mingled pity and admiration.
He saw her truly feminine distress and was far too
delicate to increase it by even a word. Turning to
Con, he renewed his conversation with him, as
though nothing had happened to break in upon it,
although ho still cast an occasional glance on
Peggy, who sat silent and pensive a little behind
the others.

"Do you expect to be located near your friend
Bergen here?" said Mr. Coulter to Con.

" Well, I hope so, sir ! His brother Felix — that's
him that sent for him — has taken it in hands to get
land for me, too, so it's likely he'll try and get it all
together, if he can at all."

" What family has Paul Bergen ?"

"He has only four children now, sir. He had
another fine boy as you'd see in a day's walkin', but
he was killed in the forepart of the winter by an
unlucky blow of a stone from another little fellow
•boat his own age."

CON o'kboan ; OB,

"Dreadful! dreadful!" said Mr. Coalter; "what
•D overwhelming shock that must have been to the
poor parents I"

"Well! it was, sir!" said Paul, who had over-
heard what passed ; " it was a great heart-break en-
tirely, but, of course, we had to get ovar it the best
way we could. There was no use flyin' in the face
of God about that or anything else. It was His will.
or it wouldn't come across us."

Mr. Coulter said it was very tru?, but in his heart
ho wondered at the strong faith which sustained
these poor people in all trials, even the heaviest and
mo&t aiUicting.

" If Peter had only died a natural death, sir," swd
Nora, breaking silence for the first time, " I thitik we
wouldn't have grieved as we did after him, for there's
no knowin' what was before him if he had lived.
Maybe it's what God was good to us in takin' him
when he did, though, God help ua ! we couldn't think
80 at the time. Patseyl you villain! what's that
you're doin'?" Her quick eye had detected tlia
elder hope of hor house in the stealthy abstraction
of some choice morsel from Mrs. Dvvyer's cup-
board.

A general laugh followed, in the midst of which
Patsey squatted on his seat and slily closed the cup-
board, looking as innocent and demure as though
nothing had happened. His mother, unwilling to
disturb the company, especially as Mr. Coulter was
present, contented herself with shaking her fist at the

OR,

BMIORANT I.IFR IS TlUt NlfT WORLD.

305

Mr. Coulter; "what
lUHt have been to the

Paul, who had over-
great heart-break en-
,0 get ov3r it the best
< use flyin' in the face

elee. It was His will

' tru?, but in his heart
faith which sustained
even the heaviest and

atural death, sir," s'^id
[irst time, " I think we
d after him, for there's
him if he had lived,
d to us in takin' him
ua! we couldn't think
I villain! what's that
ye had detected tlia
e stealthy abstraction
I Mrs. Dvvyer's cup-

n the midst of which
d slily closed the cup-
id demure as though
mother, unwilling to
ly as Mr. Coulter was
shaking her fist at the

ealprit, who thereupon looked very sullen and very
indignant.

" I perceive that boy has a will of his own,'' ob-
served Mr. Coulter.

" Ah, then, faix, he has so, sir," said the father, half
proudly, half excusingly ; " he's been amongst Yan-
kee children so long that he begins to think himself
a man already." Here a look from I7or« reminded
Paul that he had made a great blunder. Ho colored
deeply, coughed once or twice, and cleared his throat
vigorously. " I meant to say, sir," he began, •' that
poor Patsey has got some Yankee notions of inde-
pendence into his head, and thinks himself as good
any day he rises as his Irish father or mother. That's
not the way in the old country, sir I The father is
the master there as long as he lives, and the mother,
too, for that matter."

Mr. Coulter laughed good humoredly. " I know,'»
said he, "that you Irish have a high notion of
parental authority, but don't you think you stretch
it too far at times ? Are you not too hard on the
youngsters now and then?"

" Oh I begorra, we're not, sir !" said Paul, in a very
decided tone; "if we don't keep them down when
they're weak an' young, they'll keep its down when
they're big an' strong, an' us feeble an' old. Oh, bc-
dad. Mr. Coulter, there's nothing like the rod if yon
want to make good children au' have them grow up
good men an' women."

M«

CON o'reoan ; OR,

" Yes," said Andy, " there's no going beyond that,
for the Holy Ghost tells us the same thing."

" The Holy Ghost !" repeated Mr. Coulter, in un-
qualified amazement ; " were you ever talking to him,
friend ?"

'• Oh ! of course I wasn't, sir, but He says ii v\ tbo
Scripture, and that's all the same you know ' ' Ho
that bateth bis child sparetb the rod.' At home ia
Ireland, sir "

Mr. Coulter stopped bim short with " What do
you know of the Scriptures at home in Ireland ?"

*' Oh ! as to that," said Andy, with his grave smile,
" it's not the fashion there to talk of it much — that's
of the Scripture — but the people are taught to act
on it. That's what makes all the difference between
us and our neighbors, that they have it forever on
their lips, but we have it in onr hearts. And good
reason why we should, for don't we hear it read and
explained to us from onr infancy up I"

" Humph !' said Mr. Coulter, " that's something
new to me."

" That may be, sir, for it's new to many a one in
these parts, bat it's nothing new to us. I'd baok
old Father Henoessy, the Lord be good to him ! —
that was our old parish priest, sir, when I was a slip
of a boy — again any preacher in this city for ex-
pounding the sacred text, and more shame for him
if be hadn't it all at his finger-enda — that's the Bible,
air — when he wa" "Professor of Scripture for as good
as nine years iu '. < Mob Oollege in Paris. It ^m

m: o«.

KMIORiNT Lire IN THE NBW WORLD.

80T

i'g no going bejond that,
the same thing."
sated Mr. Coulter, in un-
i you ever talking to him,

jiir, but He says ii n tbo
e same you knonr* 'He

b the rod.' At home iu

1 short with " What do
at home in Ireland ?"
idy, with his grave smile,
;o talk of it much — that's
people are taught to act
ill the difference between
they have it forever on
1 onr hearts. And good
don't we hear it read and
ifanoy up 1"
ulter, " that's something

.'s new to many a one in
Qg new to us. I'd back
Lord be good to him ! —
38t, sir, when I was a slip
3her in this city for ex-
and more shamo for him
er-ends — that's the Bible,
r of Scripture for as good
College in Paris. It ^m

from him I learned most of what I know," continued
An'ly, with deep feeling, "and especially what lillla
Scripture I have. May the Lord clothe his soul in
^lory this nij»ht, for he was like a father to me, and
It wasn't his fault but that I'm a priest myself at this
present hourr."

The pious aspiration dictated by Andy's gratitude
was fervently responded to by a simultaneous
" Amen !" from all present, with the exception of
Mr. Coulter, who respected the feeling which he
could not understand. After a momentary silence,
he abruptly said " good night !" and kindly shaking
hands with Winny, then with Paul aud his wife, to
whom he wished a safe and pleasant journey, he re-
quested Con to go with him a little way on his return
home, as he wanted to speak to him in private.
Con was on bis feet in an instant, hat in hand.

" Good night, Mr. Dwyer," said the kind old gen-
tleman, taming to that important personage ; " as
you are not leaving the city just now we shall meet
again — at least I hope so."

When they had got a little way from the house,
Mr. Coulter asked Con who and what the blind girl
was, and how she was connected with that wild, dis-
sipated-looking young man, in whom she seemed to
take such interest.

Having heard all that Con knew on the subject,
Mr. Coulter remarked that there was something
past the common in that girl, and that it was a
great pity to see her so wrapped up in a fellow who

808

CON RK6AN ; OR,

coald hardly understand the valae of Buoh a heari
as here.

" Well I I don't know as to that, sir," observed
Oon ; " poor Tom seems to think a power of Peggy,
and they say her word is l»w with him. They'd be
married long ago only that Peggy won't trust him
on account of the drink. And no wonder she
wouldn't, for he's hardly ever a week at a time to
say right sober."

•' Has the girl been always blind ?"

" Oh dear, no, sir ! I have it from her own bro-
ther-in-law, that Barney Brady that you saw there
to-night, that it was mindtn' Tom in a long sickness
he had in his house, that she got the cold that settled
in her eyes and took the sight from her. She was a '
clean, likely little girl before that as you'd wish to
see — so they tell me."

" I can well believe th«.t," said Mr. Coulter, " for
even now she is remarkably pretty. What a touch-
ing page of lowly life," he thought, " is here opened
to our view ! Truly has it been said that truth is
stranger th<^n fiction. But what a people are these
Irish I— -how inadequate are others to judge them
y or to form an estimate of the deep and earnest feel-
ings which lie hidden in their hearts, often beneath
a rough, unpromising exterior I"

" Do you know," he said to Con, "if they have

ever taken this poor girl to any oculist ? — has there

ever oeen any attempt made to restore her sight P"

. " Well I I b'Ueve there was, sir ! Tom laid out a

N ; OH,

le valae of Buoh a hewi

s to that, sir," observed
think a power of Peggy,
w with him. They'd he
Peggy won't trust him
And no wonder she
ver a week at a time to

rs blind ?"

7e it from her own bro-
■ady that you saw there
Tom in a long sickness
got the cold that settled
ht from her. She was a '
■e that as you'd wish to

" said Mr. Coulter, " for
pretty. What a touch-
bought, " is here opened
been said that truth is
what a people are these
3 others to judge them
le deep and earnest feel-
ir hearts, often beneath
orl"

i to Con, *' if they have
any oculist ? — has there
B to restore her sight P"
as, sir ! Tom laid out a

MiORANT L!FE IN THE NBW VTORLD.

80«

power o' money, they tell me, try in' to get her cured
but it seems it was all no use."

No more was said on the subject, for just then
Mr. Coulter insisted on Con's turning back. " You
Lave to start very early," said he, " and the sooner
you are in bed all the better. I have already given
you all the advice in my power, and have now only
to wish you that prosperity in your new undertaking
which your good conduct and steady industry so well
deserve. As for Winny, you need have no fears
about her. My sisters take a deep interest in her
welfare, and she will have a good home with them
till you are enabled to send for her with the rest of
your family. Farewell I if we should never meet
again, you will remember old Sam Coulter as one
who wished yon well." There was a husky tone in
his voice that betrayed more emotion than he chose
to manifest in words. Shaking Con's hand warmly
and again, he was moving rapidly away, but Con
harried after him.

" So you're goin', sir," he got ont with no small
difficulty, " an not a word of the money ! You
never asked me when or how I'd pay it to the
ladies, nor neither did themselves, when I went to
bid them farewell, may the Lord in Heaven bless
them and you now and for evermore 1"

" Neither my sisters nor mypelf thought it necei>
sary to exact any promises from you. Con !" said
Mr. Coulter, without turning his head, " we know
your honesty too well for that. Send it back when

810

con o'kegan ; OR,

you can, and according m yon are able, bat be sary
don't distress yourself, my poor fellow ! trying tc
Bond all or any part of it too soon. My sisters are
in no need of the money, and so they requested me
to tell you." So saying he quickened his pace once
more, and Con seeing that he desired no further
par'ey, stood looking after him till he waa out of
sight, murmuring prayers for him and his. When
he could no longer see him he turned his steps
towards his present home, with a heavy though
hopeful heart.

As Mr. Coulter followed his homeward way, think-
ing of the humble friend with whom he had parted
perhaps forever, he was accosted by a sturdy beg-
gar, who solicited charity in the richest brogue of
southern Ireland. At another time Mr. Coulter
would have conscientiously refused to give a solitary
cent, telling the able-bodied applicant to go to work,
but now with his heart full of the O'Regan's, and
Peggy Daly, and Tom Dorragh, and the harmless
pedantry of Andy Dwyer, he was in no mood for re-
fusing a dole to one of their countrymen. So he
threw the man a quarter and walked on. Had he
witnessed the surprise with which the glittering silver
piece was picked up, and the fervor of gratitude with
which a prayer for him was sent up to heaven — above
all, had he heard the thrilling tone in which the poor
man muttered "Now, Kitty, honey, I've got the
price of the big loaf for you an' the children," he
wo'Ud have gone after the apparent beggar and

.K ; OR,

fon are able, but be sary
poor fellow ! trying to
)o soon. My sisters are
id so they requested me
quickened his pace once
t be desired no further
' him till he was out of
'or him and his. When
lim he turned his steps
, with a heavy though

lis homeward way, think-
ith whom he had parted
;costed by a sturdy beg-
n the richest brogue of
>ther time Mr. Coulter
refused to give a solitary
applicant to go to work,
11 of the O'Regan's, and
rragh, and the harmless
le was in no mood for re-
leir countrymen. So he
nd walked on. Had he
which the glittering silver
i fervor of gratitude with
jent up to he&ven — above
g tone in which the poor
ty, honey, I've got the
rou an' the children," he
e apparent beggar and

EUIGRAKT LIFE IN THE ffR# WORLD.

81^

doubled his gift. Little did the warm-hearted mer-
chant think that the poor fellow had been vainly
looking for work all the long day, and had only so-
licited charity when all else failed, in order to bring
home sustenance for his siek vrife and her famishing
^Idren.

tl3

CON o'rMAH I 99 J

CHAPTER XVIII.

Pass we now over the tearful sepcration of Con
and Winny, the friendly admonkions of Andy
Dtryer, the ofb-repoated good wishes of hia less
imposing helpmate, and the promises exacted by
those left behind that their friends would be sure
to let them " know eraotly T/hat kind of a place it
was that they were going to as coon as ever they
got themselves settled." All this may be easily
imagined, as also the flash of laudable ambition
momentarily elicited in Tom Derragh's mind.
" Well 1" said he, " I know I'm a good-for-nothing
fellow — that's plain — if I weren't I might be able to
Btart with the rest of you, and give Barney a lift
that would help him away, too — I know there a'nt
nothing would please poor Peggy so well, for she
never took to this here way of life we're in——"

" No, nor never will !" interrupted Ptggy, with
•tarlliug energy.

"Well! I know it, Peggy, I do, and you'll see
if I don't set about trying to take you out of it.
What do you all laugh at? — a'nt I young and titrong
yet?"

EMIORAKT MFK IN THB NEW WORLD.

31S

XVIII.

arful sepcration of Con
admonkions of Andy
}od wishes of hia less
3 promises exacted by
■ friends would be sura
/bat kind of a place it
to £8 coon as ever they
UI this may be easily
I of laudable ambilion
Pom Derragh'a mind.
I'm a good-for-nothing
ren't I might be able to
and give Barney a lift
too — I know there a'nt
Peggy BO well, for she

of life we're in "

iterrupted Peggy, with

f, I do, and you'll see
to take you out of it.
i'nt I young and tttrong

"Oh! to be sure," said Peggy, with her nsaal
•oolness of manner, " we all know that — an' yon
were young an' strong ever since you came here.
Sure I know myself you'll turn your back on the
taverns for the time to come, an' give up dances
and raffles an' all such things, an' you'll be off to
the West in no time at all with lots of money in
one pocket an' rae in the other." The laugh which
followed was £;all and wormwood to Tom, who left
the place " in a pet," as Anty said, after a silent
shake hands with Con and each of the Bergens, se-
nior and junior.

Let the reader draw apon his imagination for tho
long and tedious journey, (in those days prinjoipally
by canal,) the surprise and delight with which our
travellers first beheld the broad prairies of the
West, stretching far and away to meet the bound-
less horizon, and doited here and there with patches
of woodland whose gigantic timber was matter of
ceaseless wonder. Paul had written to his brother
from Chicago, letting him know what day he might
expect them all, and so the first person he saw at
the office-door in Dubuque was Felix himself, who
had come with two of his neighbors, each provided
with a horse and wagon to convey the travellers
home.

"Home!" repeated Paul, wi^ a melancholy shake
of the head whioh made Felix laugh.

" Home ! yes, to be sure," said he, " isn't my
homo yours till you get one of your own? And

CON O'KBOAN : OR,

Ibis decent boy, too," meaning Con, "he's jnst as
welcome as yoa are, an' I'm sure that's as much as
I could say. And so this iu Nora, and these are
the children — well I thanks be to God that I lived
to see you all in Dubuque. You're welcome here,
every one of you, and may the Lord grant you all
sorts of happiness here and hereafter ! Come along
here, Nora, and take hold of my arm, till I get you
all something to eat and drink. I'm sure you're
a'most worn out afier such a long journey. Boys,"
to his companions, " will you just go and give the
horses a bite and then hurry back here, for we'll be
starting as soon as we got some refreshment."

Thus bustling and talking Felix took the travel-
lers to an eating-house, where he ordered a good
substantial dinner for the whole party, and whilst it
was being prepared, he had asked at least a hundred
questions about " home" and about affairs in the
East, which seemed to have made quite a noise in
that part of the world. " Them natives," said he,
^ " are playing the mischief there. It's a wonder to
me that any Irishman — if he's a Oatholio — would
live amongst such a set. For my part, I'd sooner
transport myself to Botany Bay. I wouldn't put
up with Bueh doings as they get on with — no, not
on any account — so long as I had the means of get-
ting away from amongst them."

By this time Thady Landrigan and Pat Mullini
had returned and the dinner was soon after placed
on the table. This was a welcome sight to all par*

-ss^ssKiiiEi;

» ; OB,

ling Con, "he's jast as
sure that's as much aa
i8 Nora, and these are
be to God that I lived
You're welcome here,
the Lord grant you all
hereafter! Come along
if my arm, till I get you
irink. I'm sure you're
a long journey. Boys,"
ou just go and give the
f back here, for we'll be
ome refreshment."
ig Felix took the travel-
ere he ordered a good
hole party, and whilst it
asked at least a hundred
nd about affairs in the
e made quite a noise in
Them natives," said he,
there. It's a wonder to
' he's a Catholio — would
For my part, I'd sooner
Y Bay. I wouldn't put
ley get on with — no, not
I had the means of get-
em."

idrigan and Pat MuHini
!r was soon afler placed
reloome sight to all par*

EMIGRANT LIFE IM THE NEW WORLD.

31b

ties, but especially to the children, whose appetites
were whetted by the keen air and their long ride
over the prairie in an open stage wagon. There
was not a happi«r man in Iowa State that day than
Felix Bergen, as he dispensed around the comforts
for which he was to pay. He would glance occa-
sionally at the brother from whom he had been so
long separated as if to make sure that he was actu-
ally sitting there within a few feet of him and at
the same table, then his eye would wander to Nora
and her blooming progeny, and his joy wuld break
out in words.

«' Bless my soul, but I'm glad to see yon all !—
ani so will Judy, too, for many a long look out she
has had for you this time past. And I declare,
Paul, you stEnd it bravely, after all. So does Nor&:
too, indeed, though you're neither so young nor sc
rosy— no, nor so light-hearted, neither, Nora, as
when I seen you last. You were young then,— and
BO was I too !" he added with a sigh ; " well I well !
there's many a change in the world since then, and
them old times are just like a dream as we look
back at them. Now here's Con CTRegan, and he
was a little fellow for all the world like Patsey
there when I came out to this country. I was
thinking a«d tiiinking what O'Regans he could be
of, but since I see him I don't need to ask. You're
ft son of Tim O'Regan— him that was called Tim
3eg— aren't you. Con ?"
« I am, indeed, then," said Con, speaking with

^••'^ T'^"^ *' '^^y'"

3lfl

CON c'ritqan ; OH,

Buppiassed emotion; "that was just my father's
name."

" And your mother was Susy O'Connor, of the
l»ke side, a daughter of old Oormao ?"

" The same !"

" I knew it," cried Felix, " I could have sworn
to you anywhere I'd meet you by reason of the lilie-
ncss you have to your poor father— Qod rest his
soul!— well! I owed you a good turn on your
father's account, and though I didn't know at the
time who you were, I chose you aa good a lot of
land as if I was choosing it for myself It's pick
and choose between yours and Paul's. But, Lord
bless me, Thady, isn't it time we were starting P—
run you and Pat and get out the wagons."

A few minutes saw them all fairly on th6 road,
and after a pleasant rde •'f some three I'ours, they
reached the snug homestead of Felix Bergeu, where
they were met with a whole concert of joyouk gra-
tulation from dogs of various sizes, oven befv,^e
Judy herself madt her appearance, all in a glow witi
heat and excitement, for she had been cooking most
of the day. The ve y personification of cordial wel-
come was Judv Bergen as she caught Nora in her
arms, and then each of the children in succession,
kissing them over and over.

AH was ,iow joyous buslle. Judy and her two
rosy handmaids were " up to the eyes in business,"
some putting away the luggage, some cooking, and
all asking numerous questions of Con about <* the old

v; OH,

t was just my father's

Susy O'Connor, of the
Gormao ?"

:, " I could have sworn
ou by reason of the like-
tor father — Qod rest hia

a good turn on your
h I didn't know at the
e you a3 good a lot of
it for myself. It's pick

and Paul's. But, Lord
oae we were starting P —
t the wagons."
a all fairly oa the road,
' some threb bours, they

of Felix Bergeii, where
s concert of joyouh qra-
ious sizes, oven befv,^e
irance, all in a glow witi

had been cooking most
nifioation of cordial wel-
jhe caught Nora in her

children in succession,

le. Judy and her two
the eyes in business,"
:age, some cooking, and
IS of Con about " tha old

EMICRANT MFE IN THC NRW WORLD.

311

eountry" from which he was the latest arrival. One
of the herdboys was sent to apprise the nearest
neighbors of the great eveu-t, and long before night-
fill several of them "dropt in" to see and welcome
the new-comers. Thady Landrigan and Pat Mul-
litis were, of coarse, kept for the evening, and right
willing they were to stay. When conversation be-
gan to flag somewhat, Felix cleared his throat for a
song to gratify Paul's oflen-ex pressed wish. "You
used to be a great singer, Felix," said he, after the
song was sung, " an' I see you're nothing failed yet.
But that's a great song entirely — where did yuu
happen on it ?" It was Morris's fine song, " Life in
the West."

" Oh ! then, myself could hardly tell you," said
his brother ; " I b'lieve I learned it in some of the
cities. It's a sort of a favorite of mine."

" I like it well enough myself," observed Judy,
''but still and all it's not one of our own songs.
Can't you sing ' The Shannon Side,' or ' Molly
Astore,' or some of them fine old songs that you
ased to sing at home, Felix, dear ?"

" Oh bother to you, Judy," cried her husband,
good-humoredly ; " between you and Paul," looking
affectionately at his brother, " you'd keep me sing-
ing all night. I vow to goodness but you would.
Here's Thady Landrigan hasn't sung e'er a song yet.
Come now, Thady ! give us ' The Croppy Boy' — will
you ?"

" Oh bedad I will, then," said Thady, " if it'll be

818

CON tf'HROAN ; OR,

the laste pleasure to the company. Bat sure my-
eelf has no voice worth speakin' of. Howsomever
I'll try, at any rate. Mrs. Paul Bergen, ma'am, did
you ever hear ' The Croppy Boy V "

Nora answered in the affirmative, but expressed
a longing desire to hear it again, " for," said she, '* it
does my heart good to hear any of the old songs, an'
OS so far away from where we used to hear them."

The song was sung accordingly, and sung wilh
great sweetness and its full measure of mournful
pathos, for Thady did himself injustice when he said
he had no voice. When the last notes of the plain
live melody had died away, Nora wiped her eyes,
and heaved a sympathetic sigh responsive to the
touching " farewell" of the ill-fated hero of the song,
one of the Wexford insurgents of '98:

" Farewell, father, and mother, too,
Sister Mary, I had but you ;
AcroBS the seas I would freely go.
To seek a fortune for nay Mary 0!"

Even Paul and Con had to clear their throats
more than once before they ventured to thank Thady
for his song. " Why, Thady," said Paul, with the
familiarity of an old acquaintance, " if I could only
Bing half as well as yon, I'd never be done singin'."

" It's well he can do thetsame," said Pat Mullins,
who was a cousin of Thady's, winking slily at Con,
who was his next neighbor, " the sorra much else
he's good for, the same boy."

"Never mind him, Con," cried Thady, with a

■i * »~T ■"#i«i-' ua^

impany. Bat sure my-
ikin' of. Ho\V8omever
'aul Bergen, ma'am, did
Boy r "

rmative, but expressed
;ain, " for," said she, " it
any of the old songs, an'
re used to hear them."
•dingly, and sung with
I measure of mournful
If injustice when be said
last Hotes of tbe plaiu
, Nora wiped her eyes,
sigh responsive to the
Ifated hero of the song,
Its of '98:

mother, too,

it you ;

lid freely go,

my Mary 1"

to clear their throats

entured to thank Thady

y," said Paul, with the

itanco, " if I could only

levcr be done singin'."

ame," said Pat Muliina,

8, winking sliiy at Con,

, " the Borra much eUe
I)

" cried Thady, with a

RHIORANT LIFE S THE KIW WORLD.

81%

good-natured laugh, as ho bared his sinewy arm and
held it up for examinatfbn ; " dou't you think that
arm ought to be able to do something ? The rap
knows well enough what I can do, and you and Paul
will soon know it, too, please God I for there isn't aa
Irish settler within ten miles of you but what I have
given a hand to in my time. Nobody hereabouts
thinks his house right put together unless Thady
Landrigan is at the doin' of it. Only get the logs
for your houses chopped and ready, an' I'm the boy
that'll put them in their places in less than no time."

" Oh ! well, begorra, Thady," said the waggish
Mullins, " if a lazy, good-for-nothing fellow like yon
means to have a band in it, we'll all do what we can.
We'll g4t Tommy Doyle and Luke Foley and a lot
of them fellows up in that direction, and here's Billy
Cogan will lend a hand, too — won't you, Billy?"
Billy nodded assent, for Billy was a man who spoke
little and thought much.

•« Well ! then," resumed Pat, " we'll all come over
here some day this week — let me see — Felix ! what
day will be the best for us to come ?"

*'0h! well, whatever day answers yourselves.
Judy here will be ready for you any day you come.
Sho'U have you a comfortable bit to eat, you may bo
sure."

" Well ! I'm no great cook, but I'll do my best,"
said Judy, with affected modesty, glancing, at th«
same time, with very justifiable pride over the even-
log meal wherewith she had just cpread the board;

CON REGAN ; OK,

♦' I'll have lots of country cbeer for you, and tbat't
all I can promise." Somehow Judy's promise ap-
peared to give geucral satisfaction. It might be
that the princely ham, " red as a cherry," which
graced one end of the board, and the dish of new-
laid eggs, and the mescaun of ficdh butter and th-e
pitcher of rich cream which flanked the files of gi-
gantic tea-cups at the other end, had something to
do in the cheerful resignation wherewith " the neigh-
bors" approved of Mrs. Bergen's culinary labors, not
to speak of the huge loaf of good home-made bread
and the plate of cakes, smoking hot from the oven.
Certain it is that the day for the great chopping was
speedily settled on, and it was arranged that men
enough should be gathered to chop the wood for the
two ho'.ises. There was plenty of timber, FoHx
said, on both farms, but there was also a large pro-
portion of level praine, so that the houses could be
put up at once.

" But you know, Con O'Regan's goin' to live with
OS for a while," said Nora ; " we'll not let him live
like a hermit all alone by himself. It'll be time
enough for him to go to his own house next yeai
when he'll be beginniu' to think of gettin' out hia
family."

"Oh! well, even so," observed Felix, "its best to
have the timber chopped and shaped. It'll be all
the better for lying over a while to season, and next
fall we'll get the boys to come again and pat np the

c
s

n
11
a

pi
h(

di
vi

0)1

ta:
tei

; y«,

leer for you, and that't
>w Judy's promise ap-
sfaclion. It might be
i as a cherry," which
I, and tho dish of new-
)f fresh butter and th-e
flanked the files of gi-
end, had somethiog to
I wherewith " the ueigh-
en's culinary labors, not
good home-made bread
ing hot from the oven,
the great chopping was
ras arranged that men
ochop the wood for the
lenty of limber, FeHx
re was also a large pro-
lat the houses could be

sgan's goin' to live with
" we'll not let him live
himself. It'll be time
is own house next yeat
;hink of gettin' out his

rved Felix, " its best to
nd shaped. It'll be all
hile to season, and next
ae again and pat np (he

«MICRANT l.irK \H THR NFW WORLD. g^g

house for Con. But there's Judy waiting for us, I
see."

" Sit over now, all of you," said Mrs. Bergen,
"and see if you can eat a bit. Come here, Nora,
aianna machree ! and sit beside wtc."

" VVhy, then, I declare," said Con, " we haven't tho
least occasion for anything now. We've been eatin'
ever since we came."

" Nonsense, man !" cried Felix, who was already
doing mighty execution on the ham aforesaid ; " non-
sense, man, do you think it's in the city you are still ?
You'll have to work hard here, I tell you, so you
must eat whenever you get the chance. Tho air ia
mighty keen and sharp at times on these prairies,
and it'll soon give you your appetite, I tell you. Sit
over now at once and don't keep us waiting on your
honors all day. Now Judy, my woman I be sure
you give us a rousing cup of tea— if you don't, mind
you'll catch it."

There was no resisting Felix's whole-hearted hos-
pit&lity, so to it they all went, and it did Judy'g
heart good to see how well her good things were
appreciated, though her modesty war a little tried
now and then by the honest encomiums impartially
divided between her cookery and the quality of her
viands.

The evening passed merrily and quickly, with
many detailed remembrances of the laud so far dis-
tant and so dearly loved The new-comers were en-
tertained with stories of Western life calculated to

Si2

CON o'bmaw ; <M

prepare them for wliat they had themselves to ex-
pect, the dangers to be avoided and the proper
course to be pursued in forming homes and home-
steads, raising crops, and all the rest. At IcHgth
some one noticed that Janie and Palsey were nod-
ding on either side of the huge chimney, and this
-nns the signal for a general rising, for, " sure enough,
it's tired they must all be, and in need of get tin' to
their beds." A coidial good-night was thereupon
exchanged, and the hardy settlers, calling to them
their respective dogs, who had lain slumbering in
various corners of the spacious kitchen, stepped out
into the clear starlight of the prairie, with hearts
light and free as ihe air they breathed. What though
miles lay between them and their respective homes,
they had health and strengtli and that buoyancy of
spirit which is one of the prevailing characteristics
of their race.

" But, I say, Felix,' said our friend Thady, turning
back on his heel after he had gone a few steps ; " I
Bay, a'nt Father Doran a-coming next Sunday?"

" Of course," was Felix's answer ; " don't you know-
it's a fortnight since he was here ? We'll have Mass,
please Qod, a» usual, at nine o'clock, so look sharp
all of you and don't be comin' in when it's half over.
And, do you hear, Thady !" going after him to the
door, "his reverence will get in a Saturday evening
this time, so he can hear any one that wants to go to
confession. I was near forgettin' to tell you, and he
bid me do it, for I waa talking to- him in towa la»4

Vt\ OB

iy had themselves to eX'
avoided and the proper
rming homes and home-

all the rest. At length
lie and Patsey were nod-
i huge chimney, and this

rising, for, " sure enoagh,
and in need of geitin' to
;ood-night was thorenpon
r settlers, calling to them
> had lain slumbering in
ciouB kitchen, stepped out
if the prairie, with hearts
y breathed. What though
ad their respective homos,
gth and that buoyancy of

prevailing characteristics

I our friend Thady, turning
bad gone a few steps ; " I
;oming next Sunday ?"
} answer ; " don't you know
is here ? We'll have M ass,
ine o'clock, so look sharp
min' in when it's half over.
Y !" going after him to the
get in a Saturday evening
my one that wants to go to
)rgettin' to toll you, and l»e
•Iking to- him in town laal

EMIGKANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD. 323

Monday, jMind and tell aa many as you can. now ? '»
" All right ! " responded Thady, and away he went
with rapid strides to overtake his companions,
whistling aa he went, " Old Ireland, a long farewell ! ''
"So, then, the priest comes here once a fort-
night?" said Con, as Felix took a seat near the
blazing hearth.

Felii replied in the affirmative, adding, « m tho
coarse of a year or two we're in hopes of having
him settled here for good and all. Father Doran
has hard enough times of it, poor man, for he has
charge of two or three missions, and the sick calls
are worse than all. There's times when he has to
go forty or fifty miles to give the rites of the
Church ■'

" Do you tell me so ?" cried Paul, in blank omaze-
ment, as he thought of the parishes in Ireland, per-
haps four or six miles square.

" I do tell you so, and it's truth I tell you. Still
he doesn't murmur ; he says we must only look
straight before us, and that God will make it all
right in His own good time. He's so thankful— I
mean Father Doran— to see the people settling down
here on farms, and putting themselves in the way of
serving both body and soul that he thinks no trouble
too great."

" He's a good priest, thdn, is ho ?" in9uired Con.

"Good !'• cried Judy, "he's one of the finest men
you ever laid an eye on. He has no more prido in
kim than a little'child. You kuo* it's with ua h«

£•24

CON o'broan ; on,

stops wlienever he comes the way, and I declare t«
you he's as easy pleased as any of our laboring men.
The Lord's blessin' be about him 1 But he'll be here
on Saturday evenin', and youU see what he is your-

selves."

Here a yawn from Paul reminded the careful
mistress of the mansion that the travellers needed
rest. " I b'lieve we'll not mind sayin' the Rosary
the night," said she, " as you're all so dead tired."

" Ah, then," said Nora, rousing herself from the
drowsy fit into which she had been falling, "ah,
then, indeed, it's not on our account you'll miss it.
It's us that have a right to say it this night, when
we've got safe to our journey's end."

" Very well," said Judy, " I'll just hang on a skillet
of milk to make you a good posset. It'll be ready
by the time the Rosary's said, and it'll do you all
the good in life just to take it before you lie down."
On the following morning when our little party
met at breakfast, Felix began to congratulate his
brother on the fine family he had. Janie was still
washing and combing the youngsters in the inner
room, BO that the children were not within hearing.
Paul replied that they were well enough— clean,
healthy children, he thanked (Jo.1, "but there's that
eldest boy," said he, " an' I cau hardly keep him in
bounds, at all, at all."
« Why, how is tliat, Paul ?"
" Oh, then, bad cess to the one of me knows,"
Wturned Paul, dejectedly, "he Was always of •

ROAN ; olt,

8 the way, and I declare U
as any of our laboring men.
jout him 1 But he'll be here
i you'll see what he is jour-

Paul reminded the careful
a that the travellers needed
lot mind sayin' the Rosary
I you're all so dead tired."
a, rousing herself from the
she had been falling, "ah,
I our account you'll miss it.
t to say it this night, when
lurney's end."

ly, " I'll just hang on a skillet
good posset. It'll be ready
y's said, and it'll do you all
take it before you lie down."
orning when our little party
t began to congratulate his
mily he had. Janie was still
the youngsters in the inner
ren were not within hearing.
y were well enough— clean,
inked (J<kI, "but there's that
an' I cau hardly keep him in

Paul?"

B to the one of me knows,"

edly, " he ^as always of •

EM^ORA^'T LIFE IN THE NKW WORLD.

32ft

■tirrin', resolute turn, an' I suppose after pooi
Peter's death, God be good to him I we petted him
more than we ought to have done " ■; -^

" NonsenHe, man," interposed Nora, " you might
aa well put the saddle on the right horse at oust.
It was the streets that made him as he is — the
streets an' the bad company he spent Lis time with.
An angel from heaven w ould soon be made as black
aa the devil— God pardon me for sayiu' so ! — if he
was allowed the run of the streets in them vagabond
cities."

"And the schools, Mrs. Bergen I" added Con;
" Andy D wy er told me enough about them Common
Schools, as they call them, ay 1 enough to make the
hair stand on one's head."

*' Well I Andy has a good right to know," ob-
served Nora, in answer; "he's a sensible mau aud
has a power of larnin'. Somebo»^ Paul here could
never get it into his bead that there was any great
harm in them sohools."

" Why, how could they be as bad as Andy would
make them out," replied Paul, in an apologetio tone,
" when the olargy aren't against them — at least
where u« oame from ?"

«' You do well '0 put that in," said his brother,
hastily, "for I've often heard from Father Doran
that the clargy are down on them State Schools
everywhere, as far as Catholics are concerned. He
says they're first-rate for doing the devil's work,
luch aa making away with the good seed out of Ih*

tmd

826

COK o'rman ; OR,

soul and planting everything that's bad in its place.
Ah ! God bless his reverence, he's np to everything,
and I'll engage he'll keep the wolf from his flock
when once he's left in charge. He knows what's
good for the people, and he'll see it carried oat, or
he'll know for what. Bnt about this boy of yours,
Paul!" he suddenly added.

." Well, yes, Felix I" said Paul, with a heavy sigh,
«' he's a great trouble to me, sure enough. God di-
rect me what to do with him !"

«' Humph!" cried Felix, with contemptuous brevi-
ty, " don't give yourself any farther trouble about
him. Once away i'rom his bad companions, he'll
soon forget the tricks he lamed among them. He'll
soon leave off his pranks here, mind I tell you!
You can keep him down noio as much as you like,
for he'll have no little self-conceited monkeys to
prime him up with bad advice oo*. of doors. I'll
give you a hand, too, as long as he's in the house with
me, and you'll see he'll soon be all right^that is,
with the help of God."

Daring the latter part of this disconrso, Judy had
been telling Nora flie number of her cows, sheep,
fowls, &o., «fco., to which Nora listened with great
interest and no small admiration. " Why, then, but
you must live in a great way here entirely I" she ex*
olaimel ; " will it ever come our lot, do you think
'»<> hav 3 anything like that ?"

" T > be sure it will 1" cried Judy, •* if yon only
work lot it aa we did, an' I'm sure yoa're well

^ ' < R.m' gtsa mim^^^^¥m i B i ^ i ^a K a 9^ifvm»!VPsp!^3^- 'iifs»st »uim»w t^ iiXK^ Ass^as^^»<^^^'''

QAN ; OR,

bing that's bad in its place,
snoe, he's np to everything,
3p the wolf from his flock
charge. He knows what's

he'll see it carried oat, or
at about this boy of yours,
id.
lid Paul, with a heavy sigh,

me, sure enough. God di-
1 him !"

t, with contemptuous brevi-
f any farther trouble about

his bad companions, he'll
I larned among them. He'll
dks here, mind I tell you!
irn tioio as much as you like,

self-conceited monkeys to
I advice ov*. of doors. I'll
long as he's in the house with
. soon be all right — that is,

t of this discourso, Judy had
number of her cows, sheep,
ih Nora listened with great
Imiratton. •' Why, then, but
t way here entirely I" she ex*
come our lot, do you think
hat?"

1" cried Judy, " if you onl/
1, an' I'm sure you're well

RMIORAKr LIFR IN THE NB« WOM^.-

891

enoagb inclined. It's true you're not the stoutest
in the world yourself, but then Paul's a strong,
healthy man, and the children will soon bo a great
help to you. If you had only a couple of years
over your head, there would be no fear of you, and
then you'll not be as hard np as many others, bekase
Felix and myself are so near you here. Thanks be
to God I we ha/e enough and to spare. Slill and
all, Nora, there's many a one we see here that's just
hard enough set to get through the first year or so
till the crops come in cleverly and the bit of a house
is made fit to live in. But then, sure, isn't it worth
their while to put np with some hardship for a while
when they'll have the benefit of it all their life and
their children after them P The first is always the
worst with people here, but when they're fairl/
started they get on, most of there, as well as heart
could wish. Here are the children coming in now.
Won't yon give them some of this nice milk por-
ridge before their tea ? I made it a purpose for
them."

" Indeed then I will," said Nora, gratefully, " an'
it's it that'll be the treat fur them I"

Breakfast being over, Folix asked Paul and Con
if they wouldn't like to go and see their respective
farms. " I have some oats to sow," said he, " before
I go, but all I have to do won't take me more than •
couple of hours."

"And we'll give you a hand both of us," said
Con ; ** it'll do our hearts good I'm sure to get out

mmmfi'»sbft'^'^^=-^^~

IS8

COM O'REOAN ; Uky

to work in the fields again. You'll give as our firat
lesson in Western fanning."

"And me, too," cried Patsey, making liaste to
bolt down the last spoonfuls of his porridge ; " I
guess I'll go, too."

" No, Patsey," said his mother, " you1l stay with
Aunty ail' me for this time. Some other day you can
go out with the men. I want you to play with Jim
an' the baby."

" No, I won't," said Patsey, with all his precocious
firmness; "Jane may play with the young ones.
I'll go with father and uncle."

«' Patsey !" said his father, sternly, " you can't go
with us when your mother wants you here."

" Yes I I will go !" shouted the boy, putting him
self into an attitude ; " I never saw folks working in
fields and I want to go see them now."

«' What's that you say, Patsey," said his undo,
slowly ; "do you mean to say that you'll not obey
either your father or mother t"

" I want to go out with you," repeated Patsey,

doggedly.
" Didn't your father and mother both forbid you

to go?"

" Oh ! that a'nt any matter 1— I can go if I like."
JTow Patsey calculated on having an immunity from o
f uniahment at. least for some days afler arriving ^^ I e
Iris uncle's, and he wished to show off as indepen- r
ieotly as possible, but bis onole fixed a look on him

IN ; ys
YouUl give M oar firal

fatsey, making haste to
fuU of his porridge ; " I

notber, " you*ll stay with

Some other day you can

ant you to play with Jim

ley, with all bis precooious

y with the young ones.

le."

jr, Bteruly, " you can't go

' waotB you here."

ited the boy, putting him

ever saw folks working in

s them now."
Pataey," aaid his undo,
say that you'll not obey

er?"

,h you," repeated Pataey,

i mother both forbid you

.ter ! — I can go if I like."
having an immunity from
ime days after arriving at
1 to show off as indepen-
i oQole fixed a look on him

KMIGRAN'T IJFE IN THR NRW WORIJ).

33»

that made him quail as he had hardly ever quailed
before.

" Now, I'll tell you what it ia, my fine fellow !*
aaid Felix, putting on a stern dignity that was by no
means his own, and speaking in slow, measured ao-
neatp, "never let me hear you speak so again, or I'll
make your father hire you out to a farmer to mind
the cattle, where you'll have to sleep in an r nt house
all alone by yourself. We'll neither beat mr abuse
you, but we'll turn you over to the Btrar.^,ers where
you'll soon be broken in."

Patsey stood looking up at his i o. ") in gap:ng
wonder, his mouth and eyes wide opt-n, %iid a sovt
of half-smile on his face. He e\ dent.y wished to
believe his uncle only in jest. 1 ooking lirtively
round, too, his quiuk eye detected i\ sroilv on Con's
face, as he stood rather behind PaUi, and that con-
firmed the astute urchin in his preconceived notion.
Assuming, therefore, a staggering tone, he turned
again to his uncle, det>Tn. ned to let him see that hx^
had caught a Tartar. '• Ha ! ha I uoole I I a'nt so
green as you take me /or. 1 guess I know about aa
much as other folks. Tf u can't do we so easy a%
you think. I tell you I will go I"

*' And I tell you, you shan't!" returned the unde,
now really angry, while Judy raised her hands and
eyes in mute horror ; " j ist put these city tricks
out of your head altof^ether, my good boy, or so
sure as my name ia Felix Bergen, I'll do as I aaid
thio very day. Off yo i go, depend upon it! You

S30

CON O^BKOAN ; OK,

needn't look at me that way, for I tell yoa I'm in
earnest, as you'll find to your cost before you're
many days older. I'll not have a curse drawn down
on my little place by harboring a disobedient, un-
dutiful son. Mind that now, my boy, and just take
your choice. Either make up your mind to obey
your father and mother — aye, and your aunt and me,
too, or I'll saddle a horse this very evening, and
leave yon over with Jack Quigley, five or six miles
across the prairie. He's just in want of a little fel-
low about your size to herd his sheep and cattle.
He's the man will soon settle you, depend upon it."

" Ah I then, Felix dear, don't be so hard on the
child," interrupted Judy ; " he didn't mean any harm,
I know well enough, an' I'll go bail for him that he'll
not act so again. If he does, you may have your
own way with him, but a first offence ought to be
passed over."

" Ah ! Qod help your wit, Judy," said Nora, sadly,
** it's little you know about the same lad. If it was
the first offence of the kind for him, I'd be the first
to put in a word for him, but och I och ! it isn't the
first of a hundred. He has no more respect for
what we say to him than if we were two black nig-
gers." An- by this time her tears attested the sia-
eerity and depth of her affliction.

" Do you see that now, Patsey T' said his uncle,
in a husky voice ; " do you see that ? — what punish-
ment would be too great for a son that grieves hit
mother's heart by his nndutiful conduct?— I tell

IAN ; OR,

way, for I tell yoa I'm ia

your cost before you're

have a curse drawn down

joring a disobedieut, un>

>w, my boy, and just take

:e up your mind to obey

lye, and your aunt and me,

ie this very evening, and

Quigley, five or six miles

just in want of a iittle f«l-

3rd bis sheep and cattle.

Itle yon, depend apon it."

don't be so hard on tlie

" be didn't mean any harm,

11 go bail for him that he'll

ioes, you may have your

first offence ought to be

t, Judy," said Nora, sadly,
It the same lad. If it teas
id for him, I'd be the first
but och I ooh ! it isn't the
has no more respect for
if we were two black nig-
her tears attested the sin-
liction.

Patseyf" said his uncle,
1 see that ? — what punish-
for a son that grieves his
udutiful conduct? — I tell

EMIORAKT UrR IN THE NEW WORLD.

8S1

you there's not a boy round here that wouldn't
ehun you like a plague if they knew you to turn
your tongue on father or mother."

Between his mother's tears and his uncle's threats.
Patsey was fairly at a stand, and the natural obsti-
nacy of his disposition was softened down. Going
over to his mother he said in a low tone : " Mother,
just tell uncle, will you ? that I won't act so again.
Don't cry so — don't now— I don't like to see you
cry." A tender caress was the mother's answer, id
she bad no need to repeat the message to Felix, i '
that worthy man had heard it, every word, and the
smile which brightened his sun-browned cheek said
as plainly as possible, " My scheme has succeeded
even better than I expected." So winking at Con
and Paul, he took down his hat, and telling Patsey
he was glad to see him coming to his senses, he led
the way to one of the out-houses where the farming
utensils were kept.

" Well, Paul 1" said he, " what do yon think of
that for a beginning ?"

" First-rate, Felix ! — I declare you brought him
to in doable quick time, an' without as much as one
stroke !'*

"Oh! as to the strokes," observed Felix, "I
wouldn't on any account Uy a band on him — that's
your business and his mother's, not mine. But I
just meant to let him see that such work would
never do here. That's all. And mark my words,
he'll not forget the lesson in haste, beoause he'U

882

CON O'llRGAiT ; OR,

find it backed up by the habits of the people all
round him. He'll not be long here till he gets
ashamed of his notions of independence. He oame
here yesterday a little man, but we'll soon make
him a little ioy. Come along now, both of you.
We've lost some time, but we can soon make up
for it — many hands, you know, make light work,
8nd| when the oats is safe in the ground, we'll get
a bit of dinner, and then hurrah ! for your farms !—
I'll show you this very day the greatest sight you
ever saw, that is, a little estate of your own that
neither landlord, nor proctor, nor cess-man, nor tax-
g.athcrer, can ever lay claim to. Isn't that worth
something f "

" And who may I thank for it ?" said Paul, in a
tremulous voice.

*< Pooh ! pooh I' cried Felix, " I suppose you'll be
for thanking me, and Cou there his good friends in
the city, but it's God that has done it all. Thank
Him, then, and not me. Blessed be His name, Ho
has done as much for me as for any one, and I'm
sure there's no one less deserving of His iavors.
But here we are — here's the ground all ready, and
fine soil yon see it is, too. So now let us set to at
onoe and we'U be through the aooner."

OR,

BMIORANT l.irE IX THE NIW WORLD.

tst

(its of tbe people all
Dg here till he gels
spendenoe. He came
but we'll soon make
g now, both of you.
e cau soon make up
>w, make light work,
the ground, we'll get
ih ! for your farms 1 —
le greatest sight you
Xe of your own that
nor oess-man, nor tax-
to. Isn't that worth

r it ?" said Paul, in a

, " I suppose yoM'U b«
e his good friends in
8 done it all. Thank
ised be His name, He
for any one, and I'm
erving of His favors,
ground all ready, and
now let us set to at

•ooner.

)•

CHAPTER XIX.

Whkn Con and Paul were taken in snccession to
survey their new possessions, they could hardly be-
lieve their eyes that it was wild land on which they
looked. The undulating surface of the prairie was
covered with the delicate herbage of Spring, green
and soft as that which carpets the valleys of the
Emerald Isle. The fairest and brightest-tinted flow-
ers were scattered around in rich profusion, and
altogether, the scene had that pastoral character
which belonps to a high state of cultivation. At tho
northern ext emity of the two farms was a grove of
considerable extent, its strangely-mingled foliage
presenting Ol e mass of freshest verdure of every
shade and tint.* In addition to this there was a

*<■ The attraction of the prairie consials in ita extent, its car-
pet of verdure and flowers, its undulating surface, its grores,
and the fioge of timber by which it is surrounded." ..." In
thn Spring of the year, when the young grass has jn«t cwered
the ground wiih a carpet of delicate green, and especially if
Iho sun Is rising from behind a distant swell of the plain and
glitccring upon the dew drops, no scene can be more lonely
to the cyo." ..." Tho gaiety of tha prairie, iu embellish-

S84

COM o'ltRGAN ; OH,

r.nall clump of trees on Con's firm, and where their
shade fell deepest across the plain, his fertile imagi-
nation instantly reared a smiling cottage, the futnre
home of all he loved on earth. His eyes filled with
tears, but they were not tears of sadness, for his
heart was full of joyous anticipation.

As for Pan], he could only gaze, and wonder, and
admire. Everything was so new to him, so differ-
ent from what he had expected, that the whole seem-
ed a pleasing dream rather than a broad reality.
And Felix stood and looked alternately at both, en-
joying their surprise, a benevolent smile brightening
his wer.thor-bronzed features, and his hands crossed
behind his back. At last Paul turned towards him,
with a " Well ! well ! if this doesn't bate K[\ !"

" What do you mean ?" asked Feliy

Why, to think of me bein' the owner of such a
farm as this !— me that had to pay sk high rent for a
cellar in Hope street only two wfleks ago I Why,
Felix, a body has nothing to do bnt just dig up the
ground an' put in his crop I"

" Not even that, my good fellow," said Felix, with
a chuckling laugh, " you haven't to do that same —
you have only to get it ploughed up once, and then
sow yonr seed in drills — a second ploaghing covers
it up, and then the work is done. But then you

ments, a^d the absence of the gtoam and savage wi1iJne«g of
the forest, all contribnla to dispel the fee'ins of lonrliiwM
which naually creeps orer the mind of the aolUary trft»eller In
the wilderneji."— /owa as It /s »> teiJS, p. 26.

OR,

arm, nn<\ where their
lin, his fertile imagi-
ig cottage, the future
His eyes filled with
J of sadness, for his
ation,

aze, and wonder, and
ew to him, so differ-
that the whole seem-
han a broad reality,
ernately at both, en-
ent smile brighteninn
nd his hands crossed
turned towards him,
ssn't bate All !"
1 Feliy

the owner of such a
>ay ». high rent for a
> weeks ago I Why,
) bit just dig up the

ow," said Felix, with
't to do that same —
3d up onoe, and then
nd ploQghing covers
one. But then yoti

and iarage wiliine«8 of
ihe fee'in^ of lonplitwsi
r the lolitarjr traveller in
S5, p. 28.

EJIIOBAUT I.ir« IK TH« MEW WORLD.

335

have to fence it in, and that's the greatest difficulty
you'll have, but you'll have good help at it, please
God, and we'll get some of the fenoe-rails in that
grove for both your lots. The rest we can get from
f man a few miles down from here that I trade with
^rm time to time. He has lots of that article, and
heTakes grain or cattle, or most any sort of produce
in exchange. Well, Con 1 what are you thinking of ?
I see you're eyeing that cluster of trees very atten-
tively-are you thinking of cutting thorn down, or

"^rol'i by the laws, no!" replied Con, with on
wonted energy; "I was thiukin' what a beautiful
place that'll be for the house, an' how joyful poor
^^nny an' the wife will be when they see it all^
Well sure enough, but Ood is good to us !-and the
1 of it iB." added Con. quickly, " that we'll be all
our own—ter. here. There's nobody to drive or
Tsh us, an' if we work, it'll be for ourselves, not for
Sirs! Now. Paul, if we could only see Andy
D wyer, and Barney Brady here, and poor Tom Der-
raeh, we'd be all right 1"

u Oh , well, as to that," said the more phlegmatic
Paul, '• we may thank Qod that we're here ourselves.

Everybody can't be in it 1" -, . , t

fL laughed. "That's you all over, Paul! I
so. that youVe still the same cool customer that you
always were. But I wish to Qod," he added, with
tuddeu seriousness, .' that we had more o our own
people out here. This ia the place for them, and

Z'dB

CON o'regan ; OR,

not the Bmdky, dirty suburbs of tbe oities, wher«
they're smothered for the want of pure air, and,
worse than all, where they get into all sorts of ugly
Borapes by reason of the bad company they fall in
■with, and the bad example they see wherever they
turn. I declare to you when I get a-thinking of all
these things, I feel so mad at them for being blind-
led as they are, that I oould almost deny them for
my countrymen, but, then, again, when I come to
think better of it, sure it isn't them that's in fault, it
all comes from their simplicity, and sometimes, I
suppose, for the want of means. But here's Patsey,
I protest. Ilillo ! Patsey, what's the matter ?"
The little fellow could hardly draw his breath.

" My aunt— sent — sent me — to tell you — to tell you
— that tbe priest's come. She wants you home — aa

fast as you can !"

" All right, Patsey ! — but how did you find us

out — ch ! my little man ?"
*' Oh ! sure wasn't I standing on the little hill near

the house looking after you, and sometimes I fuU

like following you, but — but "

" But you were afraid," said his nncle, laughing

and winking at Con.

" Well ! I wan't afraid, uncle, but I thought you

might be vexed, so I just staid where I was, till

Aunty called Dinny to send afu r you, and so I told

her which way you went, and that I'd go."
" That's a good boy, Patsey," said his father, pat-

liag his head, " never do anything that you think

IHIORANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

881

bs of tbe oities, wfaer*
want of pure air, and,
et into all sorts of ugly
d company they fall in
they see wherever they
d I get a-thinking of all
t them for being blind -
1 almost deny them for
again, when I come to
't them that's in fiviilt, it
icity, and sometimes, I
ms. But here'd Patsey,
rhat'd the matter ?"
lardly draw his breath,
-to tell you — to tell you
Ihe wants you home — as

\, how did you find us

ing on the little hill near
n, and sometimea I fu't

said bis nncle, laughing

ncle, but I thought you
staid where I was, till
afttr yon, and so I tolJ

id that I'd go."

ley," said his father, pat-

nything that you think

woald displease your father or mother, or your
uncle or aunt."

" Why, father," said Patsey, lowering his voice
somewhat, " only think! Dinny tells me that no boy
round about here would keep company with any
one that disobeyed father or mother — he says a boy
that did that would be called a black sheep. A'nt
it queer, father?"

" Not a bit, Patsey, not a bit," said his father,
endeavoring to conceal his exultation ; " that's the
way it is amongst Christians everywhere. At
home in Ireland, such a thing is hardly ever heard
of as children, either boys or girls, turnin' their
tongue on their parents. If they did they'd be
made an example of. Mind now and be nice and
mannerly when the priest speaks to you. Don't
forget who he is 1"

Patsey then fell behind to join Con who was
walking on alone thinking of the almost measureless
distance which lay between him and those he loved
the best. Patsey, however, was too full of his own
subject to pay mcch attention to the other's ab«
straoted air.

•' Well, now. Con, a'nt it queer ?' he began.

"What?" demanded Con, in a half-oonscioua
tone.

" Why, there's Dinny, the herd-boy, has jest bin
a telling me that boys musn't dare talk back to
father or mother here. It seems none of the boyi

838

CON o'kwjam ; OK,

hereabout, would play with a feller that did, foi
that it breaks the foaith commandment.'

«' Well ! and what is there strange in that ? said
Con, now much interested in the subject; "didn't
you know before Dinny told you, that it was very
wrong, and a great sin, to disobey either of your

^" 0? yes, I heard it," said Patsey, with a careless
toss of his head, " but I didn't mind-it was father
and mother that told me, and you know theyd say
it anyhow, but then Jake Hampton and all the
others said it was all moonshine, and that a father
or mother had no right to flog a feller because he
happened to be their son. They said there was no
law for it, and that no boy need stand it, if he
hadn't a mind to. I guess they were about right
after all, and I'm real sorry I ever came here at all
—I am '.—Jake Hampton wanted me not to, and if
I was only back again, you'd never catch me in
such a place, I tell you."

«' Why, Patsey '." cried Con, in amaBement, l
thought you were gettiag ever so good, and would
never be a bad, disorderly boy again !"

"Oh! that's all a sham," was Patsey's quick
responoe ; " I wanted to * uncle, you know, and so
I jest made believe that I meant to do what they d
tell me for the time to come, but I guess I'll be off
from here when I get the chance, and go back to
Jake Hampton. But mind you don't tell, Con 1" h«

; OK,

1 a feller thai did, foi
imandment."
B strange in that ?" «a>d
in the subject; "didn't
. you, that it was very
disobey either of your

1 Patsey, with a careless
In't mind— it was father
ad you know they'd say
Hampton and all the
shine, and that a father
flog a feller because he
They said there was no
toy need stand it, if he
I they were about right
y I ever came here at all
ranted me not to, and if
ou'd never catch me in

Con, in amaeement, " I
ever so good, and would

boy again !"

m," was Patsey's quick

> uncle, you know, and sr

meant to do what they'd
ne, but I guess I'll be off
16 chance, and go back to
d you don't tell, Con 1" h«

BMIORANT LirtS IN THE KRW WORM).

S89

quickly added, «' if you do — I shan't ever forgive
yon — that's all I"

They were now at the door, so Con merely
nodded as he followed the precocious urchin into
the house.

Father Doran was seated near the fire in a high-
backed chair of rustic fashion. He was a man in
the decline of life, but still hale and hearty, as any
one might see at a glance from the healthy hue of
his weather-darkened features and the quick intelli-
gence of his clear grey eyes, gleaming, or rather
beamiog, in the shade of thick and rather bnshy
eyebrows. There was no great polish perceptible
in Father Doran's manner, but there was that about
him which commanded respect and anfliciently in-
dicated the clergyman and the man of education.
Still, from his constant association with the farming
classes, he had either acquired or assumed a certain
blunt, direct way of speaking, which, together with
a dash of drollery, made him quite a favorite with
the people who respected and adt .ired his virtues
as a priest and as a man. He bad already made the
acquaintance of Nora and her children, with the ex-
ception of Patsey, and, after a few words of cordial
welcome to Con and Paul, who were introduced by
Felix, he bold out bis hand to the boy, who took
good care to obtain a prominent position.

" How do you do, my little man? I'm glad to sea
you in Iowa. What's your name V*

340 coi* o'keoan ; or,

«' Folks call me Patsey, but my name is Patrick—
Patrick Bergen."

" Well ! Patrick, you have a good name, at all
events— the best name an Irishman or an Irish boy
cotdd have. I hope you will be a credit to your

name." ^

Patsey hastened to set the priest right. " Bat 1

a'nt an Irish boy— I was born in B "

'« Oh 1 ho 1" said the priest, who began to smell a
rat, as Judy afterwards said ; " so you're not Irish,
•h? Then they had no business to call you Patrick,
and I wouldn't put up with it if I were you."

«« I don't mean to," said Patsey, eagerly, com-
pletely deceived by the ironical gravity of the good
priest; "when I come to be a man I'll have folks
call me a prettier name."

" Oh ! you will, eh ?— and what name will you

take, my little fellow ?" . i -a

«' Well I I ha'nt right made up my mind," said

Patsey, with quite a meditative aii ; " I ga«B8

Washington's about the best "

"Or Parker," suggested the priest, gravely {
«« wouldn't that go well— Parker Bergen, eh ?"

"First-rate!" cried the boy, clapping his hands
in high glee, but his pleasurable excitement was
only of short duration, for his father, unable to bear
ft any longer, suddenly caught him by the back of
the neck, and, giving him a good hearty shake, told
him to go about his business, or he'd give him
Parker Bergen on a place where he wouldn't like iu

OB,

my name is Patriek—

a good uame, at all

hntan or an Irish boy

be a credit to your

priest right. " Bat I

in B »

I who began to emell a

" 80 you're not Irish,
iBS to call you Patrick,
, if I were you."
Patsey, eagerly, com-
;al gravity of the good
( a man I'll have folks

[ what name will you

,de up my mind," said
itative aii ; " I gnesa

the priest, gravely;
rker Bergen, eh ?"
»oy, dapping his hands
lurable excitement was
is father, unable to bear
[ht him by the back of
good hearty shake, told
Qess, or he'd give him
here he wouldn't like iu

EMIORAKr UfR !N THE NBW WORLD.

Zit

patsey slunk away confounded and ashamed, while
Lis father hastened to apologize to the priest.

"I hope your reverence will excuse him," said he,
" on account of the bad way we had heretofore of
hringin' him up. He was most of his time on the
streets, sir, for when I was away at my work his
poor mother couldn't be runnin' after him, an' I
needn't tell you what sort of company he fell in

with on the streets of B . Still, I hope in Qod .

he's not so far gone but what he can b« reclaimed,
when he's away from bis former companions an' in
a place where he can always have something to
do."

"Never fear, Paul, never fear!" said Father
Doran, cheerfully, " he's the making of a fine manly
fellow, and you'll not be long here till you see a
great change in him. For my part, I am not the
least surprised to hear him talk so. It was just as
natural for him to imbibe such notions from the ele-
ments by which he was surrounded as it is for a fish
to learn to swim. Your other children se^m quiet
and docile."

" Indeed they are, your reverence," put in Nora,
eagerly ; " though I say it, they're good children—
that's Janie and Jim here, an' the poor fellow we
lost, too, he was a different boy from Patsey, alto-
gether, an' wasn't half so hard to manage. The only
thing we had again him was that he was too fond
of the streets, an' ooh ! ooh I sure it was that that
brought him to his end-— farcer gar, it was I"

t4l

CON o'riegan ; or,

After administering a few kind words of consola-
tion to poor Nora, Father Doran turned to onf
friend Con and inquired whether he was married ^r
Bingle, what family he had, and other such questions,
to all of which Con gave short, direct answers, dis-
playing so much good sense and good manners that
the priest began to regard him with anasnal interest.
Pressing his inquiries a little farther, he gradually
drew oat the history of Con's good fortune, and
heard his account of Winny, " the best of sisters,"
as the brother fondly called her. All this was highly
satisfactory, and served to raise the young man still
higher in the estimation of his new pastor.

"Well, Con," said he, rising from his seat, " I am
very glad to see you here ! it is just such men as you
•we want to found new colonies in these magnificent
regions : men who will hand down to their children
the Christian virtues and the Christian faith pure
and unsullied as they came to them from their pious
ancestors. Mrs. Bergen, I should like to retire for
a while to read my office, if you will secure me from
invasion."

" But, dear bless me, Father Doran, sure yon must
first get something to eat. I have a nice chicken
cooking there in the oven, and it'll be dore in less
than no time. After that you can be as quiet as
you like— not a soul I'll let in on yon if it was the
governor himself."

»' Excuse me, my worthy hostess,' said the priest,
With a emile, «' I shall bo through before your chicken

; OR,

ind words of oonsola-
Doran turned to oar
her he was married or
\ other such questions,
•t, direct answers, dis-
nd good manners that
I with anasnal interest.
B farther, he gradually
n's good fortune, and
, " the best of sisters,"
sr. All this was highly
ise the young man still
IS new pastor,
g from his seat, " I am
is just such men as you
es in these magnificent
down to their children
le Christian faith pure
) them from their pious
hould like to retire for
'ou will secure me from

sr Doran, sure you must
I have a nice chicken
nd it'll be dore in less
^ou can be as quiet as
in on you if it was the

liostess,-' said the priest,
ugh before your chicken

IJOGRANT l.irS IN THE MKW WORLD.

343

is cooked. What I have to read now will not keep
me long, and then I can pay my respects to your
bill of fare."

In the course of the evening, when it drew near
sun down, one and another began to drop in to go
to confession. The m^n were all in their Avorking
clothes, having merely taken time to wash hands
and face and make tbeir hair somewhat smooth.
Amongst the twelve ' fifteen who arrived in suc-
cession there were some of all ages and of both
sexes, all more or less collected in their demeanor.
Last of all came in Thac'y Landrigan, and Con could
not help saying to him in a tone of surprise : " Why
I thought you were to be some miles away at work

to-day !"
" Well ! and sure so I was I— what of that ?'
«' Why, nothing, only I didn't expect to see yon
here this evening— that's all I"

" Oh ! I Bee," said Thady, forgetting for the mo-
ment his gravity and recollection; "I see what
you're up to. I suppose you thought me such a
wild, harum-scarum fellow, that I wouldn't think of
kneeling under a priest. But I'm not quite so bad
as you seem to take mo for. God forgive me, I
was a scapegrace long enough, and it's little comfort
the poor mother there had with me,»' pointing as he
spoke to a comfortably-clad old woman whose sil-
very hairs gave dignity to her mien as they showed
from under a dose-bordered cap and a ne»t black
ulk bonnet. The look of affectionate pride which

344

CON o'rBGAM ; OR,

Booompanied these words were not lost on Con, M
Thady proceeded : " Bat that was when I was loaf-
ing about in the cities, watching for a day's work,
and keeping— not the best company, in my leisure
hoars, you may be sme—then I couldn't bear the
thoughts 01 going to my duty, and many a battle
my mother and me had about it, but now, thank
God ! it comes as easy to me as if I was only saying
my prayers."

The room door ndw opened, and one penitent
coming out another went in, whereupon Thady, per-
ceiving that his turn was drawing near, applied him-
self again to his book and his self-examination.
However much Con might have been inclined to re-
flect on what he had just heard, he was fain to ban-
ish all such distractions from his mind for that time,
as he, too, was preparing for confession. Still, he
could not help saying to himself aa he turned the
leaves of his prayer-book :

" If it was oat here poor Tom Derragh had spent
his ten years what a di6Ferent man he'd be now !—
and even such lads as Smith or Houlahan— would
they have been as they are if they had been brought
up in a quiet country-place, among their own peo-
ple ?" The answer was a heavy sigh from the depth
of his own heart.

Next morning. Father Doran's little chapel wa«
crowded with earnest simple worshippers, and as
Con O'Regan looked around from the grey-haired
l>riest at the alUr to the men, women, and ohUdren,

OR,

B not lost on Con, M
was when I was loaf*
ng for a day's work,
ainpany, in my le'uure
n I couldn't bear the
ty, and many a battle
at it, but now, thank
as if I was only saying

led, and one penitent
nrhereupon Thady, per-
ving near, applied bim-
bis self-examination.
iVfl been inclined to re-
rd, he was fain to ban-
bis mind for that time,
r confession. Still, he
iself as he turned the

om Derragh had spent
1 man he'd be now ! —
1 or Houlahan — would
' they had been brought
among their own peo-
ivy sigh from the depth

•ran's little chapel was
lie worshippers, and as
1 from the grey-haired
1, women, and obildreo,

KUIGRANT LIFE IN THK NKW WOBI.D.

849

who composed the congregation, some telling their
beads devoutly, and others poring intently over the
pages of their well worn prayer-books, he could al-
most fancy himself at home in his own parish, with
Father Halligan saying Mass. There was nothing
strange in the scene, but ever\ thing home-like and
familiar. Tlie very bareness of the walls and th«
poverty of the place made it more like his own
chapel of Ballymullen, and the very light as it pen*
etrated through the high, narrow windows on either
side, had a softened mellow hue that reminded
him of the hazy sunshine of his own dear land.
Near him knelt Paul and Nora Bergen, and he
could see that they, too, were carried back into the
tranquil past, for Paul's bluff face had a serious yet
softened look far different from its wonted charac-
ter, and Nora's mild eyes were filled with tears as
they rested on the colored engravicg, one side of
the altar, representing St. Patrick on the hill of
Howth banishing the snakes and toads which crawl
in ugly motion around his feet.*

Before Father Doran set out that afternoon to
return to his distant dwelling, he presided at the
hospitable board of Felix Bergen, Judy having got

♦ This legend U of rather an apocryphftl charactor, yet oona-
ing down to us with the stamp of antiquity, U i.i Hula wo .der
that the people — the simple and the unlearned— give it im<
p<ic!l credence. There is erery reason to auppoie that the
absence of Tenomoos reptiles In Ireland is owing to some p<x
c«liar quality in the toil.

t4«

CON o'ncoAN ; on,

up » twelve o'clock dinner for the priest. A few of
the oldest and most respectable of the neighV)or8
were kept for dinner, and Felix would have Invited
double the nunaber had there been any possibility of
Beating bo large a company with even tolerable com-
fort to themselves.

As soon as dinner was over Father Doran said
grace, and then stood up from the table, observing
that there were some of his parishioners to meet him
at five o'clock, on business, so that ho was obliged to
leave sooner than he would wish. No one could
think of staying a moment at the table after the
priest left, so, notwithstanding divers winks and
nods from Felix, the company all pushed back their
chairs and manifested an intention to " be on the

move."

As Father Doran passed out through the kitchen,
accompanied by Felix, he encountered Patsey, who
was sitting on the floor amusing the baby, Janie
being occupied waiting on the guests. Great as the
priest's hurry was he could not pass without putting
a few questions to the boy, in whom he felt some-
what interested.

"Do you know your catechism, Patrick?"

«' My catechism !" repeated Patsey, looking up in
Bur prise ; then, as he slowly took in the meaning of
the question, he replied with much coolness :

" Yes, I guess I know some of it. Mother mads
me learn it to home Sunday evenings."

"And did you not learn it in Church, or in school f*'

OR,

the priest. A few of
»ble of the neighV)or8
X would have Invited
been any possiVtility of
th even tolerable com-
er Father Doran said
n the table, observing
rishioners to meet him
that ho was obliged to
wish. No one could
at the table after the
ng divers winks and
r all pushed back their
tention to " be on the

ut through the kitchen,
countered Patsey, who
lusing the baby, Janie
e guests. Great as the
ot pass without putting
in whom he felt some-

ihism, Patrick ?"

d Palsey, looking up in

took in the meaning of

I much coolness :

ue of it. Mother mad*

evenings."

in Churob, or in school I*'

KMIQRANT I.IFK IN THE SEW WORLD.

841

«• Oh no 1" and Patsey laughed lightly ; " there
wan't any catechism taught in sohool, and I hardly
ever went to Church to catechism."

" And why not?" said the priest, with a winning
smile, and speaking in the soilest tone he oould
command.

The child looked up for a moment as if to examine
the countenance of his interrogator, then, probably
encouraged by what he saw there, he hastily replied :

" Well, I don't mind telling you, 'cause I know
you'll not tell father or mother. You see Jake
Hampton and al'. the boys used to wait for me
Sunday afternoons at the corner jest below our
house— you know that corner, don't you?— well,
they'd have always something on hands just then,
and they couldn't git along no how without me,
and when I'd tell them that I was a-going to cate-
chism they'd all laugh so that I used to feel real
bad, and so they'd take me along wherever they
wanted to go, and I'd forget all about the catechism
till it was jest time to go home, and then I'd run
ever so fast to git home in time, and mother never
knew but what I was at Church. Poor Jake
Hampton I" added Patsey, with a deep-drawn sigh,
" I wonder how he gits along now when he ha'nt
me to go with him ? He's a brick, is Jake Hamp>
ton, every inch of him I"

" Would you like to go to sohool, Patsey ?" de-
manded the priest, after regarding the boy with a
pitying look for a few seconds.

IMS

OON o'rroan ; OR,

•'To Bohool!" cried Patsey, with iodigaant em-
phasis; " I guess not ! There a'nt any schools out
here fit to go to. Jake Hampton said so."

" Oh ! never mind what Jake Hampton said," re-
joined the priest, with his cool, satirical smile ; " I'll
have you a good school, soon, depend upon it, where
'the catechism shall be taught, and where you will
learn to be a good boy, and grow up a good man.
Good-bye, Patsey, my boy ! I hope to hear a good
account of you when I come again."

Fdix had gone out at the commencement of this
little dialogue, and now appeared at the fiont door
with the priest's horse. Independent landowner
as Felix Bergen was, he considered it a high honor
to wait upon Father Doran, so high, indeed, that he
oould never be prevailed upon to lei Dinny or any
one else do for him anything that he could do.

" And why wouldn't I ?" he used to say ; " isn't it
jroud and happy I am to have a place for his reve-
rence to stop in, and good stabling for his horse T
Isn't it a great honor entirely for a poor' ignorant
man like me to have the Lord's anointed under my
roof?" So, on this principle, both Felix and Judy
thought they never could do half enough for his
reverence, in return for the high and distinctive honor
his presence conferred upon them.

Most of the guests left soon after the priest, as
many of them had a long way to go, but Mrs. Lan-
drigan and her son were prevailed upon to stay foi
the evening, as also Pat Mollins. The latter attaohed

; OR,

r, with indignant em*
e a'nt any gchools ont
pton said so."
ike Hampton said," re-
al, satirical smile; "I'll
, depend upon it, where
It, and where you will

grow up a good man.
I hope to hear a good
again."

commencement of this
ared at the fiont door
dependent land-owner
jidered it a high honor
BO high, indeed, that he
on to let Dinny or any

that he could do.
16 used to say ; " isn't it
ive a place for his reve-
Btabling for his horse?
■ely for a poor' ignorant
d's anointed under my
e, both Felix and Judy
do half enough fur his
,gh and distinctive honor
them.

oon after the priest, as
'ay to go, but Mrs. Lan-
ivailed upon to stay foi
ins. The latter Attaohed

BMIOnAS'T I.irR IN THR SKW W»1Rt.D.

349

himself to Con, who was much amused by his quaint
drollery. His couuin Thady was usually the butt of
Lis harmless raillery, but on this occasion he " kept
his tongue off him," as he said to Con, " on account
of his being at communion in the morning. I never
spare him at other limes," obaerved Pat, " for, to tell
the truth, he's such a good-hearted slob of a fellow
that he never takes it ill, no matter what I say to him,
but, of coorse, I can't be carrying on to-day with him
as I would at another time."

" What's the matter with your hand, Thudy ?"
said Mrs. Felix Bergen; "I see you have it tied up
there."

" Oh ! it's only a scratch," said Thady, carelojsly,
" nothing worth speaking of."

"Why, now, listen to what he says!" cried his
mother, who was smoking her pipe in Felix's his;h-
backed chair in the chimney corner; "indeed, JAra.
Bergen dear, it's bad enough it is with him. He has
a very sore hand entirely."
« And how did ho get it, at all ?"
" Why, you see, he was down with a lot of the
boys at widow Moran's, puttin' up a barn for the
crature, as she has no man-body to help her, au' it
was iu the dusk of the evenin' they were doin' it,
after their work was over at home ; so poor Thady
ther« was cutliu' at a wedge with a big knife, and
what would you have of it, ma'am, but the knife
slipped a one side, an' gave him a terrible cut. I'm
afeard it'll be a haod to him this many a day."

850

CON o'rkgan ; OR,

•'Pooh, pooh, mother, you're always so easy
frightened," said Thady, with a look of affectionate
reproach; "please God, I'll be able to give Paul
Bergen a hand at the putting up of his house a
Thursday next. There's nothing the matter with
my hand but what a couple of days will cure.",

"Not a hand or hand you'll give me, Thady,
all day a Thursday T' put in Paul ; " you must just
keep quiet till that hand gets well— such things are
not to be played with, I can tell you !"

" Well, at any rate," said Thady, " if Pm not able
to help you on Thursday, which, please God, I will,
you'll have to put off the job till tiie week after, for
I promised to give you a hand, and I will, too, if
I'm a living man."

" Well ! well ! Thady, anything at all to please
yon," said Felix, jocosely; "I know of old that
you'd have your own way, no matter what oomes
or goes. But, tell me this, Pat Mullins— did you
ever hear from that foolish brother-in-law of yours
since he went away ? I always forgot to ask you."
"Hear from him!" cried Pat, with a sudden
change of manner ; " is it him to write a scrowl to
any one, the graceless vagabond !— oh, no! thero
isn't that much good in him. He went back to
Philadelphy, you know, against the advice of his fa-
ther and mother, though I seen them myself as good
as goin' down on their knees to him not to go, but
the divil had too fast a grip of him to let him be
said 0/ led by them that was for his good, and, if

KMIORANT MFB IN THE N«W WORLD,

851

[ ; OR,

you're always so easy
Lh a look of affectionate
il be able to give Paul
ling up of his house a
othing the matter with

of days will cure.".

you'll give me, Thady,
1 Paul ; " you must just
its well — such things are
1 tell you !"

Thady, " if I'm not able
irhich, please God, I will,
b till the week after, for

hand, and I will, too, if

nyth'.Bg at all to please
; "I know of old that
, no matter what comes
s, Pat MuHins — did you
I brother-in-law of yours
ways forgot to ask you."
ed Pat, with a sudden
him to write a scrowl to
gabond ! — oh, no ! there
him. He went back to
ainst the advice of his fii-
seen them myself as good
ees to him not to go, but
rip of him to let him be
was for hit good, and, if

you please, it's what he mtde game of the old con
pie, and tould them not to fret about him, for that
if he wasn't back in three weeks he'd write. — You
know the cant word people used to have at home. —
Poor Phelim and N«rry ! they never raised their
heads since, nor won't, till they go to their graves,
let that be long or short. Ah ! God isn't in heaven,
or that fellow will be made an example of before
ever he leaves this world."

" God send he mayn't !" said Felix, with deep feel-
ing; " I wouldn't be in his place for a mint o' money."

"Nor I neither," observed Thady; " ihe wildest
day ever I was I could never go the length of that,
though, God knows, I was bad enough. However,
it was the best of Lanty's play to clear off from hero
if he meant to carry on in that way, for no decent
boy round here would have anything to say to him
while he made so little of his parents. None of us
cared much about him at the best, for we used to
think there was something very light in him. He
could never content himself here, either, but was al-
ways jibing at everything he saw, and had no respect
for any one !"

Patsey was sitting m the corner beyond Mrs.
Landrigan listening to this conversation, with eyes
and month wide open. Turning eagerly from one
to the other of l4ie speakers, he swallowed every
word, and when Thady had concluded this last
speech, ho drew a long breath, and looking round
met his mother's eyes fixed full upon him. Blush-

tst

COM O'KBOAW ; OR,

ing like scarlet, the little fellow Blank farther inte
bis corner, and Nora nudged her husband, who sat
near her, and made a sign for him to look at Patsej,
A glance of joyful meaning revealed to each the
hopes which both began already to entertain. If
all this did not make an impression on Patscy'i
mind, then nothing ever could.

tl
'1

it
fi

ii:
w
li)
tl
t(
r(
tl
in

; OR,

tow slunk farther int«
her hnsband, who sat

him to look at Patse j.
revealed to each the

eady to entertain. If

mpression on Patsey'i

■moiUNT LIFE FN THK NKW WJBLD.

853

CHAPTER XX.

Thbbb years had passed away since Con O'Regan
and his friends heard their first Mass in Iowa. Many
more homesteads dotted the smiling face of the
prairie, and amongst them were two owned respec-
tively by Paul Lergen and Con O'Regan. In the
shade of the clump of maples stood the small but
comfortable cottage put up for Con in the course of
the first year by the ready and willing hands of
Thady Landrigan and his " neighbor boys." Round
it spread the rich and well-tilled fields, already care-
fully inclosed, where a succession of crops was in
progress the whole year round. It was the begin-
ning of May, and in that mild climate, the oats, and
corn, and wheat were already above ground, while
ill one portion of a large field, the early potatoes
were raising their dark-green tops, in promise of a
luxuriant harvest. In a pen at a short distance from
the house were some three or four first-rate hogs fat-
tening to kill, while several others of inferior size
roamed at will, regaling themselves on the mud of
llie farmyard. A htodsome young horse was frisk-
ing and gambolling in a pasture close by, in company

j5^ cos o'bkgan ; or,

with three or four good milch cows. BcW the
house was a garden of moderate 8,ze, planted ha f
^ZZy pofatoes. and in the farther corner partly
Udden at that noontide hour by the deep shade ol
;« neighboring trees, was Con l;i-elf hard at wor.
planting cabbages, or, as he would say him If, P ^
Lg down plants." And within doors, all was Ide
and animation. A fair young matron, small, and
neat and tidy, was moving lightly about prepares
the mid-duy meal, whose savory odor scented all he
air within and around the house. Two prelt,
children were seated on low stools near the firo en
joying with much apparent relish the soup which
iheir mother had just dealt out to them. Phes
three were " Biddy and the children," so often talked
of, and BO long expected. But where was Winny,
our earliest acquaintance of all the OKegans?-
.vhere but in her brother's corner, with a piece of
needlework in her hand, and a very handsome grey
pussy purring and dozing on her knee. And Win-
ny's face was no longer pale, nor her eyes no longer
Bad and downcast, as she raised them to her sister-
in-law's face with a happy smile.

"Well, now, Biddy 1" said she, laying down her
work for the moment on pussy's back, "well, now,
Biddy, I'd give a trifle of my own to know who that
Bchoolmaster is that Father Doran's getting < nt.
His reverence is keeping it mighty close, though he
gives us a hint now and then that we'U bo glad to
Bee him when he comes."

r ; OR,

lilcb cows. Beliiud tho
lerate size, planted half
the farther corner, partly
5ur by the deep shade of
3on himself hard at work
would say himself, " pot-
within doors, all was life
)ung matron, small, and
r lightly about preparing
ivory odor scented all the
be house. Two pretty
)W stools near the firo en-
nt relish the soup which
jalt out to them. These
3 children," so often talked
But where w^as Winny,

of all the O'llegans?-
i'b corner, with a piece of
and a very handsome grey
T on her knee. And Win-
ale, nor her eyes no longer
I raised them to her eister-
r smile,
said she, laying down her

pussy's back, " well, now,
• my own to know who that
ither Doran'a getting out.

it mighty close, though he

then that we'U bo glad to

KMrOP.AXT UFK IN THE .VEW WORLD.

855

"Oh I k'8 all plain enough to me," replied Biddy,
who rather piqued herself on her clear-sightodness ;
'* he's getting him out from somewhere near our own
place at home. I'd wager a trifle, Winny dear, th.at
It's ould Dominick Shannon that was teachin' school
for Father Staunton, when Con lefl home, np at Kil-
lorgan. He was doing nothing when I came out
only goin' from one f trmer'a house to another teach-
in' the children afler hours. As sure as anythin<v
It's him that Father Doran is gettin' out, for I was
talkin' to liim myself about him !"

" Well ! I don't know, I'm sure," said Winny, with
a thoughtful air, "but I wish he was come at any
rate, for the children round here are badly in want
of him. Not but what Oormac Dillon does his host
with them, but that" isn't much, poor man I for he
hasn't the learning himself. Still ho teaches them to
read and write."

"And teaches them their catechism, too," observ-
ed Biddy, "and their prayers, and sure that itself is
a great thing. Run out, Micky," to her eldest child,
"and call your father— he must be in need of his din-
ner by this time !"

" Did you hear the news ?' said Con, as he washed
his hands in preparation for dinner.

" No !' said one, and " no !" said the other ; " what
•n the world is it?"

" Why, the new schoolmaster is at Dubuque.
Father Doran sent word for a conple of as to go
out with wagons for him and his family.'*

g,g ■ COK o'REr.AN ; OB,

know wboheis?' a « „v,v bow wouU yo"

.. You I" cried ber busbaod, wby, uow

know, Biddy ^^^^J^^J' -^ Biddy, wilb a Baga-

.. Ob! never mmd ibat, B^xa d y^
ciou« nod of ber little bead I know an

,„o«gb. A.k W-/J^ J^^^^^^ ,,,ed and said, " I
Con looked at bis "s^e'^ '" g^^^ ^^^^^^ it's

,ave only ber <>-j;;^J:/:eacb tbe KiUorgau
Dominick Sbannou tbat usea lo

Bobool." 1. uonriilv "Youmigbt joBt

Tbis made C-^^-|^X^Lelf out ber'e." -aid

as well expect to bee Slie>eueg u

l,e. " as old Dc^minick Sh'«Hion ^^ ^^^^ ,

'..Well! well!" persisted Biddy, tim

You'll see wbetber you or I'm r.gbt. But are y

going to Dubuque Con r ^^^^^

ii I believe not, iben, for l:'ani oeyg*"
1 Deu«v . enougb, * elix

f *T;m wTpula .«t to Uvo to .^o„
^ f «f them plants I'm putting down. Witu

,i„oe w. fir.t came out here ^ ^^,_^

KMIflRAMT LIFE IN THR NEW WOrXD.

851

ncBt, Con," said bi>
the hour in the en-^
g. "well, I tWDlt I

why, bow wouU yo»

a Biddy, wilb a saga-
"I know and thai'*

io smiled and said, »'!

ar it. She thinks it'a
to teach the KiUorgau

.ily. " You inigbt just
!g itself out here," said

on." , ,, ,

Biddy, " time wiU tell .
tQ right. But are you

aul Bergen and Tommy
d that's enough, Felix
led not to have to go on
a putting down. With
Bhed to-morrow. Glory
tered times with us all,
,at it's only three years

e!"

^inoy, in her soft, calm
,d on the small but neat
, which they wore assem-

bled, and then glanced out through the window al
the fresh and tufled foliage of t!ie trees through
which the sunbeams were now struggling; "dear
knows, Con! I often think and think of it till it
seems to fade away into a dream. Often and often
when I take the children out for a run on the
pasture, and sit down with my knitting or sewing
under one of the trees abroad, I f<iel the tears
coming into my eyes, not tears of sorrow, you may
be sure, but my heart is so full of peace, and I'm so
happy and so contented. Everything looks so quiet
all around and the church and the priest's new
house just in sight, and all the houses as far as I can
see belongin' to friends and acquaintances — ah !
Con," she added, and her voice faltered with emo-
tion, " ah. Con ! if our poor mother was only alive
now, how happy we could make her here ! But
sure," and she wiped away a tear, " but sure I hope
she's happier even than we are. May the Lord
receive her soul in glory !"

"Amen!" responded Con and Biddy, and for a
few moments nothing more was said. The mention
of the beloved and lamented dead raised the
thoughts of all for a brief space from the narrow
sphere around them. Memory was busy with the
brother and sister, at least, as they fondly thought
of the mother they had lost. But there was no
bitterness in their feelings. Time had softened
down the grief of eaob, and they could look back
with mournful pleasure on the long-vanished years

158 cos o'rkoan ; on,

»hen their little circle revolved round that precious
centre, a loving and heloved-a Christian mother

.. Well, after all," Baid Biddy, blessing herself and
riBin- from the table, " there's no use frettia about
thenTthat's gone. It'll be our own turn o"e ^^eJ
another, and God grant we may be as well prepared

'''•'DoXyou think, Con," said Winny, " that wo
ougbt to have a letter from Mr. Coulter by th.a
time ?-how long is it now since you sent him that

money ?" „ ^ u ■«.

<. Why, indeed, it's long enough for me to have
had an answer, I'm beginnin' to be real uneasy for
fear my letter went astray. But sure it could n,
after all, for Father Doran directed it for me with
his own hand, and, of course, he put on the right di-

rection." . .

"Oh' there's not the least danger of it going
astray-l'm sure of that," said Winny, "but some-
how I'm afraid there's some reason for Mr. Coulter
not writing. There's something wrong, you may
depend upon it, or he wouldn't be this loiig without
answering your letter. I hope in God heB not

sickl" ^ , i. u t.

A shade of anxiety passed over Con's face, but
he affected to laugh at Winny's fears. " Well, now,
Winny, that's you all over. You're always frettin
about something. Ill engage Mr. Coulter's as well
as any of us here. What would ail Lim, I want to
knowt But this will never do for me! Come along

(
(
1

J
g
h
d
w
ni
fr

K
g(

ra
ko
etf
ho
no
loc
onl
me
ing

OB,

a roand that preciona
a Christian mother,
jr, blessing herself and
i no use frettin' about
• own turn one day or
ly be as well prepared

laid Winny, " that wo
I Mr. Coulter by thi»
noe you sent bim that

aough for me to have
a' to be real uneasy for
But sure it couldn't,
lirected it for me with
he put on the right di-
nt danger of it going
lid Winny, " but some-
reason for Mr. Coulter
thing wrong, you may
n't be this long without
hope in God he's not

ed over Con's face, but
ly's fears. " Well, now,
You're always frettin'
ige Mr. Coulter's as well
urould ail him, I want to
do for mo I Come along

KMIGRA.VT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD. 85^

"hade '. ' Thf :??; "^"•''-•-y- «- Pl^y in the
Shade. The children were glad of the Invitation,
and scampered off in search of their straw hats
o^tLnSs.'^^'^^°'*^P'*^*«^^-^'--ithhe;

Although Con did not say so to Winny, he began
To. h' '^Vr''^'""^ had really happened to Mr.
nfLr J' '. '' "'^' '' ^" '^""•'^"^ '^'^^ evening,
Offil . ? ' '''''^ '"'' °^«''' *° SO to the Pos
Office, which was about two miles distant. There

tJT, \m "" ^'■°'" ^^^ ^'°^ benefactor, which
JUS fied, while It relieved, all his fears. The old
gentleman had received Con's letter, and had duly

dollar- TT V-" "'''" '^' ^""^ of a hundred
dollars enclosed m it. For himself, he said he

would have acknowledged its receipt sooner, weie it

not that he had had an alarming fit of aiopllxy

And tell Wmny,- he added, "that Dr. Richards
got his dismissal from the house. I managed that
point anyhow, sick as I was, for I never ifked the
rascal since a certain affair took place. You do not
know what I mean, Con, but Winny knows well
etfough. I know you'll be all frightened to hear of
how near going I was, but, for the present, there's
no more danger, the doctor says. I suppose I may
look out for the next attack, but, meanwhile, I mast
only drive dull care away. 'Eat, drink, and be
merry, for to-morrow you die'-that's the handwrit-
tag on the wall, you see. Pooh ! pooh I what am I

CON o'kioan ; OB,

'° for I fo"-l «»' '-"S "8° ""' ''" ?n!

Diri.u'.n.o>.g ,ou to expound A. .n.8".« »' *•
Hoi. Book. Talking of ih.t, I wM making »
fuiLaometimoagofor ,our friend D-,.r--w«>
r"th.r..am.lib«tlo«n.dand.ou.ceoh,n>^

"r.: r /on>tiri.:; it -- ,ou

,„u and Wion,-in your ho"" of daikne..-.J ■ »"d
Tonr Mo wifl, too, .ben ah. found tbat ,ou worn
her. before ber, and I wonld gi.e '""""^JB w "J
,„„ a, ,„„ are now Ti... pUa- , boweve^^I
I Bhall never enjoy. Never-never . « .
mind, I'll live as long as I can and when I must go
I .appose I must, and there's an end of t. Mrs.
CouUer made a great fuss about ibe state of my
S « Bhe called'it, and wonld insist on my havmg
IrvL to pray with me, but I cut her pretty shor
T tin vou I never gave in to cant or hypocrisy all
U Ufe and I mean t! dieas I have lived ! an honest
^L aid no Bham. When you hear of my death
Co"; be sure that I died just as I tell yo"- -^^"^J
fear or dread. If there be another world (wh cl. I
t ha^Llined to doubt,) why. I am quite w>Uu.g
Tuke my ohanoe in it, for I think I have done my

; OB,

»n 1 I forgot, you Be«,
egan. Well ! afier all,
cripmre than one would

'Dg ago that you have
uud the enigmas of the
bat, I was making in-
cur friend Dwyer— was
)uld find no trace of him.
knows him no more. I

but where he was gone,
all me. Weill I should

happy home which you
M)lorB. I saw you— both
.ursofdarknesa— ay! and
,he found that you wern't
Id give something to see
lat pleasure, however, I
ver— never! But. never
can, and when I must go,
ere'B an end of it. Mrs.
,8 about the state of my
ffould insist on my having
ut I out her pretty short,
in to cant or hypocrisy all
as I have lived ! an honest
en you hear of my death,
just as I tell you, without
be another world, (which I
t,) why, I am quite willing
'or I think I have done my

KMtGRAN'T l.irE IN THE NEW WORLD.

381

duty here. In any case, believe me to be your ain>
oere well wisher, Samcel Codltbr.

" P.S. — My sisters are well, and jogging along
through life, as usual, with Letty at their heels.
Poor Letty got bit lately by some mad preacher — a
Millerite, or something of the kind, and ever since
ray sisters are bored to death with her pious rav-
ings. Still she's about the same good-natured crea-
ture she ever was, and often talks of you and Winny.
My sisters arc well pleased to bear of your doing so
well, and they say you need not have been in such
a hurry sending the money. But / say, you're quite
right to lessen your debt as soon as you oan. If
you made any unnecessary delay — mind I say unne-
cessary— yoa wouldn't be the man I take you for.
Tell Winny that the girls often speak of her, espe-
cially 1 1 lohel, and Mrs. Coulter often admits with
(I think) a remorseful sigh that Winny O'Regan
was a faithful servant. Time for her to find it out,
was it not ?"

By the time Con had finished reading this epistle
the tears were streaming from Winny's eyes. " The
Lord be praised !" she cried, " that Im got over it
this turn anyhow ! It might please G^od to change
bis heart and open his eyes to the truth before he
takes him out of this world. IIow lightly he talk^
of death, poor dear man! — because he knows nolh-
iug of the judgment that's to oom<< after it ! May

152 CON o'keoan ; or,

the Lord save l.im from an ill end ! Ah ! I know-
1 knew there was something wrong with him .

.. And me, too, Winny," said her brother, " thoii^b
I didn't own it. Thanks be to God, things aren t
as bad, after all, as they might be. Sure they say
that apoplexy is mighty dangerous, and takes peo-
ple off very suddenly. I hope the master will
never have another turn of it, though he seems to

dread it." , ,

" Well ! I'd be sorry for anything bad to come on
him," observed Biddy, who had just come in from
milking; " he's a fine onld gentleman, dear knows,
but then he mightn't call me a little wife-I'm sure
it's no disgrace to be little, and I suppose I'm as
well to be seen as them that's far bigger."

Biddy was evidently hurt by the unlucky allusion
in the letter to her diminutive stature, and it took
some reasoning from both Con and Winny to con-
vince her that Mr. Coulter meant nothing but what
was kind. However, she was at length persuaded,
and volunteered a promise to say a pater and ave
every day that Mr. Coulter mightn't b« taken short,
and might get the grace of a happy death.

Knowing that Biddy, though the best and dearest
of wives, and the kindest of sisters, was none of the
most discreet in her conversation. Con took no
notice at that time of the allusion to Dr. Richards,
but the first time he and Winny were alone togeth-
er, he pressed her so close with questions that she
was obliged to tell him the whole affair, and from

,N ; OR,

ill end ! Ah ! I know—
w wrong wilh him !"
aid her brother, " thoirgh
36 to God, things aren't
light be. Sure they say
angerous, and takes peo-
[ hope the master will
f it, though ho seems to

• anything bad to come on
,0 had just come in from
I gentleman, dear knows !
me a little wife— I'm sure
lie, and I suppose I'm aa
lat'fl far bigger."
irt by the unlucky allusion
lutive stature, and it took
ih Con and Winny to con-
ir meant nothing but what
3 was at length persuaded,
ise to say a pcUer and av»
er mightn't bo taken short,
of a happy death,
hough the best and dearest
, of sisters, was none of the
onversation. Con took no
e allusion to Dr. Richards,
I Winny were alone togeth-
)se with questions that she
I the whole affair, and from

IJIIOBANT I.IFK IN THE NRW WORLD.

363

the deep, though suppressed anger which she saw
legibly written on his expressive face, Winny was
very thankful that he heard it then for the first
time.

" Well !" said Con, f>peaking very slowly, " there's
no use talkin' about it now when the rascal is so far
out of my reach, but if I had only known it in time
— well ! I wouldn't wish to hurt him, villain an' all
as he is ! — but I'd have wrung his nose for him, if I
had to go to hia own office to do it !"

"And what good would that have done either
yon or me. Con dear ?" said his sister, mildly ;
"you might only have got yourself into trouble,
and that was the very reason why I never let you
know anything of it. But, never mind Dr. Richards,
Con, I forgive him from my heart, and may God
forgive him! — just come here and look at the sham-
rock — run in, Micky, my pet! and see if your
mother can come out a while!" It was in the
garden, and " the young May moon" was shining in
meridian splendor.

Away ran Micky, who returned in a very few
minutes with his mother by the hand, little Winny
I hanging by her skirt at the other side.

"What's this?" cried Biddy, as she drew near;
I " Micky came for me in a great hurry, sayin' that
I his aunt wanted me."

"And so I do, Biddy dear," and Winny putting
I her arm within hers drew her towards a shady nook,
now illumined by the soft moonlight. " I want t«

i«&sa*yte-pi^!w

3^ CON o'rboan ; o«,

Bhow you how well our shamrock is tbriving."
Now Biddy had brought this shamrock root all the
^ way fiom Ireland, and that at her husband's special
request, so she felt deeply interested in its welfare,
and great was her joy when she found that it had
spread considerably, and wore as bright a green as
though it were still on some Irish bill-side. She
had of late forgotten it altogether, but not so with
Wiony, who had watered and tended it with un-
ceasing care. Even Con had latterly lost sight of
the precious plant, and as Winny happened to be
taking care of Mrs. Landrigan, who wa. seriously
ill when St. Patrick's Day came round, strange to
Bay he never once thought of his native shamrock,
although the day was as well celebiated as Father
Doran's means would permit.

"Well! I declare now, Winny, that's great!" ex-
claimed Biddy, bending fondly over the charmed
spot; " why, I thought it would never grow half so
well 'here as at home, and that I mayn't do an ill
turn! but it's as green as a leek, and greener, too,
for that matter!"

"Well! sure enough, it's a great thing, said
Con, "that we have a rale Irish shamrock growin'
in our garden. I must bring a root of it to Father
Doran the first lima I'm passin' that way. But I
think I'll just take a run over to Paul Beio^u's and
see how they're geltiu' on there. Paul will be
Btartin' to-morrow for Dubuque, and I want to send

EUIORANT LIFE IS THE NEW WORLD.

8«5

OB,

lamrock is thriving."
shamrock root all the
her husband's special
erested in its welfare,
she found that it had
e as bright a green as
e Irish hill-side. She
ether, but not so with
id tended it with un-

I latterly lost sight of
rinny happened to be
an, who wa« seriously
lame round, strange to
f his native shamrock,

II oelebiated as Father

•

inny, that's great !" ex-
idly over the charmed
>uld never grow half so
that I mayn't do an ill
leek, and greener, too,

a a great thing," said
Irish shamrock growin'
g a root of it to Father
lassin' that way. But I
er to Paul Bevo-*''* ^°^
a. there. Paul will be
ique, M»d I want to send

for some little things. Weren't you sayin' yoa
wanted tea, Biddy f"

Biddy did want tea, and sugar, too, and Winny
wanted something else, so Con went off charged
with some half a dosen commissions for Paul. A
few minutes' walk brought him to the end of his
journey, where Paul Bergen's farmhouse stood on
the top of a gentle eminence overhanging a limpid
stream. Behind it were two or three outhouses, a
barn, a stable, and a milkhouse, or dairy, all white
as lime could make them. The house itself stood a
little back from the road, and the space in front
was covered with fresh grass, forming a little
bleach-green, which Nora valued as highly as any
other of her possessions. When Con reached the
low fence which divided Paul's tenement from the
high road, he stopped a moment and leaned over
the little gate, surveying at his leisure the various
features of the scene as they lay calm and bright in
the moonlight. And as he gaied, memory brought
back the cellar in Hope street, where he had first
seen Paul Bergen and his family. He thought of
Nora as he 'hen saw her, shivering over a fireless
stove with a pale, sickly babe in her arms. He
thought of the night of Peter's death, when Paul
sat carousing with his boon companions in one cor-
ner, squandering almost his last shii.ing, while his
child lay gasping and moaning in another, and his
wretched wife watching by her son with a world of
unmitigftted anguish preying on her inmost heart

_tsi,gmmtmt«mMm»mi«'Ms^^imm,

rftP«S«*«?r-MS-;

366

COM o'regan ; OR,

He thought of the little naked children, and the
mother almost as poorly clad, while Paul was
spending hia hard earnings in Phil MeDermotl's
har-room, or some other such Bacchanalian hannt.
And again he looked on the smiling scene before
him — the snug and rather spacious farmhouse with
the fire-light flickering brightly through the kitchen
window, the little patch of grass-plot in front, and
behind, houses full of cattle, and grain, and the va-
rious produce of a fertile and well-tilled farm.
And Con asked himself was all this real ? was Paul
Bergen indeed the owner of all he saw, and a fer-
vent aspiration of gratitude rose from his heart as
he murmured, " yes ! thank God ! he is — Paul owns
every stick and stone of it, and though it's a fine
place and a comfortable place to boot, my own is
not far behind it. The Lord in Heaven be praised
for His wonderful goodness to us."

So aaying, he opened the gate, and then the door,
and entered the house with a " God save all here !"

" Why, then, God save you kindly, is it yourself
that's in it, Con ?" said Nora from her station in the
chimney-corner, where she sat knitting a stocking,
the light from the blazing hearth giving a warm glow
to her comely face and person. On the other side
sat Paul, engaged in fabricating a rod basket.

" It t» myself, and nobody else," replied Con, as he
drew a chair towards the fire; "I heard you were
for going to town to-morrow, Paul, so I just slipped
over with some messages from Biddy. These women

d children, and the
d, while Paul was
Phil McDermoU's
Bacchanalian hannt.
railing scene before
0U3 farmhouse with
through the kitchen
88-plot in front, and
id grain, and the va"
nd well-lilled farm,
this real ? was Paul
M he saw, and a fer-
86 from his heart as
3 1 he is — Paul owns
id though it's a fine
to boot, my own is
n Heaven be praised

U8."

3, and then the door,

God save all here I"

dndly, is it yourself

om her station in the

knitting a stocking,

giving a warm glow

On the other side

; a rod basket.

B," replied Con, as he

"I beard you were

'aul, 80 I just slipped

Jiddy. These women

EMIORANT LIFE IS THE NEW WORLD.

361
Hillo,

are always wanting something, I declare.
Patsey ! what are you about there ?"

"He's learnin' his catechism," said his mother;
" he caa't read very well, you know, but Father
Doran promised him a nice picture if he'd learn a
lesson of it for him between this and Sunday. He a
so busy all day, poor fellow ! workia' out with his
father, that it's only in the evenings I . can get at it."
" Poor Patsey !" said Con, in a tone of mock
sympathy, " he has to work harder here than if he
was still in the city. It's a poor thing, after all, to
livfc in the country. Isn't it, Patsey ?"

«' No, indeed," said Patsey, quickly, " I like the
country far better than the town. Father never
lets me do any work that I'm not able for, and I like
to help him with whatever he's at. I wouldn't go
back now to the city if they were to give me ever
so. Boys like me have got nothing to do there, and
I'd rather be at work."

"And what about Jake Hampton and all the

others?" asked Con, winking at Paul; "wouldn't

you like to see them again ? I thought you meant

to go back to them as soon as you got the chance 1"

" Oh ! I hadn't any sense then," said Patsey, with

a deep blush. " I don't want to see any of them

follows now. They were bad boys, all of them.

Why, Con, if you'd only hear the wicked talk that

they used to have, and how they'd curse and awear

—and there wasn't one of them Irish— not one."

" Well 1 Patsey," said Con, " I'm well pleased to

;■ iBa»iBiMi»a«Mw»K-'

806

CON RKOAN' ; CR,

hear you speak so, for I think they tecre bad boys-^
worse than any you'll ever meet out Ijdre."

"That's because they have nothing to do," said
Patsey ; " they're on the streets most of their time,
you kcow, and they see all sorts of I adness there.
If they were out hoeing and weeding in the field or
in the garden all day as I am, they wouldn't have
half the wickedness in them."

" I can hoe, too !" put in little Jim, who was barely
SQven years old.

" You !" said Con, in affected surprise ; " you don't
say so, Jim ?"

"Yes I can— ask mother if I didn't help her and
Janie to hoe the garden ! — didn't I now, mother ?"

" You did, indeed, my son," and his mother fondly
patted his head where he sat beside her on a low
stool, making a " grenadier's cap" of rushes. " We
could never have got it done without you, Jim, and
your father must bring you a nice new cap to-mor-
row from Dubuque. You're the best little worker
about the house."

" But what about this new schoolmaster," inquir-
ed Con, turning to Paul ; " do you know anything
about him ?"

" Oh ! not a thing," said Paul ; " how should /
know anything about liim? — he's some acquaintance
of Father Doran's, you know yourself, and that's
just as much as I know. He'll make the boys and
girls look sharp at any rate."

"Now, bother to you, Paull" cried Nora, with %

they tecrt bad boyi-^
et out hdre."
nothiDg to do," said
Its most of their time,
srts of laduesa there,
iveeding in the field or
1, they wouldn't have

e Jim, who was barely

i surprise ; " you don't

I didn't help her and
In't I now, mother ?"
and his mother fondly
i beside her on a low
cap" of rushes. " We
without you, Jim, and
, nice new cap to-mor-
the best little worker

schoolmaster," inquir-
you know anything

Paul; "how should /
be's some acquaintance
w '" oarself, and that's
'II make the boys and

. I" oried Nora, with a

EMIGRANT MFK IN THE NBW WORLD.

309

smile, •■ why will you be frightening the children that
way ?— see how Patsey looks at you !"

" Oh ! it don't frighten me, mother," said Patsey ;
" I'll try and learn well when I go to school, and then
I'm sure the master won't be cross. But what will
father do without me ?" he suddenly added, for the
little fellow had got an idea that his assistance was
necessary to his father.

" Oh ! never mind that, Patsey," said the proud
and happy father, " your schoolin' mustn't be neg-
lected, let what will come or go. There's too much
time lost already."

" Oh well ! sure I can do a good deal before aud
after school," said Patsey, joyfully ; "I'll not be all
day away." This difficulty obviated, Patsey again
applied himself to his book. N ora then made a sign
to Con to sit over near her.

"Is it true what I hear," said she, in a low voice,
"that Winny and Thady Landrigan re pulling a
chord together ?"

Con laughed. " Well ! I'm sure I can hardly tell
you," said he ; " I know very well that Thady has a
liking for Winny, and tht thinks a good deal of /dm,
but whether it'll ever come to anything between
Ibem, I don't know."

" I know myself," went on Nora, " that the old
woman would be well pleased if it did oome to pass,
for she thinks the sun rises and sets on Winny,
And I tell you one thing. Con, between you and me,
Winny wouldn't make a bad hit of it, if she got

,-,-«a.

870

CON o'reoan ; OR,

Thady. He's tii «iart and eoril of a good boy, and
has a fine place, too, vith not a cent of delt on it."
To this Con agreed, adding that for what he had
Been of Thady, he thought very well of him, " and,
indeed," he added, with a glowing cheek, "thereV
not many that I'd think good enough for Winny—
you know that well, Mrs. Bergen 1"

" I do, Con, I do, indeed!" said Nora, warmly ; "I
know the heart you have to Winny, and I know she
deserves it all. But sure you're not a-going, are
you?' seeing him stand up.

" Indeed, then, I am," said Con, " and it's about
time. I know this man of yours will have to be
early on the road. Good night to you all !"

" Won't I go a piece with you ?" said Paul, rising
up from amongst his rods.

•' Not a step, then I Do you think I'd be seen
walking the road with the likes of you? Just stay
at your basket, for I see it's near finished, and a real
beauty it is, too, I know myself. It looks for all the
world like the creels we used to carry the turf in at
home — now doesn't it, Mrs. Bergen ?"

"An' what if it does," interposed Paul; "isn't
that just what I wanted it to look like ? Get out of
my house after that, as fast as ever you can, or I
don't know what I'll be tempted to do ! It • 'ill be-
comes you, I'm sure, to make little of the creels !"
And he shook his fist at him in assumed anger.

Con affected to bo in a great hurry to make his
escape, crying, " Let me out, let mo out, will you?

EMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

371

; OH,

■otA of a good boy, and
t a cent of delt on it."
y that for what he had
ery well of him, *' and,
lowing cheek, " there's
d enough for Winny—
pgen 1"

said Nora, warmly ; "I
Winny, and I know she
yrou're not a-going, are

d Con, " and it's about
yours will have to be
ght to you all !"
you ?" said Paul, rising

you think I'd be seen
kes of you? Just stay
near finished, and a real
self. It looks for all the
d to carry the turf in at
Bergen ?"

interposed Paul; "isn't
) look like ? Get out of
t as ever you can, or I
pted to do ! It • '^U be-
ke little of the creels !''
L in assumed anger.
;reat hurry to make his
t, let mo out, will you?

—Paul's a terrible man when he's angered I" On
reaching the door he turned back on his heel, say-
ing: "If you please, Mrs. Bergen I don't let him
forget Biddy's messsges! — there would be no stand*
ing her if he forgot the tea! she'd be savage on my
hands, just like himself!" And with another " good
night" in Irish, he bounded through the doorway.
But Patsey and Jim were after him before he had
reached the gate.

" Why, Patsey, what in the world are you about ?"
said Con, with some surprise ; *' I thought you
couldn't spare a minute from the catechism !"

*< Oh I I can spare time enough to go a piece with
you — me and Jim. I nearly know my lesson now,
and I'll be glad to have a little walk in this clear
moonlight."

" But did you ask leave to come, children P"

" Oh, of course, we did — you don't think we'd
come without leave ? Both father and mother told
us to come."

" Well ! well ! step oat, then," said Con ; " you
may just come as far as the big maple tree yonder" —
it was a solitary maple which stood on the roadside,
the remains, perhaps, of a stately group. "And
now," said Con, "I can tell you something that I
know you'll like to hear."

The boys were all attention in a moment. " Do
you know," said Con, " that we have some roots of
Irish shamrock in our garden ? Biddy brought out
one with her planted ia a little bit of a box, and it

312

boN o'keoan ; or,

has grown so well that we have quite a little plot
of it. I forgot to tell them at your house, but I
mean tv give your mother a root."

This was said partly to test the children's feel-
ings on the subject, and Con was agreeably sur-
prised to see how they caught at the news. " What'?
that you say, Con ?" cried Patsey ; " is it a real,
real shamrock all the way from Ireland ?"

" Just BO !" said Con, whereupon Utile Jim clapped
his hands and cried : " Now, we'll have a real sham^
rock for next St. Patrick's Day !— oh ! I'm so glad 1"
"And me, too," added Patsey. "I wish we
could only keep our root from father's sight till
we'd give him a fine bunch of shamrock next St.
Patrick's Day— eh, Jim?"

" Well! you can if you wish," said Con, " for to-
morrow when your father's gone you can come
over for it, and just plant it in some little private
spot in the garden where he'll never notice it."
" And you won't tell father, or mother, or any of

them?"

" Oh ! not a word," said Con ; " never fear but
I'll keep your secret."

"Now, mind, Jim, you'll not tell either, will
you?" baid Patsey to bis brother with great ear-
nestness.

Jim was quite willing to give the required pro-
mise on condition that he was allowed to give a
bunch to his mother, as Patsey was to present one
to their father. Just then they reached the maple

I ; OR,

have quite a little plot
m at your house, but I
, root."

test the children's feel-
Jon was agreeably sur-
ht at the news. "What'?
1 Patsey ; " is it a realj
rom Ireland ?"
reupon little Jim clapped
7, we'll have a real sham
)ay !— oh I Vm so glad !"
Patsey. "I wish we
from father's sight till
h of shamrock next St.

wish," said Con, " for to-
r's gone you can come
it in some little private
le'U never notice it."
iier, or mother, or any of

d Con ; " never fear but

a'll not tell either, will
brother with great ear-
bo give the required pro-
e was allowed to give a
atsey was to present one
1 they reftdied the maple

KMIGKANT LIFE IN THE NEW WOBM».

813

wee, whose gigantic shadow was flung far over into
the a-ljoining field, and Con would not suffer the
boys to go any farther. All the way home the
brothers kept talking about the shamrock and how
carefully they were to keep the secret, and how de^
lighted their father and mother would be when they
gave them each a bunch on St. Patrick's morning
before they went out to church. Long before they
reached home, too, they had decided on the very
spot where the shamrock was to be planted, and
said Patsey : " We'll call that our little Ireland,
because it's such a pretty place, the prettiest on all
our land,— oh, won't it be fine, Jim ?" It was also
debated whether Jane was to be admitted into their
confidence, but on the whole they thought it hardly
safe, as they knew she couldn't keep anything from
"mother."

It was with a lightsome heart and a buoyant step
that Con O' Regan traced his homeward way, exult-
ing in the thoughts that his children were to be
brought up in the same pure, moral atmosphere, and
under the same healthy influences that had changed
the little Yankee rowdy into a genuine Irish boy, <
full of the traditionary virtues of his people, and sus-
ceptible of every noble and generous feeling. While
musing on this agreeable pabject two female figures
appeared in the distance on the solitary road, and
Con was at no loss to recogniae the tall, graceful
form of Winny, and the fairy-like proportions of hia
little helpmate. They were coming to meet him he

874

cos o'rboan ; OR,

knew very well, so hastening his steps he qoickly
came up to them.

" Why, then, in the name of goodness, is it j onr«
selves that's in it f ' he laughingly asked ; " I thought
it might be a pair of ghosts. Aren't yon afeard to
be out so late by yoarselves in this strange coun>
try?"

" Ah then, what would we be afraid of?" re-
sponded Winny, in the same playful tone ; " sure
there's nobody here to do us hurt or harm ?— after
we got the children to bed we just thought we'd
take a little walk to see if we'd meet you. How
are they all at Paul Bergen's ?"

" All well— as well as can be."

So saying, Con opened the door of his own house,
and a few miuuLcs after they were all three kneeling
»t the Rosary.

; o^i

; his steps he qoiokly

EMIGRANT I-IFB IN THB SRW WORLD.

316

>f goodness, is it our*

igly asked ; " I thought

Aren't yon afeard to

in tbia strange coun<

v& be afraid of?" re-
) playful tone; " sure

hurt or harm ? — after
we just thougtit we'd
we'd meet you. How

?"
be."

door of his own house,
were all three kneeling

CHAPTER XXI.

On the following evening, about five o'clock, a
neighbor who was passing Con's door with some
oats for the mill, stopped opposite where Con was
workins; in the field, and called to him that the new
schoolmaster had arrived and that he was wanted at
Paul Bergen's as fast as he could go.

•'Bless my soul!" said Con, as he repeated the
message to Winny and his wife, " aren't they in a
great hurry ? One would think it was for life and
death, and so Neddy Branigan said wlien he was
telling me. He said they seemed all in a bustle at
Paul's. At any rate, I must start off, and you needn't
wait for me to supper, for I know I'll have to take
mine at Paul's." So having made himself " a little
decent," as Winny said, he hurried away to pay his
respects to the stranger and wclconie him to their
new settlement. As he passed by Father Doran'a
house, a pretty cottage adjoiaiag the Church, he
found the priest walking to and fro on a little
verandah in front of the house. He was reading,
and Con would n t have disturbed him with any sa-
lulation.but all at once he raised his eyes, and said r

816

CON REGAN ; OR,

" Good evening, Con ! — I see yoa'rfl in a hurry."

" A good evening kindly to your reverence ! — I
am, then, in a hurry, Father Doran, for it scorns
Paul's got back with the new master, and they want
me over to see him."

" And right glad you'll be to see him, too," said
the priest, with one of his waggish smiles. " Do-
minick Shannon is a fine old fellow, although, I dare
Bay, you stand indebted to him for many a good cas-
tigation."

" So then it is Dominiok Shannon, after all !" ex-
claimed Con ; " well ! I thought the old man would
be in heaven by this time instead of coming out
here. It's mighty queer, so it is."

" Queer 1' repeated Father Doran, with his dry
laugh ; " not a bit queer — he'll be able to explain it
all to your satisfaction. He'll give you chapter and
verse for it, I promise yout Harry on, now, for I
know they're expecting you."

Con shrugged his shoulders, but said no more,
seeing that the priest had already resumed his read-
ing. On reaching Paul Bergen's, Con saw Patsoy
and Jim at some distance in the field, playing by the
banks of the stream with some other children,
amongst whom was a boy bigger and stronger than
Pfttsey. " Can these be old Shannon's children f"
said he to himself; " surely he had neither wife nor
children when I knew him I" The youngsters were
too much engaged with their sport to notice Con,
•o be passed on and opened the little gale. Tbs

[; OR,

see yoa'rn in a hurry."
to your reverence ! — 1
!r Doran, for it scorns
f master, and they want

le to see him, too," said
waggish smiles. " Do-
fellow, although, I dare
im for many a good oas-

Shannon, after all !" ex-
jght the old man would
instead of coming out
it is."

jr Doran, with his dry
)'ll be able to explain it
'11 give you chapter and
I Hurry on, now, for I

lers, but said no more,
ready resumed hia read-
rgen's. Con saw Patsoy
the field, playing by the
I some other children,
igger and stronger than
d Shannon's children ?"
he had neither wife nor
' The youngsters were
iir sport to notice Con,
id the little gate. The

^aj

A/.

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

■<" C'x

t/.

&,/j

1.0

I.I

'" lilM

IS IM

t m

2.0

1.8

1.25

u mil 1.6

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4b03

%^ ^J

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut canadien de microreproductions historiques

EMIGRANT UVS IV THE NBW WORLD.

81t

hum of voices came from within, and as Con stopped
a moment to collect bis thoughts, he fancied that
other familiar tones besides those of Paul and Nora
fell upon his ear. ^

"Well! of course," said he, "if old Dommick 8
in it, I ought to know Am voice," so he placed his
hand on the latch, and just then he heard one say

within : , . nr

•' Whom the Lord lovetb He chasteneth, Mar-
garet—remember that, my poor girl, and you will
see in your heavy sorrow a blessing in disguise .
Con waited to hear no more. The door opened
before him, and he rushed in, then stood a moment
in breathless amawment, anxious yet unable to
speak. There before him, in all his habitual gravity,
stood Andy Dwyer, with both hands outstretched
in friendly greeting, and beside Paul Bergen sat
Peggy Daly, with Nora's youngest child on her

knee. ,

" Well, the Lord be praised !" cried Oon, as he
warmly shook Andy by the two hands, and gazed
inquiringlv into his now smiling face ; '♦ is this you,
Andy Dwyer, or am I only in a dream ?" and ha
turned his eyes on Paul, who nodded and smiled,

but said nothing. . , » j

" It is myself and no other, Cornelius," said Andy
at length ; " I am happy to say that you are under
no delusion, for I am here even in my own proper
person. Ai.d here is another old acquaintance.
Margaret, my child, here is Cornelius O'Regan !"

81S

CON o'ltEQAN ; on,

i< i_-I_am glad— to hear him Bpeak again," mur-
mured Peggy, in a faiut voice, as she stood up and
made a step or two forward. " I am indeed. Con,
very, very glad, and Tom would have been glad to
see you too. He always liked you. Con, though he
never took your advice." Con shook hands with
Peggy, who sank heavily on her seat and covered
her face with both hands.

" I'm glad to see you in Iowa, Peggy," said Con,
after an embarrassed silence, during which he had
been trying to think what all this could mean, " and
Tom— I hope he's here, too !" A burst of tears
was Peggy's answer, and Andy, taking Con by the
arm, drew him one side, where he told him in a
whisper to say no more on that subject.

« Pp ,. Tom," said he, " is gone the way of all
flesh, and a sudden death he met, too— may the
Lord have mercy on his soul I— only for that, poor
Margaret wouldn't be here. Never mention his
name at all to her, unless she speaks of him herself."
Con was horrified to hear of Tom's death, and a
sudden death besides, but he made au effort to for-
get it for the time, and asked for Mrs. Dwyer and
the children.

" Oh I they're all well— very well, indeed," said
Andy ; " the children are all out on an exploring
expedition with the young Bergens, and I believe
Alice is gone with Mrs. Bergen to visit her dairy.
Altered times'these with all of you, Cornelius !"
" Altered, indeed !" said Con, still speaking in an

BUIGRANT UlR IK THE NEW WORLD.

Olt,

879

lim speak again," mur-
e, as she stood up and
" I am indeed, Con,
•uld have been glad to
id you. Con, though he
Con shook hands with
, her seat and covered

)wa, Peggy," said Con,
), during which he had
I this could mean, " and
) !" A burst of tearg
Qdy, taking Con by the
'here he told him In a
that subject,
a gone the way of all
he met, too — may the
ml I— only for that, poor
e. Never mention his
e speaks of him herself."
r of Tom's death, and a
6 made an effort to for-
ced for Mrs. Dwyer and

very well, indeed," said
all out on an exploring
; Bergens, and I believe
rgen to visit her dairy,
il of you, OorneliuB!"
Coo, stUl speaking in an

ibstracted tone, for he had not yet got over his
bewilderment ; " but how did you all get here, and
Where's the schoolmaster ?"

This last question was addressed to Paul, who
ihrust his hands in his pockets and laughed in Con's
face. " Where would he be ?" said he, " cnly in
Andy Dwyer's shoes there ? — don't you think he'll
make as good a master as Dominick Shannon the
best day ever he saw ? — «h now, Con 1"

'• Why, to be sure hf. will," said Con, cheerfully,
"for he knows far more than ever poor Shannon
did. But, is it possible, Andy, that it was for you
Father Doran sent ?"

" If. is not only possible but true," replied Andy,
" and I believe he kept the secret from you just to
play a trick on you. He was ever and always ford
of practical jokes, God bless his kind heart I He
sent for us all — every one — and you may be sure
Alice and myself were nothing loath to avail our*
selves of his goodness. So, if you'll have me," he
added, with a smile, 'Tm come to train up jour
rising generation * in the way they should go,' as the
Wise Man has it."

Anothi r warm shake of the hand was Con's an-
swer, and just then the back door opening gave
admission to Mrs. Dwyer and her happy hostess,
the latter carrying a dish of th'.ok cream. It is
needless to say that Con and Mrs. Dwyer were
mutually glad to meet again under such favorable
•uspioes, and that joy was depicted on every face,

389

C0>! O'UEGAN J OR,

■with the single exception of poor Peggy, on whose
features an habitual melancholy had aettlcd— a
melancholy that nothing could disturb. But Nora
was the kindest, the most attentive of friends, and
her voice had a soothing influence on Peggy's

darkened soul.

The sound of mirthful voices mingled with loud
bursts of Unghter speedily announced the arrival of
the youngsters who burst in pell-mell, thinking of
nothing in the world but their recent sport. The
young Dwyers were somewhat abashed on seeing
Con, but their timidity was of short duration, when
he began to talk to them of all the strange sights
they had to see about their new home, and all the
untlied pleasures of wood and field. Andy looked
on with a pleasant and happy smile, nodding occa-
sionally at his wife, with an air that seemed to say :
" What a place this will be for us and the children !"
As his eye rested on Patsey Bergen, now a tall, mus-
cular boy of ten or thereabouts, a grave simle sud-
denly lighted up his features.

« Come here," said he, "Silas, or Jeff— why, then,
what sort of a memory have I at all, that I can't re-
member that name of yours ?— what's this it is, my
little man ?— oh, now I thir.k of it, you're littUj Honry
Clay— are you not r"

Paul was going to answer, but Andy made a sign
to him to keep quiet.

"No, no, cried Patsey," eagerly, "my name k
Patrick— Palsey, you know !"

; 08,

poor Peggy, on whoM
icholy bad aettlcd — a
Id disturb. But Nora
tenlive of friends, and
iDfluenco on Peggy's

ices mingled witli loud
atounced the arrival of
1 pell-mell, thinking of
leir recent sport. The
rhat abashed on seeing
of short duration, when
»f all the strange sights
r new home, and all the
md field. Andy looked
py smile, nodding occa-
air that seemed to say :
for us and the children !"
Bergen, now a tall, mus-
louts, a grave snwle sud-

Silas, or Jeff— why, then,
3 1 at all, that I can't re-
g ?— wbai's this it is, my
k of it, you're little Hpnry

jr, but Andy made a sign

" eagerly, "my name ii

EMIGRANT I.IFK I.S THB NEW WOai.t>.

381

!'»

« Why, then, I declare, so it is," said Andy, " how
in the world could I make such a mistake? But,
then, after all, Patrick is such an ugly name.",

"Oh I no, Mr. Dwyer," said Patsey, quickly;
i^ Patrick is a good name, and I like it now better
than any other. I used to not like it, but that was
long ago when I was a little fellow and didn't know
any better. The Yankee boys said it wasn't a pretty
name, but if I were there now, Id tell them it was
better than any of theirs. Why, Jeff and Wash and
all such names that I used to think ever so mce, are
only fit for dogs. But that's true, Terry, you didn't
Bee my dog Pincher?"

Terry answered in the negative, whereupon the
whole juvenile party trooped off again on a nsw
ncent, leaving their seniors to comment at leisure on
(vhat had just passed.

" Ah !" said Peggy Daly, suddenly breaking silence,
After she had listened a while to the others, "ah! if
poor Tom had only come out here in time, or any-
where else only where he did go, he might have been
a livin' man this day, and a prosperous man, loo.
Och 1 ochl but it V3A the black day for him an' me
when he settled down in that unfortunate place.'

Con listened to the poor girl's incoherent ravings
with a heart full of tender sympathy, but he stiU
wondered what had brought her away from her only
relatives to a new and distant country. This ques-
tion he put to Mrs. Dwyer as he thought in a very
cautious whisper, but it did not escape Peggy's qmck

881

CON o'recan ; OH,

ear, and she replied with startling vehemence : " la
it me stay in that hateful place when Tom was gone-?
—sure- all the good that was in me was mindin' him,
and tryin' to keep him out of harm's way, for there
■was no one could do anything with him but me.
An' och! ochi wasn't he like a little child when I
Bpoke to him, and God he knows I was hard on hira
at times -too hard, may be, but then it was all for
his own good, an' he knew that well. But at any
rale, he's dead— dead— and I wouldn't stay in the
place for a mint of money !— what for would I ?"

"But your sister, Peggy?' said Con, hesitatingly,
overawed by the strange vehemence of her manner.
"And what of her?" she responded quickly;
"what was she to me— or what was I to her?
Anty has her husband and her children— she has no
need of me —she never fell into my ways nor I into
hers, sisters an' all as we are ! I got more comfort
Con O'Regan, from your own sister Winny, un'
from Mrs. Bergen, an' Mrs. Divyer here, than I ever
got from Amy Brady, long as we wete together,
an' that's just the reason why I mada my way out
here, to live and die among you all. The Lord's
biessiu' be about Mr. Coulter, an' his two sisters,
it's them I may thank for being where I am."

"Well! sure enough," said Paul, "I did wonder,
Peggy, where you got the means of comin' out here
—I knew very well you hadn't it of your own."
"Is it me?" cried Peggy, stili iu the same excited

UN ; OR,

startling vehemence : " Is
lace M'hcn Tom was gone-?
as in me was mindin' him,
of harm's way, for there
i^tbing with him but me.
like a little child when I
knows I was hard on him
B, but then it was all for
w that well. But at any
d I wouldn't Slay in the
— what for would I ?"
? ' said Con, hesitatingly,
ehemence of her manner,
she responded quickly ;
or what was I to her?
her children— she has no
I into my ways nor I into
re I I got more comfort
own slater Winny, an'
Dwyer here, than I ever
ig as we weKe together,
why I mada my way out
Ig you all. The Lord's
Iter, an' his two sisters,
eing where I am."
lid Paul, ''I did wonder,
means of comin' out here
In't it of your own."
still iu the same

EMIGRANT f.lFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

S8S

these

■ fore n
izcited I

tone ; " why, I could never raise as much
years past ao would buy me a new dress."

"An' did they give you enough to bring you?"
asked Con, his head full of the Coulter family.

" If they didn't," said Peggy, " they gave a good
share of it between the three of them, an' the rest
they made up among their friends. An' what do
you think but Mr. Coulter wanted me to go to some
great eye doctor that he knew, an' have him exa-
mine my eyes, an' that he'd pay any expense there
might be, if there was an operation, but I wouldn't
hear to him. If Tom had lived I would, with all
the veins of my heart, but when he was gone I
didn't care. I'm just as well as I am, an' better,
too, for I can see no one but him, an' I have him
always before me. But, sure, sure, amn't I the fool
ish creature to be talkin' so much about myself.
How is Winny, Con, and your wife and children —
now that I mind to ask for them — an', indeed, it's
not always that I have my wits about me."

"They're all well, Peggy, thanks be to God, well
and happy. I'm sure they'll be overjoyed to see
you all, an' especially Winny. I must hurry ofiF
home an' let them know, I declare it's like a dream
to myself yet. I can hardly b'lieve it."

" Well 1 I'm sure," said Paul Bergen, " you're not
any more surprised than I was when I saw who was
waitin' for us in Dubaque. If the earth opened be«
my eyes I couldn't have been more astonished

884

cox REGAN ; OR,

Wasn't it the fine trick Father Doran playeQ ou tib

all?"

"Wasn't it now P said Con, as he stood np to
go, " an' I wish you'd just seen the smile he had on
him when I was comin' past, an' him tellin' nio to
hurry on till I'd see Dorainick Shannon."

" Dominick Shannon !" repeated Andy in sur-
prise, whereupon Con told Paul to give an account
of Biddy's supposition, and how it had got to the
priest's ears, " for," said he, " I think every minute
an hour till I get home with the news."

"And mind," said Nora, following him to the
door, "mind and bring them all back with you just
as soon as ever they can get ready. Felix and
Judy will be over, an' please God we'll have a plea-
sant evening of it. Make haste now, an' don't let
the grass grow under your feet."

Great as Con's hurry was he could not pass the
priest's house without letting Father Doran know
how grateful they all were to him for restoring a
valued friend to their midst, while providing for
the instruction of their children. Unfortunately
the priest was not in. He had gone out on a sick
call.

There was nothing for it, then, but to hasten
home, and when Con reached there he was assailed
■with a shower of questions touching the new mas-
ter, to all of which he gave evasive answers, and
kept on as grave a face as possible.

" Put away that wheel, Biddy dear," said he " and

BMIdBANT UFR IN THR NRW WORLD.

8811

)R,

Doran playeil ou na

, as he Btood np to

the Bmile he had on

n' him tellin' lao to

Jhannon."

jated Andy in eur-

il to give an account

)w it had got to the

[ think every minute

e news."

)lIowing him to the

11 back with you just

t ready. Felix and

^od we'll have a plea-

te now, an' don't let
»

e could not pass the

Falhep Doran know

him for restoring a

while providing for

dren. Unfortunately

id gone out on a sick

then, but to hasten

there be was assailed

uching the new mas-

etasive answers, and

sible.

ly dear," said he " and

Ton, Winny, leave by your sewing. Get yourselve*
and the children ready as fast as you can, for Mrs,
Borgen wants us all over."

The women demurred at these peremptory orders,
and would have insisted on knowing why it was that
Nora wanted them so badly.

" If it's the eld master that's in it," obsurved
Biddy, " I'll be glad to see him sure enough, but
then there's no need for making such a fuss. He s
no great hand at fussin' himself, unless he's greatly
changed. Is it him, Con, or is it not ?"

" I told you before that you'll be nothing the wiser
for me," said Con, laughingly; "unless you go your-
selves you'll just stay in the dark as you are now."

" Well !" said Winny, as she rose and put by her
work, " I think we may as well give in, Biddy. Get
up, astore machree, and let us get on our things. We
have the- milk strained up, and the cream in the
chum ready for the morning, so there's nothing to
keep as from going. I see by Con's eye that there's
something in it past the common. Come now, do
you dress Micky and I'll take Winny in hands."

Biddy was, at bottom, quite willing to be per-
suaded, for she dearly loved a little company, and
her curiosity was a strong incentive on this particu-
lar occasion. The wheel, then, was cheerily laid
aside, and in a very short time the little party sallied
forth, Con carrying the youngest child in his arms.

Great was the surprise and greater the joy of
Winny, when, on entering Paul Bergen's, she found

186

CON o'keqan ; OR,

herself encircled by the slender arms of Peggy Daly,
who, apprized of her near approach, had stationed
herself just inside the door for that purpose. Mrs,
Dwyer was the next to press forward to claim Win-
ny's welcome, her eyes full of joyful tears, and her
comely face all in a glow. Lastly came Andy, with
hand outstretched, and a friendly greeting on his
lips, ending with " how wonderful are the ways of
God, VVinny !" and by the time VVinny had returned
his warm shake hands, she was completely bewil-
dered. Looking from one to the other, she stood
the picture of blank amazement, while all the others,
with the exception of Biddy and Peggy, indulged in
a hearty laugh at her expense. Even Andy smiled,
and condescended to perpetrate a joke by asking
whether they still took him for Master Shannon, that
they stood gaping at him so. As for Peggy, she
clung to Winny's arm, whispering in h.r softeat ac-
cents : " Don't you know me, Winny ?— aren't you
glad to see me again ? — I'm sure I'd be glad if I
could only see you as you see «i«."

" And I am glad, dear," said Winny, at length,
fondly returning the gentle creature's caress ; " I am
glad to see you, and you're welcome a thousand
times. But sure I thought at first it was all a dream.
I can't get it into my head, at all, that you're here,
Peggy, and Andy there, and Mrs. Dwyer. And the
children — are they here, too ?"

"Every soul of them," said Mrs. Dwyer, laugh
bgly; "you'll see them all, by and by. We're the

i OR,

er arms of Peggy D»ly,
approach, had stationed
or that purpose. Mrs.
I forward to claim Win-
of joyful tears, and her
jaslly came Andy, with
•iendly greeting on his
derful are the ways of
me VVinny had returned

was completely bewil-
io the other, she stood
ent, while all the others,

and Peggy, indulged in
se. Even Andy smiled,
jtrate a joke by asking
for Master Shannon, that
so. Ab for Peggy, she
pering in h.r softest ac-
ae, Winny ? — aren't you
n sure I'd be glad if I
ie me."

' said Winny, at length,
creature's caress ; " I am
're welcome a thousand
it first it was all a dream.
, at all, that yow're here,
J Mrs. Dwyer, And the

jaid Mrs. Dwyer, laugh
1, by and by. We're the

EllICRANT LIFE IS THf: NF.W WORLD.

887

tenants for that nice little school-house that Paul
showed us as we came along."

" Well!" said Biddy O'liegau, "after all Im not
sorry that it isn't old Shannon we have. Fathei
Doran knew well enough what he was about."

"But, tell me this, Andy," said Con, "how dia
you and Father Doran come acquainted ? — I know
you are not from the same place at home, nor even
from the same county."

•' I'll just tell you, then," said Andy ; " it was
when I was working on the railroad that Father
Doran, long life to him I came collecting among us
laborers for a church he was building about twenty
miles from there. So he began to chat with myself
about one thing and another, and he was pleased to
say that it wasn't there I should be, if right took
place. He came back again and said Mass for us
one Sunday, and he promised me that day that he'd
keep me in mind if he ever saw an opening for me
You see he has kept his promise, may the Lord
reward him !"

Felix Bergen and Judy now coming in, the cere-
mony of introduction had to ba gone through, Andy
putting on the full measure of dignity becoming his
new office. With a grave and very low bow he
" thanked Mr. Felix Bergen and his good lady for
their very cordial welcome, and hoped he would
have the pleasure of instructing their little ones iu
the various branches of a polite education."
Tbia raised a general laugh at the expense of Fe

888

CON o'regah ; OR,

lix and J.idy, who blushed a little at first, but very
soon joined in with the others and laughed good-
humoredly, Andy looked from one to the other in
surprise, but Paul soon explained the matter to his
satisfaction, by telling him that Felix had " neither
chick nor child" but himself and his belter half.

Meanwhile Winny and Peggy had retired to a
corner, where the story of poor Tom Dorragh's
death was poured into Winny's attentive ear, as mi-
nutely and distinctly as Peggy's strong emotion
would permit. He had fallen, it seemed, into the
lower hold of a vessel, and his head coming in con-
tact with a bar of iron, the skull was so severely
fractured that he lived but a few hours, and that in
a state of utter insensibility. "Even me," said
Peggy, in a choking voice, " even me he didn't know.
He was carried to his boardin'-house — an", och ! but
that was the unlucky house to Aim— an' we were all
sent for. The priest an' the doctor were there, too,
but what could they do for him ? The doctor probed
the wound, they told ma, an' shook his head an' said
it was a bad business, an' as for the priest, why hi
could do nothing at all only say a prayer fov Toni,
for the poor fellow had no more sense in him than a
log. An' that's the way he died, Winny— that's the
way he died. Oh 1 may the Lord forgive him hi;*
sins, for sure, sure, he wasn't bad of himself, only
the company he fell in with, an' the cursed way of
livin' they all had." Here a burst of tears oame to
Peggy's relief, and Winny could not offer a word of

; OR,

little at first, but very
era and laughed good-
•oin one to the other in
ained the matter to his
hat Felix had " neither
and his belter half,
eggy had retired to a
i" poor Tom Dorragh's
y's attentive ear, as mi-
'eggy's strong emotion
len, it seemed, into the
his head coming in oon-
e skull was so severely
I few hours, and that in
ity. "Even me," said
even me he didn't know,
in'-house — an", och ! but
to him — an' we were all
3 doctor were there, too,
Im? The doctor probed
' shook his head an' said
B for the priest, why he
y say a prayer fci- Torn,
nore sense in him than a
died, Winny— that's the
6' Lord forgive him hisi
in't bad of himself, only
li, an' the cursed way of
a burst of tears came to
lould not offer a word of

EMIGRANT I.IfE IN THE NF.W W>)RI,D.

889

consolation, she oould only press the morurner'g
hand and smooth down the fair hair over her snowy
forehead.

After a while, when Winny thonght she had in-
dvilged this silent sorrow long enough, ^he suddenly
asked Peggy how she had left their friend Letty,
and whether she was still with the Misses Coulter.
On hearing this, Peggy hastily dried her tears, and
said with something approaching to a smile :

" Why, then, to be sure, she is ! how could they
get along without her, or how without them ? They
Bay she's a'most mad with religion of late, but I'm
sure I found her a kind, good friend, if she was as
mad again. What do you think, Winny de&r, but
she gave me five dollars to help to pay my way out
here. She did, indeed, Winny, and a good Coburg
dress, besides. The Lord's blessin' be ahout her!
I'll pray for her every day I rise, that she may be
brought to see the truth."

*' Poor Letty ! " said Whinny, with a heavy sigh;
" poor Letty I" it makes my heart sore every time I
think of the state she's in, and knov. ing what she
ought to be, too. Oh! if the Lord would only hear
our prayers for her, and the dear good ladies that
she lives with, and Mr. Coulter— if they were all in
the safe way, I'd be content to die this very hour.
My heart is full of gratitude to them, and while I
live, I'll never forget them, day or night. But that'i
true, Peggy dear I where are you going to stay ?"
« Well ! myself doesn't right know," replied Pegf

890

OON o'regan ; OR,

gy, with some embarrassment ; " if I thought I haJ
any chance of bein' near you I'd be easy in my mind,
for, to tell you the truth, it was to you an' Mrs. Paul
Bergen I came, an' sure her family is large enough
already."

" Well, never mincl, Peggy os^we." said Winny,
softly, " I'll tell you a little secret that'll make your
mind easy, as you say yourself" Whatever Winny
whispered into Peggy's ear, it must have been of a
pleasant nature, for it brought a warm glow and a
bright smile to the face of the blind girl. The
whisper did not escape the watchful eyes of friends
and relatives, and its purport was evidently sus-
pected, for many a shrug and wink was exchanged
on the bead of it.

Just then Winny was summoned to assist Mrs.
Bergen in her culinary avocations, and while she
was engaged in arranging the table for the evening
meal, an i-mportant addition was made to the party
in the person of Father Doran, who came to wel-
come his old acquaintance, and to congratulate him
and his family on their safe arrival.

" And to tell you the truth," said the good priest
as he took possession of the seat of honor, namely,
a high-backed rush-bottomed chair, "to tell the
truth I had a more selfish motive in coming, for I
know you all feel happy, and I wish to have a share
in yoar happiness It does »n old man like me a
world of good to see happy faces round him."
" Ah ! the Lord blesa your reverence," said Felii

EMKiRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

t; "if I thought I had
I'd be easy in my mind,
as to you an' Mrs. Paul
family is large enough

:y astore" said Winny,
ecret that'll make your
3lf." Whatever Winny
it must have been of a
iht a warm glow and a
)f the blind girl. The
watchful eyes of friends
ort was evidently sus-
id wink was exchanged

tnmoned to assist Mrs.
^cations, and while she
le table for the evening
was made to the party
ran, who came to wel-
ind to congratulate him
arrival.

ih," said the good priest
B seat of honor, namely,
led chair, "to tell the
motive in coming, for I
d I wish to have a share
) an old man like me a
' faces round him."
iir reverence," said Felix

391
Yoa

Bergen : " sure it's all along your own doing,
tricked these people finely !"

" Well, yes, I rather think I did," said the priest,
with one of his merriest laughs, for he evidently en.
joyed the joke; "if to-day had been the first of
April, my friend Con here would have felt rather
small on seeing Andy— I beg pardon— I mean An-
drew." The new schoolmaster bowed and smiled
graciously. " I believe he had just as much expecta-
tion of seeing the man in the moon, and, indeed,
thought far more of seeing that venerable person-
age, Master Shannon, peace to the good man, be he
living or dead ! But, come here, Patsey, my boy,
and bring your young friend with you. Sit down
here both of yon beside me till we have a talk."

The talk, however, was soon interrupted by Nora
asking if his reverence wouldn't sit over to the table
and have a cup of tea.

"Most willingly, Mrs. Bergen," and Father Doran
advanced with a smile to the seat pointed out for
him by the hostess. " I see you have something for
us more substantial than tea. Come along, Andrew,
bring Mrs. Dwyer over to the table, till you try our
Western cheer. Come, Felix, what are you about ?"
Thus gracefully assuming a command which he well
knew was most pleasing to his host and hostess,
Father Doran set every one about him at ease, and
the company were soon seated in due rotation.

" Well, Con," said Mrs. Bergen as ^he handed him
his first cup of tea, Paul having previously helped

892

CON o'regan ; OR,

him to a good slice of cold roast mutton, " tbis is
not like the first meal you had in our house. Wo
had neither roast nor boiled then, Con, except a
dozen or so of soapy potatoes that we paid double
'^ and treble price for, and a few pounds of fried ham,
half of it salt. Now thanks be to the Lord, we have
our own fowl of every kind, our own pork and mut-
ton, and in a little time, we'll have our own beef, too.
At times when I look round mc, I can hardly think
but w^hat it's dreamin' I am. Felix ! won't you give
Mrs. l)wyer a wing of that chicken and a bit of the
breast with it ! And Mrs. O'Regan and Winny
here — why, bless my soul! Paul, what are you
thinkin' of? Here's Peggy hasn't a tiling on her
plate yet."

" But will no one patronize me," said Father
Doran, who had a fine boiled ham before him ; " I
can recommend this ham, I assure you."

This was enough. The ham was duly tried, and
all the other good things in like manner, and the
meal went on briskly and merrily, the presence of
the priest, and his flow of ready wit, giving an ad-
ditional charm to the whole. Every one was happy.
Even Peggy Daly forgot her sorrows for the time, at
least so far as to smile and maintain a cheerful coun-
tenance. I'alher Doran and Andy Dwjer kepi up a
running fire of dry and humorous comment on the
various little incidents which occurred, to the great
entertainment of the admiring company.

" If Mr, Ooultor and the ladies could only see va

^Mk'.

; OR,

oast mutton, "this is
id in our house. Wo
I then, Con, except a
I that we paid double
r pounds of fried ham,
e to the Lord, we have
ur own pork and mut-
inve our own beef, too.
inc, I can hardly think
Felix ! won't you give
aicken and a bit of the
O'Regan and Winny
Paul, what are you
hasn't a thing on her

lize me," said Father
I ham before him ; " I
asure you."
im was duly tried, and

like manner, and the
errily, the presence of
ady wit, giving an ad-

Every one was happy,
sorrows for the time, at
aintain a cheerful coun-
Aiidy Dwyer kepi up a
lorous comment on the

occurred, to the great
g company,
kdied oould only see «a

CMKIRANT I.IFK IN THE NBW WORI D.

393

all now I' said Con in an under tone to Winny, who
sal next him.

" Ah ! thfit would be too mu"h pleasure," said
Winny, with a sigh ; <' I suppose we'll harUy ev«r
see one of them again. The poor old master ! II. iw
he would enjoy this eight — he's so full of good
nature, and likes so much to see people happy and
contented."

" Ah ! you speak of Thady Landrigfin, Winny ?"
said the priest, with a sly glance at Mrs. Bergen ;
"indeed I wish he was here. Some of us would
feel fill the better, I have no doubt."

Winny hastened to explain, her face all crimsoned
over, but Father Doran stopped her short with,
"Don't be ashamed, Winny, don't be ashamed.
Thady'a a very good young man, and we should all
be glad to see him — of course we should. How-
ever, there's a good time coming!"

Winny's blushes and her efforts to justify herself
only added to the mirth of the company, and Felix
Bergen " put the cap on it," as Paul said, by hoping
that they'd all meet again before long at Thady's
wedding. " We'll not say who the bride is to be,"
»dded Felix; "Winny there could tell us if she
liked, but a secret's a secret, and it wouldn't be fair
to ask her to break trust."

" Well ! well I" said Father Doran, who saw that
Winny'a embarrassment beo.ime really painful ;
"well! well! let us talk of something else — wed-
dings are cJl iiery well in their own place, but we

894

CON o'reoan ; OR,

have other fish to fry juat now. I suppose, An.
drew, you'll be for taking lossession of your new
tenement »nd your new oftioe without loss of time."

"Weill if it was pleasing to you, sir, I would.
Time, your reverence, is the poor man's wealth,
and every minute of it is worth gold."

" Very true, Andrew, very true, so, in the name
of God, you may go in to-morrow. As for furni-
ture, you must only do the best you can for a while,
till you're able to get it. I hear you have your
bedding with you, Mrs. Dwyer."

Mrs. Dwyer replied in the affirmative, and then
each housekeeper present offered a loan of some ar-
ticle of furniture " until such time as they got their
own." Andy and his wife were profuse in their
thanks, and this great point settled, the conversation
turned on other matters, and the evening wore
away almost insensibly till Father Doran, looking
at his watch, announced that it was nine o'clock.
He then took his leave, and the rest of the company
Boon followed his example, Winny taking Peggy
home with her, while the Dwyer family were di-
vided between the houses of the two Borgeus for
that night.

Next day was a busy, bustling day in the settle-
ment. Andy Dwyer and his family were taken in
procession, as it were, to the small but pretty house
prepared for their reception contiguous to the
schoolhouse, Great was the joy of the worthy
couple when they were shown the piece of ground

KMIOBANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD.

395

, now. I suppose, A?*
)088e68ion of your new
;e without lose of time."
g to you, sir, I would,
he poor man's wealth,
)rth gold."

y true, bo, in the name
morrow. As for furni-
jest you can for a while,
I hear you have your
yer."

be affirmative, and then
ffered a loan of some ar-
ih time as they got their
I were profuse in their
settled, the conversation
and the evening wore
Father Doran, looking
aat it was nine o'clock,
the rest of the company
), Winny taking Pegjjy
Dwyer family were di-
of the two Bergeus for

istling day in the settlie-
lis family were taken in
e small but pretty h<)u«e
ion contiguous to the
the joy of the worthy
)wn the piece of ground

•ttftcbed to the house, and warm was their grati'
tude when they found that the neighbors had al-
ready furnished the dwelling with all the most ne-
cessary articles of furniture, some cooking utensils,
(fee, nor were provisions wanting, for they found a
Ptore of various kinds which might serve with care-
ful management for months to come.

CONCLUSION".

Now that we have seen our friend Con ORegan
comfortably settled with his family in a thriving
township of fair Iowa, with Paul Bergen for his
next neighbor, we have only to sum up the fortunes
of our other charaoteis in as short a space as may
be, fearing that our readers may think they have
fol'owed them quite far enough.

We have seen Andy Dwyer and his good wife
put in possession of their new house, and on the fol-
lowing Monday morning the boys of the settlement,
to the number of fifty or thereabouts, might be seen
trooping from every direction towards the school-
house as a common centre. Nor were they, as
Shakspeare has it,

" Creeping like snail unwillingly to school,"

for the charm of novelty gave zest to their morning
journey, and, raoreov^, the new master was in
good repute amongst them, for his fame had already
ijone abroad as a man who was " not a bit cross."

8»«

CON o'keoa.n ; OR,

So the boys all gathered into the Bchoolhonse with
eager, hopeful hearts, and were delighted to see a
nice picture of the Blessed Virgin over the master's
seat, with a smaller one of St. Patrick for a visa-vis
on the opposite side of the room. Then the master
was so kind, and cracked so many sly jokes in his
o*n peculiar way, that the actual business of the
school lost much of its dullness, and the hours of
study passed away almost as quickly as any other.
For th»t day, at least, the boys were well contented,
and BO was their worthy teacher, who relished his
new occupation much better than the hard manual
labor at which he had for years eked out a support
for his family. And in the mornings and evenings,
before and after school, Andy and his boys worked
on the farm with the occasional assistance of the
neighbors, who gave " the master" odd " duty days"
now and then in gratitude for his assiduous atten-
tion to the mental and moral culture of their chil-
dren. And many a pleasant discussion Andy had
the honor of carrying on with Father Doran, to
whom his society was an invaluable acquisition.
Andy's house was not more than a stone's throw
from the priest's, and when any little difficulty arose
in the course of liis official duties, he was sure to
find an experienced counsellor in Father Doran,
who, himself, visited the school almost every day.
Amongst the most distinguished of the boys was
Terry Dwyer, and next to*%im came, in due time,
Patsey Bergen. Both these boys had good natural

; OR,

;o the schoolhouBe with
ere delighted to Bee a
Hrgin over the maeter'a
;. Patrick for a visa-vis
oom. Then the master
many sly jokes in his

actual business of the
ness, and the hours of
s quickly as any other.
lys were well contented,
acher, who relished his
• than the hard manual
ears eked out a support
mornings and evenings,
ly and his boys worked
nonal assistance of the
laster" odd " duty days"
for his assiduous atten-
ral culture of their ohil-
It discussion Andy had
with Father Doran, to

invaluable acquisition.
■6 than a stone's throw
any little difficulty arose

duties, he was sure to
jllor in Father Doran,
hool almost every day.
lished of the boys was
^im came, in due time,
e boys had good natural

EMIGUANT LIFE IN THE NEW WOELI).

397

talentR, and between Andy and the priest they lacked
not the necessary cultivation. Terry was something
of a wng in his way, and when be wanted to have
a little fun he would slyly remind Patsey of his
former project of running away from father uud
mother to avoid going out West amongst Irishmen
and buffaloes. Patsey's temper had improved con-
siderably, so that in general this good natured rail-
lory only made him kugb and blush, but at times
it happened that Terry went a little too far, and
then Patsey's patience would suddenly give way,
and some angry words would escape him, for which
he would afterwards apologize. But to say the
truth of Patsey and his brother Jim, they grew up
as good sons as Terry himself, or his brothers, Dan
and Willy, and that is as much as need be said in
their proise, for the young Dwyers were held up as
examples all the country round. As for Janie, she
had been always of a quiet, docile disposition, fond
of staying at home and helping her mother, so that
in her no reformation was needed.

For some weeks after the arrival of the Dwyers,
Peggy Daly remained an inmate of Con O'Kegan's
cottage, and many an hour, tranquil at least if not
happy, did the blind girl spend sitting on the green
sunny bank under the maple trees at the end of the
httle garden. There she sat evening after evening
knitting stockings, first for the household, and then
for all the neighbors round, who soon learned to
take a friendly interest in Peggy, as well from her

398

cow o'bIOAN; OB

melnnnliolv story, as from her own endenring traits
of charncter. As oftan as Winny could manage it
BO. she would take out her work and hit with Pegpy
in her calm retreat, the children plajang around
them. Biddy had neither taste nor time, as she
used to say, for sewing; she preferred leaving that
to Winny while she attended to the work of the
house and the d ;iry, the rearing of poultiy, calves,
lambs, etc. This was Biddy's element, and in it she

was happy.

It so happened that, after a few wee ks, there was
another joyous bustle amongst our circle of friends
and neighbors. Con O' l^egan's house was the scene
of great festivity, for Winny became the wife of
Thady Landiigan, and the wedding was of course
held there, and a great wedding it was, too, and the
neighbors flocked from far and nenr on Con's invi-
tation, for Con was resolved that Winny should be
married oflf with all the festive honors of their race.
The two Mrs. Bergens and good Mrs. Landrigan
gave the benefit of their practical experience on the
occasion, together with various et ceteras in the
shape of home made dainties for the greater adorn-
ment of the festive board. And Winny was the
modestest and prettiest of brides, with her mild
eyes bashfully cast dowa, and her delicate features
shadowed by a thoughtful, subdued expression.
As for Thady he was all gaiety and good humor.
No cloud obscured his happiness, no anxious
thoughts threw tb^ir gloom athwart the sunshine

; OB

f own endenring traits
rinny could manage it
jrk and hit with Pegf,'y
ildren plajnng around
,aBte nor time, as she
preferred leaving that
d to the work of the
ring of poultiy, calves,
'r element, and in it she

a few wee ks, there was
gst our circle of friends
,n's house was the scene
ly became the wife of
wedding was of course
ding it was, too, and the
ind nenr on Con's invi-
l that Winny should be
ive honors of their race.
I good Mrs. Landrigan
ictical experience on the
ii-ious et ceteras in the
3S for the greater adorn-
. And Winny was the
t brides, with her mild
,nd her delicate featitres
il, subdued expression,
jaiety and good humor,
happiness, no anxious
n athwart the sunshine

EMIOItANT LIFE IN THE NEW WOIILO.

399

of the hour. It was seldom indeed that Thady did
think, and that day he thought les« than ever.
Care and he might be married any day, as he used
to say himself, for there wasn't a drop's blood be-
tween them.

Nora Bergen was one of the happiest of the party
that day, for she loved Winny as a dear younger
sii^ter, and she knew that Thady Landrigan was
" just the boy to make her a good husband 1" And
Con O'Regan listened, and smiled, and said noth-
ing. He rejoiced, it is true, in the prospect of
Winny's happiness, but still he knew that she was
about to leave his home for one of her own, and
with her a portion of the sunshine was sure to van-
ish from his cottage door. Their lot had been so
long bound up together, that poor Con could not
behold their approaching sepsu-atiou without a pang.
Still he had no wish to prevent the match, for he
knew Thady was likely to make Winny happy, and,
" of couise," said he, " it's what must come some

day."

WTien Winny went to her new home she took
Peggy Daly with her, having first consulted her
mother-in-law on the subject, and obtained her full
and cordial consent. Mrs. Landrigan was none of
your crr.nky, queralous old women. She had car-
ried on into old age much of that careless, happy
temperament, which had been hers through early
iiid u:eridian life, and which her son inherited from
her to his own great comfort and advantage.

400

COM o began; or

The good old woman had fioi i the first taken
quite a fancy to Peggy, aii : \ i i, therefore, well
pleuBed at the prospect of having her a resitlent in
the family. Tims, then, was poor Peggy provided
with a permanent and a comfortable home, and in
the constant society of Winny she might have been
happy, could she have forgotten the Avretched fate
of him who had for so many years formed the sole
object of her care. Many and many a little peni-
tential work did Peggy perform, for the benefit of
his soul, unknown to all the world, as she thought,
though Winny was not without seeing and suspect-
ing what was going on. Not a year passed over
Peggy's head without her having a certain number
of masses offered up for the repose of Tom's soul,
and when Father Doran would object to taking her
little offering, saying that he would do what she
wanted, without her depriving herself of her little
earnings, " Oh !" she would say, with a touching
smile, " that's the only thing I have to do with my
earnings. Father Doran, and it's the only comfort I
have, too, go you'll not refuse to take it, your reve-
rence." tf oiJT.-j, it was impossible to refuse, so
the gor.ii pj.i i! ' ij only to '"v . in, and promise to
say tl I Mnw as ajon as possible. At times Peggy
would go and spend a week, or perhaps two, at
Paul Bergen's, to help Nora and Jenny with their
winter's or summer's knitting, and Peggy's visits
were always festive occasions to Nora and the
children. Once in a while, too, she had to pay Mrs.

IMIOKANT LIFE IN THE HEW WOBLD.

401

rni the first tnken
•1 i, therefore, well
ig her a resident in
ur Peggy provided
;able home, and in
le might have been
1 the wretched fate
lis formed the sole
many a httle p<!ni-
I, for the benedt of
Id, as nhe thought,
seeing and snspect-
i year passed over
g a certain number
lose of Tom's soul,
)bject to taking her
TOuld do what she
berself of her little
y, with a toucliing
have to do with my
i the only comfort I
3 take it, your reve-
jssible tr> refuse, so
p in, nnd promise to
e. At times Peggy
or perhaps two, at
d Jenny with their
and Peggy's visits
to Nora and the
she had to pay Mis.

Felix a visit, and then Biddy O'Regan would pre-
tend to be jealous, so that Peggy had to spend some
days with her before she went home again, in order
to pacify her.

After Father Doran himpelf, Andy Dwyer was
the greatest man in the settlemenc for years and
years. His house was the emporium of news, as
his school was of knowledge. Every Sunday after
Mass, and again in the evening, the neighbors
gathered in from far and near to hear the papers
read, and Andy was a proud and happy mau when
dealing out the news of the day to an admiring au-
dience, with notes and comments of his own. Then
Andy had letters to write, read, and answer for all
those who were " no scholars " themselves, and that
was another very important part of his functions.
And though there was a tacit understanding be-
tween him and bis clients, that they were never to
ofifer him payment for any such little services, yet
we have good reason to know, indeed on the author-
ity of Mrs. Dwyer herself, that Andy was paid
over and over again in presents of one kind or
another. Such, then, was the even tenor of Andy's
way in the prairies of the far West.

And Con O'Regan was as happy and contented
as man can be here below. It is true he had to
work hard at times, and at certain seasons early
and late, but what of that when his labor went to
improve his own land and to bring in golden crops
for the benefit of himself and hia family. Sur-

402

COK o'begak; OB

rounded by friends and neighbors, with Winny
happily settled within an hour's walk of his own
dwelling, Con might well be happy, for he hved in
an atmosphere of peace and purity where nothmg
was strange or uncongenial, but all was home-like

and natural. ,

About a year after the receipt of Mr. Coultei 8
last letter, when Con remitted the final instalment
of the Misses Coulters' loan, he received for answer,
after the lapse of some few weeks, a few cold Imea
from Mrs. Coulter stating that her husband had
died of apoplexy just two months before, and that
she had sent the draft to Miss Coulter. Not a trace
of emotion was visible either m the stiff regularity
of the writing, or in the cold formality of the brief,
businese-liRe epistle, and yet the letter threw a
Kloom over the sunshine of Con's and Winny s life
for many a day to come. They knew and felt the
value of the heart whose warm pulses were stopped
forever and the sorrow which the widow should
have felt, but did not, they felt indeed. Many a
bitter tear did Winny shed for the loss of her gen-
erous benefactor, and her heart was filled with
anguish as she thought of how Uttle preparation he
had ever made for that dread eternity in which he
was now engulfed. Con sympathized fully and
sincerely in his sister's feelings, and they both felt
indignant at the calm indifference wherewith Mrs.
Coulter communicated such doleful news.
But another letter which Con soon after received

f; OB

BinOBANT LITE IS THE NEW WORLD.

403

ighbors, with Winny
)ur'B walk of his own
happy, for he lived in
purity where nothing
but all was home-like

iceipt of Mr. Coulter's
)d the final instalment
he received for answer,
weeks, a few cold lines
that her husband had
lonths before, and that
38 Coulter. Not a trace
ir in the stiff regularity
I formality of the brief,
et the letter threw a
Con's and Winny's life
r/iey knew and felt the
rm pulses were stopped
lich the widow should
y felt indeed. Many a
for the loss of her gen-
• heart was filled with
low little preparation he
ad eternity in which he
sympathized fully and
ings, and they both felt
ffercDce wherewith Mrs.
1 doleful news.
Con soon after received

changed the whole current of his and Winny's
thoughts. This last was from Miss Debby Coulter,
acknowledging the receipt of the last instalment of
the loan, and acquainting Con with the death of
her brother. Miss Debby's letter was short, but it
breathed the very soul of sorrow, and said that
neither the writer nor her sister had ever recovered
the shock of her brother's death. But what most
iuterested Con was the information contained in the
postscript. "It is said," wrote Miss Debby, " that
Mrs. Coulter is about to take a second husband in
the person of Dr. Eichards, whose wife died last
year. In fact, the affair is all settled, but the mar-
riage is not to take place till the end of a year after
poor Sammy's death. Well ! let her marry who she
pleases. It is nothing to us; we will never ex-
change words with her again."

"Hurrah!" cried Con, as he rushed breathless
into Winny's kitchen, a few hours after receiving
the letters "hurrah! — I've good news for you,
Winny!"

"Ah then, what on earth is it?" said Winny, lay-
ing down the iron which she had been using.

" You'd never guess," said Con, " so I may as
well tell you : Mrs. Coulter and Dr. Richards are
going to make a match of it. The doctor's wife
died last year, it seems. Isn't that glorious! I
wish them luck of all the happiness they'll have to-
gether I — ^I do from my heart out — ^it'U be a fine
oatand-dog life they'll have of it, Winny j won't it?

.-i^iftlAiKBStfaKWBt.

404

CON o'rkgan; OB

The old madam will give him tho worth of his vil
lainy to you, I'll go bail, and if he don't revenge
the poor dear master on her, my name's not Con
O' Regan."

"Well! sure enough," said Winny, drawing a
long sigh, "sure enough things come round mighty
queer, but, as you say. Con, they're a fine match for
each other, and I think neither was ever matched
before, for they say Mrs. Richards was a very good
sort of a woman in her way, and we all know what
poor Mr. Coulter was. However, I wish neither of
them any ill, and I hope they'll be happier together
than you or I expect. Thanks be to God, we're out
of their power, and have nothing to do with them
or the like of them any more."

Peggy Daly soon after received a letter from her
Hister, informing her that Barney was worse than
ever at the drink, so that her life was miserable.
She had been always hoping that he would be en-
couraged by the good accounts from theii- friends
in the West to begin to save in order to go out
there, but latterly she had given up all hope, and
had resigned herself to the prospect of a life of
wretchedness. Most of Barney's earnings,
said, were spent in the grog-shop, so that at times
she could hardly get enough to keep Ufe in herself
and the children. This was the last account Peggy
had from her poor sister, who, it appeared, died in
the course of the following year, whereupon the
four children whom she left were taken from their

^■*^*T^«!iW^**»»*.^,**^6<|^»iW«M**r#>fEWW.

L the worth of his vil
I if he don't revenge
r, my name's not Con

d Winny, drawing a
gs come round mighty
bey 're a fine match for
jer was eyer matched
hards was a very good
and we all know what
ever, I wish neither of
r'U be happier together
ks be to God, we're out
(thing to do with them

B."

eived a letter from her
3amey was worse than
ler life was miserable.
f that he would be en-
ints from their friends
?e in order to go out
given up all hope, and
e prospect of a life of
Jamey's earnings, she
g-shop, so that at times
h to keep life in herself
i the last accoimt Peggy
rho, it appeared, died in
ig year, whereupon the
t were taken from their

EMIGRANT LITE IN THE NEW WORLD,

405

wretched father by the city authorities, to be
brought up according to their good liking as their
own, undisputed property.

Alas! how many Irish families in these great
cities of the Eastern coast end just like Bainoy
Brady's!

\
4

\i I