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BIRTH 
 
 AND 
 
 ADOPTION 
 
 A BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 PROSE AND POETRY 
 
 BY 
 
 **ROCKY MOUNTAIN" O'BRIEN 
 
 1904 
 
 Price Bound in Cloth: One Dollar 
 
 Paper: Fifty Cents 
 Postpaid to Any Part of the World 
 
 ADDRESS 
 
 Patrick ** Rocky Mountain" O'Brien 
 
 20 Walker Street, New York 
 
OCT 1 t904 
 I fJooyrfght Entrv 
 
 CLASS ^ XXe. No. 
 
 COPY B 
 
 T5 3^^1 
 
 Copyright, 1904, 
 
 BY 
 
 Patrick "Rocky Mountain" O'Brien. 
 
 • • • 
 
 • • • 
 
England Applying the Torch in America. 
 
 Hiring Indians to Scalp Innocent Babes 
 And Mothers During the Absence of 
 Their Fathers and Husbands, Who 
 Were Fighting with Washington in the 
 Revolutionary War. 
 
 Burning the National Capitol. 
 
 Opening Smallpox Hospitals in Boston and 
 Trying to Cause an Epidemic Among 
 the Soldiers When She Could Not Sub- 
 due Washington by Any Other Means. 
 
 Blowing the Sepoys from the Mouth of 
 Cannon During the Indian Mutiny. 
 
 Dynamiting Zulus in South Africa When 
 They Sought Refuge in Their Caves. 
 
 Burning of Farm Houses and Ravishing of 
 Women During the Boer War in South 
 Africa. 
 
 Vigorous Denunciation of "Dooley/' the 
 Scavenger Cad, and Other Lampooners 
 of the Irish Race. 
 
 Roosevelt's Gallant Charge at the Battle 
 OF San Juan. 
 
 Dewey, the Hero; Also the "Maine." 
 
 IN PROSE AND POETRY, 
 
 Including 
 Irish and Irish-American Poems, 
 
 BY 
 
 "ROCKY MOUNTAIN" O'BRIEN, 
 20 Walker Street, New York. 
 
 Cloth Bound, $i.oo; Paper, 50 Cents, 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 In presenting this book of poems to the pubHc I do not 
 pretend to be a Goldsmith, a Davis or a Moore. I have 
 done the best I could, and, under the circumstances, I 
 hope the kind reader will appreciate my work all the more. 
 
 I have written some of these poems in the dead hours 
 of the night, often when my thoughts wandered far across 
 the sea to the little church and the schoolhouse and vines, 
 meadowland and wood, where I first saw the light of day. 
 More of them were written on the broad Atlantic, nearing 
 the land of my birth ; and some were written when return- 
 ing to the land of my adoption. The language used in 
 this book may not sound parliamentary, but to me it 
 sounds very expressive, and therefore I offer no apology. 
 
 When a boy of seventeen I was forced to leave Ireland 
 (not through any row with the family coachman, but 
 owing to the despotic and tyrannical English laws), and 
 I came to America to seek freedom under the "glorious 
 and starry banner of the greatest nation on the globe." 
 
 For thirty years or more I have been a citizen of this 
 nation. Eight children were born to me here, and the 
 saddest blow I ever received was when their mother, one 
 of the best and noblest women that ever lived, passed 
 away from them and me on the eighth day of January, 
 1899. She is now sleeping her last sleep in Calvary 
 Cemetery, New York. May peace be hers. She was my 
 joy and pride, and life without her has been a sad one 
 to me. 
 
 My father died in 1869 while I was on my way 
 to him on board the steamship *'City of Washing- 
 
6 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 ton," which plied the waters from New York to the Cove 
 of Cork. Owing to some mishap to the machinery the 
 steamer was detained at HaHfax, Nova Scotia, so when I 
 reached my father's house he was in his cold and silent 
 grave. Had we met with no obstacle on the high seas 
 I would have seen the face of the father whom I left 
 broken-hearted a few years before; but fate decreed that 
 it should not be. 
 
 The family were scattered far and wide. Two of my 
 sisters were in America — Mrs. O'Connell, of Oregon, now 
 dead, and Mrs. Duffy, now living in Rochester, N. Y. 
 
 Two young children and my mother survived my father 
 in Ireland; my mother died twelve years ago, and was 
 buried beside my father in Ardfield Graveyard, adjacent 
 to Gallyhead, on the south coast of Ireland, facing the 
 Atlantic Ocean. Last Summer I erected over their grave 
 a monument with an Irish inscription on one side and 
 an English inscription on the other. 
 
 England has murdered and plundered the Irish people 
 for the past seven centuries. She has robbed them of 
 their industries and their language ; she has leveled once 
 happy homes to the ground by her merciless crowbar 
 brigades; she has thrown aged fathers and gray-haired, 
 weeping mothers out on the wayside with nothing but 
 the blue sky of heaven to shelter them. Such acts as 
 these have enkindled a bitter hatred in my heart against 
 England and her accursed laws^ and if ever an oppor- 
 tunity presents itself I will be ready to strike that longed- 
 for blow against that ''tyrant of tyrants." I believe the 
 Irish people are justified in resorting to every means to 
 overthrow English misrule. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 7 
 
 England has applied the torch on more occasions than 
 one. She blew the Sepoys from the mouths of cannon 
 in India. She destroyed the homes of the gallant Boers 
 who fought for the same God-given rights that George 
 Washington and his countrymen fought for almost two 
 centuries ago. As late as 1812, 1813 and 1814 England 
 burned the National Capitol and several towns along the 
 coast of Long Island. 
 
 England has not paid one cent for any territory she 
 ever acquired, and has always left a trail of blood in 
 her tracks, especially whenever she robbed half-civilized 
 peoples of their homes and lands. She dynamited the 
 poor Zulus in South Africa when they sought refuge in 
 their caves. 
 
 England has broken every treaty she ever made with 
 Ireland. She bayoneted unborn babes in the streets of 
 Clonakilty, tearing them from their mothers' wombs. 
 
 Since the day Strongbow set foot on Irish soil the 
 Irish people have been the victims of the foulest crimes 
 on record. Men and women have been murdered in 
 cold blood for defending their homes. Irish patriots 
 were put to death in the '98 revolution after 
 they had laid down their arms. Ellen McDonough was 
 foully murdered at Belmullet a few years ago. Tim 
 Cadogan was murdered a year or so ago by a judge and 
 packed jury. Much to their disgrace there were six 
 so-called Roman Catholics on this jury. At the first 
 trial there was a disagreement of the jury, which was 
 composed of Protestants and one Roman Catholic. At 
 the second trial the jury, composed of six Protestants and 
 six Roman Catholics, found Cadogan guilty on evidence 
 
8 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 furnished by perjurers, not sufficient to convict a 
 fly. The foreman of the jury that found Allen, Larkin 
 and O'Brien guilty was a Catholic. The foreman of the 
 jury that convicted Cadogan is a Roman Catholic. He 
 is a would-be commercial traveler — a mongrel misfit — 
 who tries to sell one-way flour to Bantry and Skibbereen 
 bread-winners. 
 
 The Irishman born in Ireland, be he Protestant, 
 Catholic, Orangeman or Peeler, who shows his loyalty 
 to the English Government is far worse than Judas 
 Iscariot, who betrayed our Divine Redeemer. His price, 
 I believe, was thirty pieces of silver, but in my opinion 
 a man who dons the uniform of the enemy of his country 
 would sell his country for one piece of silver, and a very 
 small piece at that. 
 
 I look upon the Irish Constabulary as the greatest curse 
 and the worst enemy to the Irish race. Strange to say, 
 this body is made up to a large extent of the sons of 
 small farmers; the balance of the spurious spawn 
 of absentee landlords. The Peelers are the first 
 to help to level the homes of their unfortunate country- 
 men, and leave their kith and kin with nothing 
 to shelter them from the inclemency of the weather 
 except the blue sky of heaven and the air which 
 is polluted by the presence of the infamous crow- 
 bar brigade. One favorite pastime of the Peelers is to 
 meet little children about 10 years old and inquire from 
 them the movements of their fathers and brothers. One 
 of these Peelers offered a little 9-year-old girl in my 
 native town a box of sweets if she would watch my move- 
 ments and report to him those persons with whom she 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 9 
 
 saw me conversing and the purport of the conversation, 
 but the villain was unaware that I was told to be on my 
 guard by the wife of one of his fellow "bloodhounds." 
 She was an 18-karat Irishwoman. 
 
 One of the most infamous of these Peelers is Sergeant 
 Sheridan. Judas Iscariot was decent compared to him. 
 No government under the canopy of heaven except the 
 English would tolerate such diabolical deeds as his. I 
 am sorry to say that the banner founded by the illustrious 
 Washington shelters this wolf in sheep's clothing. That 
 samie banner refused shelter to James Fitzharris ("Skin 
 the Goat"), who refused to betray his comrades, notwith- 
 standing the fact that he was offered twenty thousand 
 pounds ($100,000) by the Gladstone government. That 
 was the only crime Fitzharris could be accused of, and 
 shame on the Administration that was instrumental in 
 sentencing him to deportation. 
 
 A greater shame still rests with the Irish organizations 
 of America that did not enter a stronger protest against 
 Fitzharris's and Mullet's deportation when they were on 
 Ellis Island, under the shadow of the Bartholdi Statue 
 of Liberty. I will do the A. O. H. justice by letting the 
 public know that they were the only Irish organization 
 that called meetings and protested against the 
 deportation. 
 
 I have just stated that the majority of Irish Peelers 
 are sons of small farmers, and the balance favorites of 
 the landlords who spend their ill-gotten gains in the 
 brothels of Paris, the gambling hells of Monte Carlo, 
 Spitalfields, Fordham Flats and the Sodomite dens of 
 Cleveland street, a la Oscar Wilde, Russell & Co. And 
 
10 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 these are the people employed by the English Govern- 
 ment to keep the peace in Ireland ! 
 
 Is it any wonder then that the Irish people should be 
 slaves when hirelings of this character are allowed all 
 over poor down-trodden Ireland? Still you will often 
 see these cowardly ruffians occupying the front pews in 
 the churches on Sunday, where no decent man or woman 
 should associate with them; but, such is life. It takes 
 all kinds of people to make a world, and we have them 
 both here and in Ireland. 
 
 I can shake the hand any time of the poor unfortunate 
 soldier who takes the shilling, for he lacks brains ; if he 
 did not, he would have no occasion to work for 15 pence 
 a day; very often he enlists through drunkenness, but 
 with all this and his misfortune he will do as little as 
 possible of England's dirty work, knowing her to be the 
 bitter enemy of his countr}^ I look at the sailor in the 
 same light as I do the soldier ; the Peeler, however, is al- 
 ways on the alert for information, and will procure it 
 by fair means or foul. 
 
 This is a correct version of the Irish Constabulary as I 
 have found them during the past thirty years, and I can 
 vouch for it that they have not changed any for the 
 better since. The pay of these vile wretches is only 25 
 shillings a week ($6.25 in American money), a sum 
 which a 12-year-old boy can earn here. I remember 
 when I was a child in Ireland a farmer would consider 
 it a family disgrace to have a daughter of his marry a 
 Peeler, but I am sorry to say such is not the case now 
 in some parts of Ireland. In other parts of Ireland a 
 tinker is preferable to a Peeler, and there is no reason 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 11 
 
 why he should not be, because while the former is not a 
 traitor to the land that bore him, the latter is. The black- 
 smith, the shoemaker, the tailor, the coal heaver, the 
 chimney sweep or the baker can earn far more than these 
 despoilers of happy homes, and should be far preferable 
 to Irish girls; but the latter prefer the companionship of 
 the Peelers to that of the honest, industrious craftsmen 
 herein mentioned. 
 
 This preface is founded on facts which came under 
 my own observation during the past thirty years. One 
 class of people I must pay a well-deserved tribute to — the 
 National School Teachers of Ireland. I found them of 
 both sexes, with very few exceptions, all thoroughly 
 patriotic, and although they are government employees, 
 they reflect great credit on the Emerald Isle. I am sure, 
 from what came under my personal observation, they 
 would be foremost in the ranks of an Irish 
 brigade striking a blow for the freedom of 
 their native land; and I am sure the lady teachers 
 would not be found lacking in love of country 
 if the crisis came, for I have found some of the best 
 and bravest of our race among them during my travels 
 through Ireland in the past three years, as well as 
 thirty years ago. Takiag everything into consideration, 
 the hirelings and minions of the Crown are in the 
 minority in Ireland, and the toady, the lickspittle, the 
 sycophant, the shoneen, the gombeen, the bailiff and the 
 squireen are looked upon as copperheads or rattlesnakes 
 would be in America. They are creatures of the earth — ■ 
 reptiles who are ashamed of the land that bore them, and 
 who are adding link after link to the chains that bind 
 
12 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 her by perjury and jury-packing. They have, however, 
 thank God! no standing among the Irish race either at 
 home or abroad, especially in this great and glorious 
 republic. 
 
 I abhor the Irishman or Irishwoman, no matter where 
 their children are born, who does not bring them up to 
 hate the persecutor of their race, but unfortunately there 
 are too many who fail to do so in this great and glorious 
 republic. Too many children of Irish parents are too 
 fond of patronizing the Harrigan & Hart drama acted 
 by sixth-class actors, who caricature the ancestors of 
 these children and receive from them an unlimited 
 amount of applause. The children do this simply be- 
 cause their parents do not instruct them in their duty. 
 Why, I have known not long ago our people to be carica- 
 tured at so-called church fairs at Georgetown College, 
 D. C. Our people were made fun of also by certain 
 actors. 
 
 I have no use for the stage Irishman, nor for the 
 people that give him any encouragement. I have 
 every reason to hate the English Government; in fact, 
 my hatred for England is as great as my love for Ireland. 
 Through England's cursed and tyrannical laws I was 
 forced to leave home and become a wanderer, and 
 though I have lived here principally ever since, 
 under the greatest banner that ever floated over 
 any nation in the world, I still look upon Ireland as 
 my home, and although I am an American citizen, a title 
 I certainly feel proud of, and have complied with all the 
 necessary qualifications to make me such, I can never feel 
 that this is my country; and though I married a woman 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 13 
 
 born on American soil and who bore me eight children, 
 all of whom saw the dawn of light 'neath the starry 
 banner and are now living here, still I never can feel as 
 if this were my country. 
 
 "Breathes there a man with soul so dead, 
 Who never to himself hath said, 
 'This is my own, my native land' ?" 
 
 Some fifteen years ago, about ten miles from the city 
 of Los Angeles, Cal., I was driving through the country, 
 and stopped at a farmhouse to inquire the way to an 
 adjoining town. As I alighted from the wagon a dog 
 in the yard began to bark, when suddenly the lady of the 
 house called Gladstone to *'lie down," but the more she 
 appealed to him the louder he barked. She dealt him, 
 however, a blow which brought him to his senses. I 
 thought she was an English woman, who, out of respect 
 for the ex-Premier, had named her dog after him. 
 
 "Madam," said I, "what an historical name you have 
 given that dog." 
 
 "Yes," said she, "I named him after the lowest cur dog 
 in all England." 
 
 "How is that?" asked I. 
 
 "Come into the house," said she, "and I will explain, 
 especially if you are an Irishman." I answered in the 
 affirmative. Then she ushered me into a very spacious 
 parlor, beautifully furnished. 
 
 My attention was at once attracted by a large picture 
 of Allen, Larkin and O'Brien; also one of O'Donovan 
 Rossa, with his hands manacled behind his back, lapping 
 his food like a beast. 
 
14 ' BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 "Look at those pictures there," said she. "Gladstone 
 murdered three of them and the other poor man might 
 just as well be dead, for not satisfied with their treat- 
 ment of him while in their clutches, the Gladstone gov- 
 ernment sent a hired assassin in the shape of a she-devil 
 to kill him." With these words the noble Irishwoman 
 commenced to cry, and I admit I had hard work to 
 suppress the tears. 
 
 I shook her very warmly by the hand, and left with a 
 good impression of Mrs. Lynch, for that was her name. 
 She was born in the County Kerry. If there were 
 more Lynches in America there would be fewer stage 
 Irishmen throughout this broad land. 
 
 Mrs. Lynch believes in physical force as the only 
 means by which the Irish people can ever obtain their 
 liberty. So does Luke Lynch, of Brooklyn ; his brother. 
 Father Lynch, of San Francisco; Miss Mary Lynch and 
 Miss Nellie Lynch, of Boston; Captain Peter M. Kelly, 
 of Chicago; Miss Margaret Barron and Miss Nora 
 Barron, of Ardmore; Miss Eleanor Burke, and last, but 
 not least, my life-long friend, that indomitable war-horse, 
 O'Donovan Rossa, and likewise Charley Doran, of the 
 Cove of Cork. 
 
 I am sorry, exceedingly so, to have to speak as I have 
 spoken about people born in Ireland, but I speak the 
 truth, knowing what I state to be facts, and to you who 
 have never seen the shores of poor old Ireland, I do not 
 want to fill your mind with a tissue of falsehood 
 from beginning to end, as others have time and again 
 done. Should any of you ever visit the land of my birth 
 you will, alas, find my words too true. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 15 
 
 The syphilitic Sodomites and Hcentious, scorbutic de- 
 generates of the House of Lords have not one-half ounce 
 of pure blood in their mangy cesspools, and a decent 
 American would not give them access to his hogpen. 
 These are the pusillanimous creatures to whom such 
 sycophants as Astor cater — Astor, who renounced his 
 allegiance to the noblest flag under the canopy of heaven 
 for the most blood-stained one that ever floated in the 
 air and polluted everything within its reach, since the 
 day the Almighty God opened the Red Sea and drowned 
 the Egyptians, and did not leave one of them to tell the 
 tale. 
 
 One disgusting element I found in Ireland during my 
 three recent visits there, which I am proud to state is 
 confined to the shopkeeper and the sycophantic govern- 
 ment employee is : If either have a son, and a person 
 addressing him fails to use the word "master," both will 
 feel highly indignant. 
 
 Another element in Ireland is the wealthy farmer, or, 
 as he is called there, the gentleman farmer, who, I am 
 sorry to state, the more he prospers the more loyal he 
 becomes to the British Constitution. But thank God 
 there is an element in Ireland that supersedes all this 
 lickspittle element. It is the element made up of the 
 honest, hard-working laborer, the artisan, the mechanic, 
 the salesman, the farmer, the engine driver, the 
 baker, the tailor, the shoemaker and the craftsmen in 
 general. These are the men upon whom I would depend 
 to make Ireland a nation, and if ever an opportunity 
 presents itself my words will turn out to be true. At the 
 same time I do not include all the shopkeepers and so- 
 
16 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 called gentlemen farmers in the disgusting element 
 already spoken of; indeed, there is nothing further from 
 my mind, for I have met some of both in my travels 
 through Ireland whom I found ready and willing to fol- 
 low in the footsteps of the illustrious Robert Emmet and 
 the fearless and undaunted Theobald Wolfe Tone. 
 
 How can Ireland expect any justice from the disciples 
 of the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah except at 
 the point of the sword? 
 
 The minions of the Crown in Ireland and the American 
 anglomaniac, whom I have mentioned in this preface, are 
 as obnoxious to the human race as the bubonic plague 
 would be to a mugwump meeting in Chicago, presided 
 over by a Goo-Goo divekeeper to keep Captain Peter 
 Kelly, of Newry, from being Chicago's next chief of 
 police, and the Honorable Seyport from going to Con- 
 gress by the popular vote. 
 
 Just imagine the Mad Mullah of India chasing the little 
 picayune Prince of Siam from post to pillar until he 
 reached the Sultan of Sulu's harem in the Philippine 
 Islands safe from the Mullah. If this Mullah could only 
 administer a few doses of the water cure to Joe Chamber- 
 lain and the English Secretary of War, he would be after 
 the Crown Prince's territory when he administers a 
 sound thrashing to Kitchener, the renegade Irishman. 
 The Mad Mullah must be something of a cross between 
 a Yap and a Cherokee Sooner, judging by the strategy 
 he uses in corraling the fourpenny soldiers in the service 
 of his Majesty, King Edward the Seventh. 
 
 Ireland need never expect anything from the 
 sycophantic element of the Irish race, not only in 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 17 
 
 America, but throughout the whole world. It is, alas, too 
 true that we have not only the sycophantic element 
 among the Irish race in America, but also in Ireland. I 
 have met J. P.'s in Ireland within the past two years who 
 were afraid to attend a lecture delivered by me in aid of 
 the St. Vincent de Paul Society, fearing they would lose 
 the tail end of their names — the poor, cringing, crawling 
 slaves upon whom England conferred titles. 
 
 Foremost among this class is a man with two tails to 
 his name, M.D. arid J. P. He is, I am told, a fortune 
 seeker, being a bachelor of sixty winters. He was afraid 
 of his own shadow during my sojourn in his neighbor- 
 hood a year or two ago, and whenever he spoke to me 
 he looked around to see if there were any of the toady 
 crowd in sight to report him to the Castle for being seen 
 in the company of a dynamiter. I cared very little for 
 his company, as I arrived at the conclusion long ago that 
 I can do without the society of such slaves, made so by 
 an additional tail to their names. "An American Citi- 
 zen" is all the title I want and ever look for, and I feel 
 prouder of it than all the J. P.'s or M.P.'s or any other 
 title that is conferred on my people by the shattered, de- 
 pleted and rotten British Constitution. 
 
 I am also sorry to have to state anent the reign of pros- 
 perity that prevails in Ireland, that riches make more 
 loyal subjects than poverty; at least I found it to be the 
 case during my last three visits to the land of my birth. 
 
 Before I close this preface I cannot conscientiously 
 do so without paying a well-deserved tribute to my coun- 
 trywomen in America as well as the world over. They, 
 in my opinion, are the chosen children of God. I have 
 
18 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 met them in every sphere of hfe, from the drawing-room 
 to the kitchen, and have found them on all occasions 
 equal to the emergency. I have met Irish girls who 
 worked in the kitchen to earn an honest living, but, 
 thanks to God, they were pure as angels and spotless as 
 roses. I have seen some of the handsomest girls that 
 ever left Ireland engaged in the hardest kind of work. 
 A girl's poverty is the surest sign of her purity. Sin- 
 cerity and modesty are the finest traits a woman can 
 possess, and I found both these traits in the Irish girls 
 whom I have met during my thirty years of life in 
 America. I have found them the same in Mexico, South 
 America, British possessions, England, Scotland, Ireland 
 and Wales. 
 
 Every Irish mother, wherever she may be, should be 
 proud of her daughter, for she is noted for her virtue and 
 propriety; and her services are sought for in preference 
 to those of other nationalities. 
 
 The devotion of the Irish and Irish- American mothers 
 to their children is too well known the world over for 
 me to comment upon. Suffice it to say that I feel proud 
 of them, from the 'longshoreman's wife to the wife of the 
 judge on the bench, the former being just as high in my 
 estimation as the latter. I hold the Irish girl who scrubs 
 for an honest living in just as high esteem as the mil- 
 lionaire's daughter who lives in luxury and has a retinue 
 of servants, male and female, to wait upon her, and while 
 the former may not enjoy much life in a drawing-room, 
 a crown of glory awaits her in heaven. The Irish girl 
 working in America never need be ashamed of her 
 position in life; she may be poor, but she is honest and 
 
■ BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 19 
 
 pure, and may God reward her for her good quaHties, 
 if not in this world, in that bright celestial one beyond the 
 clouds, where sorrow is no more and where there are no 
 drawing-rooms to distinguish between the rich and the 
 poor. 
 
 I have seen my people in every walk of life all over the 
 world — in the pulpit, on the bench, on the stage, at the 
 bar, in the marts of trade, also in the House of Rep- 
 resentatives in the National Capitol, as well as in the 
 legislatures of different States, and they were possessed 
 of all the necessary qualifications to fill the positions they 
 occupied. 
 
 I have heard it asserted that if Ireland were free to- 
 morrow she could never govern herself. Such a state- 
 ment, to my mind, is a villainous lie, and the Irishman 
 who makes such an assertion is not a sincere Irishman ; 
 he does not want to make any sacrifices for Irish freedom, 
 nor does he want the iron grasp of the Saxon broken. 
 
 I have still hopes within this aching mind that Ireland 
 must and shall lift herself, phoenix-like, from the grave 
 and take her place among the nations of the world, but 
 in order to accomplish this it is absolutely necessary that 
 there should be an armed force back of this parliamentary 
 agitation. Let John Redmond and his colleagues work 
 their way, and let the men who believe "in the sword 
 alone" to obtain Ireland's freedom work their wa}^, but 
 let neither of them place any obstructions in the other's 
 way, and then when the time comes present a united front 
 and drive the sword to the hilt in the enemies of our 
 country. 
 
 In union there is always strength ; in disunion always 
 
20- BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 disaster. The Irish people are the most faithful fol- 
 lowers of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, and also 
 the most liberal contributors to Peter's Pence. They 
 have built more Catholic churches than any nation in the 
 world, and I trust God will not keep them in slavery for- 
 ever, for they are his faithful children. The Irish race, 
 though persecuted by England, is a noble one; generous 
 and hospitable to a fault; every ready to help a country- 
 man or countrywoman in time of need, and the greater 
 part of that race longing for an opportunity to measure 
 swords with the demon of all nations and despoiler of 
 many homes, who would steal the Lord's Supper and 
 come back for the tablecloth five minutes after. 
 
 I believe the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah were no 
 worse than the city of London is to-day. Take the his- 
 tory of Cleveland street and take the history of the 
 English officials in Dublin for the past fifty years. Take 
 Sergeants Sheridan and Sullivan; take Wilde, Russell, 
 Montgomery, Talbot and hosts of others. Their crimes 
 were just as bad, and in some cases worse, than those of 
 Sodom and Gomorrah. Some of the deeds of the syco- 
 phantic scorbutics in high stations of life surpassed any 
 deeds or acts committed by the Egyptians who were 
 drowned in the Red Sea by the command of the Almighty 
 God himself. Still we are granted a special dispensation 
 from the Propaganda to eat meat on a certain Friday in 
 honor of a man who swore that our Most Holy Father 
 himself worshipped idols and that the Catholic Church 
 is superstitious and that there was no transubstantia- 
 tion in the Body and P>lood of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
 Christ. Here is the oath taken by King Edward VH. the 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 21 
 
 day he ascended the throne. His mother, the late Queen 
 Victoria, took the same oath on the 20th day of Novem- 
 ber, 1837. 
 
 OATH TAKEN BY KING EDWARD^ FEBRUARY 14, 1901. 
 
 ''I, Edward, do solemnly and sincerely, and in the 
 presence of God, profess, testify and declare that I do 
 believe that in the Sacrament of our Lord's Supper there 
 is not any transubstantiation of the elements of bread 
 and wine into the body and blood of Christ at or after 
 the consecration thereof by any person whatsoever, and 
 that the invocation or adoration of the Virgin Mary or 
 any other saint and the sacrifice of the mass, as they are 
 now used in the Church of Rome, are superstitious and 
 idolatrous; and I do solemnly, in the presence of God, 
 profess, testify and declare that I do make this declara- 
 tion and every part thereof in the plain and ordinary 
 sense of the words read unto me, as they are commonly 
 understood by English Protestants, without any evasion, 
 equivocation or mental reservation whatsoever, and with- 
 out thinking that I am or can be acquitted before God or 
 man of any part thereof, although the Pope or any other 
 person or persons or power whatsoever should dispense 
 with or annul the same or declare that it was null and 
 void from the beginning." 
 
 Remember, kind reader, Edward VII. had taken that 
 oath before the Pope granted a special dispensation to 
 all of his Catholic subjects to eat meat on the Friday he 
 was going to be coronated, which event, however, did not 
 take place on that eventful day owing to the illness of 
 the man in whose honor the dispensation was granted, 
 
23 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 If I had got meat three times a week in Ireland I would 
 not have left there thirty-three years ago, as I did, in order 
 to better my condition. I look upon this dispensation from 
 the Propaganda as one of the greatest insults the Irish 
 Roman Catholics received from the banks of the Tiber. 
 In justice to King Edward, I will not say that he is a 
 bigot, but having the reputation of being a liberal-minded 
 man, why in God's name did he take such an oath against 
 his Catholic subjects? Of course, the English Govern- 
 ment believes that the Catholic Church is founded on 
 superstition, ignorance, heresy, idolatry and immorality, 
 consequently we cannot expect anything better from their 
 King than the abominable oath which he took when 
 ascending the throne of England. 
 
 If any government official in the United States took 
 such an oath when entering office, the people would tie 
 him to the windward part of something of a cross be- 
 tween a bulldog and a coyote and then dump him in some 
 cesspool, for he would be too obnoxious to the human 
 race and would smell too bad. 
 
 Spain forced religion down the throats of her subjects 
 with the usual results — she is nearly wiped off the face 
 of the earth ; a fate which she richly deserved, and she 
 should have been blotted off the map of the world years 
 ago. Such a fate awaits England, and just as sure as 
 there is a just God she will suffer Spain's fate in the long 
 run. I care not what a person's religion is — that is no 
 business of mine — but a bigot I hate as I do a rattlesnake. 
 
 I believe all persons will go to heaven when they 
 leave this world except the A. P. A.'s^ and there is a 
 little subterranean passageway awaiting all of them 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 23 
 
 in hell, where there will be nothing but skulls, crossbones 
 and toads and scorpions, for of all the contemptible ruf- 
 fians on this earth they are the foulest reptiles that ever 
 polluted this glorious land with their presence. But, 
 thanks to the intelligence of the rising generation, their 
 abortion is aborted, and they are now a thing of the past. 
 
 With such men in the White Plouse as the indefatigable 
 Theodore Roosevelt, they have no show in this fair land 
 of ours. No decent American would associate with one 
 of them. The late Pope sent his representative to Queen 
 Victoria's two jubilees, and his secretary, Rampolla, 
 thinks more of the King of England's big toe than he 
 does of all the Irish cardinals, bishops and archbishops 
 and priests in Ireland. So do all the English Cath- 
 olics, from the Duke of Norfolk down to the kennel- 
 keeper. If there be any decency among Englishmen, 
 especially government officials, it is among the Protes- 
 tants, and the same may be said of those in Ireland. 
 
 If I were living in Ireland I would strangle a child of 
 mine before I would see that child wear His Majesty's 
 battleship band on his hat. I have seen many children 
 wear the bands of men-of-war ships on their hats ; I have 
 seen young women wearing the same kind of ornament 
 in order to attract the attention of the minions of the 
 Crown, but thank the Lord no decent, patriotic Irish girl 
 would be seen wearing one of these emblems. A true 
 Irishman would not have one in his lavatory. 
 
 Whenever a loyal man, especially if he be a Roman 
 Catholic, is either on the bench or on the jury and an 
 Irishman is on trial for any offense against the Crown, 
 his doom is sealed the moment the jury enters the box. 
 
24 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 The Roman Catholic hireling is far worse than the 
 Protestant hireling. I would rather have my life in the 
 hands of twelve Protestants any time, for I know I need 
 expect no justice at the hands of a jury selected by a 
 loyal judge of the Peter-the-Packer type of Roman 
 Catholic. This Peter the Packer was the judge who 
 packed himself from the bar to the bench and told the 
 jury that convicted Cadogan that he was guilty. I have 
 mentioned the foreman of this jury, and I might add to 
 what I said that this scurvy-faced, so-called commercial 
 traveler is a disgrace not alone in Ireland, but to all the 
 members of that craft. 
 
 Another low creature is the professional patriot or 
 faker. He would prostitute Ireland ten times a day 
 for his own aggrandizement, and is always ready 
 to participate in all Irish demonstrations, and is generally 
 on horseback or riding in a carriage with some distin- 
 guished characters on every St. Patrick's Day parade. He 
 makes some of the American politicians believe that he 
 controls all the Irish votes in his organization, and is 
 always successful in securing a fat position from Tam- 
 many Hall or some other hall on the strength of his con- 
 nection with Irish affairs. The so-called faker cares no 
 more for the freedom of Ireland than I do for the North 
 Pole. We have another example of so-called patriots in 
 America. I mean the St. Patrick's Day Irishman, who 
 manages by hook or by crook to get a horse — if possible a 
 gray one — and wears a green sash over his shoulders at 
 the head of the procession, and looks at each corner of the 
 street as the procession passes to see who is admiring 
 him. Then he is never heard of for twelve months more 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 25 
 
 until he is seen on horseback again, but if he be called 
 upon to contribute to strangle landlordism, he will tell 
 you that he is tired of giving to this society and that, 
 when in reality he never gives a cent, but he pays five 
 dollars for the use of a horse and perhaps five more for the 
 loan of the sash for one day. He is the St. Patrick's Day 
 Irishman — only Irish once a year just to suit the occasion. 
 The Irishman who never marches in procession on St. 
 Patrick's Day, but gives his mite when called on to help 
 his unfortunate country is my ideal of a man. 
 
 I have no objection to parades, but the money spent in 
 America on each St. Patrick's Day for the past twenty 
 years, if properly applied, would have had Irish land- 
 lordism strangled and buried in oblivion forever. Think 
 of it, gentle reader, there has been at least $50,000,000 
 spent on St. Patrick's Day parades in the United 
 States during the past forty years, and one-half of that 
 amount would have sent all the landlords in Ireland, in- 
 cluding absentees — the spurious spawn of Oliver Crom- 
 well's bastard breed — to perdition long ago. 
 
 Then the Irish boys and girls could remain at home 
 in the country that Almighty God created for them, for 
 when He made the world He made it for the benefit of the 
 hviman race. I am only quoting you His own words : 
 
 ''Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea, 
 Jehovah has triumphed, His people are free." 
 
 THE OATH OF ABJURATION. 
 
 Father Richard Shelton, Superior of the Jesuits 
 in Ireland, writing to the Sacred Congregation 
 
26 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 in 1658, conveyed the sad intelligence that 
 the persecution by Cromwell of the Irish Catholics 
 was carried on with ever-increasing fury ; especially, he 
 adds, ''every effort is now made to compel the Catholics, 
 by exile, imprisonment, confiscation of goods and other 
 penalties, to take the sacrilegious Oath of Abjuration, 
 but in vain, for as yet there has not been one to take it, 
 with the exception of a stranger residing in our island, 
 who had acquired large possessions, and being afraid of 
 losing them, and at the same time ashamed of the other 
 Catholics, undertook a journey of more than two hun- 
 dred miles to present himself to one of Cromwell's com- 
 missaries." 
 
 This oath, devised by Cromwell, condensed into a few 
 formulas all the virulence of Puritanism against the 
 
 Catholic tenets. It was as follows : 'T, , abhor, 
 
 detest, and abjure the authority of the Pope, as well in 
 regard of the Church in general as in regard of myself in 
 particular. I firmly believe and avow that no reverence 
 is due to the Virgin Mary or to any other saint in heaven, 
 and that no petition or adoration can be addressed to 
 them without idolatry. I assert that no worship or rev- 
 erence is due to the sacrament of the Lord's Supper or 
 to the elements of bread and wine after consecration, by 
 whomsoever that consecration may be made. I believe 
 there is no purgatory, but that it is a Popish invention ; so 
 is also the tenet that the Pope can grant indulgences. I 
 also firmly believe that neither the Pope nor any other 
 priest can remit sins, as the Papists rave. And all this 
 I swear/' etc. 
 
 A simpler form of this Oath of Abjuration is given by 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 27 
 
 Father Dominick de Rosario from a work published in 
 
 England in 1653, as follows: 'T, , do reject and 
 
 abjure the supremacy of the Roman Pontiff and assert 
 that he has no jurisdiction over the Catholic Church in 
 general or myself in particular. I abjure the doctrine of 
 transubstantiation, purgatory and the worship of the 
 crucifix or other images. I abjure, moreover, the doc- 
 trine which teaches that salvation is to be procured by 
 good works. This 1 swear without any gloss, equivoca- 
 tion or mental reservation." 
 
 This short form, however, was judged insufficient, and 
 the more detailed and more insulting abjuration of their 
 religious tenets was exacted from the Catholics of Ire- 
 land. The following act of Parliament, which com- 
 manded this oath to be taken, will serve to give an idea 
 of the severe penalties proscribed against those who re- 
 fused to take it: "It is manifest (thus runs the preamble 
 of the act) that the number of Popish recusants has of 
 late greatly increased in this republic owing to the negli- 
 gence with which the laws are carried into execution 
 against them, and that infinite dangers arise hence to dis- 
 turb the public peace. * * * Wherefore, to check 
 these evils, it is commanded by the authority of 
 Parliament : 
 
 ''That the Grand Juries will make a diligent inquiry 
 after all persons who are suspected of Popery, and have 
 attained the age of 16 years, and all persons so accused 
 will be obliged to present themselves at the next assizes, 
 or at any quarter sessions, to make and subscribe to the 
 
 Oath of Abjuration as follows: T, , do abjure 
 
 and renounce the primacy of the Pope and all his pre- 
 
28 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 tended authority over the Church in general, and over 
 myself in particular/ etc. 
 
 ''It is commanded that all justices of peace will send 
 four times every year to each parish clerk to have a list 
 of all persons suspected of being Popish recusants, who 
 have attained their sixteenth year, and are consequently 
 obliged to take the Oath of Abjuration. And that on the 
 presentation of this list each justiciary shall send his 
 orders to the bailiffs to summon those whose names are 
 thus presented to appear personally before the judges 
 at the next sessions. And if such persons do not appear 
 at the next sessions to subscribe the oath it shall be pro- 
 claimed in public sessions that such persons do appear 
 at the following sessions. And if they do not then appear 
 to take and subscribe to the Oath of Abjuration they will 
 be judged to be Popish recusants and subjected to all the 
 penalties that may be incurred as such. 
 
 "That on suspicion which any justice of the peace may 
 have he may summon the person whom he so suspects to 
 appear at the next session, and subscribe to the Oath of 
 Abjuration, under penalty of £100. And should such 
 person refuse to submit to the pecuniary fine thus 
 imposed on him he may be placed in custody until the 
 time of sessions, and should he then refuse to take and 
 subscribe to the said oath he shall be judged to be a Pop- 
 ish recusant as above. 
 
 "The Lord Protector is empowered to seize, by order 
 of the Court of Exchequer, and take possession of, for 
 the necessities of the republic, two-thirds of all the goods 
 and chattels and property whatsoever belonging to per- 
 sons so convicted each time that they refuse to subscribe 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 29 
 
 to the said oath. Should a person, of whatsoever condi- 
 tion he may be, contract marriage with one whom he 
 knows to be a Popish recusant, said person will himself 
 be held as such, and subject to all the penalties as above, 
 till such time as he shall take and subscribe to the Oath 
 of Abjuration. 
 
 ''Each justice of the peace who shall neglect his duty 
 in fully carrying out this order will be fined £20; each 
 parish clerk will be fined for a like neglect £10; each 
 register of assizes, for each person that he omits in the 
 registry, £20, and of all these fines one-half will be given 
 to the accuser. That no subject of this repubHc be al- 
 lowed to hear Mass at any hour whatsoever, either in their 
 houses or in any other place, under penalty of £100 fine 
 and six months' imprisonment, half of which fine will be 
 given to the Lord Protector and the other half to the 
 informer." 
 
 Thus the penalty against all who should refuse to take 
 this oath was the confiscation of two-thirds of all their 
 goods, which was to be repeated each time that they 
 should prove refractory. It was expected that the Cath- 
 olic gentry, already reduced to poverty by continued 
 exactions, would be terrified into compliance by the dread 
 of absolute penury and utter ruin, which now impended 
 over them. As to the poorer classes another penalty re- 
 mained, slavery in the Barbadoes. In every town com- 
 missaries and officers were specially deputed to receive 
 this oath. 
 
30 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 THE MASSACRE OF WYOMING, 1778. 
 
 The English historian Regnault, in his "Criminal His- 
 tory of England," gives the following documents in ref- 
 erence to the Revolutionary War : ''Hitherto the English 
 Government had uttered ridiculous threats, but the means 
 which it adopted were infamous. The English sought 
 for allies in the wigwams of the savages and excited the 
 ferocity of the Indians by offering a reward for every 
 American scalp. A regular trade in human heads was 
 commenced between the Indians and the English gen- 
 erals. The following document will show how eagerly 
 the abominable traffic was conducted, a letter from Capt. 
 Crawford to Col. Haldiman, Governor of Canada, accom- 
 panying eight packs of scalps : 
 
 '' 'May it please Your Excellency, at the request of the 
 Seneca chiefs, I send, herewith, to Your Excellency, 
 under the care of James Boyd, eight packs of scalps, 
 cured and dried, hooped and painted with all the Indian 
 triumphal marks of explanation : 1. Containing forty- 
 three scalps of Congress soldiers, killed in different skir- 
 mishes ; these are stretched on black hoops, four inches 
 in diameter; the inside of the skin painted red, with a 
 small back spot to note their being killed with bullets. 
 Also sixty-two of farmers, killed in their houses, the 
 hoops red; the skin painted brown and marked with a 
 hoe ; a black circle all around, to denote their being sur- 
 prised in the night, and a black hatchet in the middle, 
 signifying their being killed with that weapon. 
 
 " '2. Containing ninety-eight of farmers, killed in their 
 houses; hoops red; figure of a hoe to mark their profes- 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 31 
 
 sion ; great white circle and sun, to show they were sur- 
 prised in the daytime ; a Httle red foot, to show they stood 
 upon their defense, and died fighting for their Hves and 
 famiUes. 
 
 " '3. Containing ninety-seven of farmers ; hoops green, 
 to show that they were killed in the fields ; a large white 
 circle with a little round mark in it for the sun, to show 
 that it was in the daytime. 
 
 " '4. Containing 102 of farmers, mixed of the several 
 marks above, only eighteen marked with a little yellow 
 flame to denote their being of prisoners burned alive, 
 after being scalped, their nails pulled out by the roots 
 and other torments. Most of the farmers appear by the 
 hair to have been young or middle-aged men, there being 
 but sixty-seven very gray heads among them all, which 
 makes the services more essential. 
 
 "'5. Containing eighty-eight scalps of women; hair 
 long, braided in the Indian fashion, to show that they 
 were mothers ; hoops blue ; skin yellow ground with little 
 red tadpoles, to represent, by way of triumph, the tears 
 of grief occasioned to their relations ; a black scalping 
 knife or hatchet at the bottom, to mark their being killed 
 with those instruments ; sixteen others, hair very gray ; 
 black hoops ; plain brown color ; no marks but the short 
 club or casse-tete, to show they were knocked down dead 
 or had their brains beat out. 
 
 '' '6. Containing 200 boys' scalps of various ages ; 
 small green hoops ; whitish ground on the skin, with red 
 tears in the middle and black bullet marks, knife, hatchet 
 or club, as their deaths happened. 
 
 " *7. Two hundred girls scalped, big and little; small 
 
33 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 yellow hoops, white ground ; tears, hatchet, club, scalping 
 knife, as their death happened. 
 
 '* *8. This package is a mixture of all the varieties 
 above mentioned, to the number of 120, with a box of 
 birch bark, containing thirty little infants' scalps of vari- 
 ous sizes ; small white hoops with white ground. 
 
 '' 'With these packs the chiefs send to Your Excellency 
 the following speech, delivered by Coneiogatchie in coun- 
 cil : ''Father, we send you herewith many scalps that 
 you may see we are not idle friends. Father, we wish 
 you to send these scalps over the water to the great King,- 
 that he may regard them and be refreshed and that he 
 may see our faithfulness in destroying his enemies, and 
 be convinced that his presents have not been made to an 
 ungrateful people." ' " 
 
 One of the first utterances on the subject of Indians in 
 the Revolutionary War is to be found in the Declaration 
 of Independence, in which George III. is arraigned be- 
 cause "he has endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of 
 our frontiers the merciless Indian savages, whose known 
 rule of warfare is an undistinguished destruction of all 
 ages, sexes and conditions." 
 
 Four days after the adoption of the Declaration of 
 Independence, Congress adopted an address to the people 
 of Great Britain. The address to the people of Ireland, 
 in which it is asserted that "the wild and barbarous sav- 
 ages of the wilderness have been solicited by gifts to take 
 up the hatchet against us, and instigated to deluge our 
 settlements with the blood of defenseless women and 
 children," was agreed to July 28, 1775. The address to 
 the people of Ireland is dated May 10, 1775, the date of 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 33 
 
 the assembling of Congress, but the address was agreed 
 to July 28. 
 
 At the commencement of the Revolution, England, 
 knowing the value of the Indian in ''warfare," began buy- 
 ing the chiefs of the savages. As early as July, 1775, 
 John Stuart, a loyalist of Charleston, S. C, and at the 
 time in the pay of England, received a letter from Gen. 
 Gage, the English commander-in-chief, which contained 
 instructions ''to improve a correspondence with the In- 
 dians to the greatest advantage, and even when oppor- 
 tunity offers make them take arms against His Majesty's 
 enemies, and distress them all in your power; for no 
 terms are to be kept with them; * * * in short, no 
 time should be lost to distress a set of people so wantonly 
 rebellious." Stuart proceeded to carry out the desires 
 of his superior, and, in a letter of October 3, reported 
 progress. 
 
 From England instructions were forwarded on July 5, 
 1775, by Lord Dartmouth to Col. Johnson, to "keep the 
 Indians in such a state of affection and attachment to the 
 King as that His Majesty may rely upon their assistance 
 in any case in which it may be necessary." Previously 
 Congress had sent commissioners to the various Indian 
 tribes requesting them to make common cause with them 
 against England, or if not willing to take up arms to at 
 least remain neutral. 
 
 When the tidings of this event reached England, Dart- 
 n.iouth sent word again to Johnson as follows : "The in- 
 telligence His Majesty has received of the rebels having 
 excited the Indians to take a part, and of their having 
 actually engaged a body of them in arms to support their 
 
34 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 rebellion, justifies the resolution His Majesty has taken of 
 requiring the assistance of his faithful adherents, the Six 
 Nations. It is, therefore, His Majesty's pleasure that you 
 do lose no time in taking such steps as may induce them 
 to take up the hatchet against His Majesty's rebellious 
 subjects in America, and to engage them in His Majesty's 
 service, upon such plan as shall be suggested by Gen. 
 Gage." This work Johnson had already accomplished 
 even before Dartmouth had placed the British Govern- 
 ment on record as willing to employ Indians in the war. 
 
 The attitude assumed by the British Government in the 
 order of July 24 represented the position which was re- 
 tained during the remainder of the war. From Halifax 
 on June 7, 1776, Gen. Howe assured Lord George 
 Germain that his best endeavors would be used to engage 
 the Indians of the Six Nations, and he hoped by the 
 influence of Col. Guy Johnson to make them useful. 
 In the Fall of 1776 Germain forwarded a supply of pres- 
 ents to the Indians, and called the attention of the 
 generals in command to the necessity of securing their 
 services. 
 
 The greatest of all the Indian chiefs who were in the 
 pay of England during the seven years of the war for 
 American independence, was Joseph Brant. The Indian 
 Commissioner, Col. Guy Johnson, knowing well the use 
 of this savage chief, made him his secretary and sent him 
 to England, where he was received by George III., in 
 person, and others with consideration. After a brief stay 
 Brant returned to Canada, while his memory of British 
 adulation was still fresh, and at the head of his savages 
 commanded at the battle of Cedar Rapids. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 35 
 
 Soon after, Brant, to show his consideration for the 
 audience with George III., led his savages to a conference 
 at Cherry Valley, and there pledged the fortunes of his 
 men to the service of England. Brant, now spurred on 
 by British gold, led his men in attacks on defenseless 
 towns, and soon ''had shown himself," to use the words 
 of Col. Claus, "to be the most faithful and zealous subject 
 His Majesty could have in America." He did his work 
 unsparingly and ruin marked his track. 
 
 The valley of Wyoming is one of the most romantic 
 and historic localities in the country. It was a little 
 town situated on the Susquehanna River, in Luzerne 
 County, Pa. At the commencement of the Revolution 
 the inhabitants of this peaceful town, eagerly and in large 
 numbers, enlisted themselves in the army. By June, 
 1776, nearly every able-bodied man of Wyoming was 
 away in the service of the Continental army. In the Fall 
 of 1776 two companies had been raised in the valley and 
 ordered to join Washington's army. The withdrawal of 
 so large a proportion of the able-bodied men as had been 
 enlisted in the Continental service threw upon the old 
 men and boys who were left behind the duty of guarding 
 the forts. 
 
 Repeated alarms during the Summer of 1777 com- 
 pelled the young men to scour the woods, but their vigi- 
 lance did not prevent some prisoners being taken by the 
 Indians. In March, 1778, another military company was 
 organized by Congress, to be employed for home defense. 
 In May attacks were made upon the scouting parties by 
 Indians, who were the forerunners of an invading army. 
 The exposed situation of the settlement, the prosperity of 
 
36 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 the inhabitants and the loyalt}^ with which they had re- 
 sponded to the call for troops excited the rage and thirst 
 of the Indians and Tories. 
 
 Such was the defenseless condition of the valley when 
 an expedition of Tories and Indians, under Brant, aided 
 by some English soldiers, prepared to fall upon Wyom- 
 ing. The inhabitants, aged and young, and even women, 
 fearing the intended attack, armed themselves, and de- 
 termined to fight the Indians and the more savage Tories. 
 On July 3 a council of war was held, and Col. Zebulon 
 Butler was appointed commander of the small force that 
 was to cope with the bloodthirsty combinations. They 
 resolved to anticipate the threatened attack by marching 
 against the enemy. 
 
 Calling his faithful companions — 300 aged men and 
 boys — around hini, Col. Butler thus addressed them: 
 *'Men, yonder is the enemy. The fate of the Hardings 
 tells us what we have to expect if defeated. We come 
 out to fight not only for liberty, but for life itself, and, 
 what is dearer, to preserve our homes from conflagration, 
 our women and children from the tomahawk. Stand 
 firm the first shock; the Indians will give way. Every 
 man to his duty." 
 
 It was about 4 o'clock, the sky cloudless, and the heat 
 quite oppressive. The Americans were ordered to ad- 
 vance a step at. each fire. Soon the battle became gen- 
 eral, and the British left, where Col. Butler appeared, 
 with a handkerchief around his head, earnestly cheering 
 his men, began to give way. But a flanking party of 
 Indians, which covered that wing of the enemy, and was 
 concealed under some bushes upon the river bank, kept 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 37 
 
 up a galling fire. In the meantime the Indian sharp- 
 shooters along the line kept up a horrid yell, the sound 
 of which reached the women and children at the fort. 
 
 For nearly an hour the battle was waged with unceas- 
 ing energy on both sides, but the vastly superior number 
 of the enemy began to manifest its advantage. The In- 
 dians on the American left, sheltered and half concealed 
 by the swamp, succeeded in outflanking Col. Dennison, 
 and fell with terrible force upon his rear. He was thus 
 exposed to the cross fire of the Tories and Indians. Per- 
 ceiving this he ordered his men to fall back in order to 
 change his position. The order was mistaken for one of 
 retreat. That word w^as uttered with fatal distinction 
 along the line, and his whole division fled in confusion at 
 the moment when the British left was giving way. 
 
 A few more minutes might have given victory to the 
 patriots. Col. Butler and Col. Dorrance used every exer- 
 tion to rally and retrieve the loss, but in vain. Col. 
 Butler, seemingly unconscious of danger, rode along the 
 lines exposed to the fire, beseeching his troops to remain 
 firm. "Don't leave me, my children !" he exclaimed, "and 
 the victory is ours !" But it was too late ; the Indians 
 leaped forward like wounded tigers. Every American 
 captain that led a company into action was slain at the 
 head of his men. Longer resistance was vain, and the 
 whole American line, broken, shattered and dispersed, 
 fled in confusion. 
 
 The scene that ensued was terrible indeed. A party of 
 Indians rushed forward to cut off the retreat, while the 
 rest, following the main army, who fled through the fields 
 of grain toward Monocasy Island, slaughtered them by 
 
38 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 scores. Many who could not swim and hesitated upon 
 the brink of the river, were shot down, and others, who 
 hid themselves in bushes upon the shore, were dragged 
 out and shot or tomahawked, regardless of their cry for 
 quarter. Many swam to Monocasy Island, whither their 
 pursuers followed and hunted them like deers in cover. 
 Others were shot while swimming, and some who were 
 lured back to the shore by promises of quarter were 
 butchered without mercy. Of the 300 who went that 
 morning, the names are recorded of 162 officers and men 
 killed in the action or in the massacre which followed. 
 Major Butler, the British officer in command, reported 
 the taking of "227 scalps and only five prisoners." Only 
 a few escaped to the eastern side of the river and fled in 
 safety to the mountains. 
 
 "Fort Niagara," says the historian Lossing, in reciting 
 further details of the massacre, "was a British post, the 
 common rallying place of Tories and savages, of refugees 
 and vagabonds. And here many a dark deed of venge- 
 ance was planned. In June a party sailed forth, 1,200 
 strong, composed of desperadoes and Indians, who, 
 after laying waste the country on the route, descended 
 upon the fair settlement of Wyoming, massacring its 
 inhabitants in the most brutal and fiendish manner. 
 
 "The able-bodied male population — 1,000 — were 
 chiefly away in the army; Col. Butler, officer in the 
 Continental army, was home on a furlough and gathered 
 the old men and boys. But his force, all told, mustered 
 less than three hundred, and the horde of invaders, more 
 than twice as numerous, knew the woods well and had 
 come to destroy and deal death, not to recover and hold. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION, 39 
 
 In the engagement nine-tenths of the heroic defenders 
 were killed and scalped. 
 
 "The English commander boastfully reported having 
 burned 1,000 houses and every mill in the valley. He 
 omitted to state that in several instances old men, women 
 and children were shut into the buildings and all con- 
 sumed together; or that monsters in human shape — the 
 Tories — painted like Indians, took the lives of persons 
 with diabolical fury. A horrified group of survivors fled 
 through a pass in the hills to the eastern settlements. 
 Then the bloodthirsty marauders left the smoking scene 
 of solitary desolation and turned toward the region of 
 Rochester to continue their terrible work." 
 
 "After the savages had completed their work of 
 slaughter in the field," says Giraudin, "they immediately 
 proceeded to invest Fort Kingston, to which Col. Den- 
 nison had fled with the small remnant of Butler's troops 
 and the defenseless women and children. In such a state 
 of weakness the defense of the fort was out of the ques- 
 tion, and all that remained to Dennison was to attempt to 
 gain some advantageous terms by the offer of surrender. 
 For this purpose he went himself to the savage chief 
 (Brant) ; but that inhuman monster, that Christian can- 
 nibal in the pay of England, replied to the question of 
 terms that he should grant them the hatchet. 
 
 "He was more than true to his word, for when, after 
 resisting until all his garrison were killed or disabled, 
 Col. Dennison was compelled to surrender at discretion, 
 his merciless conqueror, tired of scalping, and finding the 
 slow process of individual murder insufficient to glut his 
 appetite, shut up all that remained in the houses and 
 
40 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 barracks, and by the summary aid of fire reduced all at 
 cnce to one promiscuous heap of ashes. Nothing now 
 remained that wore the face of resistance to these savage 
 invaders but the little fort of Wilkesborough, into which 
 about seventy of Col. Butler's men had effected their 
 retreat. 
 
 "These with about the same number of Continental 
 soldiery, constituted its whole force, and when the enemy 
 appeared before them they surrendered without even ask- 
 ing conditions, under the hope that their voluntary 
 obedience might find some mercy. But mercy dwelt not 
 in the bosoms of these savages and Tories; submission 
 could not stay their insatiable thirst of blood. The 
 cruelties and barbarities which were practiced upon these 
 unresisting soldiers were even more wanton, if possible, 
 than those which had been exhibited at Fort Kingston. 
 These seventy Continental soldiers were deliberately 
 butchered in cold succession ; and then a repetition of the 
 same scene of general and promiscuous conflagration 
 took place which had closed the tragedy at the other fort. 
 Men, women and children were locked up in the houses 
 and left to mingle their cries and screams with the flames 
 that mocked the power of an avenging God." 
 
 Thomas Campbell, in his well-known poem, "Gertrude 
 of Wyoming," describes the conflict. An Oneida Indian 
 has just announced to two of the characters in the story 
 the expected attack, and the poem continues thus: 
 
 "Scarce had he uttered when heaven's verge extreme 
 Reverberates the bomb's descending star, 
 
 And sounds that mingled laugh, and shout, and scream, 
 To freeze the blood in one discordant jar. 
 
' BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 41 
 
 Rung to the pealing thunderbolts of war. 
 
 Whoop after whoop with rack the ear assailed, 
 
 As if unearthly fiends had burst their bar; 
 While rapidly the marksman's shot prevailed, 
 And aye, as if for death, some lonely trumpet wailed. 
 
 Then looked they to the hills, where fire o'erhung. 
 
 The bandit groups in force were there. 
 Or swept, far seen, the tower, whose clock unrung 
 
 Told legible that midnight of despair. 
 
42 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 TAMMANY. 
 
 Tammany Hall called the baboons and chimpanzees in 
 Central Park O'Briens and Murphys, instead of Hewitts, 
 Ernests and McArthurs, disciples of the convent burners. 
 That, indeed, was not very complimentary to the Irish 
 voters and taxpayers of America. Irish-American voters 
 defeated James G. Blaine for the Presidency of the United 
 States because Tammany wanted a man who acknowl- 
 edged that he was a sworn member of the United Order 
 of American Mechanics, the spurious spawn of the old 
 Know Nothing Party that burned the convent in 
 Charlestown, Mass., with nine Sisters of Charity 
 inside its walls. Yes, and the sister of the man who 
 was sent to the White House by Irish-American voters 
 instead of James G. Blaine wrote a book assailing the 
 good, pure Sisters of Charity, no doubt because the years 
 of her spinsterhood were a foregone conclusion. 
 
 Blaine's opponent was England's choice as well as 
 Tammany's. Tammany would support Judas Iscariot 
 against Robert Emmet, provided the former believed in 
 the democracy founded by Tammany, not by Jefferson. 
 
 Tammany or its disciples never supported any Irish- 
 man for office, no matter how menial that office was, and 
 still the organization claims a mortgage on every Irish- 
 man's vote the minute he becomes naturalized. When 
 Gen. Thomas Francis Burk ran for Congress in New 
 York City, Tammany defeated him and elected in his 
 place a German. Burk's only crime was that he was cap- 
 tured in Ireland with arms in his hands fighting against 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 43 
 
 England. He was sentenced to be hanged, drawn and 
 quartered; later his sentence was commuted. He was 
 released and came to America, ran for Congress, was 
 defeated by Tammany, who elected Nicholas Miiller. 
 This is only one instance of Tammany's perfidy. 
 
 No Irishman can obtain either a municipal or Federal 
 position in the City of New York and retain it any length 
 of time if he be known to be a member of any Irish revo- 
 lutionary organization, as John Bull is as predominant in 
 New York as he is in London. Take, for instance, the 
 case of O'Donovan Rossa, who spent the best years of 
 his manhood behind prison bars, and who wore chains 
 for his beloved country, and who now carries the hired 
 assassin's bullet in his body for advocating the destruc- 
 tion of the rotten British Empire by any means available 
 — the use of dynamite, Greek fire, osmic acid or any other 
 fire or acid within the reach of Irishmen, every one 
 of which the writer would use against England and with- 
 out any more conscientious scruples than the English 
 Government had when women and children were bay- 
 oneted in the streets of Clonakilty; yes, and even the un- 
 born babes were taken from their mothers' wombs and 
 carried on bayonets through the streets. 
 
 O'Donovan Rossa could not get a dollar-a-day job 
 in New York to-day from Tammany Hall or any other 
 hall on account of his connection with Irish aflfairs, not- 
 withstanding the fact that the majority of the Sachems of 
 Tammany Hall are either Irish or Irish descent. Rossa 
 is too bad a man (in the opinion of the Anglo-maniac poli- 
 ticians), but how many men holding ofhce in New York 
 City were tried for wilful murder? Let Orange Croker 
 
44 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 answer the question, if he can spare the time, for he is 
 now hobnobbing with the Enghsh nobihty. 
 
 If Rossa were not a staunch Irishman before his im- 
 prisonment, how in heaven's name could EngHsh prisons 
 make him an Irishman? He was just as sterHng an 
 Irishman forty years ago as he is to-day, but he would 
 not be a participant in ballot-box stuffing, consequently 
 no Irishman of his type need apply for political position 
 in New York City. Even 'the son of the ilustrious John 
 Mitchell wa^ "thrown down" by English influence in the 
 "great Irish city" of America. Thank God ! I never 
 wanted a position from either of the New York govern- 
 ments. I would rather fill a grave in Potter's Field than 
 cater to a New York politician for a job. 
 
 No doubt Tammany will be doing business at the same 
 old corrupt stand when I am in my grave ; and when 
 O'Donovan Rossa will have been canonized saint, Tam- 
 many may exist and English influence predominate, and 
 St. Patrick's Day Irishmen may ride gray horses and wear 
 green sashes; but the disciples of Robert Emmet, Wolfe 
 Tone, O'Donovan Rossa, John Mitchell, Charley Doran, 
 etc., will also be living and will be held in more esteem 
 than all the politicians that existed since the burning of 
 the convent in Charlestown by the Know Nothing Party, 
 and the Cellar Brigade, the A. P. As., who tried to defeat 
 Theodore Roosevelt for Governor of New York State, 
 and who advocated the practice of polygamy in Utah 
 under our glorious banner established by the Father of 
 our country, the illustrious George Washington. 
 
 Ever since New York had an A. P. A. mayor this kind 
 of corruption has existed in politics. Roll on ye caterers 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 45 
 
 to toadyism ! Roll on and give John Bull what he asks 
 for in 3^our great city. Keep Irishmen who swore to free 
 their country from the grasp of British tyranny out of 
 your ranks. Make room for the Crokers and Dudleys, 
 the Everetts and the Hays, and keep out the Mitchells, 
 the Rossas and the Costellos ; they are too antagonistic to 
 British influence in your great cosmopolitan City of New 
 York. Supplant them with Hewitts, McArthurs, Myers, 
 Rainsfords; give all these gentlemen (?) platform seats, 
 as the "pit" is good enough for the Fords, the Roaches 
 and the Finnertys. They are all *'red-hot" Irishmen and 
 do not know how to colonize quarters or stuff ballot 
 boxes. And they call this Jeffersonian Democracy! Go 
 vora Dhia Lin. 
 
 The Choate politicians of the Westminster type are 
 always welcome in New York. The Irish or Irish- 
 American School Commissioners should compel such 
 A. P. A. teachers as Ernest (of public school fame) to 
 teach pupils true American history instead of tearing 
 down Erin's emblem, and from the clothes of the children 
 of a New York police captain, too! With such sewer 
 rats filling municipal positions in our great city, is it any 
 wonder that decent people should be disgusted with New 
 York office holders? 
 
 Thirty thousand paraders marching to the music of Ger- 
 man bands, and their colors torn from the clothes of little 
 innocent children, and the little picayune bigot of an abor- 
 tion or miscarriage is still allowed to do business at the 
 old stand, with all the Irish taxpayers of New York con- 
 tributing to keep him there — tha go bra. 
 
 Yes, and the boys who wear the sashes on the ITth of 
 
46 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 March elected an A. P. A. Mayor of New York, one of 
 whose first official acts of gratitude to his Irish con- 
 stituents was to order down Erin's flag on St. Patrick's 
 Day. Were Hodgins of age and "running for office" he 
 would be defeated by the rowdy element of the different 
 wards of this city, despite the lad's manly resistance 
 against an unprincipled, bigoted pedagogue, who in all 
 probability could not quote four lines of America's 
 national anthem. I doubt if he would be able to tell 
 when Columbus was born, but undoubtedly he would be 
 able to tell where the defunct A. P. A. held forth pre- 
 vious to their abortion. 
 
 Bravo, young Hodgins ! You are a credit to the 
 mother who bore you, and should you ever "run for of- 
 fice" in your native city you will have my humble vote 
 and support. I care not whether you "run" on the 
 Democratic or Republican ticket; you are possessed of 
 the right mettle, and in all probability if you were a few 
 years older this little rat would not have things his own 
 way. I only wish all Irish-Americans were of your way 
 of thinking. 
 
 The Hewitts, the Crokers and the A. P. Apes — termed 
 Pusillanimous Aggregation of American Asses — whose 
 abortion is now placarded everywhere, from Maine to 
 California, in their favorite meeting places — the lava- 
 tories — before Price, the stationery dealer of San Fran- 
 cisco, went to San Quentin for sending obscene literature 
 through the mails. 
 
 Price peached on another A. P. Ape engaged in the 
 same hellish business, thinking he could have a corner 
 in the filthy reading and form an A. P. A. trust on a small 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 47 
 
 scale, but he was caught in his own trap and wore chains 
 for the Apes for two years and six months (a just reward 
 for his perfidy). He was not only a licentious black- 
 guard, but also an informer. He and the satchel doctors 
 are no acquisition to our American institutions. Yet 
 these are the people who shout aloud in their cellars: 
 "Avaunt, you foreigners ! Go back to where you came 
 from. We want no foreigners here, especially Papists." 
 Still the Apes murder the innocent babes before they are 
 born and also stab in the back whenever they get a chance. 
 
 One man whom we should all highly appreciate is living 
 in the White House — a man, not a politician, and one who 
 is as free from bigotry as the Atlantic Ocean is of small- 
 pox; consequently he is as obnoxious to the Apes as a 
 plague at a camp meeting. The McArthurs, who are nor 
 even citizens of this glorious land, and their followers are 
 pushed to the front by Irish-American voters of New 
 York. How long, O Lord, how long is this state of affairs 
 to last? Ye Gods! How easily the Irish-American voters 
 of this great metropolis are gulled. The bait is thrown 
 out to them by the Crokers, and they bite every time. 
 
 The principles of the Democracy founded by Thomas 
 Jefferson are as different from those of Tammany Hall 
 as a chimpanzee is superior to the A. P. Apes in both 
 quality and quantity — the one will fight fairly, with his 
 face to the enemy, while the other will stab in the back. 
 
 The Roman Catholic votes of New York elected an 
 A. P. A. Mayor, and, strange to say, all the A. P. A.'s 
 forming the dark lantern brigade take a solemn and 
 binding oath never to support a Roman Catholic ''run- 
 ning for any ofiice," no matter how menial. Think of 
 
48 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 this, you sash bearers and Crokerites. Think of the time 
 when you defeated Henry George, when Dr. McGlynn 
 was suspended through the instrumentaHty of Tammany 
 Hall for supporting him against the A. P. A. candidate 
 who helped to put the rope around the brave and fearless 
 Patrick O'Donnell, who shed his blood in defense of our 
 glorious Union. 
 
 I was on the floor of the House of Representatives 
 in Washington when Hewitt took the resolutions out 
 of Capt. Ed. O'Meagher Condon's hand and told 
 Condon they were too strong: that they should be modi- 
 fled. He then wrote out some kind of resolutions and 
 presented them. Carlisle, who was at that time Speaker 
 of the House, recognized Hewitt, and the resolutions were 
 passed; that same day on the way from the National 
 Capitol Hewitt stopped at the British Minister's (Sack- 
 ville West's) house and apologized for what he had 
 done. 
 
 John Finerty, of Chicago, was Congressman at that 
 time, and he did his best to save poor O'Donnell ; so did 
 Richelieu Robinson, but all of no avail. John Bull 
 was supreme in Washington in those days. O'Don- 
 nell was hanged and the man who helped hang him 
 was a few years later elected A. P. A. Mayor of New 
 York by the men who wear green sashes and ride gray 
 horses on St. Patrick's Day, and allow a school teacher 
 (no doubt Saxonized in some kind of a British workshop) 
 to tear the shamrocks ofl^ Capt. Hodgin's little son's 
 clothes. Well, well ! And McPartland still lives under cover 
 like Rody the Rover, forming secret societies and putting 
 up dirty jobs; and Sheridan, the confessed mutilator of 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 49 
 
 dumb beasts, is allowed an asylum under the banner of 
 the free. Wonders will never cease. Justitia fiat autem 
 solse revolatit. 
 
 When O 'Donovan Rossa ran for State Senator in New 
 York he was lawfully elected, but counted out by Irish- 
 American Tammany office holders, who counted in a 
 man since sentenced to thirteen years in a New York 
 State penitentiary, and who died wearing a convict's garb. 
 
 God save Ireland! 
 
50 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 FAREWELL TO IRELAND. 
 
 On the sixteenth day of August, in eighteen sixty- 
 eight, 
 
 1 left my native Ireland, being forced to emigrate. 
 
 The rents and taxes were too high, at home I could 
 not stay; 
 
 So I heaved a sigh and said ''Good-by; I'm going far 
 away." 
 
 The thought of leaving home, and while in my boy- 
 hood years. 
 
 Caused me to weep — but not through fear — some very 
 bitter tears. 
 
 On board the good ship Denmark we ploughed the raging 
 sea. 
 
 With hearts and spirits light and gay for the land of 
 liberty. 
 
 While passing by die Fastnet Rock, convenient to Cape 
 Clear, 
 
 I saw the hills around my home and shed a silent tear. 
 
 On deck that night I made a vow I'd be to Ireland true. 
 
 And greater grew my love for her while on the ocean 
 blue. 
 
 While on the broad Atlantic I thought of all her woes, 
 
 And bitter grew my hatred for her ruthless, cruel foes ; 
 
 Though I was but a youngster, not yet quite eighteen, 
 
 I longed to be a Fenian and wear a suit of green. 
 
 So when I landed in New York to headquarters I did 
 steer, 
 
 And there I saw the captain and became a volunteer. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 51 
 
 At Pigeon Hill soon after we raised our flag of green, 
 One May, the twenty- fourth, the birthday of England's 
 
 Queen. 
 How it ended in disaster it is needless now to tell ; 
 How the base LeCaron sold us and the flag of Ireland 
 
 fell. 
 O'Neill was our commander, a soldier brave was he, 
 Who fought beneath the Stars and Stripes, the colored 
 
 folk to free. 
 Since then IVe been a wanderer 'neath the red, the white 
 
 and blue. 
 But to that land that gave me birth I always will be true. 
 I've been in California, and down in Mexico, 
 Montana and Wyoming and also Idaho; 
 Though I've traveled many lands there's none so dear 
 
 to me 
 As that persecuted little isle that sparkles in the sea. 
 The vilest reptiles of this earth lay claim to Irish soil, 
 While the bone and sinew of our race for them do daily 
 
 toil; 
 The ill-got gains of Cromwell's race in vile debauch are 
 
 spent, 
 While the sons and daughters of the Gael across the sea 
 
 are sent 
 To seek a home 'mong strangers far, far from mother's 
 
 care. 
 Some destined ne'er to see again their native isle so fair. 
 I never shall forget when I bade mother dear good-by. 
 The sad expression on her face when she began to cry. 
 "You're going far away," said she, " 'tis sad to part 
 
 with you, 
 
52 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Your father's heart is breaking, alas! what shall I do?" 
 She said her daily prayers would be to see again once 
 
 more 
 Beside her by the old fireside her bauchail baan astoir. 
 The following year a letter came which brought sad news 
 
 to me, 
 My father he was dying, far, far across the sea ; 
 He thought that he would die in peace if he could see 
 
 again 
 The boy who left a year ago to sail across the main. 
 When I received that letter I said I wouldn't wait, 
 I went aboard a ship next day, alas ! it was too late. 
 That face my father longed to see he never did see more, 
 For he was in his silent grave before I reached the shore ; 
 And mother died some years ago — they're buried in one 
 
 grave 
 
 On an Irish hillside by the sea, may peace be theirs I 
 
 crave. 
 Their boy is now a full-grown man, whose night thoughts 
 
 often fly 
 To Ardfield Graveyard on that hill where both my parents 
 
 lie. 
 And now a girl of Irish race has won my hand and heart, 
 And won my vows to cherish her till death us both would 
 
 part ; 
 In Brooklyn I am living, with wife and children dear, 
 But all along for Ireland's cause I am a volunteer; 
 And would again go to the front, there is no change in 
 
 me; 
 I'm willing as I was of yore to strike for liberty. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 53 
 
 Though years since then are passed away and marked 
 upon my brow, 
 
 I've ne'er forgotten Innisfail, I'm thinking of her now. 
 
 Sad is it to have to part from all we loved so well, 
 
 And sad to say to all we loved the parting word "fare- 
 well"; 
 
 With my new love are now my thoughts, anear or far 
 away — 
 
 That girl that I love dearly in Hart street, near Broadway. 
 
 BANTRY BAY. 
 
 I'm thinking now of ninety-eight, and sadly do bewail 
 The fate of those who left their homes for Bantry to set 
 
 sail. 
 There was one among them to Irishmen well known, 
 Whose memory soon we'll celebrate — the martyred, brave 
 
 Wolfe Tone. 
 Tis sad to think of those dear scenes in distant climes 
 
 away, 
 Where first I played upon the green at dear old Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
 When last I saw my native town surrounded by her hills, 
 I thought of all her glories, her sorrows and her ills ; 
 Her maids so fair with rosy cheeks, most charming to be- 
 hold, 
 Anear or far it is well known, by every one adored. 
 
54 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Those childhood days of happiness I think of night and 
 
 day, 
 And memory fills this aching heart for dear old Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
 Dear native town, no tongue can tell how dear you are 
 
 to me. 
 And would to God that I could strike a blow to set you 
 
 free. 
 If e'er I visit you again I hope that it will be 
 To drive the Saxons from our land and fight for liberty. 
 Jer. Mullin and McCarthy, Bill Downing and O'Shea 
 Would rally round our flag of green at dear old Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
 Now in a foreign country, 'mid scenes and faces new, 
 My heart flies back to you, dear town, so gentle, kind and 
 
 true. 
 How well do I remember your Main street and your 
 
 quay. 
 Your public square and cove so grand and Saxon 
 
 Battery ; 
 Your illustrious sons and daughters, T can for them 
 
 proudly say 
 That they never feared a redcoat at dear old Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
 Dear native hills and valleys, where in childhood I did 
 
 roam, 
 I think of you in distant climes far from the dear old 
 
 home; 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 55 
 
 Though in a foreign country, I love you more and more. 
 And bless the hours that I have spent with you in days 
 
 of yore. 
 Oh ! how I long my bark to steer and hear the lookout say, 
 ''There on the lee the land I see near dear old Bantry 
 
 Bay." 
 
 Bold Doheny, in forty-eight, an outlawed man was he, 
 Close to your town he wrote that song called "Cushla 
 
 GalMachree." 
 There was another Irishman who once was light and airy, 
 Who fought with Gen. John O'Neill, his name is Pat 
 
 O'Leary ; 
 He fought in far-off Canada at the Battle of Ridgeway, 
 And showed John Bull what he could do for dear old 
 
 Bantry Bay. 
 
 Now fare 3''ou well, dear Bantry, likewise Glengariff's 
 
 shore. 
 Perhaps that I am destined to see your face no more. 
 Though in a foreign country, for you I'll always mourn. 
 And with a change of government to you I would return. 
 Your sons and daughters then so merrily would say. 
 Welcome from Columbia to dear old Bantry Bay. 
 
 Your maidens and your matrons with smiles of purity 
 Are a credit to that ancient town wherever they may be ; 
 Your bronzed and rugged boatmen, how well their crafts 
 
 they steer 
 Before the wind with all sail free from Whiddy to Cape 
 
 Clear. 
 
56 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 My fondest hope is that they may see the dawn of free- 
 dom's day, 
 And freemen all on land and sea in dear old Bantry Bay. 
 
 Glengariff and famed Keimaneigh are places I know 
 
 well, 
 The Priest's Leap and Cohomola where patriots do dwell ; 
 Durrus and Dunboy Castle, where Philip nobly fought 
 Against the Saxon hirelings whose lives he dearly sought. 
 Famed castle town of old renown enchantingly doth lay, 
 Where O'Sullivan Beare did the English scare in dear old 
 
 Bantry Bay. 
 
 THOUGHTS OF THE FENIAN DAYS. 
 
 When I left home in sixty-eight to cross the deep blue 
 
 sea, 
 Good men and true were living then who'd fight for 
 
 liberty ; 
 We had no Land League in those days, though tyrants 
 
 quaked with fear. 
 When the manhood of old Erin's Isle to fight would 
 
 volunteer. 
 The bone and sinew of our race were ready at the call. 
 To strike for home and liberty with musket, blade and 
 
 ball; 
 Doran brave and Dillon, Murphy and O'Neill, 
 With their beds upon the heather and brightly shining 
 
 steel. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 57 
 
 In those good old days the landlords sought protection 
 
 night and day, 
 For the Fenians were the leaguers then preparing for the 
 
 fray; 
 The barracks were made bullet-proof, the Peelers to 
 
 protect, 
 For a volley from the 1. R. B. they hourly did expect. 
 Such men as Captain Mackey and Kilclooney, Crowley 
 
 too, 
 Rossa and O'Mahoney for tyrants made it blue ; 
 Their preaching and their teaching made Irishmen unite. 
 For they were willing at that time to fight with all their 
 
 might. 
 
 Alas, the time has changed since then, we have no army 
 now, 
 
 The people seem contented and to Land Leaguers do 
 bow; 
 
 Do they forget the centuries of torture and of hate, 
 
 The murder of our people in good old ninety-eight? 
 
 The babes and mothers murdered from morning till sun- 
 down. 
 
 Their brains bespattered in the streets of Clonakilty town ? 
 
 The best and bravest of our race were banished far and 
 wide 
 
 And forced to leave their happy homes upon the green 
 hillside. 
 
 Can Irishmen forget such acts and now contented be. 
 And think that agitation will set old Ireland free? 
 
58 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 The sword alone will wrest our rights the Saxon knows 
 
 full well, 
 For he has dealt us blows as foul, aye, blows as black as 
 
 hell. 
 Then why should we give up the cause for which our 
 
 fathers died? 
 Nay ! Strike for home with shot and shell, by them we 
 
 should abide. 
 So, Irishmen, get ready, renew once more the fight, 
 To strike for home and liberty should be your heart's 
 
 delight. 
 
 All traitors to our sacred cause no quarter should be 
 
 given. 
 But should be hounded night and day and from old 
 
 Ireland driven. 
 Should they refuse to fall in line, like traitors they should 
 
 die. 
 With scarce a minute's warning upon a gallows high. 
 I see no reason why our isle in bondage now should be, 
 We should unite with all our might and strike for liberty. 
 The Leaguers and the Fenians should join with heart and 
 
 hand 
 And deal John Bull that longed-for blow through all the 
 
 dear old land. 
 
 The North and South should now unite and both stand 
 
 side by side, 
 And think of God and country and cast their creeds aside. 
 The orange and the green as their emblems should 
 
 entwine, 
 
. BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 59 
 
 And shake their hands for Ireland's cause once more 
 across the Boyne. 
 
 When England hears of unity the "sponge" she will 
 throw down, 
 
 And give us what she stole from us in valley, hill and 
 town. 
 
 Then the union of the Irish race will ring from shore to 
 shore, 
 
 And then the Orange and the Green be friends for ever- 
 more. 
 
 ON LEAVING IRELAND. 
 
 Oh, why must I reluctantly from you, dear land, depart, 
 And cross the wild Atlantic with a heavy, aching heart? 
 The rich are traitors to your cause and loyal to the Crown, 
 But soon, thank God, we'll take our stand and tear their 
 
 colors down. 
 Too long we've borne the alien yoke, too long the Saxon 
 
 chain, 
 But now this yoke we do defy, we'll rend it soon in twain. 
 The sons and daughters of the Gael united now doth 
 
 stand, 
 And bid defiance to John Bull and his Iscariot band. 
 
 Chorus. 
 The government J, P.'s and dispensary M. D.'s 
 Are loyal to King Edward like some of the M. P.'s. 
 Avaunt ! I say, you're knaves, you are traitors ; you are 
 
 slaves 
 And you should never have the chance to lie in freemen's 
 
 Sfraves. 
 
60 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. . 
 
 In Ireland I found, since I came from 'cross the sea, 
 The tradesmen and mechanics all willing to be free ; 
 The laborer and the farmer who toil the live-long day, 
 Working for the Plunderer who their hearts' blood drains 
 
 away. 
 These are the men to fall in line prepared to do or die, 
 And now are waiting one and all to hear the battle cry^ 
 "Faugh-a-Ballagh" is our watchword, the hour is nigh at 
 
 hand 
 To strike a blow for liberty to free the dear old land. 
 
 The squireens and the shoneens who are praying for old 
 
 King Ned, 
 And Peter the 'Tacker" on the bench with wig upon his 
 
 head ; 
 The parson and the Peeler and a shopkeeper or two 
 Are traitors to our sacred cause when now they should 
 
 be true. 
 Alas ! Alas ! that they were bred upon my native soil 
 To help the marauders our happy homes to spoil ; 
 But there is a day of reckoning, thank God it's near at 
 
 hand, 
 When we will banish all of them from out our native 
 
 land. 
 
 I found the rich were willing slaves and wanted 
 
 monarchy, 
 Afraid they'd lose their ill-got gains if Ireland should be 
 
 free. 
 To see these cringing starvelings, slaves, when the fleet 
 
 came to town, 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 61 
 
 Begging for the patronage of minions of the Crown. 
 Some wearing bands upon their hats of England's King 
 
 and Queen, 
 Who murdered Robert Emmet for the love he bore the 
 
 green. 
 Think of the Irish girl who is forced to leave her home 
 And in a foreign land, among strangers, there to roam. 
 
 LEAVING HOME. 
 
 Alas! Alas! in foreign lands six thousand miles from 
 
 home. 
 Thinking of my native hills in distant climes to roam ; 
 I left your fertile plains, asthore, when I was young in 
 
 years, 
 And when I kissed a mother dear she wiped away her 
 
 tears. 
 I left her with a broken heart to travel far away ; 
 Heart and brain with care oppressed I sailed from Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
 I left one Sunday morning before the signal gun ; 
 'Twas there my many troubles and sorrows had begun. 
 As I sailed out of the harbor I whispered a farewell 
 To the sun-kissed hills and meadows green and daisies in 
 
 the dell ; 
 The little birds ne'er sang so sweet as did they on that 
 
 day 
 When I left home and kindred and sailed from Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
62 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 As I sailed in the little craft that took me out to sea, 
 'Twas then I prayed to God above my country to set free ; 
 There is no reason she should be in bondage all these 
 
 years, 
 Bleeding from her many wounds and shedding bitter 
 
 tears. 
 She is as fair as other lands and trying night and day 
 To raise the Green above the Red in dear old Bantry Bay. 
 
 Although out in the great Far West with plenty all 
 
 around, 
 Fd rather live in Ireland, my own dear native ground. 
 'Tis true there's wealth galore out here and plenty and 
 
 to spare, 
 But give to me old Erin's Isle, none with her can 
 
 compare. 
 I know her fields are fresh and green, but she does 
 
 in bondage lay. 
 And that's the reason I left home and sailed from Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
 As I roam these wild prairies and mountains of the West, 
 My thoughts fly o'er the billows to the land that I love 
 
 best ; 
 Though oceans roll between us, you're ever dear to me, 
 I'll ne'er forget my native hills for any country. 
 Your sons and daughters they are brave at home or far 
 
 away, 
 And always will be dear to me far, far from Bantry Bay. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 63 
 
 Why should the wandering Celt forget his home beyond 
 
 the sea, 
 The Lifify and Blackwater, the Shannon and the Lee, 
 Killarney and Glengariff, Avoca and Dunlow, 
 The pass of Keimaneigh, where yoemen were laid low? 
 These places all are dear to me, though I am far away, 
 Yet still my heart flies back once more to dear old Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
 A DREAM OF HOME. 
 
 I had a dream the other night of my home beyond the sea, 
 
 I thought I saw our green flag float, and that triumph- 
 antly ; 
 
 I though old Ireland was free, and that from shore 
 to shore. 
 
 And all the minions of the Crown law weltering in their 
 gore. 
 
 The boys and girls were marching beneath our Irish 
 green, 
 
 And fife and drum were sounding defiantly, I ween. 
 
 Parnell and Mitchell I saw there with Emmet by their 
 side ; 
 
 Rossa and brave Doran, old Ireland's joy and pride. 
 
 Allen, Larkin and O'Brien, wdth Mackey in the van, 
 
 Brave John O'Neill, of Ridgeway fame, a valiant Irish- 
 man. 
 
 I thought that I was close by him once more at Pigeon 
 Hill, 
 
 Where Booker met his Waterloo and was retreating still. 
 
64 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 The redcoats were all routed and driven to despair, 
 They numbered six to one of us, but with us could not 
 
 compare. 
 Tim Cadogan I thought I saw the night before he died. 
 Defying the judge and jury packed — he was both true and 
 
 tried. 
 
 Mike Barrett bold, of Clerkenwell, McClure and Crowley, 
 
 too, 
 Joe Brady and Dan Curley and Fitzharris brave and true ; 
 Corydon and Massy were with Talbot down below, 
 With skulls and toads and crossbones, with us they had 
 
 no show. 
 James Stevens gazed upon the crowd and told them one 
 
 and all, 
 Old Ireland was a nation now and ne'er again should fall. 
 He called his comrades to his side and thus to them did 
 
 say, 
 "No more we'll fear the Saxon foe from Down to Bantry 
 
 Bay." 
 
 Tim Sheehy, Flor McCarthy, Collins and Jack Shea, 
 Bob Saunders and O'Leary were foremost in the fray; 
 Costigan and Canty, Tim Hurley and Taboo, 
 O'Leary and his stalwart sons to Ireland's always true. 
 O'Connor's yacht was sailing around Whiddy's ancient 
 
 isle. 
 With the green flag and the shamrock, the emblem of our 
 
 isle. 
 O'Donovan gave three hearty cheers for home and 
 
 fatherland, 
 Saying, "We must hold our own against any Saxon 
 
 band." 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 65 
 
 O'Shea and Con O'Mahoney were marching through the 
 
 street, 
 Young Buckley and Bill Goggin together all did meet; 
 Bill was riding on a horse as he marched through the 
 
 town, 
 When Cotter raised above the red the harp without the 
 
 crown. 
 Gilhooley gazed upon the cro\yd, saying, "What a 
 
 glorious day, 
 The Saxon we have now subdued and him must keep at 
 
 bay." 
 In unity there's always strength, now we must do or die 
 Before we'll yield to any power but that of God on high. 
 
 The boats were in the harbor and all was there serene. 
 The Union Jack was in the dust replaced by Ireland's 
 
 Green. 
 The Peelers looked forlorn, each wore a scowl or frown, 
 W^hen they thought of all the happy homes that they had 
 
 helped to down. 
 To see them gaze upon the flag that now was in the mire, 
 They looked like Mickey Free, a Massy or sham squire. 
 They'll have to leave old Ireland, no more to curse her 
 
 soil, 
 For sword and gun take pick and spade and live by honest 
 
 toil. 
 
 Rick Burke and Captain Kelly, Father Crowley and 
 
 O'Shea, 
 Drove the English hirelings from Cork to Bantry Bay. 
 
66 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 And when their bullets all were spent with bayonet at the 
 
 foe they went, 
 Cheering loud to chill their hearts, ''From Chicago we 
 
 were sent!" 
 Now, Burke told Kelly, ''Clear the way and drive the 
 
 toadies to the bay!" 
 Kelly shouted back with might, "Burke and Shea, keep up 
 
 the fight !" 
 The Saxon foe was kept at bay, 'twas done by Kelly, 
 
 Burke and Shea. 
 
 KILLARNEY. 
 
 I left Glengariff's lovely vale and rugged sons so 
 
 brawny, 
 O'Sullivan drove the coach-and-four that took me to 
 
 Killarney ; 
 Doctor Powell and stately wife were in the caravan 
 As we passed by old "Slievnagoil," the home of chief and 
 
 clan; 
 "Cromwell's Bridge" we saw that day, an antique granite 
 
 arch. 
 The "Forests" and the craggy brakes where he applied 
 
 the torch; 
 The lake down in the valley, the wild deer and the doe. 
 The ruined halls of bygone days where chieftains were 
 
 laid low. 
 
 O'Sullivan's and McSwiney's homes and ruined castle 
 
 walls. 
 We saw along the route that day, all caused by Saxon 
 
 laws, 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 67 
 
 For Cromwell's soldiers plundered us with carabine and 
 
 torch 
 And spread but desolation along their blood-stained 
 
 march. 
 As we went up the incline we saw down in the glen 
 The place where Michael Doheny was outlawed with 
 
 his men; 
 From there he sailed away to France despite a "Lordly 
 
 mien" ; 
 Love of Ireland was his crime and hate for England's 
 
 Queen. 
 
 Philip "Brave" O'Sullivan of Bantry and of Beare, 
 Yourself and bold McGeohegan the English once did 
 
 scare, 
 And held the "Fort" where forty men, ignoring Don Juan, 
 Kept the English all at bay, McGeohegan in the van; 
 He tried to reach the "Magazine," his blood flowing fast 
 
 away. 
 But lost his life for Fatherland and famed Glengariff's 
 
 Bay. 
 With heavy heart I gazed that day with bloodhounds on 
 
 the track. 
 And oft you'd hear in Cromwell's days the howling of his 
 
 pack. 
 
 To travel o'er these mountain scenes from Glengariff to 
 
 Kenmare, 
 The "Priest's Leap" and the tunnel, none with them can 
 
 compare ; 
 When the "Peep-o'-Day" and "White Boys" and men 
 
 of ninety-eight, 
 
68 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 With crude and ancient weapons defied the King and 
 
 State. 
 Though their beds were on the heather they kept the foe 
 
 at bay, 
 And some are eager as of yore preparing for the fray ; 
 The rugged sons of Kerry, of Beare and famed Bantry, 
 No rest can get by day or night till Ireland is free. 
 
 Now as we reached the Kerry line, its barren rocks and 
 
 brakes. 
 We see beyond us on the lea Killarney's lovely lakes ; 
 The Eagle's Nest and Mountain Pass now loom up in 
 
 the shade, 
 Dunloe's famed gap and tunnels, too, by nature there 
 
 were made. 
 I plucked the heather on the hill for Chester's lovely lady, 
 The charming wife of Doctor Powell, as gentle as a baby. 
 As we drove through Kenmare town, its bridge and 
 
 monastery, 
 I thought it was a pity that land should not be free. 
 
 When we reached famed Killarney what first met my 
 
 view 
 Were the boys of Pennsylvania, that gallant sculling 
 
 crew ; 
 Next day they won their laurels with plenty space to 
 
 spare ; 
 Columbia's noble emblem was floating everywhere. 
 O'Donoghue's castle on the lakes next day we went to 
 
 see. 
 The Tussacks and Muckross, that famed old monastery. 
 Killarney's lakes are beautiful and none can them excel, 
 But they are out of Irish hands ; Killarney, fare thee well. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 69 
 
 MAGGIE. 
 
 When first I saw her lovely face, I never will forget, 
 I thought of it for many a day, I'm thinking of it yet ; 
 It haunted me through field and mead, through valley, 
 
 hill and stream, 
 And often in a distant clime I thought she was a dream. 
 Oh ! could I recall those happy days that passed so swiftly 
 
 by, 
 
 When side by side we walked along beneath an azure sky. 
 
 I sought her in the evening when my daily toil was o'er, 
 And whispered tales of love to her and whispered more 
 
 and more. 
 One evening in December, while sitting by her side, 
 I asked her would she marry me — would she be my 
 
 bride. 
 'Twas then she answered with a smile, saying, "I will be 
 
 your wife," 
 And I resolved to stick to her through every siege of life. 
 
 The following spring we wedded were, I've no cause to 
 
 regret, 
 And she, dear girl, has stuck to me, and ne'er caused me 
 
 to fret; 
 My life I'd freely give for her just as I would of old, 
 For she is dearer far to me than all this world untold. 
 We're married now some years and children have galore, 
 Five boys and two girls to grace our Brooklyn floor. 
 
 When in the Western wilds her letters give me cheer, 
 And make me love her more and more, my darling 
 Maggie dear; 
 
70 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 It nearly breaks my heart that home I cannot stay, 
 Instead of wandering from her side in distant dimes 
 
 away. 
 My daily thoughts are with my love, my treasure and my 
 
 pride, 
 For she is dearer far to me than all the world beside. 
 
 When my long trips are over my bark for home I steer, 
 The laughing voice of her I love is ringing in my ear ; 
 The little ones close by her side, I long to see them play, 
 And hear them all in chorus cry, ''Our father comes 
 
 to-day!" 
 The little ones are growing fast and mother's pets are 
 
 they, 
 Which makes my thoughts fly back to them when many 
 
 miles away. 
 
 SKIBBEREEN. 
 
 Even as other lands and other climes are thought of by 
 
 their own, 
 The Irish exile thinks of his, his native Innishowen. 
 He ne'er forgets his childhood days, the pattern and the 
 
 fair. 
 The schoolhouse and the babbling brook and happy hours 
 
 spent there. 
 Those happy hours I now recall spent on the village green. 
 Till I was forced to leave my home in dear old Skib- 
 
 bereen. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 71 
 
 When I was in my tender years, with spirits light and gay, 
 The soldiers and the Peelers I saw both night and day; 
 They marched rough-shod o'er mountain, o'er meadow, 
 
 brook and lawn 
 And left their hiding places when the day began to 
 
 dawn. 
 You all know well how loyal they were to England's 
 
 Queen, 
 And that's the reason why I left my home in Skibbereen. 
 
 The scenes I witnessed in those days I never shall forget ; 
 
 I've thought of them in foreign lands, I'm thinking of 
 them yet. 
 
 The rich were masters of the soil and made the poor be- 
 wail. 
 
 Which caused them from their native heath to foreign 
 lands set sail. 
 
 I shared their fate to emigrate from my own isle so green, 
 
 And bade farewell to home and friends in dear old Skib- 
 bereen. 
 
 Good men and true are living there although in slavery, 
 
 And hoping still to see the day their country will be free. 
 
 You'll find them true to homeland across the deep blue 
 sea, 
 
 And longing for that freedom's dawn to strike for liberty. 
 
 God speed the day, I fondly pray, beneath our flag of 
 green, 
 
 When I'll go back to you, my love, and dear old Skib- 
 bereen. 
 
72 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 MY FRIENDS IN BANTRY. 
 
 There's a little spot in Ireland, across the deep blue sea, 
 Where I spent many happy days and heard sweet 
 
 Ardnalee. 
 The Carrydown and heath so brown you'd hear Frank 
 
 sing each day 
 For Patsy Stack and Jimmy Mack in famed old Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
 Dan Lyons, too, sincere and true, a sportsman of great 
 
 fame, 
 Survey's the shore, yes, o'er and o'er, in search of foreign 
 
 game. 
 When he meets young O'Donovan up to the glen they 
 
 stray, 
 To meet the ones that they love best from famed old 
 
 Bantry Bay. 
 
 O'Sullivan, too, from near the bridge is often down the 
 
 quay. 
 When business hours are over in some lady's company. 
 He has admirers by the score and courts them all, they say, 
 And soon will marry one of them in famed old Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
 But if perchance he went to France to visit gay Paris, 
 When he'd come back to Patsy Stack he'd sport the 
 
 fleur de lis 
 And tell the maid from whom he strayed when he went 
 
 far away, 
 He'd roam no more, but stay on shore in dear old Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 73 
 
 Some other noted celebrities in Bantry town do dwell, 
 They're known throughout the valley and also in the dell. 
 There's Nano Ryan and Mickey Brien, who live across 
 
 the way, 
 Who swears his horse can beat the train from Cork to 
 
 Bantry Bay. 
 
 OLD DROMORE. 
 
 One summer's day from Bantry Bay, two ladies in the 
 
 party, 
 From Boston town, of high renown, O'Brien and 
 
 McCarthy. 
 Our jaunting car wended its way by meadow, brook and 
 
 lawn. 
 As we drove through Conocna feigh and into Collo- 
 
 mane, 
 By Poul Gourm and Aughaville we went with goodly 
 
 speed. 
 Bold Jack O'Shea drove us that day behind his faithful 
 
 steed. 
 The ladies were both strangers and from Columbia's 
 
 shore. 
 And went with me that Sunday to visit old Dromore. 
 
 When we reached that ancient place where first I saw the 
 
 light. 
 The little church and schoolhouse that were my heart's 
 
 delight. 
 
74 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 We pitched our camp right on the road and raised our 
 
 flag of green. 
 Despite the minions of the Crown, defiant was our 
 
 mien. 
 There I beheld the faces known in days gone by, 
 Brave men were they to do and dare and wilUngly would 
 
 die. 
 If they could free their native land, and that from shore 
 
 to shore. 
 The Sunday that I spoke to them at the crossroads in 
 
 Dromore. 
 
 When I stood by that rustic ditch and gazed on all around, 
 1 thought of how my motherland by alien chains was 
 
 bound; 
 How my kith and kin were murdered or forced to cross 
 
 the sea. 
 Some of them now in luxury and some in poverty ; 
 And when I beheld the house where first I saw the day. 
 The schoolhouse and the ancient church with spires so 
 
 tall and gray. 
 My thoughts flew back to boyhood, I was a child once 
 
 more. 
 As I spoke to my countrymen that Sunday at Dromore. 
 
 McCarthy brave and Cotter and young Rahilly also, 
 The meeting called to order, when I asked them not to go 
 With rents to robber landlords, the despoilers of our 
 
 race. 
 And told them all to pay no rent, before the Peeler's face. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 75 
 
 This land is ours by God's own rights and that you all 
 
 know well, 
 That bastard spawn of Cromwell's band we'll try now to 
 
 expel. 
 Brave Father Burts was chairman, whom all of us adore. 
 That Sunday when, with my Boston friends, I spoke at 
 
 old Dromore. 
 
 We started then for Cahargh, with banners waving high 
 Until we reached that famed old spot, prepared to do or 
 
 die, 
 The homes of the McCarthys, where Chieftains once did 
 
 reign, 
 And Cromwell met his Waterloo in the Bishopland 
 
 campaign. 
 The Reverend Palmer took the chair, a Priest sincere and 
 
 true. 
 Who willingly would shed his blood for you, dear land, 
 
 for you ; 
 He'd abolish landlordism, and that from shore to shore. 
 Such were the words he spoke that day after we left 
 
 Dromore. 
 
 Iscariots of the Irish race, who are both low and mean. 
 Were doing the dirty work that day of England's King 
 
 and Queen; 
 The ladies from America could hardly understand 
 How men could stoop so low, being born in Ireland. 
 To see them wear the livery of a foreign King and Queen, 
 Who persecuted Irishmen for the wearing of the green; 
 
76 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 These are the hirelings of the Crown, and in Ireland are 
 
 galore, 
 They watched me in the toilet room after I left Dromore. 
 
 Success to you, O'Donovan, and may your life be long. 
 We toasted you in wine that day and sang your health in 
 
 song. 
 Your house and festal board you gave with hospitality, 
 Presided over by your charming wife and interesting 
 
 family; 
 And when we left your domicile we left it with good will, 
 And directed our course for Skibbereen, down by the old 
 
 steam mill. 
 May God His choicest blessings on John O'Donovan pour 
 And always send grist to his mill from Cahargh to 
 
 Dromore. 
 
 From there we went to Schull, where the people did us 
 
 cheer, 
 In sight of old Fastnet Rock adjacent to Cape Clear; 
 I spoke to them that evening and told them what to do ; 
 How they'd been persecuted by a hireling English crew. 
 When Miss O'Brien then sang about the Emerald shore 
 The audience loudly cheered her and called for an 
 
 encore — 
 When she gave them ''Sailing Home" you should have 
 
 heard them roar, 
 vSuch cheering as was never heard from Sherkin to 
 
 Dromore. 
 
 Now fare 3^ou well, good people, remember one and all, 
 The British Lion is trembling and very soon will fall ; 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 77 
 
 The Russian Bear is after him, and when they come tx) 
 
 blows 
 The Fenian boys will fall in line as everybody knows. 
 So keep your powder dry and sharpen well your steel, 
 And soon you'll have a leader like brave Owen Roe 
 
 O'Neill; 
 So now keep up your courage and the solemn oath you 
 
 swore, 
 To chase the cowardly Peelers from Cork to old Dromore. 
 
 And when that hour at last arrives, in spite of King or 
 
 Queen, 
 We'll pull the Union Jack beneath our Irish flag of green ; 
 We'll have no use for Peelers nor toadies of the Crown, 
 We'll chase them from old Ireland and tear their colors 
 
 down ; 
 Our own green flag will proudly wave and that 
 
 triumphantly, 
 So be prepared without delay to strike for liberty ; 
 "Faugh-a-Ballagh" is our cry, and that from shore to 
 
 shore, 
 We'll show them soon what we can do from Belfast to 
 
 Dromore. 
 
 A VISIT TO MY NATIVE LAND. 
 
 After years of toil and trouble in that land beyond the 
 
 sea, 
 I revisited my native land I left in poverty. 
 And when I trod my native shore, her valleys and her 
 
 hills, 
 I thought of the marauders — the cause of all her ills — 
 
78 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 The Peelers and the soldiers, that cursed hireling crew, 
 Who murdered meri and women and babes and mothers 
 
 slew. 
 Who leveled down the cabins with blood-stained sword 
 
 and torch. 
 With crowbars on their shoulders they always led the 
 
 march. 
 
 What a pity that these traitors were born on the soil 
 
 Where Irishmen in slavery for bread each day do toil ; 
 
 Where the purest maids throughout the earth, and that I 
 proudly know, 
 
 Are a credit to old Erin no matter where they go ; 
 
 To think that men of Irish birth, with mothers good and 
 pure, 
 
 Would persecute their kith and kin and always them 
 allure. 
 
 Oh, mothers, when you bore them you made a great mis- 
 take. 
 
 For they helped to plunder you and treasure from you 
 take. 
 
 To see those cowardly rufifians on Sunday go to pray 
 With weapons shining brightly, all ready for the fray. 
 To shoot down babes and women, as they often did before, 
 When the husbands and the fathers were banished from 
 
 our shore. 
 O blessed God! may Thy right hand those hirelings of 
 
 the Crown 
 Exterminate from out our land and tear their colors 
 
 down; 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 79 
 
 They're a curse to poor old Ireland, that fair land of the 
 
 fair, 
 There is no other land so pure or with her can compare. 
 
 I landed on your shores just at the break of day, 
 
 I need not say I happy felt with spirits light and gay 
 
 To see the smiling faces and red and rosy glow 
 
 Of Erin's sons and daughters who in old Ireland grow. 
 
 I thought it was a pity that they should e'er be slaves 
 
 And forced to leave their native land and cross the ocean 
 
 waves. 
 I'd use the torch, I'd use the sword, I'd use the flames of 
 
 hell. 
 If I could set old Ireland free and Cromwell's breed expel. 
 
 I'm glad to find you better than when I left your shore 
 To cross the broad Atlantic where billows loudly roar. 
 When I was forced to leave you, a wanderer to roam, 
 Down in Rio de Janeiro, far from my native home, 
 I thought of you both night and day, Acushla Asthore 
 
 Machree, 
 And often prayed that I might live to help to make you 
 
 free. 
 I'm glad to see your face once more, although in slavery. 
 But God is good and yet will steer your future destiny. 
 
 The landlords and the bailiffs, the spawn of Cromwell's 
 
 breed, 
 Must leave our fertile island, from there we must them 
 
 weed. 
 
80 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 They're worthy of no quarter, those vampires spawned in 
 
 hell, 
 For freedom's dawn is looming up, as they all know full 
 
 well. 
 The Peelers and the soldiers, the sailors and shoneens, 
 The land grabbers and agents, the coastguards and 
 
 gombeens 
 Must seek some other quarters, for here they cannot stay. 
 For they must leave old Ireland, and that without delay. 
 
 A VISIT TO CLONAKILTY. 
 
 On the twenty-sixth of August we went to commemorate, 
 To Clonakilty City, the heroes of ninet)^-eight. 
 Their memory is a balm to hearts both true and brave, 
 Some in their homes on Irish soil, some o'er the ocean 
 
 wave. 
 O'Leary and brave Saunders at the station did we meet. 
 With a Cead Mil-le Failtha that day they did us greet. 
 They showed us through that ancient town and there 
 
 were sadly seen 
 The graves of patriots who dearly loved the green. 
 
 Their memory still is cherished, you'll see that on the 
 
 square. 
 The gift of gallant Irishmen with whom none can 
 
 compare. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 81 
 
 'Tis a credit to old Carbery and Clonakilty, too, 
 
 And showed the traitors of the green what Irishmen 
 
 can do. 
 In the center of the city a monument you'll see 
 In memory of the men who shed their blood for Irish 
 
 liberty. 
 It was started by Bob Saunders to outlast monarchy, 
 For Irishmen will ne'er be slaves, their country must be 
 
 free. 
 
 In the town hall that evening Bob Saunders took the 
 
 chair, 
 And told the people one and all that now they must 
 
 prepare 
 To deal John Bull a deadly blow just like the valiant Boer, 
 And drive the Peelers far away from poor old Erin's 
 
 shore. 
 I spoke to them that evening, and told them what to do : 
 To place no trust in Parliament or any hireling crew. 
 I told them they should win their rights and that with 
 
 shining steel, 
 Like the immortal Washington and brave Owen Roe 
 
 O'Neill. 
 
 A friend of mine from Boston was with me on that day. 
 And sweetly sang "Mavourneen" and "Sailing Down the 
 
 Bay." 
 The boys and girls encored her and loudly did her call ; 
 When she sang old "Jerusalem" you'd think the house 
 
 would fall. 
 
82 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Though born in America she hates all Saxon laws ; 
 Her father is an Irishman and loves the Irish cause. 
 She's a credit to America, a warm friend of mine, 
 And lately came to Paddy's land ; her name it is O'Brien. 
 
 Miss Murphy sang in Irish and Father John also ; 
 
 The real McCoy was also there, whom many of you 
 
 know. 
 He sang the "Minstrel Boy" and also ''Shandon Bells," 
 
 You'd hear the echo on that night resounding in the dells. 
 The meeting then being over, we all retired to rest 
 In dear old Clonakilty, close by the ocean's crest. 
 Miss Lynch and Miss O'Brien are Irish to the core, 
 And lately left America to see old Erin's shore. 
 
 Now fare you well, Bob Saunders, and O'Leary true and 
 
 tried, 
 I 'm forced to cross the ocean and travel far and wide ; 
 But rest assured, where'er I roam, I'll ne'er forget the 
 
 cause, 
 I'm ready now just as of yore to break the Saxon laws. 
 So be prepared both one and all, remember what I say. 
 The Fenian boys are not dead yet, but waiting for the 
 
 fray. 
 And when that longed-for hour arrives, in spite of king 
 
 or queen. 
 The sons and daughters of the Gael will rally round the 
 
 green. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 83 
 
 Next day we went to Baiidon behind an old staggeen, 
 Where the banner of King Billy once waved above the 
 
 green ; 
 Where a Jew, a Turk or athiest through a certain gate 
 
 could go, 
 But where no Papist could apply in days long, long ago. 
 The "poor scholar" carved beneath it, I'm sure you all 
 
 know well, 
 "The same inscription written here is on the gates of hell." 
 From there we went to Rebel Cork, Miss Lynch and Miss 
 
 O'Brien, 
 And sailing down the River Lee they said it was the 
 
 Rhine. 
 
 They went aboard the tender that took me out to sea 
 To cross the broad Atlantic for the land of liberty. 
 Old Ireland should be proud of them, her daughters true 
 
 and brave, 
 Though living in America where the starry flag doth 
 
 wave; 
 They're worthy of being recorded among the brave and 
 
 true. 
 They showed their Irish brothers what Irish maids could 
 
 do. 
 They're both now in America, that land of liberty. 
 And to his will I do resign my future destiny. 
 
84 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 SHAUN BHEE'S EVICTION. 
 
 When a stripling in Ireland one morning I saw 
 
 An eviction that was not according to law ; 
 
 I saw the last cow taken out of the barn, 
 
 And rescued by brave hearts that very same morn. 
 
 The bailiff he seized her one morning in June 
 
 While the owner was sleeping and dreaming of ruin. 
 
 I saw the cow taken at dawn of the day, 
 
 And Blakney he hastened to steal her away, 
 
 Knowing full well if Mike were around 
 
 She never would go to the Drimoleague Pound ; 
 
 So I planned the rescue and knocked on the door 
 
 Of poor Shaun Bhee's cabin, v^^ho slept on the floor. 
 
 Mike and his wife I quickly awoke, 
 And both followed Blakney and thus to him spoke : 
 "That cow is our father's !" they loudly did shout, 
 "If you don't let her go we will dash your brains out; 
 Her milk is his medicine now in his old age," 
 Then seizing the cow they flew into a rage. 
 
 One blow dealt by A/Iickey the bailifif laid low. 
 Then he gave him another and two more I trow ; 
 The blood of the bailiff was thick on the field 
 When Mike took the cow and forced him to yield. 
 I witnessed all this, which was a great feat, 
 And proud was I that the bailiff was forced to retreat. 
 
 I first gave the signal to Mickey to start, 
 And told him be lively or else he'd be caught. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 85 
 
 1 ran over woodlands, o'er hills and o'er brakes, 
 When I think of that morning, oh, how my heart aches ; 
 The old man lay dying on the cold cabin floor, 
 When I gave the alarm by blows on the door. 
 
 At last I succeeded, how sad was his moan ! 
 
 But he was defiant as a king on his throne. 
 
 "Go bring back my cow ! Like your father be true, 
 
 I am too feeble or I would go too ; 
 
 I am ninety odd years," the old man did say, 
 
 "And have worked for the landlord by night and by day. 
 
 "Go rescue the cow, no time's to be lost, 
 
 Bring her back to me whate'er the cost." 
 
 I was then but a stripling, but remember quite well 
 
 The wails of the children resounding the dell. 
 
 The old man with vengeance then gazed on the crowd 
 
 x\t the door of his cabin, defiant and proud. 
 
 ON BOARD THE "CAMPANIA." 
 
 Farewell, dear native land, you're fading from my view. 
 Your shores I'm leaving far behind to cross the ocean 
 
 blue. 
 My heart is with you day and night, acushla asthore 
 
 machree, 
 Though I may never see again those scenes so dear to me. 
 Your mountains and your valleys I've strolled in days 
 
 gone by, 
 The blackbird and the thrush I've heard beneath your 
 
 azure sky; 
 
86 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 The linnet and the nightingale I've heard them o'er and 
 
 o'er, 
 Oh, gra machree I'm leaving thee, and ne'er may see 
 
 thee more. 
 
 Though sad and lonely now I feel I've never hoped in 
 
 vain. 
 That I may live to see the day we'll burst your chains 
 
 in twain; 
 The hirelings of an alien race can never us subdue, 
 So come what will, through good or ill, to you I will be 
 
 true; 
 And though I leave your shores once more you're ever 
 
 dear to me. 
 And from the bounding billows I bid farewell to thee. 
 Your shady groves and valleys in dreams I'll wander 
 
 there. 
 And wish that I could stay with you, the fairest of the 
 
 fair. 
 
 Though cursed traitors tread your soil, the minions of 
 
 the Crown, 
 We'll sweep them yet from off our land and pull their 
 
 colors down; 
 The redcoats and the Peelers w^e'll banish as of yore, 
 Good-by, Cape Clear, I'm leaving you, likewise old Erin's 
 
 shore. 
 The Stars and Stripes are looming up, my home awaits 
 
 me there. 
 But you will still be dear to me, none with you can 
 
 compare. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 87 
 
 Your sons and daughters scattered will yet revisit you, 
 Another look before I say "Dear native land, adieu." 
 
 Schull, Glandore and Aughadown my thoughts are now 
 with you, 
 
 Fond memories of the hours spent in Nine Acres and Sea- 
 view ; 
 
 The creamery in the valley, the cottage in the glade, 
 
 The picnic by the seaside, from me will never fade ; 
 
 The haystack and famed Baltimore, O'Driscoll's castle, 
 too, 
 
 Dunbeacon Bay and Durrus most enchanting to the view. 
 
 Some friends that I love dearly in Ireland do remain. 
 
 As I roll on the billows across the raging main. 
 
 Good-by, old Galleyhead, while rolling on the deep. 
 From the deck of the "Campania" as the sun is going to 
 
 sleep. 
 I ne'er again may see your shores that are so dear to me. 
 While ploughing through the ocean for the land of liberty. 
 My native home Fm leaving for my adopted land, 
 For I have been since childhood on New York's distant 
 
 strand. 
 Fm standing on the deck as the moon shines o'er the dell 
 In the land of Robert Emmet and Charles Stewart 
 
 Parnell. 
 
 The last glimpse of old Erin is fading from my view. 
 But I'll ne'er forget your hills and dales across the ocean 
 blue; 
 
88 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Your sons are still as true as Emmet or Wolfe Tone, 
 And waiting for that longed-for hour to strike and claim 
 
 their own. 
 Oh ! cruel fate, why must it be that I can not remain 
 In my own native land and not cross o'er the main ? 
 Away from scenes of childhood, 'mong strangers now to 
 
 dwell, 
 With aching heart again I say, "My native land, fare- 
 well." 
 
 A TRIBUTE TO MY BELOVED WIFE, WHO 
 DIED JANUARY, 8, 1899. 
 
 I ne'er will see that face again with beaming smiles so 
 
 sweet, 
 Which welcomed me from far-ofif trips, and fondly did 
 
 me greet; 
 No more by brook or streamlet in happy days I ween. 
 And walk with her I loved so well, will I again be seen. 
 She was all on earth to me, my treasure, and my pride. 
 And would that I could see again my fondest love, my 
 
 bride. 
 
 How well do I remember when she became my wife, 
 
 A purer soul could not exist, through twent}^ years of life. 
 
 As years rolled on my fondness grew for her I loved so 
 
 well, 
 And when she died how sad I felt no tongue but mine 
 
 can tell; 
 But Providence decreed that parted we should be, 
 And to His will I do resign my future destiny. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 89 
 
 The fondest hopes I cherish within this aching breast, 
 Are that her sweet spirit has flown to its celestial rest. 
 With all my trials and hardships, full of grief and care. 
 When I leave this sinful world I hope to meet her there. 
 In dreams I'm often with her in our once happy home, 
 The little ones, God bless them, for caresses to me come. 
 
 When I stood by her bedside to take a last farewell. 
 She looked far sweeter than of yore, the one I loved so 
 
 well; 
 She knew her hour had come, that hour I'll ne'er forget. 
 As she calmly waited to be called, I'm thinking of it yet; 
 Once more I kissed the precious lips of twenty years my 
 
 wife. 
 And then she calmly passed away and gave to God her 
 
 life. 
 
 vShe told me not to weep for her, but guard our children 
 
 dear. 
 And bring them up with tender care, to which I will 
 
 adhere. 
 'Tis sad to have to part with one that was so dear to me, 
 Who often cheered me on my way to bright prosperity ; 
 But now all hopes are blighted, I'll see her face no more. 
 Until we meet above the clouds on that bright heavenly 
 
 shore. 
 
 In a sacred spot in Calvary she sleeps, no more to wake. 
 Where green grass grows and lilies fair I planted for her 
 
 sake. 
 I am longing now to see that lonely new-made grave, 
 To moisten it with tears of mine this aching heart doth 
 
 crave ; 
 
90 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 She is resting on the hillside calmly and serene, 
 
 And her request to me was, that it always be kept green. 
 
 Now fare thee well, my only love, I hope you're free from 
 
 care, 
 In heaven above where all is love there is no sorrow there. 
 And often in the solemn, the lone and silent night, 
 Methinks I hear once again the voice of my delight ; 
 And every hour throughout this my sad and clouded life. 
 It bids me be calm amid the peace of starry strife. 
 
 TO IRELAND. 
 
 (On board the "Lucania," July 5, 1900.) 
 
 Ah! there you are asthore machree, most charming to 
 
 behold. 
 Where first I saw the light of day, beneath your green 
 
 and gold; 
 Your mountain peaks are now in view, your hills and 
 
 valleys fair. 
 Oh, there's no land throughout this world that can with 
 
 you compare ! 
 I've thought of you in distant lands and climes far, far 
 
 away. 
 And often with an aching heart to God for you I'd pray. 
 
 The exile's thoughts are first of home, no matter where 
 
 he be, 
 And now, thank God, my native land, your shores once 
 
 more I see. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 91 
 
 Oh ! mother dear, why must it be that you are still in 
 
 chains ? 
 Your sons have fought for other lands and given their 
 
 blood and brains. 
 You look to me just as of yore, your fields are fresh and 
 
 green, 
 Oh! gra machree, but there you are, my first love, oh, 
 
 my queen ! 
 
 When first Ileft you, Ireland, to cross the deep blue sea, 
 
 Fond hearts were there, but now, alas ! they will not wel- 
 come me. 
 
 The graveyard now contains their bones, no more I'll see 
 their face, 
 
 And I will miss their loving kiss, also their fond embrace. 
 
 Though years have passed since last I saw your valleys 
 and your hills, 
 
 Your glories I have ne'er forgot, your sorrows nor your 
 ills. 
 
 Historic dear old Kerry Head, you look just as before; 
 
 The Fastnet Rock, Bull, Cow and Calf, near dear old Bal- 
 timore. 
 
 With pleasant sail we'll see Kinsale before it is high 
 noon. 
 
 Oh! how I long to tread your shores, dear motherland, 
 aroon ; 
 
 Once more I greet you with a cheer from out the ocean's 
 roar, 
 
 This pays me for the years I've been away from you, 
 asthore ! 
 
92 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 A VISIT TO GOUGANE BARRA. 
 
 (Sunday, August 19, 1900.) 
 
 When first I gazed upon those scenes of fame, 
 
 My native town I reached, when from New York I came. 
 
 I heard so much of Keimaneigh, the Leap, the Whip and 
 
 Stone, 
 The Peep-o'-Day and White Boys and kings they did 
 
 dethrone ; 
 The battle fought in Keimaneigh in eighteen twenty-two ; 
 And how the gallant Michael Walsh the Yeomen did 
 
 subdue ; 
 And how the patriots held the pass from Kealkill to 
 
 Gougane, 
 How mountaineer chased cavalier o'er valley, hill and 
 
 lawn. 
 
 When I beheld these ancient scenes I thought of bygone 
 
 days, 
 Of Doheny and Smith O'Brien when foremost in the 
 
 frays ; 
 And how when in pursuit of them, the traitors on their 
 
 trail, 
 Bold Doheny gave them the slip and for New York set 
 
 sail. 
 Deep-valleyed Desmond I beheld most charming to the 
 
 view. 
 Where Munster's king once reigned supreme, defiantly 
 
 and true. 
 When I gazed on that valley, described as Nature's vale, 
 I thought of all the glories of poor old Innisfail. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 93 
 
 And how she was in bondage despite her piety, 
 
 By cursed alien tyrants of high and low degree. 
 
 I heard my native tongue in song and prose that day 
 
 By Coakley and O' Sullivan in Gougane far away. 
 
 I'd like to know why other lands that are not half so fair, 
 
 No rents nor taxes have to pay and breathe their native 
 
 air. 
 But we're oppressed by foreign laws and native hirelings, 
 
 too — 
 The vampires of Cromwell's spawn, and to his teachings 
 
 true. 
 
 But the day yet will come when those tyrants must go, 
 Far away from my birthplace to England I trow ; 
 Such vipers and bloodhounds no more will we need, 
 For with musket and cannon we'll force them to yield. 
 Gilhooly, our chieftain, Den Downey and Co. 
 Will join in the combat, they're true men I know ; 
 Stack and O' Sullivan will be in the fray 
 To drive all the Peelers from Bantry Bay. 
 
 Whiddy Island, where chieftains once did reign, 
 
 Not far from Dunboy Castle, where Philip's hot campaign 
 
 Was waged against the Saxon, when he went torch in 
 
 hand 
 To reach the powder magazine and strike for motherland. 
 That harbor looked so picturesque, beneath the azure sky. 
 I thought if Wolfe Tone landed there how proudly he 
 
 could die, 
 Fighting for our sacred rights, our castles, lands and all, 
 For he would strike for liberty with ready blade and ball. 
 
94 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 The square is now called after him in letters large I ween, 
 Where lately I heard minstrels sing "The Wearing of the 
 
 Green." 
 The peelers then dispersed the crowd and forced the 
 
 bards away, 
 But reinforced they came and sang the same next day. 
 The boys and girls surrounded them and loudly they did 
 
 yell 
 When they sang in the highest key, ''Brave Charles 
 
 Stewart Parnell." 
 Costigan and Stack then formed a hollow square, 
 They knew it was their Spion Kop, Taboo was in the 
 
 rear. 
 
 I've traveled all over old Ireland, through meadow, 
 
 through mountain and lawn, 
 But I'll never forget the last Sunday I spent with my 
 
 friends in Gougane. 
 The gap of Dunlow, Giant's Causeway, Brighton, the 
 
 Seine or the wSuir. 
 Are not half so enchanting to gaze on as the scenes I saw 
 
 there on my tour. 
 I saw many sights in my travels through Germany, 
 
 France and old Spain, 
 When the Saxons were routed by Sarsfield, when he had 
 
 to cross over the main. 
 The boys and girls were boating, while the old folk in 
 
 monastery prayed. 
 And their echoes resounded the valley when they cheered 
 
 for Paul Kruger's Brigade. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 95 
 
 O'Sullivan sang in the Gaelic, the dark clouds passed 
 
 quickly away, 
 At Cronin's Hotel for the ladies he sang "The First 
 
 Dawn of the Day." 
 He sang ''God Save Old Ireland" in Irish and English 
 
 also 
 To the matrons and maids of our party who to Gougane 
 
 that Sunday did go. 
 
 Such scenes as these loom up again, though on a distant 
 
 shore. 
 Where the Lee is fed from out the rocks by purling 
 
 streams galore. 
 The island church and ancient walls of Finbar's 
 
 Monastery, 
 Cronin's house where all did dine that came from Bantry. 
 
 When we drove through the main street of Bantry Bay, 
 With a gunboat in sight on that bright August day, 
 1 thought then and there of immortal Wolfe Tone, 
 As I gazed on my birthplace my heart grew like stone 
 To think that the tyrant controlled my own land. 
 With her armed marines and recruits sword in hand. 
 Her peelers and sailors, the slaves of the crown ; 
 A disgrace to famed Bantry, my dear native town. 
 
96 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 TO MY ESTEEMED FRIENDS OF BANTRY 
 
 BAY. 
 
 Home of my youth, of Thee I think no matter where I 
 
 roam, 
 ril ne'er forget the friends I left in my once happy home ; 
 My thoughts are now of you, asthore, your hills and 
 
 vales remind me 
 Of the days I spent in merriment with the friends I left 
 
 behind me. 
 
 There's Patsy Stack and Charley Mack, Costigan and 
 
 Canty ; 
 O' Sullivan, too, sincere and true, Levis and McCarthy. 
 Miss Kate I ween, the village queen, her sweet face oft 
 
 reminds me 
 Of Bantry fair, also the square, and the friends I left 
 
 behind me. 
 
 Although I'm in a foreign land, you're ever dear to me, 
 Old Ireland I will ne'er forget in the land of liberty. 
 There's not a day, there's not a night, but memories 
 
 remind me. 
 Of the happy days I lately spent in that land I left behind 
 
 me. 
 
 You'll find fair maids and gallant blades in dear old 
 
 Bantry Bay, 
 Each evening in the twilight you'll meet them down 
 
 the quay; 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 97 
 
 Their rosy cheeks and winning ways in a distant clime 
 
 inspire me 
 To write this poem far, far from home for the friends I 
 
 left behind me. 
 
 In Whiddy Isle, my native soil, I sailed around your 
 
 coast. 
 In Bantry Bay one summer's day, that I can proudly 
 
 boast. 
 Those bright blue eyes, 'neath azure skies, of a fair-haired 
 
 girl remind me, 
 As we sailed that day right through the bay that I left 
 
 far behind me. 
 
 In O'Connor's yacht we boldly sailed around the Edward 
 
 crew. 
 Our green flag floated in the breeze, with the red, white 
 
 and blue. 
 The Boston ladies sweetly sang, their melodies remind 
 
 me, 
 Of Bantr}^ Bay far, far away and the friends I left behind 
 
 me. 
 
 Young Lyons, bold like a knight of old, my friend sincere 
 
 and true, 
 Invited me most cordially to share his craft with you; 
 His kindness I will ne'er forget, his courtesies remind- 
 
 me, ': 
 
 Of my native land far, far away and the friends I left 
 
 behind me. 
 
98 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 'Tis sad to part from you asthore and leave the tyrants 
 
 rule you; 
 I know that on your shore there are men who are tried 
 
 and true, too; 
 Now, Patsy Stack, when I go back, I hope I'll married 
 
 find thee, 
 And settled down in Bantry Town that I left far behind 
 
 me. 
 
 Now fare you well, Tim Hurley, Jack Lyons and Patsy 
 
 Stack, 
 I hope to see you one and all the next time I go back. 
 Should you e'er come to Brooklyn Town, in Hart street 
 
 you will find me, 
 Four twenty-four is on the door for the friends I left 
 
 behind me. 
 
 THE MAID OF DROUMOURTNEEN. 
 
 I met her in the summer time on her own native soil 
 In famed Glengariff not far from Slievnagoil ; 
 Her eyes are of azure blue and sparklingly doth shine ; 
 As we sailed that day right through the bay the weather 
 it was fine. 
 
 She's a credit to her native land, my own dear isle so 
 
 green, 
 I'll ne'er forget when first I met the Maid of Drou- 
 
 mourtneen. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 99 
 
 I see her walking through the street, erect, with stately 
 
 mien, 
 She's fresh and fair with golden hair, defiant as a queen. 
 She left her home when young in years and went across 
 
 the sea^ 
 And sought a home beneath that flag — the Flag of 
 
 Liberty. 
 
 She longed to see her country home, also the village green, 
 Where oft she played in childhood days — the Maid of 
 Droumourtneen. 
 
 Once more she's in America, at home she could not stay, 
 The rents and taxes were too high, she had to go away. 
 She ne'er forgot the Emerald Isle, a patriot is she, 
 And willingly would give her life to set old Ireland 
 free. 
 
 She's one of Erin's daughters, and that I proudly ween, 
 Always true to Motherland, the Maid of Droumourtneen. 
 
 Though I may ne'er see her again, I'm proud to know 
 
 that she, 
 Contented now and happy, is in this Land of Liberty. 
 May fortune always smile on her through every weal and 
 
 woe, 
 And may she live to see the day the Saxon is laid low. 
 
 I wish that I could hear her sing ''The Wearing of the 
 
 Green" 
 As I did in her native land — the Maid of Droumourtneen. 
 
 L.ofC. 
 
100 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Fare thee well, Glengariff, Dromore and Collomane, ' 
 I left your hills and valleys when the day began to dawn ; 
 When I sailed from the Cove of Cork to cross the ocean 
 
 wide 
 The subject of my ditty was sitting by my side. 
 
 And when I left sweet Innisfail, that island in the sheen, 
 I heaved a sigh and bid good-by to the Maid of Drou- 
 mourtneen. 
 
 My thoughts are now of bygone days, Scart and Bantry 
 
 Bay, 
 Coleen and Schull, Crook Haven, too — in Cal-i-for-ni-a. 
 I hope that I will live to see, and that from shore to shore, 
 Our green flag wave triumphantly from Antrim to 
 
 Dromore. 
 
 'Tis there the children of the Gael would rally 'round the 
 
 green. 
 And she, brave girl, would cross the main — the Maid of 
 
 Droumourtneen. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 101 
 
 JUDAS ISCARIOT SHERIDAN— THE PEELER. 
 
 In Ireland lived a hireling employed by England's king, 
 
 Who mutilated cattle and home their tails would bring 
 
 To make up soup for comrades of English nomination, 
 
 Who drank it on a Friday by special dispensation ; 
 
 The turtle was not "in it" when the ox-tail went around 
 
 To satisfy the cravings of an Irish traitor hound. 
 
 They call him Sergeant Sheridan — the people on him 
 
 frown — 
 A disgrace to her that bore him in old Roscommon Town. 
 
 He sent the innocent to prison to gain a devil's reward, 
 
 In trying to get promotion and adding to his hoard. 
 
 His pal was an impostor, Bill Wyndham was his name. 
 
 Who to the great Lord Edward relationship doth claim. 
 
 They sent the innocent to prison for acts they ne'er com- 
 mitted ; 
 
 Oh, God ! to think that such a wretch on earth should be 
 permitted, 
 
 But they will reap a just reward on the great Judgment 
 Day, 
 
 When they'll have no chance of pardon, and little time 
 to pray. 
 
 His work was known in Dublin, within the Castle wall. 
 And those whose lives he swore away to wear a chain and 
 
 ball; 
 The judge was always on his side, the jury would agree 
 To take the oath of Sheridan 'gainst Irish liberty. 
 His conscience now must gnaw him, the vilest of the vile. 
 For he bereft fond mothers of their sons in Erin's Isle. 
 
103 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 The brand of Cain is on his brow, his carcass is tattooed ; 
 'Twill not be long until he is like an animal lassoed. 
 
 This cursed wretch would cut the heart, the liver and the 
 
 spleen, 
 The tongues pull out and eyeballs, too, for England's 
 
 king and queen ; 
 And this was done in Ireland, that saintly land so fair. 
 By a cowardly Irish Peeler, with whom none can 
 
 compare ; 
 He burned hay, he burned oats, produced on Irish soil 
 By brawny hands, with God's own aid, who honestly doth 
 
 toil. 
 He maimed the beasts upon the field, the earth did 
 
 desecrate 
 With his foul deeds throughout the land, with Wyndham 
 
 for his mate. 
 
 There is no other nation on this earth would tolerate such 
 
 deeds 
 As burning hay and maiming calves and cattle in the 
 
 meads. 
 And Wyndham knew the foulest work that e'er could be 
 
 committed. 
 And this loathsome wretch unpunished go by Billy was 
 
 permitted. 
 This wicked wretch should meet his death upon a gallows 
 
 tree; 
 His carcass then should be cut down and cast into the 
 
 sea; 
 His body ne'er should lie in consecrated ground. 
 For of traitors and informers none like him can be found. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 103 
 
 This ruffian is now living on fair Columbia's shore, 
 A disgrace to our republic now and for evermore. 
 He dare not stay in Ireland, for there he would be slain, 
 But he is in America and here he will remain. 
 Fitzharris was deported from this great land so free, 
 They sent him back to Dublin across the deep blue sea. 
 His crime was being an Irishman and hating English 
 
 laws. 
 For he refused the blood-money 'gainst Ireland's holy 
 
 cause. 
 
 ON BOARD THE "TEUTONIC." 
 
 To-day, before the sun goes down. Old Ireland's peaks 
 
 we'll see, 
 An exile from your shores I've been for years, "Asthore 
 
 Machree" ; 
 I'm longing now to see your vales, just as in days of 
 
 yore; 
 In foreign lands I ne'er forgot your fertile plains, 
 
 asthore. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Sailing home, sailing home, from far across the sea ; 
 Sailing to Old Ireland from the land of liberty. 
 Sailing home, sailing home, from far across the sea ; 
 Sailing to Old Ireland from the land of liberty. 
 
 We sailed away with goodly speed and left New York 
 
 behind ; 
 A jolly crowd we had on board, who knew no troubled 
 
 mind ; 
 
104 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 On the 26th of June, with spirits light and gay, 
 On board of the ''Teutonic" we sailed down through the 
 Bay. 
 
 Right on the lee ! why there is land, though miles it is 
 
 away ; 
 Behold it now, both one and all, where first I saw the day. 
 I proudly hail you. Motherland, and greet you with a 
 
 smile; 
 The fairest nation on this earth is poor old Erin's Isle. 
 
 The historic Cove of Cork we'll see before sundown, 
 Haulbowline, Spike and Galley Head, and also Augha- 
 
 down; 
 
 Baltimore's famed Castle, known both far and wide. 
 Where, fighting for her honor, O'Driscoll's daughter died. 
 
 Toward the Bull, Cow and the Calf with steady wind we 
 
 glide, 
 And the Old Head of Kinsale, where Munster's Chieftain 
 
 died ; 
 Kerry Head and mountain peaks are looming in the 
 
 shade, 
 Daunt's Old Rock and Fastnet, too, by Nature there were 
 
 laid. 
 
 Though now you are in bondage, your chains will yet be 
 
 broke. 
 Your stalwart sons and daughters will burst in twain 
 
 your yoke; 
 And then these alien hirelings to other lands will go, 
 For Irishmen will now unite and deal that longed-for 
 
 blow. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 105 
 
 Cheer up, then, sons of Erin, Old Ireland must be free ; 
 At last we are united in fight for liberty. 
 The Orange and the Green will now march hand in hand 
 To strike a blow for liberty in dear Old Ireland. 
 
 No bigot shall our conscience mar, nor slave instill his 
 
 fears, 
 While fighting for our sacred rights as Irish Volunteers. 
 The Orange and the Green in triumph then will wave, 
 And soon you'll see a monument above brave Emmet's 
 
 grave. 
 
 DEAR OLD COLLOMANE. 
 
 When I was but a boy and played upon the village green, 
 Where you could hear the bagpipes in happy days I ween, 
 The boys and girls would often go to hear the Piper 
 
 Bawn, 
 And many a pleasant day I spent in dear old 
 
 CoUomane. 
 
 From Aughaville we often went on Sunday afternoon 
 To hear old Peter play the pipes — he gave us many a 
 
 tune ; 
 His wife sat close beside him as gentle as a fawn 
 And told them take their partners in dear old Col- 
 
 lomane. 
 
106 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 The boys and girls would courting go, and when the da)- 
 
 was o'er 
 With spirits gay would wend their way from thee to old 
 
 Dromore ; 
 Some would remain at Crowley's and take a cruiskeen 
 
 laun 
 And not go home till morningfrom dear old Collomane. 
 
 "The Croppy Boy" you would hear then, and "Rising of 
 the Moon," 
 
 Who dare run down old Ireland? — also the Paustin fuin. 
 I often heard McCarthy sing the "Colleen Bawn" 
 And "The Boys Are Coming Horne" in dear old Col- 
 lomane. 
 
 By field and mead and purling stream in youthful days I 
 
 strayed, 
 By hill and dale through wood and vale, through heather 
 
 and through glade ; 
 The days I spent in merriment, often until dawn, 
 I'll ne'er forget while life is left, in dear old Collomane. 
 
 I fancy I am often there, though in a foreign clime, 
 
 I'll ne'er forget your hills and vales and mountain peaks 
 
 sublime ; 
 I'll ne'er forget my early days in meadow, brook and 
 
 lawn. 
 When I a stripling went to play in dear old Collomane. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 107 
 
 AN IRISH GIRL. 
 
 She once lived home with parents dear before she crossed 
 
 the sea^ 
 And with a broken heart left her own country ; 
 She left the little babbling brook, the cottage by the hill. 
 Where she first saw the light of day, which made her 
 
 heart's blood thrill. 
 You'll meet her on the battlefield where cannon loud doth 
 
 roar, 
 You'll meet her in the banquet hall far, far from Erin's 
 
 shore, 
 You'll meet her in the pesthouse where she goeth at her 
 
 peril ; 
 No danger does she fear, for she's an Irish girl. 
 
 You'll meet her in the workshop, you'll meet her in the 
 
 store, 
 Waiting on the customers and selling goods galore ; 
 You'll meet her in the kitchen and dining-room also, 
 Her services are sought for wherever she may go. 
 You'll find her a designer, an artist and typewriter. 
 In fact, in every walk of life you may be sure to find her. 
 In the schoolroom and the music-hall each day you'll see 
 
 her whirl, 
 Always wrapped up in her work, for she's an Irish girl. 
 
 You'll find her in the restaurant and also at the books, 
 She's taken for her purity, not always for. her looks; 
 You'll find her in the factory, working like a slave, 
 But true to Faith and Motherland across the ocean's 
 wave; 
 
108 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 You'll see her Sunday morning with raiment rich and 
 
 rare — 
 There is no lady in the land but she can with compare. 
 When married she's contented more than a lord or earl, 
 Whatever cause, there's no divorce, for she's an Irish 
 
 girl. 
 
 She ne'er forgets the mother that nursed her night and 
 
 day, 
 Till she was forced to leave her home and go far, far 
 
 away. 
 Her father dear she thinks of, too, though she was young 
 
 in years. 
 And often when she thinks of him in silence she sheds 
 
 tears. 
 She's noted for her modesty, for that she is well known 
 In England and America as well as Innishowen ; 
 If e'er a man insults her, he'll do so at his peril, 
 For she would die before she'd yield, she is an Irish girl. 
 
 You'll find her in the drawing-room, with smiles she will 
 
 you greet 
 And Irish hospitality where'er you will her meet; 
 You'll find her at the organ and leader in the choir, 
 Instructing little children, it is her heart's desire ; 
 You'll find her in the convent, forever there to dwell. 
 Leaving all her kith and kin after a long farewell ; 
 She's a credit to her country despite the English churl, 
 Virtuous and faithful, for she's an Irish girl. 
 
 You'll find her in the meadow arid also on the lawn, 
 You'll find her in the dairy when the day begins to dawn. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 109 
 
 You'll find her in the creamery, you'll find her at the fair, 
 You'll find her with the milking pail, none with her can 
 
 compare. 
 When the boys go to court her with voices low and sweet 
 She treats them all with courtesy whene'er they chance 
 
 to meet. 
 You'll find her in South Africa, and also Mexico, 
 You'll always find an Irish girl, no matter where you go. 
 
 A TRIBUTE TO MAJOR JOHN M'BRIDE. 
 
 Who is he with stately mien who lately came to town, 
 Fearless as an eagle, with features bronzed and brown? 
 He fought in many a battle, but ne'er received a scar, 
 Though he was foremost in the fray when Kruger went 
 
 to war. 
 He bivouacked both night and day with comrades brave 
 
 and true. 
 Upon the veldt and on the hills, no fear he ever knew. 
 His thoughts were of his native land, he was his mother's 
 
 pride; 
 To-day she should feel proud of him, brave Major John 
 
 McBride ! 
 
 And when he left his native hills in Mayo far away. 
 
 He prayed that he would live to see the dawn of Free- 
 dom's day; 
 
 He steered his bark for Africa and fought for freedom 
 there, ; . .^ .: ^ 
 
 Though he would rather live at home and breathe his 
 native a;ir. 
 
110 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 When Botha raised his battle flag he rallied 'neath its 
 fold, 
 
 And swore that he would do or die beneath its green and 
 gold ; 
 
 He fought beside the valiant Boer and with his laws com- 
 plied, 
 
 And many a Saxon felt the blows of Major John 
 McBride. 
 
 He fought with gallant Blake, DeWet and General Conje, 
 
 too, 
 At Ladysmith and Kimberley, when balls like hailstones 
 
 flew. 
 At Krugersdorp and Mafeking he fought the redcoats 
 
 there, 
 Although they numbered ten to one he drove them in 
 
 despair. 
 Six hundred English hirelings lay dead upon the field, 
 McBride's command with shot and shell forced Fighting 
 
 Bob to yield; 
 And once again, at Spion Kop, he to the front did ride, 
 And when his horse was seen to fall, on foot rushed John 
 
 McBride. 
 
 Now he is in America and ready as of yore 
 
 To strike a blow for Motherland on poor old Erin's 
 
 shore. 
 The Peelers or the Redcoats, of them he has no fear. 
 On foot or on a prancing steed, this Irish Volunteer. 
 He fought in foreign lands to help the gallant Boer, 
 When English bullets rattled and cannon loud did roar; 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. Ill 
 
 So Irishmen get ready, he is old Erin's pride, 
 
 And terror to the Saxon race, is Major John McBride. 
 
 And when that longed-for morn arrives, in spite of King 
 
 or Peer, 
 Though outlawed now, he will be there, no danger does 
 
 he fear. 
 The hirelings of an alien race have met him once before, 
 That meeting was in Africa — the next will be Glenore. 
 His record is well known among the brave and true. 
 The sons and daughters of the Gael, the faithful and the 
 
 few; 
 The tears of the oppressed by him will soon be dried. 
 In freedom's cause he'll lead the van, brave Major John 
 
 McBride ! 
 
 We have been robbed of God's own rights by a brutal, 
 
 hireling crew; 
 Some are the spawn of Cromwell's breed, and some are 
 
 Irish, too. 
 The Dublin Fusileers good English soldiers made, 
 Though killed and captured on the veldt by the Irish- 
 Boer Brigade. 
 No more they'll see Fermanagh, Dundalk or Tanderagee, 
 They fought against the valiant Boer and Irish liberty ; 
 Fighting in a robber cause, those renegades all died 
 By blows dealt them by Irishmen like Major John 
 McBride. 
 
112 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 THINKING OF HOME. 
 
 In the great Golden West I am thinking of home, the 
 
 place where I first saw the light, 
 The meadows and brooklets and verdure so green and 
 
 sweet smiling faces so bright; 
 The church and the schoolhouse, the mill-pond and bright, 
 
 rolling river close by, 
 When my thoughts fly to thee, over mountain and sea, my 
 
 poor heart for you oft doth sigh. 
 
 I think of the days when I ofttimes strayed with the 
 
 boys and the girls so fair, 
 To Bantry's old town, that place of renown, where none 
 
 with her maids can compare. 
 God bless them, I pray, though far, far away across the 
 
 wide ocean so blue, 
 May the day soon be nigh when we'll conquer or die 
 
 a-fighting, Acushla, for you. 
 
 The hills and the valleys loom up in the gloom, the 
 
 meadows and murmuring streams, 
 Your far, far-off shore, I may ne'er see more, but you 
 
 oft will appear in my dreams. 
 Since the strangers have murdered and plundered our 
 
 race, and forced us to wander from home. 
 We shall never forget the foul deeds and the thefts, no 
 
 matter where'er we may roam. 
 
 These hirelings of hell, though a sad tale to tell, a curse 
 to my dear native shore, 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 113 
 
 Caused millions to go through weal and through woe and 
 
 never old Ireland see more. 
 The purest and dearest of Ireland's fair maids from 
 
 fathers and mothers would go, 
 And brothers and sisters with sad broken hearts, that in 
 
 foreign lands now are laid low. 
 
 Though sad is our fate since we should emigrate and 
 
 leave our own land far behind. 
 And the ivy-clad cottage that stood by the hill, their 
 
 memory's fresh in my mind. 
 May we yet see the day in foray or fray with an army in 
 
 dear Erin's Isle, 
 To banish the snakes from Killarney's fair lakes and 
 
 those who our homes would despoil. 
 
 I think of the days of my childhood always that I spent 
 
 in the land of my birth. 
 From the bridge by the grove where I often would rove 
 
 with my heart full of joy and of mirth. 
 The lodgehouse and gate, Davy Barry and Kate, Jago, 
 
 Dan Whelpley and Co., 
 I shall never forget while one breath is left, no matter 
 
 where'er I may go. 
 
114 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 THOUGHTS OF BOYHOOD DAYS. 
 
 How often, oh, how often, do I think of days gone by, 
 The church and little babbling brook where I knew 
 
 naught but joy; 
 Now in a foreign country, in dreams I'm often there, 
 Revisiting my childhood scenes, none with which can 
 
 compare. 
 The schoolhouse and the cottage that stood close by the 
 
 hill, 
 Where oft I played upon the green, my heart with joy 
 
 would fill. 
 
 The rough and ready warring blades to Ireland always 
 
 true, 
 First learned to hate the Saxon and made the tyrants few ; 
 I grew up in those troubled days in good old sixty-eight, 
 Till I was forced away from home, and had to emigrate. 
 I swore I'd not forget the past, though in a foreign clime. 
 For Ireland is my native land until the end of time. 
 
 That little schoolhouse still is there and rustic church 
 
 also. 
 Where I spent many happy days in childhood long ago ; 
 And though an exile far from there, across the deep blue 
 
 sea, 
 A hope remains within this heart old Ireland will be free. 
 If we could drive away from there the minions of the 
 
 Crown, 
 We'd raise once more above the red the Harp without 
 
 the Crown. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 115 
 
 GOLEEN. 
 
 From Bantry Bay one August day we started rather 
 early, 
 
 A lady fair with golden hair helped to make up the 
 party. 
 
 With lightning speed our faithful steed, with Jack be- 
 hind the lines. 
 
 From Droumourtneen to Gabriel we passed the 
 Capaugh mines, 
 
 The maids and matrons looked so fair tipon the village 
 green, 
 
 The Sunday I drove through the rain to speak at old 
 Goleen. 
 
 When I reached that ancient village that overlooks the 
 
 sea, 
 Where ruined castles yet remain in th' Isles of Carbery, 
 Where O'Driscolls and O'Mahoneys in former days 
 
 did reign, 
 Till the robbers came and plundered them from far 
 
 across the main. 
 That day I thought of you, Asthore, wrapped in your 
 
 emerald green, 
 When I told how you were plundered that Sunday at 
 
 Goleen. 
 
 It was convenient to the sea where they had pitched 
 
 their camp. 
 Brave men were there to do and dare, although the air 
 
 was damp. 
 
116 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 The cowardly Peelers too were there with weapons 
 
 shining bright, 
 To show John Bull their loyalty in case there was a 
 
 fight. 
 Joan Riley stood beside them, defiant was her mien. 
 No shoe or stocking did she wear that Sunday at 
 
 Goleen. 
 
 The meeting called to order, the speakers they began, 
 Joan Riley watched the Bobbies, she was foremost in 
 
 the van, 
 To see her as she gazed upon the minions of the Crown, 
 You'd swear she was determined to pull their colors 
 
 down; 
 She never took her eyes from off our floating flag of 
 
 green. 
 The Sunday I stood on the cart and spoke at old 
 
 Goleen. 
 
 The chairman bravely spoke his mind and told them 
 
 what to do, 
 If they stood by one another no power could them 
 
 subdue. 
 No parish Priest or Curate or Parson did I see. 
 To raise his voice to God above for Irish liberty. 
 Oh, mother dear, why must it be that they could not be 
 
 seen. 
 The Sunday I drove forty miles to speak at old Goleen ? 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. U7 
 
 Your daughter from America, a credit to your shore, 
 Who crossed the broad Atlantic where dashing billows 
 roar. 
 
 Was present at the meeting, with a sister young in 
 
 years, 
 And when I spoke of you, Machree— the two of them 
 
 in tears. 
 Their name is Lynch; they dearly love to wear the Irish 
 
 green, 
 
 And both were with me on that day I spoke at old 
 Goleen. 
 
 Raycroft bold, that knight of old, most manfully did 
 say, 
 
 "I'm not afraid of all the kings from London to Bom- 
 bay. 
 
 My kith and kin were murdered upon this sacred soil, 
 
 And I am here to strike a blow at those who would 
 despoil. 
 
 They robbed and plundered us from here along to 
 Droumourtneen, 
 
 So be prepared to smite them down, brave men of old 
 Goleen." 
 
 McCarthy brave, that shining light, like a warrior of 
 
 old. 
 Who fought the foe with blade and ball spoke fearlessly 
 
 and bold. 
 He's a credit to his country, a patriot brave is he, 
 And willingly would give his life to set old Ireland free. 
 
118 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 His record is well known and prized in Skibbereen; 
 He spoke like Charles Stewart Parnell that Sunday at 
 Goleen. 
 
 Bold Rahilly, with youthful face, spoke manfully that 
 
 day, 
 He told them to unite and hold the foe at bay. 
 Toohig, also, spoke his mind, and that defiantly 
 And willingly would fall in line to strike for liberty. 
 In McCormack's house we refuge found — his wife the 
 
 village queen — 
 She treated us right royally that Sunday at Goleen. 
 
 The meeting then being over, to Crook Haven we did 
 
 go, 
 Across the bay, that August day, indeed we were not 
 
 slow; 
 With Raycroft and McCarthy taking turns at the 
 
 wheel, 
 We ploughed right through the waters upon an even 
 
 keel. 
 Miss Lynch was on the quarterdeck, as graceful as a 
 
 queen. 
 As we landed on that shingled strand after we left 
 
 Goleen. 
 
 Then, when we reached McCarthy's house, his charm- 
 ing family 
 Cead mi-le failtha gave to us, adjacent to the sea; 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 119 
 
 We sat around his festive board and toasted him in 
 
 wine, 
 Surrounded by him family, as we all fell in line. 
 With prose and song Crook Haven rang, the like I 
 
 ne'er have seen. 
 That Sunday I drove o'er the hills to speak at old 
 
 Goleen. 
 
 And when we steered our bark for home, with forty in 
 
 the boat, 
 Three cheers we gave for Motherland, despite the 
 
 coastguard's float. 
 As fine a crowd of Irishmen as I would wish to see, 
 Each ready then to strike a blow for Irish liberty. 
 The ladies were the bravest that ever I have seen. 
 Who went with me through pouring rain that Sunday 
 
 to Goleen. 
 
 Now fare you well, McCarthy, Raycroft and old Joan, 
 I hope when next we meet again this land will be our 
 
 own. 
 May every robber landlord from Cork to Donegal, 
 Get little rent throughout the land, and may more 
 
 tyrants fall ; 
 May God deny them shelter in our own Isle of Green, 
 Long life to you, both one and all, good people of 
 
 Goleen ! 
 
120 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 A YEAR SINCE THEN. 
 
 One year has passed and gone since I was left alone, 
 My fondest love, my cherished hope, to heaven from 
 
 me has flown. 
 I miss her gentle footsteps, her voice so sweet and 
 
 mild, 
 With heavy heart I think of her as tender as a child. 
 Her picture hangs upon the wall, her music still is 
 
 there. 
 The keys she loved so well to touch, also the vacant 
 
 chair. 
 
 How fondly I recall to mind those happy days gone by, 
 I knew no care nor sorrow then, each hour I did enjoy ; 
 My only thought was of my love, my joy, my heart's 
 
 delight, 
 The sweetest soul that ever lived, an angel pure and 
 
 bright. 
 Her spirit sweet doth hover o'er our once happy home. 
 Where she as fair as e'er she was in dreams to me doth 
 
 come. 
 
 The cloud that now hangs o'er me I'll suffer for her 
 
 sake. 
 Though gloomy hours I've spent, since God from me 
 
 did take 
 The dearest one that ever lived, a mother and a wife, 
 Who was a treasure in herself before she gave her life 
 To the "Father of the Fathers" to keep her in his care. 
 Fully resigned to His good will, I never will despair. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 121 
 
 UNITY. 
 
 Oh, Motherland! pray cast aside your bigotry and 
 pride ; 
 
 Sure we were born on your soil and should stand side 
 by side. 
 
 Some may go to chapel and some the other way; 
 
 What matter when before one God we all kneel down 
 to pray? 
 
 We know but one true God who watches o'er us all ; 
 
 Then why not we united be and make the tyrants fall ? 
 
 Then grasp the Orange by the hand and let us all unite 
 
 And soon we'll have our own again despite all Eng- 
 land's might. 
 
 If we are once united, no power could us subdue, 
 Nor slave our conscience mar for to Ireland we'd be 
 true; 
 
 The Green and Gold we will unfold, united we will 
 
 stand. 
 To strike for home and liberty in dear old Ireland. 
 Let all go where they think is best and worship there 
 
 their God, 
 
 And then we'll strike for liberty on our own native 
 sod. 
 
 We know no sect, we know no king, but bow to God 
 on high. 
 
 To stand by Ireland and her cause, prepared to do or 
 die. 
 
122 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Let Ulster shake the brawny hand of Leinster o'er the 
 Boyne, 
 
 And Mayo shake with rebel Cork, all provinces en- 
 twine. 
 
 We know no south, we know no north, to Ireland we'll 
 be true, 
 
 No matter where we go to pray, for you, dear land, for 
 you. 
 
 Then brothers grasp each other's hands from the Shan- 
 non to the Boyne, 
 
 And let your toast be unity, and freedom yet will shine. 
 
 Let pope and parson go their way, with them we have 
 no fight, 
 
 But strike for Ireland's holy cause, and that with all 
 your might. 
 
 THE SISTER OF MERCY. 
 
 She gave up friends and parents dear, the dance and 
 
 banquet hall. 
 And now you'll find her w^th the sick, where duty doth 
 
 her call ; 
 She soothes them with her gentle voice, relieves them 
 
 of the pain. 
 She asks no pay for night or day, for she is all humane. 
 She never shirks from pestilence or plague of any kind. 
 But loves to help the feeble ones, she is so sweet and 
 
 mild. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 123 
 
 She goes through all the battlefields, no danger does 
 
 she fear. 
 And to the dying soldiers she whispers words of cheer. 
 
 She brings relief to sick and dying, though her own life 
 
 is at stake, 
 And goes through all the pest-houses, God's angels in 
 
 the wake. 
 When a plague is epidemic, she's always in the van. 
 And for the stricken victims she does the best she can. 
 The wounded she takes care of and soothes their 
 
 aching pain. 
 And when they're dying in the field, with them she 
 
 does remain. 
 Amid the thickest of the fight, when the cannon loud 
 
 doth roar, 
 You'll find the Sister at her post, though shot and shell 
 
 may pour. 
 
 She never thinks of death while she is at her post, 
 She knows no sect, she knows no fear, you'd never hear 
 
 her boast. 
 She's gentle and kind-hearted, treats rich and poor the 
 
 same, 
 She lives within the convent walls and Mercy is her 
 
 name. 
 The orphans and the wayward ones, of them she will 
 
 take care, 
 Her trust is in her God above for him to do and dare. 
 
124 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 She goes among the wounded and the dead upon the 
 
 field, 
 Her own Hfe she would sacrifice before that she would 
 
 yield. 
 
 No more she's in the ballroom, the theater or street, 
 In the sickroom or the hospital each day you will her 
 
 meet. 
 Her dress is of the plainest, her cross and beads also, 
 The emblem of her faith protects, no matter where she 
 
 go- 
 The rich and poor respect her, they're glad to have her 
 
 call, 
 When e'er there's sickness in their homes she visits one 
 
 and all. 
 When her hard day's work is over she spends long time 
 
 in prayer. 
 For with the Mercy Sister no lady can compare. 
 
 She gives up all earthly pleasure of bright and happy 
 days, 
 
 God's angels watching o'er her while she serves him 
 always. 
 
 She never dwells on pleasant hours spent in her child- 
 hood home. 
 
 But goes wherever God doth call when his command 
 doth come. 
 
 The Bible is her novel, the convent is her music hall. 
 
 The medicine her wine cup where duty does her call. 
 
 To dress the wounds of many with manner sweet and 
 kind. 
 
 None like this noble woman in this world you will find. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 125 
 
 ON BOARD THE "MAJESTIC " 
 
 (September 3, 1901.) 
 
 O'er foam-capped waves our gallant bark darts on be- 
 fore the wind, 
 
 And bears us from our motherland that we must leave 
 behind; 
 
 The Stars and Stripes are looming up and liberty is 
 there, 
 
 There is no nation on this earth with America can 
 compare. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Sailing home, sailing home, across the deep blue sea, 
 
 Sailing to Columbia, the land of libert}' ; 
 Sailing home, sailing home, across the deep blue sea. 
 
 Sailing to Columbia, the land of liberty. 
 
 Distinguished men there are on board whom I have 
 
 met before. 
 Dr. Rushton, Captain Kelly and Hanley of Glenore ; 
 Meyers famed of Toronto, a worthy man I trow. 
 With illustrious young Nelson and Dr. Moore also. 
 
 Soon we'll see Nantucket and Montauk Point you 
 
 know, 
 Sandy Hook and Bay Ridge, with Liberty aglow ; 
 That gift of gallant Frenchmen, known both far and 
 
 wide. 
 From here to St. Helena, where their greatest hero 
 
 died. 
 
136 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 You may boast about old Europe and antique scenes 
 
 galore, 
 Jerusalem and Palestine, Euphrates and Glandore ; 
 But give to me the Stars and Stripes, none with them 
 
 can compare, 
 Columbians noble emblem, the fairest of the fair. 
 
 CAPTURE OF LORD METHUEN IN SOUTH 
 
 AFRICA. 
 
 Oh ! Johnnie, dear, and did you hear the news through- 
 out the land? 
 
 Delary captured Lord Methuen away down on the Rand. 
 
 His baggage, mules and oxen all went on the stampede, 
 
 Paul Kruger should feel proud of such a noble deed. 
 
 He fought them from the dawn of day until the sun 
 went down, 
 
 And captured all his aides-de-camp and minions of the 
 Crown. 
 
 McBride I'm sure must have been there along with 
 gallant Blake, 
 
 The plans were laid by Irishmen the English ranks to 
 break. 
 
 Oh ! Johnnie, dear, keep silent, don't let the Irish know. 
 For they would like to see us whipped from here to 
 Aherlow. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 127 
 
 Those Irish Connaught rangers have caused King Ned 
 to fret. 
 
 Afraid they would desert him and fight with brave 
 De Wet. 
 
 The Dublin Fusiliers and Inniskillen corps 
 
 No more will fight in Africa against the gallant Boer. 
 
 Miss Gonne has stopped enlisting from Cork to Belfast 
 town, 
 
 No more recruits King Ned can get to guard his blood- 
 stained Crown. 
 
 Oh ! Johnnie, dear, what must we do to end this cruel 
 
 war? 
 I'd go down to South Africa if it were not so far. 
 They say McBride and Blake are there, and that keeps 
 
 me at home, 
 Around my own fireside at night from there I will not 
 
 roam. 
 Some scattered children of the Gael are fighting side 
 
 by side. 
 Along with brave DeLarey, De Wet and John McBride. 
 I wish that Cecil Rhodes, Joe Chamberlain and Co., 
 Doc. Jameson and Salisbury stealing did not go. 
 
 For they have ruined our commerce and credit far and 
 
 wide, 
 At home in dear old England and o'er the swelling tide. 
 
128 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Our army now is in disgrace, Britannia rules no more, 
 That flag that braved a thousand years defeat has met 
 
 galore. 
 Those Clan-na-Gaels and Graunawales have sworn to 
 
 pull down 
 The Union Jack v^here'er they can in spite of King or 
 
 Crown. 
 They think the Boer's cause like their own, that both of 
 
 them are right, 
 I wish that we gave them Home Rule to try and keep 
 
 them quiet. 
 
 I wish that Salisbury had sense to promise them Home 
 
 Rule, 
 And then when peace it was proclaimed those traitors 
 
 he could fool. 
 Just like the promise written on Limerick's treaty 
 
 stone. 
 You know we stole their lands from them and claimed 
 
 them as our own. 
 Some people say that God is just and watches o'er us 
 
 all. 
 And that's the reason I'm afraid our empire will soon 
 
 fall. 
 You know we robbed the Irish for seven hundred 
 
 years. 
 And now our cause is lost to us, we have no volunteers.* 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 129 
 
 A SHAMROCK FROM IRELAND. 
 
 There's a little plant that grows throughout old Erin's 
 
 Isle, 
 'Tis the emblem of our Fatherland and dear to the 
 
 exile. 
 The dearest plant in all this earth, to Irishmen a prize. 
 'Twas planted by vSt. Patrick, the Druids to civilize. 
 McCarthy sent it o'er the sea to fair Columbia's shore, 
 That pretty little sprig of green, the Shamrock from 
 
 Dromore. 
 
 He sent it in a latter and sealed it with his hand. 
 In memory of St. Patrick from dear old Ireland. 
 To me it is far dearer than the thistle or the rose, 
 For only in old Ireland that little emblem grows. 
 When I beheld its precious leaves I kissed it o'er and 
 
 o'er, 
 That pretty little sprig of green, the Shamrock from 
 
 Dromore. 
 
 Oh, how I love that little plant no tongue but mine can 
 
 tell. 
 The emblem of my native land, the shamrock of the 
 
 dell. 
 I wore it on St. Patrick's Day in my brand new 
 
 caubeen. 
 In the city of Los Angeles, in spite of king or queen. 
 Although it came six thousand miles, I cherish it the 
 
 more; 
 That pretty little sprig of green, the Shamrock from 
 
 Dromore. 
 
130 . BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Crook Haven grows that little plant, and also Skib- 
 
 bereen, 
 True men are there to do and dare from Bandon to 
 
 Goleen ; 
 McCarthy and Tim Sheehy, Raycroft and Jack Shea, 
 Are patiently awaiting and ready for the fray, 
 And would defend that priceless gem 'gainst any Saxon 
 
 corps — 
 That pretty little sprig of green, the Shamrock from 
 
 Dromore. 
 
 That sacred little emblem from me will never part. 
 
 In memory of St. Patrick's Day I'll wear it next my 
 
 heart. 
 Its three leaves will remind me of Faith and Father- 
 land, 
 And why St. Patrick planted it despite a pagan band 
 He planted it 'mong Irishmen where heathens were 
 
 galore. 
 That pretty little sprig of green, the Shamrock from 
 Dromore. 
 
 The daughters of old Erin that emblem too doth love, 
 They wear it on St. Patrick's Day, and red with green 
 
 above 
 In their silken, wavy hair, entwined with it is seen. 
 In memory of their patron saint and Erin, their loved 
 
 green. 
 They love their native country, and all of them adore 
 That pretty little sprig of green, the Shamrock from 
 
 Dromore. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 131 
 
 A VISIT TO THE OLD FOLKS' GRAVE. 
 
 There is one spot in Ireland that's ever dear to me, 
 Most sacred of all other scenes that overlook the sea. 
 It is not far from Galley Head, known both far and 
 
 wide. 
 Where you can hear the ocean roar at the ebbing of 
 
 the tide. 
 The green grass was thick and tall when I knelt there 
 
 to pray, 
 Which makes it dearer far to me in foreign lands away. 
 To see that spot since boyhood it was my daily crave, 
 At last God granted me that wish — to see m}^ parents' 
 
 grave. 
 
 One died while I was young in years on the broad At- 
 lantic foam, 
 Returning to his sick bedside in my dear native home. 
 My mother's spirit, too, has fled to that celestial shore 
 Where all will meet some future day where sorrow is 
 
 no more. 
 In Ardfield Graveyard both their bodies lie. 
 And often in the silent night my thoughts there to doth 
 
 fly- ■ 
 
 The green grass and the shamrock above their bones 
 doth wave. 
 
 That place is always dear to me, my parents' Irish 
 grave. 
 
132 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Three sisters, too, were buried there when they were 
 
 young in years, 
 And kneeHng o'er their resting place could not allay 
 
 my tears. 
 As I knelt there to pray for them and kith and kin 
 
 around, 
 I thought of how old Ireland by alien chains was 
 
 bound; 
 1 saw the ancient castles once held by Irish chiefs, 
 Who fought and bled defending them and struggling 
 
 for her griefs. 
 The robbers came and plundered and did us all enslave. 
 Not far from where I planted flowers above my 
 
 parents' grave. 
 
 WHY I'M SAD. 
 
 In a city by the seaside, 'mid the happy and the gay, 
 
 'Midst the peals of joy and laughter, I would fain be 
 far away ; 
 
 What's the matter? Once our comrade of happy by- 
 gone days. 
 
 You seem downcast, yes, and sullen, you were with us 
 . once always. 
 
 You oft joined us in the evening in the ballroom and 
 the hall. 
 
 Tell us truly what's the matter, you don't seem your- 
 . self at all. 
 
 Can it be there is a woman — as is often — in the case, 
 
 A smile that tells of sadness is now upon your face. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 133 
 
 Why do you talk of sadness? Perhaps you do not 
 
 know 
 What it is to lose a dear one who an angel was also ; 
 Wlien you stroll along the valley with no one by your 
 
 side, 
 You will think of days you spent with her, your loved 
 
 one and your pride ; 
 Who shared with you your troubles and tried to make 
 
 them small. 
 Never flinching night or morning when duty did her 
 
 call. 
 Yes, there was a woman, through the struggle and the 
 
 strife. 
 Whom I loved next to God above, for twenty years my 
 
 wife. 
 
 'Tis true I may seem sad to you and in your sports not 
 
 join, 
 But my thoughts were of the loved one, whose love 
 
 was always mine ; 
 And though she's numbered with the dead, her mem'ry 
 
 still is dear, 
 Methinks I hear a gentle voice now ringing in my ear. 
 Then how could I light-hearted be or mingle in the 
 
 throng. 
 When I think of her, my sweet one, and of her sweetest 
 
 song? 
 So never ask me if there was a woman in the case. 
 Yes, there was a precious treasure, and none may take 
 
 her place. 
 
134 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 MY FIRST VISIT TO GOUGANE BARRA. 
 
 We started for Gougane a goodly Sunday party, 
 Kelleher and Creeds and also Miss McCarty. 
 We left that ancient town adjacent to the bay, 
 To visit valleyed Desmond that pleasant summer's day. 
 That day will be remembered, a jolly crowd was there, 
 The ladies were of Irish birth with faces fresh and fair. 
 We drove through Main and New streets, too, 
 And up the hills toward Newton flew. 
 
 We journeyed on with lightning speed, 
 By woodland dell, by field and mead. 
 By crags and peaks and meadows too. 
 Lending enchantment to the view. 
 Burke Roach and wife in stately mien. 
 With O'Sullivan Beare, our village queen. 
 The ladies acted well their part. 
 As our cart careered due west by north. 
 
 Old Kealkill, picturesque and grand. 
 With Newton's cove and pearly strand ; 
 Baulin peaks and hills so high. 
 Just like the sunbeams passing by. 
 Then through the pass we gently glide. 
 With mountain peaks on every side. 
 You'd think you saw the Rockies there,. 
 Or Shasta's peaks high in the air. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 135 
 
 Such scenes as these are seldom seen 
 By tourists anywhere I ween, 
 The Sunday I drove through the glen, 
 With ladies fair and gentlemen ; 
 You'd think you saw Lord Bantry there, 
 With all his staff I do declare. 
 O'SuUivan Beare looked like a queen, 
 The fairest on the village green. 
 
 Miss Lyons and sister, charrriing, too, 
 Sang the old songs as well as new; 
 Their brother, too, did sweetly sing, 
 While O'Connor made the valley ring 
 With his elocution and warlike cry 
 When he recited famed Fontenoy. 
 O'Brien, who lately crossed the sea, 
 Encored and cheered him earnestly. 
 
 Farewell Gougane Barra, known both far and near, 
 
 I'd rather visit you than any English shire. 
 
 Your hills and vales and fields so green. 
 
 Cannot be equalled in the sheen ; 
 
 Your stalwart sons and maids so fair 
 
 Bring credit to you everywhere. 
 
 I wish that I could once more see 
 
 The purling streams that feed the Lee. 
 
136 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 AN APPEAL TO IRELAND. 
 
 (Victoria and Her Son Ned.) 
 
 (3h, Ireland ! Will you welcome him to your hos- 
 pitable shore ? 
 
 He comes now with the oHve branch, as he has done 
 before ; 
 
 He knew our kith and kin were robbed of homes, of 
 lands and all, 
 
 His mother gave us bayonets, buckshot and cannon 
 ball. 
 
 Just think of all our people from Tyrone to Skibbereen, 
 
 Buried without coffins, though subjects of the Queen; 
 
 Dying for the want of food she took from them away, 
 
 While famine raged throughout the land from Down 
 to Bantry Bay. 
 
 Her deeds are well recorded 'way down on the Rand, 
 As well as in .old Ireland with torch and blood-stained 
 
 hand; 
 Think of the Manchester martyrs, her voice could set 
 
 them free. 
 Their crime was love of country in fight for liberty. 
 Tim Cadogan, a farmer's son, the King said he should 
 
 die, 
 For the killing of a nasty Bird, upon the gallows 
 
 high ; 
 When the gallant sons of Carbery called out for Tim's 
 
 reprieve, 
 Ned said ''The Packer" wanted blood, and Tim's life 
 
 was made brief. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 137 
 
 Just think of all the cabins that were leveled in her 
 reign, 
 
 And the sons and daughters of our race forced to cross 
 the main; 
 
 Remember forty-seven and sixty-seven, too. 
 
 How Mitchel and brave Rossa were treated for being 
 true. 
 
 They had to leave old Ireland, that fair land of the fair. 
 
 That Britain plundered, ravaged, with Ned prospective 
 heir; 
 
 Now he succeeds his mother, by whom his plans were 
 laid. 
 
 Oh, Erin ! Will you welcome him with his blood- 
 stained brigade ? 
 
 If you do you'll shame the memory of the men of 
 
 forty-eight, 
 Who fought and bled for Ireland till forced to 
 
 emigrate ; 
 Just think of Captain Mackey, how he kept the foe at 
 
 bay, 
 And noble Eddie Duffy, whose life blood ebbed away 
 Within the walls and prison bars away from home so 
 
 dear, 
 With none to press his cold white hand and none to 
 
 give him cheer; 
 In a foul and filthy English jail they tortured him to 
 
 death, 
 Victoria was the reigning Queen who took away his 
 
 breath. 
 
138 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Oh, Erin ! Are your sons so base to welcome to your 
 
 shore 
 The rake who swore your Church was wrong now and 
 
 for evermore; 
 The despoiler of once happy homes that he helped to 
 
 pull down? 
 He ordered out his hirelings, the minions of the Crown, 
 To get rack rents for absentees to Spitalfields to go, 
 To spend in vile debauchery, as many of you know. 
 Now he throws out the bait to the sons of Garryowen, 
 But Ned, agra, you are too late, your tricks are too well 
 
 known. 
 
 You hanged a farmer's gallant son the first week of 
 
 your reign. 
 So Ned, avick, take my advice and with your wife re- 
 main ; 
 The Irish girls are virtuous, that you know full well, 
 You found that out when there before as history will 
 
 tell. 
 Take lessons from the past, you know you were not 
 
 slow. 
 Except when Ireland was at stake that country well 
 
 does know ; 
 In vile debauch you spent your cash, for Ireland none 
 
 to spare ; 
 And think you'll fool them once again by starting with 
 
 the fair. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 139 
 
 The Irish are a generous race, but for you they have no 
 
 use, 
 You helped to rob and plunder them and heaped on 
 
 them abuse ; 
 You sowed the seeds of discord throughout old Erin's 
 
 Isle, 
 When you took your anti-papist oath, the vilest of the 
 
 vile; 
 Perhaps you thought you'd find the Celts v^ould look 
 
 to you for hope. 
 Because you went to Italy to interview the Pope. 
 
 THE IRISH VOLUNTEER'S FAREWELL TO 
 
 HIS MOTHER. 
 
 "Oh, mother, dear, can it be true what I have heard 
 to-day ? 
 
 Is Kitchener burning women down in South Africa? 
 
 And starving mothers carrying babes, no clothes to 
 keep them warm? 
 
 No food to eat, no place to sleep, for he has seized the 
 farm?" 
 
 "Alas, alas, 'tis true, my child, all nations seem afraid, 
 
 While England plies the lighted torch with her blood- 
 stained brigade." 
 
 "I wish I were a man, mamma. I may do something 
 yet, 
 
 I then would go to Africa and fight with brave De 
 Wet." 
 
140 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 ''Ma gra machree, ma'bouchil oge, though sad I now 
 
 rejoice 
 To think that I have reared a son with such a manly 
 
 voice. 
 A sorrowing woman I have been since your brave father 
 
 died, 
 But if he were aHve to-day you'd be his joy and pride. 
 He was murdered in old Ireland by minions of the 
 
 Crown, 
 Defending our once happy home till Peelers pulled it 
 
 down. 
 Those cowardly dogs they murdered him, for they 
 
 were ten to one; 
 And a pike he carried, boy, from Swilly to the Bann." 
 
 "Oh, mother, come and tell me, and sit down by my 
 
 side; 
 That maybe in South Africa I'd join with John 
 
 McBride. 
 If you get me a Mauser I'll smite the tyrant low ; 
 You know that soon I'll be sixteen, I'm not too young 
 
 to go. 
 You say papa was murdered by soldiers of the Queen, 
 When fighting in old Ireland did he wear a suit of 
 
 green ? 
 If I get close to Kitchener — that Irish renegade — 
 I'll put a bullet in his brain, my plans will be well laid. 
 
 "I'll go before the captain and grasp him by the hand ; 
 He'll send me to DeLarey, on the veldt or on the Rand. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 141 
 
 I can swim the great Tugela, I can ride across the 
 
 plain, 
 I can bivouac with Botha through all his fierce 
 
 campaign. 
 Now, mother, give your blessing, for I vow to God on 
 
 high, 
 I'll go to fight with Botha, prepared to do or die ; 
 I'll avenge the death of papa, no danger do I fear. 
 But I want a mother's blessing before I volunteer." 
 
 She took her darling by the hand and stroked his flaxen 
 
 hair, 
 And pressed him closer to her heart, saying: "Now, go, 
 
 do and dare; 
 You have your mother's blessing, may God's be with 
 
 you, too, 
 And when you fight with brave De Wet, to motherland 
 
 be true ; 
 And when you see that blood-stained flag of England's 
 
 King and Queen, 
 Strike home and well for Innisfail, our native isle so 
 
 green ; 
 Remember all the miseries by English tyrants made; 
 God bless you now, my only son, of death be not 
 
 afraid." 
 
 "Farewell, mamma, I'll think of you at morning, noon 
 
 and night, 
 Till^ I return to you again, your joy and heart's delight. 
 
142 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 A cowardly son you never reared, that now I promise 
 
 you, 
 I'll face the foe through shot and shell, like father I'll 
 
 be true; 
 And should I perish in the fray, think of the son who 
 
 died 
 Fighting for the gallant Boers, who was his mother's 
 
 pride, 
 Against the Kerry Butcher, a traitor to our land. 
 God grant that I may meet him soon away down on the 
 
 Rand." 
 
 THE BELLE OF INGLESIDE. 
 
 I met her in her native State, 
 
 Not many months ago. 
 The bloom of youth was on her face 
 
 And milk white skin of snow. 
 Her golden hair hung o'er her back. 
 
 And eyes were sparkling bright, 
 When first I met this charming girl, 
 
 My joy and heart's delight. 
 And though I leave her far behind 
 
 And seas may us divide. 
 While life is left I'll ne'er forget 
 
 The Belle of Ingleside. 
 
 How sad it is to part with one 
 That is so dear to me. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 143 
 
 Through glen and vale, o'er hill 
 
 And dale and o'er life's stormy sea, 
 I wish her all the joys of life, 
 
 Health and wealth galore, 
 And long to see the face once more 
 
 Of her whom I adore. 
 She's fairer than the early dawn 
 
 Or sun at eventide. 
 The sweetest girl I ever met. 
 
 The Belle of Ingleside. 
 
 Now fare thee well my precious one, 
 
 To you 1 will be true. 
 While life remains in this poor heart 
 
 'Twill beat alone for you. 
 And should we never meet again, 
 
 No matter where I be, 
 I'll ne'er forget the happy hours 
 
 Spent in your company. 
 When we went through the Golden Gate 
 
 To take a carriage ride. 
 She looked far sweeter than the flowers — 
 
 The Belle of Ingleside. 
 
 The lilies and the daisies, and violets 
 
 In the dell 
 Could not compare with one so fair 
 
 The truth to you to tell. 
 And though she's in her tender years, 
 
 The subject of my theme, 
 
144 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 She holds my heart both night and 
 Day and haunts me hke a dream. 
 
 I whispered words of love to her 
 As wx sat side by side 
 
 'Neath the sun-kissed hills of Emmery — 
 The Belle of Ingleside. 
 
 I know she'll not forget the past 
 
 Although far, far away. 
 She'll take me to her heart again 
 
 When we meet in the Bay. 
 And when these longing eyes see hers 
 
 Of azure blue, 
 She^ll seem as fresh again to me, 
 
 Just as the morning dew ; 
 And if perchance we meet again, 
 
 My treasure and my pride, 
 I'll press her closer to my heart, 
 
 The Belle of Ingleside. 
 
 LOS ANGELES, CAL. 
 
 These fertile plains and valleys grow the orange and 
 
 the vine, 
 The fig tree and the olive, too, the blue gums and the 
 
 pine; 
 This climate it surpasses all, even France and sunny 
 
 Spain, 
 But give to me old Erin's Isle, I ne'er may see again. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 145 
 
 I often dream of you, asthore, your fields so fresh and 
 
 green, 
 Your smiling vales, your crags and peaks, the grandest 
 
 ever seen ; 
 The hours I spent I felt content beside your flowing 
 
 tide, 
 And the colleen dass I loved so well doth oft run in 
 
 my mind. 
 
 I know right well she thinks of me, though on a for- 
 eign shore, 
 Gra gal machree, ma colleen dass, I ne'er may see you 
 
 more; 
 I know full well she looked for me many times in vain, 
 And I would give this world if we could only meet 
 
 again. 
 
 And though salt seas doth us divide, to me you're ever 
 
 dear. 
 Your rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes, far off as well 
 
 as near; 
 My life I freely would give up if it would ever be, 
 That God decreed my native land like this one should 
 
 be free. 
 
 Though this soil is rich and beautiful and fragrance 
 
 fills the air. 
 The snow-clad hills and mountain peaks with Erin's 
 
 can't compare; 
 The daisies and primroses that blossom in the dell, 
 Killarney Lakes and Bantry Bay, Pacific plains excel. 
 
 10 
 
146 BI^TH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 ROOSEVELT'S CHARGE. 
 
 ''Onward !" shouted Roosevelt with his bronzed and 
 rugged face, 
 
 As his steed dashed up the mountain with a sure and 
 steady pace. 
 
 O'Neill was close behind him, a descendant of Owen 
 Roe, 
 
 When a bullet in the forehead, fired from ambush, laid 
 him low. 
 
 ''Onward ! March for Santiago," Teddy Roosevelt 
 boldly cried, 
 
 While shot and shell flew quick around, laying com- 
 rades by his side. 
 
 Shafter led his gallant forces to El Caney through 
 
 the hills. 
 Assisted by Rough Riders dashing over dykes and rills. 
 When Raf¥erty charged through the crags our victory 
 
 seemed plain. 
 For we could hear the slogan, "Remember, boys, the 
 
 'Maine' !" 
 "See the swarthy Toral coming," Colonel Wood was 
 
 heard to say, 
 "With his ragged dagoes crawling from the trenches 
 
 where they lay." 
 
 In a flash as quick as lightning Roosevelt's horse was 
 
 seen to fall. 
 And a cry rang through the mountain, "He is dead !" — 
 
 so thought we all. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 147 
 
 But grasping his revolver he dashed on without his 
 steed, 
 
 Crying out, ''Come on ! Come on, my boys ! our coun- 
 try now has need 
 
 Of all who have a spark of life ! Behold our comrades 
 slain ; 
 
 Avenge them and the gallant men who perished in the 
 'Maine.' " 
 
 "Remember Sigbee's battleship," Brodie brave did say, 
 "Likewise our gallant comrades, now in Manila Bay." 
 A cheer for gallant Hamilton was given with a will, 
 And also for the Seventy-first while marching up the 
 
 hill; 
 And Hamilton Fish, the brave young man who fell be- 
 fore San Juan, 
 Soldiers, sailors, all of them, adored him to a man. 
 
 Old Glory now most proudly floats o'er many foreign 
 lands, 
 
 And planted high on Morro walls by valiant hearts 
 and hands. 
 
 Should Bull or Bear or Kaiser dare to trifle with our 
 flag 
 
 We will show quick what we can do to any blood- 
 stained rag. 
 
 Our sailors and our soldiers can fight on land and sea, 
 
 As they have done in Cuba to set the people free. 
 
148 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Roose"velt, brave Dewey, Schley and Hobson, too, 
 Are not afraid of monarch's power or any foreign 
 
 crew. 
 When Theodore is President, as he is sure to be. 
 With Dewey in the navy, then we'll chase them from 
 
 the sea. 
 Long life to Teddy Roosevelt and his gallant cavalry, 
 Whose blows at Santiago were struck for liberty. 
 
 CALIFORNIA'S WELCOME TO PRESIDENT 
 ROOSEVELT. 
 
 Thrice welcome to the nation's Chief from the Golden 
 
 West I write, 
 From North and South, from East and West, to greet 
 
 you we unite. 
 We know no party, we know no clan, all hail our 
 
 Chieftain brave. 
 Who burst in twain the yoke and chain, and freedom 
 
 gave the slave. 
 He was foremost in the battle van that set the Cubans 
 
 free. 
 And left his home and tender babes to strike for liberty. 
 He's our country's choice we all know well throughout 
 
 Columbia's shore. 
 And we'll elect him once again as we have done before. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 149 
 
 O'er the Sierras to our city he comes with goodly 
 
 speed, 
 God's angels watching in his wake, our country doth 
 
 him need ; 
 He fears no foe, he fears no power except that One on 
 
 high, 
 His watchword is America and for that land would die. 
 His heart is full of charity for those who are oppressed; 
 No friend is he of tyranny, that oft he has expressed; 
 He knows no clan, he knows no sect, is to his country 
 
 true, 
 And only knows one nation's flag, our own red, white 
 
 and blue. 
 
 Cead mi-le failtha once again from Frisco's Golden 
 
 Gate, 
 One million voices join with mine to welcome you in 
 
 state. 
 Long may your life be spared to us and those you love 
 
 so dear; 
 While you are in the White House no danger do we 
 
 fear; 
 Through you we'll have a navy and gunboats soon to 
 
 spare, 
 And then no nation on this earth with this one can 
 
 compare. 
 Hip! hip ! hurrah ! he comes to-day, the greatest chi^f 
 
 of all ; 
 Sing loud his praise and life-long days in house and 
 banquet hall. 
 
150 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 CALIFORNIA. 
 
 In the land of wreaths and sunshine, out in the golden 
 
 West, 
 Are the homes of many exiles whom foreign laws 
 
 opprest. 
 You'll meet them here from Italy, from France and 
 
 sunny Spain, 
 From Germany and Switzerland, from far across the 
 
 main, 
 The Russian and the Hollander, the Swede and Norman, 
 
 too. 
 The sons and daughters of the Gael, to Erin always 
 
 true. 
 Oppressions and plutocracy, despotic laws and 
 
 monarchy. 
 They could not bear quite patiently, so they left home 
 
 for liberty. 
 
 The Finlander and Icelander have followed in their 
 
 train, 
 The Hebrew, Greek and Polander, the rough and 
 
 rugged Dane; 
 The Austro-Hungarian, the Slav and Portugee, 
 The Belgian and the Norseman whose homes are on the 
 
 sea. 
 The Scotchman with his brawny hands you will find 
 
 here also. 
 Sometimes digging for the gold, you know he is not 
 
 slow. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 151 
 
 The Arab from Arabia you will in the Far West find. 
 They could not live in their own homes so left them 
 far behind. 
 
 From Servia, Herzegovina, Turkey and Siam, 
 Macedonia and South Africa, China and Japan ; 
 Singapore, Hawaii, South Seas and Java, too ; 
 Corea, Persia, Russia, Burmah and Timbuctoo ; 
 Morocco, Madagascar, Madeira, the Azores, 
 And the dusky sons of Mexico, our friends, but once 
 
 our foes; 
 Our banner now floats o'er them all, no matter who 
 
 they be, 
 'Twas planted by George Washington, who made this 
 
 country free. 
 
 There is no place for tyrants here, so let them dare to 
 come, 
 
 We have no use for absentees in this our future home; 
 
 We have no use for kings or queens, so let them under- 
 stand 
 
 This is the freeman's only 'home from every foreign 
 land. 
 
 The rich and poor are equal here, thank God for 
 liberty ; 
 
 The West is now inhabited by those who would be 
 free. 
 
 All now comply with native laws, established by the 
 sword. 
 
 And freedom smiles on every face trusting in one God. 
 
nr BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 And should a call to arms ring, 'tis then we would 
 
 unite, 
 And march beneath Old Glory to fight with all our 
 
 might ; 
 The Dutchman and the Irishman, the Scotchman and 
 
 the Dane, 
 The Frenchman and the Polander and the swarthy son 
 
 of Spain, 
 Would march beneath that banner that no power dare 
 
 ■ assail. 
 With Roosevelt foremost in the van with soldiers of 
 
 ; the Gael, 
 The Hessian and the Saxon, and the Dago in the rear, 
 We'd sweep from off the universe, for we can do and 
 
 dare. 
 
 Let -Germany with all her ships and Hoch the Kaiser, 
 
 too, 
 England and the Dagoes, that blood-stained hireling's 
 
 crew. 
 Let them come out by day or night, we'll chase them 
 
 ■from the sea> 
 With Roosevelt and brave Dewey, who fought for 
 
 liberty. 
 We showed John Bull what we could do 'way back in 
 
 seventy-six. 
 Since then we have grown older and up to all his 
 
 • tricks; 
 Let Italy and Germany, England and Japan 
 Call oiit their forces any day, we'll lick them to a man. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 153 
 
 And if that hour should ever come, just at the bugle's 
 
 call 
 The people from the nations would rally one and all. 
 Then all would be Americans and by that banner stand, 
 " 'Twas planted by George Washington throughout 
 
 this glorious land ; 
 'Tis the emblem of our country and never will come 
 
 down,'' 
 We place our trust in Providence, in valley, hill and 
 
 town. 
 Let the Britons nov\^ blockade and their piracy pursue. 
 We'll make them keep their hands off our own red, 
 
 white and blue. 
 
 A TRIP TO HONOLULU. 
 
 Roll on, my gallant bark, thro' foam-capped waves and 
 
 wind. 
 Though you bear me from fondest friends that I must 
 
 leave behind; 
 And now upon the boundless deep as billows 'round 
 
 me swell, 
 I. whisper back to those I love a parting fond farewell. 
 It may be weeks, it may be months, ere we shall meet 
 
 again. 
 But I'll be true to eyes of blue on land or on the main. 
 So Kathleen, dear, cheer up your heart undaunted do 
 
 thou be, 
 I'll count the days, I'll count the hours, till I return to 
 
 thee. 
 
154 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Chorus. 
 Sailing, sailing, on the "Siberia," 
 Sailing, sailing, from San Francisco Bay; 
 Sailing, sailing, on the ocean crest. 
 Sailing, sailing, from the Golden West. 
 
 And though in distant lands I be, far, far away from 
 
 home, 
 My thoughts will be of you, dear heart, no matter 
 
 where I roam. 
 ['11 keep you in my memory morning, noon and night. 
 Till I'll return to you again my joy and heart's delight. 
 It may be in Hawaii, it may be in Hong Kong, 
 It may be in Manila, mingling in the throng. 
 Blow on you winds and carry back to those I love so 
 
 well 
 My future hopes of brighter days in happiness to dwell. 
 
 The flying-fish and porpoise I see swimming with the 
 
 tide, 
 The sea-gulls and the albatross are on the ocean wide. 
 Though the waves are high as mountains, no danger 
 
 do we fear. 
 With a captain brave and joll}^ crew our stately ship to 
 
 steer. 
 The storm now is o'er, the sun is shining bright. 
 All hands are on the promenade, with faces smiling 
 
 bright. 
 We're bound for Honolulu, the land of sugar cane, 
 But I'll return before it's long and home with you 
 
 remain. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 155 
 
 KING NED'S SPECIAL DISPENSATION. 
 
 Oh, Paddy did you hear the news throughout old Erin's 
 Isle? 
 
 Ned took the Anti-Papist Oath, the vilest of the vile. 
 
 He denounced the Pope and Cardinals, the Priests and 
 Bishops, too. 
 
 And swore they were idolators, a superstitious crew. 
 
 And now the Pope rewards him with a special dis- 
 pensation, 
 
 To eat meat on a Friday, the day of his coronation. 
 
 Sure Paddy, dear, I would not let my dog eat it at 
 home, 
 
 Although I got permission from the Holy Church at 
 Rome. 
 
 When I was in old Ireland, some thirty years ago. 
 To eat it on a Friday would send me down below. 
 But times have changed since then, avic, the Pope 
 
 prayed for the Queen, 
 Who murdered men and women from Tyrone to Skib- 
 
 bereen. 
 If I got it three times a week, I'd ask for it no more, 
 And never would I emigrate from poor old Erin's 
 
 shore. 
 Vaughan and Rampollo, Norfolk and his clan, 
 Care no more for old Ireland than I do for Japan. 
 
158 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Faith, Mike, I think it was a shame to grant the King 
 
 permission 
 To feed his subjects on flesh meat the day of its 
 
 omission. 
 Although it was no law of God, sure you and^ I know 
 
 well, 
 To eat it on that day we thought would send us 
 
 straight to hell. 
 And now just after mocking us, and our clergy true 
 
 and tried, 
 Vaughan and Rampollo the whole thing would decide. 
 And now throughout old Ireland the gluttons of the 
 
 Crown 
 Can say the King is next to God in city and in town. 
 
 God knows then, Pat, avic, machree, I would not be sur- 
 prised 
 
 If they made Vaughan Pope of Rome by means they 
 have devised. 
 
 You know by grant of Adrian against the Irish cause. 
 
 He killed and plundered all our kin, sustained by Eng- 
 lish laws. 
 
 If Ned could now control the Pope, to Rome he would 
 be true, 
 
 Och, the blood is boiling in my veins, what would poor 
 Ireland do? 
 
 Sure if we kept back Peter's pence and sent no more to 
 Rome, 
 
 You'd hear a howl from Vaughan & Co, throughout 
 our native home. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 157 
 
 Sure Pat, Ned said the Pope was wrong, Lord's supper 
 
 was a lie, 
 The Mass was superstitious and Leo did defy. 
 The Pope knew all about this oath taken by King Ned, 
 But the feasting was postponed a bit, the King was 
 
 sick in bed. 
 Still from the Propaganda the dispensation came. 
 To eat meat on a Friday, the Pope affixed his name. 
 So all his Irish subjects who were loyal to the Crown, 
 Could feed on meat upon that day, from Cork to 
 
 County Down. 
 
 Now, Pat, what do you think of that, pray tell me if 
 
 you can. 
 Don't you think they insulted us right from the 
 
 Vatican? 
 Sure, if the Pope took such an oath against the English 
 
 Church, 
 They'd raise a cry throughout the land and leave us in 
 
 a lurch. 
 Begorra, Pat, I thought to-day this world was all a 
 
 stage. 
 And Priest and Pope could play their part from child- 
 hood to old age. 
 God knows, agra, we have been true to the Holy Church 
 
 of Rome, 
 Though England killed our kith and kin and drove us 
 
 from our home. 
 
158 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 ON SEEING A BEAUTIFUL IRISH GIRL TAK- 
 ING A LAST FAREWELL OF HER AGED 
 MOTHER. 
 
 (Scene: Bantry, August, 1901.) 
 
 One day in dear old Ireland, I never shall forget, 
 
 My heart was filled with sadness, my eyes with tears 
 
 were wet, 
 As I saw the gray-haired mother taking a last farewell, 
 And press the child close to her heart, a sad tale 'tis to 
 
 tell. 
 She knew that she would ne'er again her loving child 
 
 embrace. 
 For she was going across the sea with thousands of 
 
 her race, 
 And forced to leave her home by cursed alien laws, 
 But true to faith and motherland and Ireland's holy 
 
 cause. 
 
 I saw the mother in a swoon as the daughter went 
 
 away. 
 She gave a long and anxious look at dear old Bantry 
 
 Bay, 
 "Slaun lat,'' said she, "Acushla asthore machree. 
 My blessing go along Avith you to your new country. 
 Think of your father in his grave, beside him I'll soon 
 
 be. 
 How sad it is that you must go across the deep blue 
 
 sea. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 159 
 
 Farewell, farewell, once more my child, I'll ne'er see 
 
 you again. 
 For you are leaving kith and kin to dwell across the 
 
 main. 
 
 "Oh, would that I could keep you now, in my declining 
 
 years. 
 How peacefully I'd close my eyes and wipe away my 
 
 tears, 
 But foul oppression forces you to leave your mother 
 
 dear. 
 That's robbed us of God-given rights and homes once 
 
 happy here. 
 'Tis sad to part with you, asthore, or one so good and 
 
 pure. 
 But for old Erin and her cause my troubles I'll endure. 
 My daily prayers shall be for you while on the raging 
 
 deep, 
 Think of your mother dear who oft for you will weep." 
 
 This scene I witnessed lately in famed old Bantry Bay, 
 One morning as I took a stroll along the pier and quay. 
 To see the gray-haired mother her tears flowed fast 
 
 and free, 
 For the daughter who was leaving for the land of liberty. 
 The blood was boiling in my veins while gazing on the 
 
 scene, 
 To see my sister of the Gael leaving our isle of green. 
 I saw out in the harbor, the English craft and crew. 
 That forced the children of the Gael to cross the ocean 
 
 blue. 
 
160 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 -For they protect the robbers who stole our land away, 
 Which caused us all to leave our homes far, far from 
 
 Bantry Bay. 
 Oh, cruel alien hirelings, traitors to your soil. 
 For you were bred on Irish earth and in slavery doth 
 
 toil, 
 You're the cause of Erin's loved ones being forced to 
 
 emigrate. 
 But soon, thank God, we'll take our stand and you 
 
 exterminate, 
 The sons and daughters of the Gael will then at home 
 
 remain, 
 For we will strike for libertv and freedom will obtain. 
 
 May the mothers' cry for vengeance 'gainst cursed 
 
 English laws 
 Be heard throughout old Ireland for freedom's holy 
 
 cause; 
 May the grabber and the agents and soldiers of the 
 
 crown, 
 Get little rest by day or night and meet with scowl and 
 
 frown; 
 May emigration soon be stopped throughout old Erin's 
 
 shore. 
 And boys and girls remain at home from Goleen to 
 
 Dromore ; 
 May the mother's tears avenged soon be for her who 
 
 sailed away 
 And bid farewell to home and friends in dear old 
 
 Bantry Bay. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 161 
 
 GLENGARIFF'S LOVELY BAY. 
 
 There is one spot in Ireland that's ever dear to me, 
 
 Beside that ancient castle that overlooks the sea, 
 
 Its antique walls and buttresses were built in days 
 
 gone by. 
 By the robbers and marauders who did our homes 
 
 destroy. 
 They robbed us of our priceless art we cherished night 
 
 and day. 
 With torch in hand a ruthless band destroyed Glen- 
 
 gariff's lovely Bay. 
 
 The tall oak and arbutus, the willow and the pine, 
 The hemlock and the hazel you'll see them all entwine ; 
 The primrose and the daisy bedeck the village green, 
 The blackbird and the thrush and goldfinch too I ween. 
 Their notes you'd hear re-echo anear or far away. 
 There is no place throughout the earth Hke Glengariff's 
 lovely Bay. 
 
 The boys and girls are beautiful and none can them 
 
 excel. 
 At Hotel Roach you'll find fair maids, the fairest in the 
 
 dell: 
 Miss Lottie is the pride and Hly of the vale, 
 A credit to her native land, my darling Innisfail. 
 The Misses Roach are charming girls, that I can 
 
 proudly S3.y, 
 They'll ahvays greet you with a smile in Glengariff's 
 
 lovely Bay. 
 
 11 
 
162 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 At Vickery's and Roach's, in the Glen or in the Bay, 
 You'll find no place to equal them, anear or far away; 
 Miss Lannan and Miss Collins are as fair as I have 
 
 seen 
 In Bantry or Glengariff or Paris, too, I ween. 
 The hours I spent in Glen and Vale, I think of night 
 
 and day, 
 And long to gaze once more upon Glengariff's lovely 
 
 Bay. 
 
 Now often in the stilly night my thoughts fly back to 
 you, 
 
 Where the sun-kissed hills and meadows green are 
 moistened with your dew. 
 
 The tourists who have seen your vales, claim none can 
 you excel, 
 
 Your mountain peaks and purling streams that mur- 
 mur in the dell ; 
 
 I've heard the echo in the Glen one pleasant summer 
 day, 
 
 Farewell, farewell, asthore machree, Glengariff's lovely 
 Bay. 
 
 Your shady groves and valleys are ever dear to me. 
 Your scenery surpasses the Shannon or the Lee. 
 The lilies and the violets and ivy green also. 
 Lend enchantment to the view no matter where you go. 
 You're the dearest spot on Irish soil ; in foreign lands 
 
 away 
 Wearily I long to see Glengariff's lovely Bay. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 163 
 
 Now fare you well, Glengariff, acushla asthore 
 
 machree, 
 I'll ne'er forget your beauties in this land of liberty. 
 Although I'm in a foreign land, you'll find no change 
 
 in me, 
 'Though I may never see you I'll keep you in memory. 
 You're dearer far to me than Killarney or Lough Rea, 
 .So let us weed out Cromwell's breed from Glengariff's 
 
 lovely Bay. 
 
 MY SECOND VISIT TO GOUGAN BARRA. 
 
 By crags and peaks and idyllic scenes we journeyed on 
 
 our way, 
 From Kealkill to Gougan along with Jack O'Shea; 
 The rain came like an avalanche and oh, how it did 
 
 pour. 
 As we drove through the pass that day in sight of 
 
 Coumonore. 
 We went through famed Keimaneigh, that old historic 
 
 place. 
 Where the yeomen met their Waterloo and King 
 
 George did disgrace. 
 Where the brawny sons of Kealkill, Snave and Braur- 
 
 lin, too, 
 Fought the minions of the Crov/n when shot like hail- 
 stones fiew. 
 
164 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 We journeyed on through pouring rain, no danger did 
 
 we fear, 
 And when we reached the monastery we got a hearty 
 
 cheer. 
 Deep-valleyed Desmond looked so grand and lovely to 
 
 behold. 
 Where Munster's king once reigned supreme, defiantly 
 
 and bold. 
 The sources of the River Lee were murmuring in the 
 
 vale. 
 That sacred spot that's ne'er forgot in dear old Innis- 
 
 fail. 
 To see the little island church in Fin Bar's Monastery, 
 And the purling streams rush down the rocks that fed 
 
 the River Lee. 
 
 After visiting that ancient place we steered our bark 
 
 for home. 
 The sights we saw we'll ne'er forget for many years to 
 
 come. 
 O'SuUivan and McCarthy, Lynch, O'Brien and Shea 
 Sang that evening coming home from Gougan to the 
 
 Bay: 
 ''AVhen the Harvest Days Are Over," then came ''Dolly 
 
 Gray," 
 "Mavourneen" and the "Irish Rose" and "Sailing 
 
 Down the Bay" ; 
 "Every Nation Has a Flag," that was well rendered, 
 
 too; 
 Also the "Starrv Banner," our own red, white and blue. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 165 
 
 The tourists of that Sunday are scattered far and wide, 
 Some in their homes on Irish soil, some o'er the ocean 
 
 wide; 
 Some now reside in Boston, down in the old Bay State, 
 Where the tea was pitched into the sea, the taxes being 
 
 too great. 
 They were a jolly company, that day I'll ne'er forget, 
 I've thought of it through gloomy hours, I'm thinking 
 
 of it 3^et. 
 Their songs re-echoed in the Pass as we drove from 
 
 Gougan 
 To Bantry Bay that August day and then to 
 
 Collomane. 
 
 THE IRISH BOER BRIGADE. 
 
 M'Bride and Blake commanded the Irish Boer Brigade, 
 Three thousand strong they marched along through 
 
 valley, hill and glade. 
 While being reviewed by Kruger, defiantly their mien. 
 Their watchword Faugh-a-Ballagh, the boys who wore 
 
 the green. 
 How anxiously they waited their ancient foe to meet. 
 With shrapnel, grape and cannister, equipments all 
 
 complete. 
 
 The bloody siege of Limerick, New Ross and Oulart 
 
 Hill, 
 Wolfe Tone and Robert Emmet, that made their 
 
 heart's blood thrill, 
 
166 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 All anxious now to meet the foe and deal him blow for 
 
 blow, 
 And to avenge the bloody deeds of centuries ago. 
 All Limerick's treaties broken that were promised, 
 
 written, made, 
 Now charge them, boys, and drive them back, brave Irish 
 
 Boer Brigade. 
 
 Although it is on African instead of Irish soil. 
 
 Your hatred must be none the less for those who did 
 
 despoil 
 Our homes and lands and sacred rites in modern ages, 
 
 too, 
 And butcher men for worshipping their God above, so 
 
 true. 
 This is the land of missioners, of Bibles and of tracts, 
 The hypocrite of nations, who annuls God's sacred acts. 
 
 Oh, freemen of the world, behold this bloody strife, 
 How England tries to crush the Boer and take away 
 
 his life. 
 High heaven gave him titles which no one dare assail. 
 And miay God guide the bullets of the sons of Innisfail ; 
 His home out of the wilderness with brawny arms he 
 
 made, 
 Defend him now and God will bless the Irish Boer 
 
 Brigade. 
 
 Remember forty-seven when famine did prevail. 
 From Donegal in Ulster to Sherkin and Kinsale, 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 167 
 
 How England took the food away to feed her Saxon 
 
 crew, 
 And let our people starve to death. Oh ! millions then 
 
 they slew. 
 Think of the waifs and widows by barbarous England 
 
 made, 
 From Donegal to Skibbereen, brave Irish Boer 
 
 Brigade. 
 
 Think of the men of forty-eight and sixty-seven, too, 
 Bill Allen and Joe Brady, O'Brien and Duffy, too, 
 Pete Crowley and Will Larkin, martyrs all did die, 
 With gallant Michael Barrett, who did John Bull defy ; 
 Now show the gallant Kruger the Gaels are not afraid 
 Of fusilier or grenadier, brave Irish Boer Brigade. 
 
 Think of the seven centuries of murder, the gallows 
 and the jail. 
 
 Our confiscated God-given rights to our own Innisfail ; 
 
 Think of the men of ninety-eight who fought for free- 
 dom's cause, 
 
 On Irish soil for liberty 'gainst cursed Saxon laws. 
 
 Our clergy murdered at their shrines, when low to God 
 they prayed. 
 
 Avenge them now, with steady aim, brave Irish Boer 
 Brigade. 
 
168 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 COMOHOLA. 
 
 One summer's day from Bantry Bay to Kealkill town 
 
 we went 
 To view the fields and meadows green upon out 
 
 pleasure bent. 
 At Comohola Hills we pitched our camp adjacent to 
 
 the road, 
 Where you could see up in the glen Tim Cadogan's 
 
 abode. 
 And brawny mountaineers with bronzed and rugged 
 
 mien, 
 Prepared to strike for Ireland and her glorious flag of 
 
 green. 
 Lynch and Cotter led the van, the Peelers in the rear, 
 With speech and song the valley rang by men to do 
 
 and dare. 
 
 The Reverend Father took the chair and told them one 
 and all. 
 
 That they should speak their native tongue from Cork 
 to Donegal. 
 
 The English is a foreign one : they forced us to comply 
 
 With the language of the Sassenach when our own 
 they did destroy. 
 
 Cotter was the next to speak, and he spoke right man- 
 fully— 
 
 He told how Sarsfield fought and bled for Irish liberty, 
 
 And spoke the Irish language in France with his 
 brigade. 
 
 At Fontenoy and Limerick and also at Belgrade. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 169 
 
 Lynch, the teacher, also spoke and told them fall in 
 
 line 
 And learn to speak the Gaelic tongue from Shannon 
 
 to the Boyne. 
 He told them how they were plundered by an alien 
 
 hireling crew. 
 Who stole their books and manuscripts, but ne'er could 
 
 them subdue. 
 And now they must resuscitate that language so long 
 
 dead: 
 Here are the books, put down your names, by your 
 
 good pastor led. 
 O'Brien then sang old "Keimaneigh," you'd swear he, 
 
 too, was there. 
 The cheering and the yelling drove the Peelers to 
 
 despair. 
 
 The sergeant is a bachelor and that you all know well, 
 No Irish girl would marry him, the truth to you I tell. 
 He's a hirehng of the Government that stole our tongue 
 
 away, 
 And doing Iscariot's dirty work from Gougane to the 
 
 Bay. 
 Soon he'll have to take the pick, the shovel and the hoe 
 And bundle up his livery and from old Ireland go. 
 We'll have no use for Bobbies, old Ireland must be free. 
 For the Gaelic is our battle cry in fight for liberty. 
 
 Long life to you brave Cotter, O'Brien and Lynch also. 
 That you may help to free your land and smite the 
 tyrant low. 
 
170 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 May the language now in vogue by you take root in 
 
 Irish soil 
 And help lo chase the foe away who did our homes 
 
 despoil. 
 May the boys and girls of Kealkill, Comohola and 
 
 Gougane 
 Speak Irish when they courting go from Cork to 
 
 Collomane ; 
 May Mrs. Dowling live to hear the sweet tongue of the 
 
 Gael 
 On the lips of every colleen in dear old Innisfail. 
 
 WHEN PAPISTS COULD APPLY. 
 
 When freedom's cause throughout the land was in its 
 
 infancy, 
 And the banner of the patriots waved triumphantly, 
 The men who rallied 'neath its folds knew neither creed 
 
 nor fear. 
 But to fight for home and liberty did proudly volunteer. 
 When Lafayette came here from France, prepared to 
 
 do or die. 
 You would not hear those nasty words: "No Papists 
 
 need apply !" 
 
 When Kosciusko crossed the seas to fight for freedom's 
 
 cause, 
 He left his home and country, oppressed by Russian 
 
 laws, 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION., 171 
 
 And sought the camp of Washington with ready sword 
 
 in hand. 
 To help to strangle tyranny in Columbia's fair land ; 
 The foreigner was welcome then, for freedom was his 
 
 cry. 
 And no such words were ever heard : "No Papists need 
 
 apply." 
 
 At Trenton and at Monmouth, the foreigners were 
 
 game; 
 Moll Pitcher and Ted Murphy, John Bull did promptly 
 
 tame. 
 Molly manned the cannon, killing tyrants by the score, 
 While Murphy's sure and stead aim left Fraser in his 
 
 gore. 
 Fitzgerald was with Washington, and proudly would 
 
 he die. 
 Fighting in the ranks with him when Papists could 
 
 apply. 
 
 O'Brien and his seven sons, who, history will show, 
 Chased the English tyrants and dealt them blow for 
 
 blow. 
 When war was raging in the land, they fought upon 
 
 the sea. 
 And captured England's man-o'-war, and swore they 
 
 would be free. 
 In those proud days no A. P. A.'s would join in battle 
 
 cry, 
 And no such words could e'er be heard : "No Papists 
 
 need apply." 
 
173 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 When Washington was short of funds, after a long 
 
 campaign, 
 Philadelphia sent him succor, his soldiers to maintain ; 
 To fight for freedom's holy cause and drive the Saxon 
 
 back, 
 The hirelings of King George's blood-stained, greedy 
 
 pack. 
 They give three cheers for liberty and Washington was 
 
 their cry, 
 For all of these were Papists — then Papists did apply ! 
 
 Jack Barry was a sailor, well known from shore to 
 
 shore. 
 And made the English quake with fear when he was 
 
 commodore. 
 When British gold was offered him, he spurned the 
 
 same with pride ; 
 And flung the insult back at George, for he was true 
 
 and tried. 
 But Barry was an Irishman, and raised aloud the cry, 
 How dare you say, you A. P. A., ''No Papists need 
 
 apply"? 
 
 At the battle of Antietam and Gettysburg also. 
 
 That foreigners took an active part the bigots well do 
 
 know, 
 When the vilest reptiles of this earth to Canada did 
 
 repair, 
 And sought a refuge from John Bull, who kept them 
 
 in his lair. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 173 
 
 And those who bought a substitute, with the enemy to 
 
 cope, 
 Now cry aloud : "Protection and save me from the 
 
 Pope r 
 
 The scum of all the universe, the A. P. A. Brigade ; 
 They bastardize the laws of God through valley, hill 
 
 and glade, 
 And desecrate the name of him, the bravest of the 
 
 brave, 
 Who fought to give them freedom and fills a freeman's 
 
 grave. 
 His memory we all cherish, and his name will never 
 
 die. 
 And if he were alive to-day a Papist could apply. 
 
 When our President to John Bull sent word the other 
 
 day, 
 "Hands off Venezuela, I command you right away !" 
 'Twas then the Papists' blood arose and pulses beat 
 
 with joy, 
 As did their famed forefathers in France at Fontenoy. 
 Those A. P. x\.'s to cellars crawled and then did cry, 
 "We will not fight 'gainst England — let the Papists 
 
 now apply." 
 
 The vermin of the Orange race now trying to sow the 
 
 seed 
 Of discord and proscription will never here succeed. 
 
174 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 This is the land of Washington, we glory in the same, 
 And every heart "beats high with pride" to hear that 
 
 hero's name. 
 While the beacon star of liberty shines brightly from 
 
 on high, 
 We'll show the Tory A. P. A. that Papists can apply. 
 
 Phil. Sheridan, the war horse, well known both far and 
 
 wide, 
 And every schoolboy in this land has read his famous 
 
 ride; 
 He fought to free the colored man and give him liberty, 
 He placed his trust in God above and knew no bigotry. 
 No slave was he to race or creed, "Susannah, don't you 
 
 cry," 
 We set you free in sixty-three, for Papists did apply. 
 
 And when in old Virginia the Southerners showed their 
 
 might, 
 Meagher brave and Corcoran were foremost in the 
 
 fight. 
 They fought them in the Wildnerness with ready blade 
 
 and ball. 
 And many a gallant Southerner before their charge did 
 
 fall. 
 Though born in old Ireland, "Faugh-a-Ballah" they did 
 
 cry. 
 We'll show you fight both day and night, for Papists 
 
 can apply. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 175 
 
 And should Columbia need again the men who fought 
 
 with Lee, 
 And those who followed Sherman ''from Atlanta to the 
 
 Sea," 
 The exiled sons of Erin, ah ! in battle proud array. 
 Will march again at beat of drum, all ready for the 
 
 fray ; 
 And when they see the Stars and Stripes — "Old Glory" 
 
 — they will cry : 
 "Charge, boys, and drive them back to hell ! We're 
 
 Papists — we apply." 
 
 A TRIBUTE TO TIMOTHY CADOGAN. 
 
 (Murdered by a Perjured Judge and Jury on January 
 II, 1901, in the City of Cork.) 
 
 Tim Cadogan was a farmer's son, his lawful debts he 
 paid, 
 
 Of landlord or of bailiff he never was afraid. 
 
 No Bird, nor crow, nor magpie, his spirit proud could 
 tam.e, 
 
 A rough and rugged son of toil from Kerry hills he 
 came. 
 
 One day he went to Bantry town, 'twas in the after- 
 noon. 
 
 As he had often done before in winter time and June. 
 
 A Bird was winged that morning, a minion of the 
 Crown, 
 
 No loss was he to Bantry nor any other town. 
 
176 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Chorus. 
 The jury found him guilty one bleak December day, 
 And the judge made up his mind to take his life away. 
 He was murdered in old Ireland, far across the sea, 
 One thousand men like Cadogan would set old Ireland 
 free. 
 
 The bloodhounds and informers bafifled and at sea, 
 Hounded gallant Cadogan, which proved his destiny. 
 The Peelers in pursuit of him, no evidence could find, 
 .Through treachery they did conspire to gain that hero's 
 
 mind. 
 When they took him to prison, no danger did he fear, 
 He knew that he was innocent, this gallant moun- 
 taineer. 
 The jury thought the same of him and some decreed 
 
 it so, 
 Despite the perjured evidence of Dennis and Duclo. 
 
 [Chorus. 
 
 Another trial, the jury packed, the spawn of Cromwell's 
 
 breed, 
 To hang the gallant farmer's son at last they did 
 
 succeed. 
 The jury found him guilty, the judge's charge was vile. 
 With gown and wig, a la Norbury, a native of the soil. 
 And now his spirit hovers from Cork to Bantry Bay, 
 For Duclo and Dennis both swore his life away. 
 When he received his sentence disappointment did 
 
 abound 
 Among his friends and countrymen, who gathered all 
 
 around. [Chorus. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 177 
 
 He faced the bars and prison walls like Emmet and 
 
 Wolfe Tone. 
 Defied the judge and jury packed, from him there was 
 
 no moan. 
 He knew that he'd be murdered as thousands were 
 
 before 
 By Norbury and Lord O'Brien throughout old Erin's 
 
 shore. 
 Though young in years his spirit proud, O'Brien could 
 
 not break. 
 He tried to cheat "Norbury" and his own life take. 
 He knew what Wolfe Tone did when in his youth 
 
 and prime, 
 And tried to do the same, he thought it was no crime. 
 
 [Chorus. 
 
 Long life to Paddy Meade, his name will never die, 
 The judge and jury in the court he bodly did defy. 
 He knew the trial v/ould be a farce presided by 
 
 O'Brien, 
 That Judas of the Irish race from Cork to Ballyline. 
 Gilhooly, Flynn and Barry tried with might and main 
 To save the life of Cadogan, their efforts were in vain. 
 The judge decreed that he should die a traitor to the 
 
 Crown, 
 No more to see his native hills, nor visit Bantry town. 
 
 [Chorus, 
 
 The names of Dennis and his gang are loathsome now 
 
 to hear. 
 They dare not visit Bantry, their hearts are full of fear. 
 
 13 
 
178 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 The grass they tread will wither and ne'er again will 
 
 grow, 
 When trampled by Iscariots like Dennis and Duclo. 
 Now like the owl that shuns the da}^ when darkness 
 
 is around 
 They crawl out of their hiding place, where reptiles 
 
 doth abound. 
 
 May Cadogan's spirit rest in peace on that bright 
 
 heavenly shore, 
 Before that court above the clouds where sorrow is no 
 
 more. 
 
 FITZHARRIS. 
 
 From out an English bastile, now haggard, old and 
 
 gray— 
 The bravest soul 'mong Irishmen has wended forth his 
 
 way. 
 No ball or chain or prison food his spirit proud could 
 
 tame, 
 An humble man, but true as steel, from Wicklow hills 
 
 he came. 
 When brutal British hirelings with gold to him were 
 
 sent — 
 To bribe him in his prison cage, they thought he would 
 
 repent. 
 
 "Go back," said he, "to Gladstone, and let it be to-day, 
 And tell him I would starve to death before I would 
 betray. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 179 
 
 I care not what the rest have done, to Ireland I'll be 
 
 true — • 
 And would not tell the name of one, if all of them I 
 
 knew; 
 Inside these dismal prison walls for life I will remain 
 Before you will find out from me by whom these men 
 
 were slain." 
 
 Through bolts and bars and prison walls defiantly he 
 
 cried — 
 "No gold for me through treachery, your worst is now 
 
 defied. 
 You say the rest have proven false — go back and to 
 
 them tell 
 Fitzharris' heart could not be changed, though in a prison 
 
 cell 
 It may be years, it may be death, to comrades I'll be 
 
 true, 
 Dan Curly and Joe Brady, and the gallant Fagan, too. 
 
 "Though sad it is to part with wife, with friends and 
 
 children dear, 
 Within these dark and gloomy walls no one to give me 
 
 cheer — 
 I'd rather die a martyr's death," defiantly his mien, 
 "Than for all the gold in England be a traitor to the 
 
 green." 
 Thus spoke an humble cabman from out his prison cage, 
 To the castle-hacks of Dublin, which put them in a rage. 
 
180 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Awaiting trial, this hero lay, within the filthy jail, 
 Inducements great were offered him, but all of no avail — 
 *T'll give you twenty thousand pounds," the Gladstone 
 
 spy did say; 
 ''And our great Queen's protection from Dublin to 
 
 Bombay." 
 "I spurn your golden offer — go find some English bloat, 
 I'd rather die a pauper first," said gallant "Skin the 
 
 Goat." 
 
 The jury packed within the court, agreed that he should 
 
 go, 
 From Liffy's Strand and Wicklow Glens; the judge 
 
 decreed it so. 
 His sentence he received as cool as Emmet or Wolfe 
 
 Tone — 
 And stood before the English judge, like monument of 
 
 stone ; 
 That day in Dublin Court House they sentenced him 
 
 for life; 
 A gallant man he still remains through every storm and 
 
 strife. 
 
 And after seventeen weary years, from out a living hell, 
 He comes among us once again, his ''prison life" to tell. 
 And though old age is setting in, in his declining years 
 He'd face the music once again, with trusty volunteers. 
 A man may often wear a tattered hat and ragged coat 
 And still be true to Fatherland, like gallant "Skin the 
 Goat." 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 181 
 
 KRUGER'S ENEMY. 
 
 The demon of all nations, the hypocrite of creeds, 
 With the Bible on her lips, with the devil in her deeds, 
 With Lyddite fire, with poisoned lead, with bullets of 
 
 dum-dum ; 
 Now plays her pranks in Africa to make the Boer suc- 
 cumb. 
 Not long ago the Sepoys, from the cannon's mouth she 
 
 blew, 
 And smoked to death were Zulus, in the caves to which 
 they flew. 
 
 Since the days of all the Henrys, and all the Georges, 
 
 too. 
 She has ravaged, plundered, murdered, in order to 
 
 subdue ; 
 Murdered Irish mothers — murdered their babes unborn; 
 From kings entombed in foreign lands, their buried 
 
 jewels were torn. 
 Where e'er she got a foothold, she got it by the sword, 
 Regardless of all blood she shed, she cared but for the 
 
 gold. 
 
 She tried her hand at grabbing in Boston years ago, 
 When by stout hands her merchandise into the sea 
 
 did go; 
 But the stalwart sons of Vermont whose war-whoop 
 
 pealed aloud. 
 Supported by New Hampshire, defiantly and proud, 
 
182 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Rushed to the camp of Washington with ready blade 
 
 and ball, 
 And many a British buccaneer at Bunker Hill did fall. 
 
 Then England got some lessons what Americans could do 
 From O'Briens and O'SuUivans, with Yankee ships and 
 
 crew ; 
 She depended on her army to pillage, rob and loot. 
 And thought she could control the coast from Boston to 
 
 Duluth; 
 How the "Margarette" was captured is .needless now 
 
 to tell; 
 By O'Brien and his seven sons the flag of England fell. 
 
 Her rapine and her butchery no more we tolerate. 
 The doers of such cursed deeds we will exterminate, 
 Throughout the land of Washington no refuge can they 
 
 seek ; 
 They came to Christianize us, with whispers low and 
 
 meek, 
 And then destroyed our commerce, for which they 
 
 dearly paid — 
 Some fifteen million dollars was the bargain that they 
 
 made. 
 
 Of late, they've gone to Africa to crush the gallant Boer, 
 With gattling gun and cannon their battery loud did 
 
 roar. 
 But Joubert met them face to face and fought them man 
 
 to ma,n. 
 Till blood and brains flew o'er the plains, with Kruger 
 
 in the van. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 183 
 
 Each Fusilier and Glostershire will nevermore forget 
 The blows dealt out by Kruger's men — they're thinking 
 of them yet. 
 
 O, -Blessed God ! may your right hand the gallant Boer 
 
 defend, 
 And strengthen him with heavenly aid the Saxon's head 
 
 to bend, 
 With shrapnell, shot and bullets, till none are left to tell 
 How Coldstream Guards and Queen's Blackguards be- 
 fore the Burghers fell ; 
 May every red-coat ranger and foolish Fusilier 
 Get little rest by day or night from Kruger Musketeer. 
 
 Oh, what a gallant onward charge the Boers made that 
 
 day. 
 Laying low both officers and men — before they ran away. 
 One thousand in the trenches, dying and maimed did 
 
 groan, 
 All wishing they had never left their far off English 
 
 home ; 
 Thus, England got a lesson she never got before, 
 Since the days of Balaklava ; God bless the valiant Boer ! 
 
 Defenseless babes and mothers, in Wyoming Valley lay. 
 
 Slain by English savages at early dawn of day. 
 
 While the fathers and the husbands were responding to 
 
 the call 
 To fight for country's liberty, their sacred homes and all ; 
 Thus did British "civilizers" the babes and mothers slay : 
 With no one to defend them, their life's blood ebbed 
 
 awav. 
 
184 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 And this happened in America some hundred- years ago, 
 'Tis in our school-books, history, to let our children know 
 How foully England murdered the matron, child and 
 
 maid; 
 And paid the Indians for the scalps ; and missionaries 
 
 paid 
 For founding smallpox hospitals, to propagate disease — 
 AMiat wonder that, for England's fall we'd pray on 
 
 bended knees? 
 
 A foul disease to scatter — when war's resources failed — 
 To cause an epidemic in George Washington's Brigade; 
 It's writ in Stewart's History of Revolution times, 
 In chapter four, page sixty-two, you'll find the very lines ; 
 And later still, in Washington the Capitol she burned, 
 And burned Staten Island — humanity she spurned. 
 
 She thought she was in India, or out in the Soudan, 
 Or fighting against savages with Kitchener in the van ; 
 This time she met her \\'aterloo by bullets of the Boer, 
 AATio scattered all her "Tommy" boys, and left some in 
 
 their gore; 
 The Fusiliers and Grenadiers now wish they were at 
 
 home 
 In Spitalfields and Fordham's Flat, no mote inclined 
 
 to roam. 
 
 Xow the Bully of all Nations her colors must pull down, 
 Oom Paul will rule in Africa despite the English Crown. 
 The Red Cross and the Shamrock entwined henceforth 
 
 will be, 
 With gallant Blake and Joubert in fight for liberty ; 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 185 
 
 And Lady Gonne, that lady who kept Irish youths away 
 From enlisting in a robber's cause, from Cork to Dublin 
 Bay. 
 
 Now England seeks America, with bribery in hand, 
 To form an alliance with so-called ''^Mother Land." 
 She has no friends in Europe, where her deeds are too 
 
 well known ; 
 Russia, France and Germany, her friendship all disown. 
 
 Long life to ]\Irs. Belmont, and noble Helen Gould, 
 As thorough-bred Americans their names must be en- 
 rolled. 
 They showed they were no toadies, but women true and 
 
 brave. 
 Who willingly would give their lives, our starry flag to 
 
 save ; 
 Their names will live in history for many years to come, 
 Their first thought was xAmerica, and charity at home. 
 
 LEAVING HOME, AUGUST, 1868. 
 
 Alas, alas, in foreign lands six thousand miles from home. 
 Thinking of my native hills in distant climes to roam, 
 I left your fertile plains, asthore, when I was young in 
 
 years ; 
 And when I kissed a mother dear, she wiped away her 
 
 tears — 
 I left her with a broken heart, was forced to go away ; 
 Heart and brain with care oppressed, I sailed from 
 
 Bantrv Bav. 
 
186 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 I left one Sunday morning, before the signal gun; 
 'Twas there my trials, troubles and sorrows had begun. 
 As I sailed out of the harbor, I whispered a farewell 
 To the sun-kissed hills and meadows green and daisies 
 
 in the dell ; 
 The little birds ne'er sang so sweet as they did on that 
 
 day, 
 When I left home and homeland and sailed from Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
 As I sailed in the little craft that took me out to sea, 
 'Twas then I prayed to God above my country to set 
 
 free; 
 There is no reason she should be in bondage all these 
 
 years. 
 Bleeding from her many wounds and shedding bitter 
 
 tears ; 
 She is as fair as other lands, and trying night and day 
 To raise the Green above the Red in dear old Bantry Bay. 
 
 Although out in the Great Far West, with plenty all 
 
 around, 
 I'd rather live in Ireland, my own dear native ground. 
 'Tis true there's wealth galore and plenty always there, 
 But give to me old Erin's Isle, none with her can com- 
 pare. 
 I know her fields are fresh and green, though she in 
 
 bondage lay. 
 And that's the reason I left home and sailed from Bantry 
 
 Bav. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 187 
 
 As I roam these wild prairies and mountains of the West, 
 My thoughts fly o'er the billows to the land that I love 
 
 best. 
 Though oceans roll between us, you're ever dear to me, 
 I'll ne'er forget my native hills for any far country. 
 Your sons and daughters they are brave at home or 
 
 far away, 
 And always will be dear to me, far, far from Bantry Bay. 
 
 Why should the wandering Celt forget his home beyond 
 
 the sea. 
 The Lififey and Blackwater, the Shannon and the Lee, 
 Killarney and Glengariff, Avoca and Dunlow, 
 The Pass of Keimaneigh where yeomen were laid low? 
 These places are all dear to me, though very far away. 
 Yet still my heart flies back once more to dear old Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 
 A VISIT TO GLENGARIFF. 
 
 (August 17, 1902.) 
 
 In August last one summer's da}^ to the Glen my bark 
 
 did steer, 
 To view the fields and meads so green, no danger did I 
 
 fear. 
 With lightning speed O'Brien's steed that day flew like 
 
 the wind; 
 Each bike and horse and gallowglass he left them far 
 
 behind. 
 
188 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Comohola's hills and Newton, too, looked beautiful 
 
 that day ; 
 The lads and lassies gaily decked as we left Bantry 
 
 Bay. 
 Miss Murphy was the village queen and stately did 
 
 appear. 
 As we drove through the village the people did her 
 
 cheer. 
 
 When we reached the village green the first thing met 
 my view 
 
 Were the boys and girls from Bantry — they were a 
 jolly crew. 
 
 They cycled from that ancient place that Sunday after- 
 noon, 
 
 And when the rain began to fall they waited for the 
 moon ; 
 
 It came just like an avalanche and flooded glen and 
 vale. 
 
 That summer's day I'll ne'er forget in dear old Innisfail. 
 
 Now as we start for Bantry, with its madly flowing 
 " tide, 
 
 The subject of my ditty was sitting by my side. 
 
 She sweetly sang "Mavourneen" and "Suwanee River," 
 
 too, 
 "Must We Then Meet as Strangers ?"— "My Love, Will 
 
 You Be True?"— 
 Mavourneen delish Eileen oge, her voice rang through 
 
 the glen ; 
 
 She also sang the "Wexford Boys," "United Irishmen." 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 189 
 
 She is a charming Irish girl, graceful and serene, 
 A credit to old Erin's Isle, my native land so green. 
 Her sister and Miss Heffernan also sang that day. 
 And as they sang the valleys rang as we drove to the 
 Bay. 
 
 EASTER GREETINGS TO MY DEAR 
 CHILDREN. 
 
 Easter greetings to you all I waft across the breeze 
 To where mother's love and tender care their utmost 
 
 did to please. 
 How sad to think that she is gone, who watched you 
 
 carefully, 
 And spent two years ago to-day in this hotel with me. 
 Think of her in the morning, think of her night and 
 
 day, 
 The sweetest soul that ever lived from us has passed 
 
 away. 
 Her memory cherish dearly, of you she did take care ; 
 As pure as ever lived was she, an angel bright and fair. 
 My troubles I have borne through sunshine and 
 
 through strife. 
 Since God has taken her from me, a mother and a wife. 
 So children, dear, 1 beg of you, and this is all I crave, 
 To visit on next Easter Day your mother's lonely 
 
 grave. 
 
190 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 A VISIT TO MY SISTER'S GRAVE IN SAN 
 
 FRANCISCO, CAL., MARCH, 1902. 
 
 Silently I went along to where all seemed most serene, 
 A.nd the sun-kissed peaks and meadows with verdure 
 
 ever green. 
 All, all, was still within these walls where thousands 
 
 were at rest 
 Afar from home and motherland, out in the Golden 
 
 West. 
 My thoughts flew back to childhood days across the 
 
 ocean wide, 
 Where we spent many happy hours upon the green 
 
 hillside. 
 I thought of Erin's daughters whom England did 
 
 enslave 
 As I knelt by the Pacific, above my sister's grave. 
 
 On the shore of the Pacific she rests peacefully. 
 She left her home and country for a land of liberty. 
 Born beneath the English flag she scorned to live a 
 
 slave. 
 And left that home in tender years and crossed the 
 
 ocean wave. 
 'Twas sad to And her buried so far away from home, 
 But we are destined far and wide in foreign lands to 
 
 roam. 
 Grim death has taken her away, with husband true and 
 
 brave, 
 May peace be theirs for evermore is all that now I 
 
 crave. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 191 
 
 ON BOARD THE "MAINE." 
 
 'Twas evening; all was still as we at anchor lay, 
 
 With thoughts of wives and little ones, down in 
 Havana Bay. 
 
 The pilots with their little craft were waiting for the 
 dawn, 
 
 The mocking-birds were singing and the dew was on 
 the lawn, 
 
 The sons of toil had gone to rest in that isle of 
 golden sheen, 
 
 "All's well on board !" the watchman cried, while gaz- 
 ing on the scene. 
 
 Three hundred souls we had on board, no danger did 
 
 we fear, 
 AVith a captain brave and jolly crew, our gallant ship 
 
 to steer; 
 But what is that? Great God above! The noise 
 
 comes from below; 
 Our ship's in twain, our gallant "Maine," by Weyler's 
 
 torpedo. 
 Hush! Hush! the noise is o'er; see them struggling 
 
 with the tide. 
 "Jump in! Be quick! Save all you can," the gallant 
 
 Sigsbee cried. 
 
 My God! What have they done?' Behold this awful 
 
 wreck ! 
 Our comrades dead and dying and maimed upon the 
 
 deck. 
 
193 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Just see that headless body drifting with the tide, 
 Oh, would it were in battle that gallant hero died ! 
 Another with an arm gone is trying with might and 
 
 main 
 To save the comrade by his side who was by Weyler 
 
 slain. 
 
 Now Uncle Sam well knows the treachery of Spain, 
 And will avenge our comrades who perished in the 
 
 "Maine." 
 The mothers and the fathers, the wives and sisters, 
 
 too, 
 The brothers and the sweethearts of our noble tars so 
 
 true 
 Will see our starry banner o'er Cuba proudly wave, 
 Where the-heroes of our battleship their lives so freely 
 
 gave. 
 
 May our sailors brave now rest in peace, and remember, 
 
 one and all, 
 They died beneath that starry flag that never feared a 
 
 ball. 
 Our banner now doth proudly wave, assail it if you 
 
 dare. 
 You cowardly dogs, now bite the dust for war we will 
 
 declare. 
 United now throughout the land our battle cry shall be, 
 ''Avenge the 'Maine' in war with Spain, then Cuba 
 
 shall be free." 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 193 
 
 DEWEY, THE HERO. 
 
 After ploughing the raging billows, through spume and 
 
 spray, 
 The Hero of Manila is now anchored in the bay. 
 He's the sailor of America, and Dewey is his name. 
 Bronzed and rugged from the sea, from Vermont hills 
 
 he came. 
 He entered old Manila with quick-firing gun and ball, 
 And many a Spanish sailor at his command did fall. 
 
 'Neath the starry flag of Washington he comes here 
 
 once again. 
 After freeing the Filipinos from the cruel yoke of 
 
 Spain. 
 No Kaiser, Bear or Bull would dare Old Glory now 
 
 assail. 
 With Yankee tars true to our stars, and sons, too, of 
 
 the Gael, 
 Our sailors fought for liberty and kept the Dons at 
 
 bay; 
 With Dewey, Schley and Hobson foremost in the fray. 
 
 Schley and Dewey are the men whose victories on the 
 
 sea. 
 In Asia and America have set the people free. 
 They showed the Spanish navy what Americans could 
 
 do. 
 They know we are not afraid of any foreign crew ; 
 They also know our gunners never miss the mark, 
 Whether firing at a man-o'-war, a brigantine or bark, 
 
 13 
 
194 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Long life to Admiral Dewey, recorded let it be, 
 Columbia's noblest emblem, the banner of the free, 
 Without a stain he brought it back and proudly it doth 
 
 wave 
 O'er the deck of the ''Olympia" and gallant crew so 
 
 brave. 
 With a soldier in the White House no power on earth 
 
 now dare 
 Trifle with Old Glory or with that flag compare. 
 
 LADY MAJORIE HOWARD. 
 
 Have you heard of Lady Howard, so handsome, 
 
 straight and tall, 
 A credit to her native isle, admired by one and all? 
 She'^ not like some poor toady who pulled our colors 
 
 down 
 When he saw Erin's emblem, the Harp without the 
 
 Crown. 
 No slave is she to royalty or England's King or Queen, 
 Old Ireland should be proud of her, she dearly loves 
 
 the green. 
 Her heart is full of charity the people know right well ; 
 The poor and needy call on her and praises of her tell. 
 
 How stately she appears each day with raiment rich 
 
 and rare. 
 There is no lady in the land with Marjorie can compare. 
 Her hair is of the golden sheen, her eyes of azure blue. 
 Her carriage grand, her voice sublime, her lips of 
 
 purest hue. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 195 
 
 Her name is heard both far and wide, each time in 
 
 merited praise, 
 Whene'er she walks through mead or park the people 
 
 at her gaze ; 
 They know of her good qualities, the truth to you Til 
 
 tell, 
 The subject of m_v ditty owns the Kenwood House 
 
 Hotel. 
 
 You'll find folk there from Germany, from France ana 
 
 sunny Spain, 
 From the golden West, Chicago, too, and from the 
 
 coast of Maine ; 
 The hostess greets them one and all, she knows no 
 
 sect or clan. 
 But treats them all with courtesy, that motto is her 
 
 plan. 
 O'Connor from Chicago with smiles you will meet 
 
 there, 
 A hater of oppression, for he can do and dare. 
 His charming wife and daughter, like Maurice, love the 
 
 green. 
 They have no use for dukes or knights, nor any king 
 
 or queen. 
 
 Long life to Lady Howard and her lovely family. 
 May they live to comb gray locks and see old Ireland 
 
 free; 
 May her troubles all be very small, morning, noon and 
 
 night, 
 And may her children comfort her, her joy and heart's 
 
 delight. 
 
196 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Her name should be recorded among the brave and 
 
 true, 
 For she has shown America what womankind can do. 
 May her days be spent in happiness wherever she may 
 
 dwell, 
 In marble halls or palace walls or Kenwood House 
 
 Hotel. 
 
 BABY GENEVIEVE. 
 
 Away down in old V^irginia, where the darkey loves to 
 
 dwell, 
 My thoughts are all of Genevieve, the child I love so 
 
 well. 
 When I go home at night she meets me at the door, 
 And runs to kiss me with the love her mother gave 
 
 before. 
 Her mother's looks and smiling face in her I can 
 
 perceive, 
 Whene'er I gaze upon the face of Baby Genevieve. 
 
 With a heart that's almost broken, I'll bear it for her 
 
 sake, 
 For she is with the angels since her God from me did 
 
 take — 
 My love and pride and heart's delight of happy days 
 
 gone by. 
 For Death's dark mantle wrapped her round and took 
 
 away my joy. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 197 
 
 But when I see my baby's face, this heart it doth re- 
 lieve, 
 
 For mother's looks were just the same as those of 
 Genevieve. 
 
 Oh, baby, dear, how hard it was when mamma passed 
 
 away. 
 And with the last fond look she gave this to me did say : 
 "Take care of Baby Genevieve, she is our youngest 
 
 child, 
 And God will help you through life's ways" — she spoke 
 
 so sweet and mild. 
 Your mother's words I think of now, and joyfully I 
 
 perceive 
 Her handsome face and hazel eyes in Baby Genevieve. 
 
 ON BOARD THE "ALAMEDA." 
 
 (Sung by the Royal Quintette Club, of Honolulu. 
 
 Tune : "The Good Old Summer Time.") 
 Once more beneath our starry flag, the emblem of the 
 
 free, 
 We're leaving Honolulu to cross the deep blue sea ; 
 Here's to our gallant captain, who takes us through 
 
 the main ; 
 On board the "Alameda" we're homeward bound again. 
 We're homeward bound ! We're homeward bound ! 
 
 We're homeward bound again, 
 On board the "Alameda" we're homeward bound 
 again. 
 
198 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 And when we reach the Golden Gate in San Francisco 
 
 Bay, 
 We'll welcomed be in that city by lads and lassies gay; 
 They're waiting for our little craft, also her gallant 
 
 crew, 
 Who take delight both day and night to see us safely 
 
 through. 
 
 We're homeward bound ! We're homeward bound ! 
 
 We're homeward bound again. 
 On board the "A^lameda" we're homeward bound 
 
 again. 
 
 And now upon the boundless deep no danger do we 
 
 fear, 
 In God so just we place our trust for all to us so dear. 
 Blow on, ye gentle breezes, blow, and drive our bark 
 
 toward home ; 
 Despite the wars in foreign lands, in safety we may 
 
 roam. 
 With a captain brave and a jolly crew who takes us 
 
 through the main. 
 On board the ''Alameda" we're homeward bound again. 
 
 We're homew^ard bound ! We're homeward bound ! 
 
 We're homeward bound again. 
 On board the "Alameda" we're homeward bound 
 
 again. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 199 
 
 ON BOARD THE "MAJESTIC." 
 
 Farewell, farewell, asthore machree, we ne'er may see 
 
 you more, 
 For we are leaving you behind for fair Columbia's 
 
 shore. 
 The hirelings of an alien race have forced us from our 
 
 home, 
 And we must leave our kith and kin in foreign lands 
 
 to roam. 
 The baihffs and the landlords, a curse to Erin's Isle, 
 Have caused the children of the Gael to leave their 
 
 native soil ; 
 But though I leave you far behind, you're ever dear 
 
 to me, 
 And from the bounding billows I bid farewell to thee. 
 
 Another glimpse I take of you and it may be the last, 
 The happy days I spent with you remind me of the 
 
 past. 
 And though I leave your fertile shore in other lands 
 
 to dwell. 
 While life is left I'll ne'er forget the hours spent in the 
 
 dell; 
 Your shady groves and valleys, old Ireland's joy and 
 
 pride, 
 Shall ne'er forgotten be by me, though salt seas may 
 
 divide. 
 I know your sons are good and true, your daughters 
 
 pure and brave. 
 But foul oppression forces them to cross the ocean 
 
 wave. 
 
200 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Farewell, farewell, once more, asthore, oh, may you 
 
 yet be free, 
 Though Columbia must be our home, that land of 
 
 liberty ; 
 We'll ne'er forget our motherland, her valleys and her 
 
 hills. 
 Or the robbers and marauders, the cause of all her ills ; 
 We seek the land of Washington, the best across the 
 
 main. 
 And will comply with all her laws where freedom we'll 
 
 obtain. 
 The rich and poor are equal there, a man's a man 
 
 alway, 
 "Farewell, farewell, my native land," to you once more 
 
 I say. 
 
 SISTERS TWO. 
 
 I met two sisters, young in years, 
 
 Not many months ago, 
 One had been across the sea 
 
 The other soon to go. 
 They were born in old Ireland, 
 
 A place you all know well. 
 And lately left their native home 
 
 In foreign lands to dwell. 
 Their eyes are of the azure blue. 
 
 None with them can compare. 
 Bereft of mother in their teens 
 
 When they were free from care. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 201 
 
 The one left home when scarce fourteen 
 
 The other then a child, 
 Now they're tall and handsome 
 
 With spirits undefiled. 
 
 That they're a credit to their native land 
 
 I gladly ween. 
 How stately they appeared to me 
 
 When on the village green. 
 I saw them at the pattern, 
 
 I saw them at the fair, 
 I saw them on the mainland 
 
 Prepared to do and dare. 
 'Tis sad to think that those bright eyes 
 
 W^ere forced to cross the sea 
 And leave their childhood's happy home 
 
 Through Saxon tyranny. 
 To see these pretty Irish girls 
 
 'Twas indeed a prize, 
 With their silken hair, rosy cheeks and 
 
 Expressive, bright blue eyes. 
 
 When I think of these sisters 
 
 It makes my heart feel sore, 
 They ne'er appeared so sweet to me 
 
 As they did at old Dromore. 
 That was their dear native soil, 
 
 In happy youth they played 
 Till they were forced to cross the deep 
 
 By laws the vSaxon made. 
 
202 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Their father is an Irishman, 
 
 Respected far and near, 
 And should a call to arms come 
 
 Would gladly volunteer 
 To strike for home and motherland 
 
 Which Nellie and Mary 
 Were forced to leave with heav}^ hearts 
 
 And cross the deep blue sea. 
 
 A VISIT TO A DEAR FRIEND'S GRAVE IN SAN 
 
 FRANCISCO. 
 
 Note — Written for a lad3r whom the writer beheld kneeling over the 
 grave of her mother. San Francisco, July 1904. 
 
 She's resting on the hillside, the dearest one to me, 
 And sleeps her sweetest sleep in yonder cemetery. 
 Fond memories of childhood days I now recall to mind ; 
 Love like hers I know full well I ne'er again shall find. 
 She's gone to join the angels, her life to God she gave ; 
 My only consolation is to strew with flowers her grave. 
 
 Oh ! mother, how I miss you no tongue but mine can 
 
 tell, 
 For you were all on earth to me and in my heart still 
 
 dwell. 
 You nursed me with your tender care, with kisses soft 
 
 and sweet, 
 No more will you caress me, we ne'er again shall meet, 
 Except at that Celestial Throne where angels for us 
 
 crave, 
 My only consolation is my darling mother's grave. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 203 
 
 TOM'S WEDDING. 
 
 Welcome to the golden West from your childhood's 
 
 happy home, 
 A mother's pride and heart's delight — no matter where 
 
 you roam. 
 A father's love he gave to you when in your tender 
 
 years, 
 And now you miss their loving kiss which would allay 
 
 yours fears. 
 Although you are a happy bride your thoughts will 
 
 wander there, 
 Those hours you spent in infancy when free from every 
 
 care. 
 Your heart and hand you gave to one to cherish you 
 
 through life; 
 He'll stick to you through weal or woe since you've 
 
 become his wife. 
 
 All hands around this festive board stand up and drink 
 
 with me. 
 Long life to bride and bridegroom, too, is the toast we 
 
 drink to thee. 
 May every joy and happiness this world can unfold 
 Be always found within this home and heaps of love 
 
 untold. 
 And though far from your native place where you first 
 
 saw the light, 
 And words of love were spoken which vou to him did 
 
 plight, 
 
204 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 The memory of the courting days must not be cast 
 
 aside 
 Since you've become the wife of Tom, his comfort and 
 
 his pride. 
 
 And when the cradle comes around, as come I hope it 
 
 will, 
 If one won't do, there may be two to help that cradle 
 
 fill. 
 It's nice to be a father, and Tom will often say, 
 "Rock-a-bye, my baby," singing sweetest lay, 
 "Since you have come to gladden us our home is now 
 
 complete. 
 With kisses and caresses we always will you greet. 
 Cead mille failtha once again I bid you welcome here, 
 I know full well that vou will be both faithful and 
 
 sincere." 
 
 Now boys and girls a warning take and listen unto me. 
 
 Be sure to marry one you love or live in misery. 
 
 Just think of what you saw to-night, a groom and 
 
 happy bride, 
 A model for all youthful souls, his darling and his 
 
 pride; 
 Modesty is pictured in her sweet, angelic face, 
 I hope no other human being will ever take her place. 
 And what of him? He's youthful, too, with manliness 
 
 galore, 
 He will be true to eyes of blue and keep wolf from the 
 
 door. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 205 
 
 The next will be the wooden one, I mean the wooden 
 
 wedding, 
 May peace and happiness be every hour yours until the 
 
 time that's pending. 
 Then comes the tin. May babies bright bring smiles 
 
 to you galore ; 
 And when the crystal comes around may there be half 
 
 a score. 
 The silver, I sincerely hope, will find you just the 
 
 same — 
 Two loving hearts that beat as true as when the 
 
 wooden came. 
 And when the golden comes around, and come I hope 
 
 it may, 
 May every guest that's here to-night be here on that 
 
 same day. 
 
 And now before we leave this house, all you that are 
 
 yet free, 
 I hope when next we meet again that married you 
 
 will be, 
 And settle down for love alone whene'er you hitch for 
 
 life. 
 'Twill carry you this world through, the struggle and 
 
 the strife ; 
 So wed for love, and not for gold, if you take my 
 
 advice. 
 A happy home and loving heart — for gold they will suffice. 
 Now comes the hour when we must part, but in our 
 
 hearts will dwell 
 The pleasant hours we spent with you, God bless you 
 
 both, farewell. 
 
206 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Now one word more about the bride before I end my 
 
 theme : 
 She comes from good old Irish stock, no wonder she's 
 
 a dream. 
 Her father I have i<nown for years, to home and home- 
 land true, 
 Her mother is a faithful wife and loving mother, too ; 
 Though born 'neath the starry flag on fair Columbia's 
 
 shore, 
 Next to the Stripes the Shamrock comes, now and for 
 
 evermore. 
 She saw old Erin in her tears by English hirelings 
 
 made, 
 The roof tree often in a blaze by England's vile 
 
 brigade. 
 
 And now a last word before we part from round this 
 
 festive board : 
 We care not for a king or queen or •. ny monarch horde. 
 We love the emblem of the free, none with it can 
 
 compare, 
 And, if assailed by any power, then we will do and 
 
 dare. 
 " Hip ! Hip Hoorah ! by night and day, beneath it we will 
 
 stand. 
 So drink with me right heartily and toast your native 
 
 land. 
 She is the greatest on this earth and we will her 
 
 uphold, 
 We're not ashamed, won't be defamed her history to 
 
 unfold. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 207 
 
 IN ANSWER TO AN INVITATION TO FATHER 
 LYNCH'S SILVER JUBILEE. 
 
 (San Francisco, June, 190-i.) 
 
 To go see you I do incline, 
 
 E'en though buttermilk took place of wine. 
 
 If Pluto's angels were the guests 
 
 I would go there to hear their jests. 
 
 A soggarth you are of the few 
 
 To faith and homeland always true, 
 
 And should the Apes your church assail 
 
 They'll know you came from Innisfail ; 
 
 A patriot, priest and soldier, too. 
 
 To Stars and Stripes you would be true. 
 
 And should a call come o'er the sea 
 
 To strike for Irish liberty 
 
 You would be foremost in the fray, 
 
 Like Ennnet was in Dublin Bay. 
 
 I'm glad you live to celebrate 
 
 Your Jubilee in Golden Gate. 
 
 Beneath that emblem of the free — 
 
 That glorious flag of liberty. 
 
 And when to-morrow you will pray, 
 
 Think well of those who are far away ; 
 
 And pray for them to crush the foe 
 
 And break the chains that bind them low. 
 
 To commemorate your Jubilee, this line 
 
 From ''Rocky Mountain" Pat O'Brien. 
 
208 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 A "SIBERIA" POEM. 
 
 (A trip to Honolulu on the S.S. "Siberia," J. T. Smith 
 in command, January ii, 1904.) 
 
 On board the ship "Siberia" we ploughed the raging 
 main. 
 
 The ladies did their very best all hands to entertain. 
 
 Mrs. Macintosh looked stately, with her winsome, win- 
 ning ways 
 
 She sang and played last evening with electric lights 
 ablaze. 
 
 And Mrs. Holmes and Miss Grozelier, commanding was 
 their mien. 
 
 You'll meet them in the dining-room with smiles for all 
 I ween. 
 
 Next we see bold Brewster upon the promenade. 
 
 With a lady on his arm, he renders her his aid. 
 
 Next upon my threshold Parker Lyon doth appear, 
 With O'Shaughnessy and Lewis and genial Judge Gear; 
 Jermyn of the Chicago fire, who barely saved his life, 
 Smith was his companion in the struggle and the strife. 
 Cunningham came from Salt Lake, a handsome-looking 
 
 man. 
 He is going to Flonolulu or maybe to Japan ; 
 And now there is a youthful face distinguished far and 
 
 wide. 
 His name resounds throughout the land from dawn to 
 
 eventide. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 209 
 
 Some call him Mr. London, but he likes the name of 
 
 Jack, 
 He's going to see Mikado at the Russian have a whack ; 
 He represents this nation at home or anywhere, 
 There are no papers on this earth with his can compare. 
 And when he goes to Washington as secretary to Hearst, 
 To break the combination of the railroad and the trust. 
 He'll treat the Jew and Gentile and the heathen just 
 
 the same, 
 He's a credit to America, that man of noble fame. 
 
 There was a lady came aboard, and came quite unaware, 
 She came on board our gallant ship no clothes had she 
 
 to wear. 
 But she has gladdened mother's heart and faithful 
 
 father's, too. 
 She first saw light beneath that flag, our own red, white 
 
 and blue. 
 Oh ! welcome, baby darling, and may your Hfe be long, 
 We'll toast you in the banquet hall and sing of you in 
 
 song, 
 And now you're added to our list, though born upon 
 
 the sea. 
 That you may live to comb gray hairs are my cherished 
 hopes for thee. 
 
 Success attend our captain, and Francis Leonard, too, 
 The purser, freight clerk, engineer and all his gallant 
 crew. 
 
 H 
 
210 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 They're a credit to the company, a kind word have for 
 
 all, 
 And should you need them day or night they're always 
 
 at your call. 
 Now we're bound for Honolulu on fair Columbia's 
 
 shore. 
 The Stars and Stripes are floating there and will for 
 
 evermore. 
 Judge Gear is at the helm with Roosevelt in the van. 
 We place our trust in God above, that motto is our 
 
 plan. 
 
 HAWAII. 
 
 In an island in the South Seas far, far away from home, 
 In solitude I wander there, my thoughts across the 
 
 the foam ; 
 "Tis now I think of days gone by and scattered far and 
 
 wide 
 The little ones so dear to me, a mother's joy and pride. 
 But soon my bark for home I'll steer across the ocean 
 
 blue, 
 And say to famed Hawaii, ''To you I bid adieu." 
 So here's to home and homeland across the deep blue 
 
 sea, 
 I wonder are there any there who still remember me. 
 
 How often in these distant isles, no tongue but mine 
 
 can tell. 
 The scenes I witnessed day by day all others do excel : 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 211 
 
 The warning of the craters and ebbing of the tide, 
 The snow upon the mountain peaks and lava flow beside. 
 The cave down in the valley spontaneously doth grow, 
 With eruptions of volcanoes their craters all aglow. 
 So here's to home and homeland far, far across the 
 
 main, 
 I wonder will they know me there when I return again. 
 
 Though I have been in foreign climes and distant lands 
 
 galore. 
 There's no place I love half so well as poor old Erin's 
 
 shore ; 
 Her daughters are the purest that e'er the sun shone on, 
 Her sons are brave through every war, deny it if you 
 
 can. 
 And though they're scattered far and wide, just at the 
 
 bugle's call 
 They'll rally round our flag of green with ready blade 
 
 and ball. 
 Once more our gallant craft is ploughing through the 
 
 main, 
 I wonder will they know me when I return again. 
 
 To strike for home and homeland our sacred rights to gain. 
 United now to face the foe on land or on the main. 
 Too long we're slaves to English rule, her tyranny and 
 
 reign. 
 The hour has come to strike at last, our rights we must 
 
 obtain. 
 
212 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 I wonder would they know me now dressed in Irish green, 
 Side by side with Wycherley in dear old Skibbereen, 
 We'll raise aloft that green old flag, our colors we'll 
 
 display, 
 And chase the Saxon from Dundalk to ''Famed Old 
 
 Bantry Bay." 
 
 ROCKY'S BEREAVEMENT. 
 
 (Lines written on the death of Margaret A., wife of 
 Patrick ''Rocky Mountain" O'Brien.) 
 
 BY MARY J. o'dONOVAN ROSSA. 
 
 Twenty golden years of love, 
 
 And then a night of woe ! 
 When truest heart from fondest heart, 
 
 Reluctantly must go. 
 And round her couch a weeping band, 
 Eight children and their father, stand 
 
 To kiss her lips of snow. 
 
 "Now mourn me not as lost," she said, 
 
 "I only go before, 
 To wait where friendship never parts — 
 To wait and watch for you, dear hearts, 
 
 On heaven's happy shore ! 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 213 
 
 "And build no monumental stone, 
 
 Nor darkly drape my bed, 
 But lay me down in robes of white, 
 With bloom of flowers and sunshine bright. 
 
 And waving grass o'erhead ! 
 
 "Thy Kingdom come ! Thy will be done \" 
 
 She sighed with failing breath. 
 A lovely woman fair of face, 
 A Christian woman strong in grace, 
 
 And not afraid of death. 
 
 The pivot of a household's love, 
 
 Her children's joy and guide ; 
 Core of her husband-lover's heart, 
 
 His comfort and his pride ; 
 The flower and bloom of womanhood. 
 
 As mother, maid or wife. 
 Sighed out her fragrant spirit there. 
 
 And closed her eyes on life. 
 
 Her aged father weeps with cause 
 
 Above her silent face ; 
 The apple of his eye she was. 
 
 And none may take her place. 
 Her sobbing sisters droop around 
 
 With anguish in their mien. 
 While far and near, and thronging come 
 
 The grieving friends and kin. 
 
214 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Three days and three nights, 
 Amid flowers and Hghts, 
 
 And prayers and rainfall of tears, 
 In a sumptuous casket of silver and mauve, 
 Attired as a bride, in a miniature grove 
 Of palms, she was waked by her love. 
 
 And the friends and acquaintance of years. 
 
 Three days and three nights ! and then 
 The last leave-takings of death begin. 
 'Mid the frantic grief of friends and kin 
 Her placid features are prisoned in. 
 And the casket raised on the arms of men 
 Who would die to lift her to life again. 
 
 Oh ! the heart-breaking moment for sorrowful friends 
 
 As the cortege was formed in the porch, 
 And the quick and the dead in solemnity wed 
 
 Re-entered the doors of the church. 
 A pause ! and a doubt ! Did his courage give out? 
 
 Where is Rocky ? Not missing — no, never ! 
 Noble, reverent, grave. 
 Handsome, open-browed, brave. 
 
 He will honor his "Maggie" forever. 
 
 No weakling in sorrow, but stalwart and proud 
 
 He followed his love on her way. 
 Till nearing the altar, where lowly he bowed. 
 
 And gave back to heaven the blest clay. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 215 
 
 Then the Mass was intoned, 
 
 And the sacrifice made, 
 And we felt that to Godhead enthroned 
 
 The angels her spirit conveyed. 
 
 Her body lies in sacred ground in Calvary to-daV; 
 
 And as she wished, the sunshine gilds 
 Her quiet bed of clay ; 
 
 While, tented o'er from wintry blast 
 By wealth of hothouse flowers, 
 
 The young grass cradles on her breast 
 Awaiting summer showers. 
 
 Her memory lives within our hearts, 
 
 A precious thing, a balm ! 
 To strengthen and to edify. 
 
 To magnetize, to calm ! 
 For meditation subject sweet — 
 
 For emulation fit — 
 A blessed life, by Faith and Hope 
 
 And Love's pure sunshine lit. 
 
 
216 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 "ROCKY MOUNTAIN" 
 
 O'BRIEN'S BEREAVEMENT. 
 
 Mrs. Patrick A. O'Brien, wife of "Rocky Mountain" 
 O'Brien, the well-known Irish patriot, died yesterday 
 after a lingering illness at her home, 424 Hart street, 
 Brooklyn Borough. Mrs. O'Brien was a tall, fine-look- 
 ing woman, and was the mother of several children. 
 The funeral will take place on Wednesday at 10 A. M., 
 when a solemn mass of requiem will be celebrated at 
 the Church of St. John the Baptist, Willoughby and Lewis 
 avenues. — A^. Y. Daily News. 
 
 Mrs. Margaret A. O'Brien, wife of Patrick O'Brien, 
 who is well known all over the country as "Rocky 
 Mountain" O'Brien, died at her residence, 424 Hart 
 street, yesterday morning. Mrs. O'Brien was 38 years 
 of age and the mother of eight children, the youngest 
 but twenty months old. She has been married nearly 
 nineteen years, during all of which time she lived in 
 Brooklyn. Mrs. O'Brien was born in New York City, 
 where she was reared, and until a year ago was a mag- 
 nificent type of physical womanhood. She was a 
 w^oman of much personal popularity and of a lovable 
 disposition and will be mourned by a large circle of 
 personal friends. The funeral services will be held 
 Wednesday morning at 10 o'clock at the Church of St. 
 John the Baptist, corner of Lewis and Willoughby ave- 
 nues, and will be conducted by the Rev. Father Sulli- 
 van, pastor of the church. The interment will be in 
 Calvary Cemetery. Mr. O'Brien is a commercial 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 217 
 
 travt:ler, and has journeyed over this continent from 
 end to end. He also has a reputation as a poet 
 on poHtical and other subjects. His sobriquet of 
 "Rocky Mountain" O'Brien was fairl}^ earned during 
 several seasons spent in that superb range of hills, 
 where he is looked upon as a most intrepid hunter. 
 He is also prominently identified with several Irish so- 
 cieties. His wife and he were devotedly attached to 
 each other. — Brooklyn Times. 
 
 Mrs. Margaret O'Brien, wife of "Rocky Mountain" 
 O'Brien, who died at her residence, 424 Hart street, on 
 Sunday, was buried at 10 o'clock yesterday morning. 
 A requiem mass was celebrated by the pastor, the Rev. 
 Father Sullivan, of the Church of St. John the Baptist, 
 assisted by Father Higgins as deacon and Father 
 Leyden, sub-deacon. Within the chancel rail was the 
 Rev. Father Crowley, of St. Ambrose, who for many 
 years has been an intimate friend of the family. The 
 church was crowded and the floral offerings were many 
 and costly. The pall-bearers were Luke Dillon, the 
 celebrated Irish Nationalist, of Philadelphia; O'Dono- 
 van Rossa, Mayor Kenny, of Harrison, N. J. ; John Mc- 
 Cann, of Manhattan ; Louis Graf, George Molloy and 
 Frank X. McCaffrey. The funeral was one of the 
 largest that has taken place in the upper district in 
 some years. Two barouches carried the flowers. Irish 
 societies with which Mr. O'Brien has been identified 
 for many years were largely represented. The inter- 
 ment was in Calvary Cemetery. — Brooklyn Citizen, 
 
218 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Margaret O'Brien, wife of "Rocky Mountain" 
 O'Brien, who is famous in this country and in England as 
 an Irish revolutionist, died at her home, 424 Hart 
 street, Saturday, of acute gastritis, from which she suf- 
 fered intensely for weeks. Mrs. O'Brien was the 
 daughter of John Sullivan, for many years a prominent 
 resident of the Seventh Ward, Manhattan, and for the 
 past ten years equalty as well known in the Eighteenth 
 Ward of this borough. She was married to Patrick 
 O'Brien twenty years ago, and was the mother of 
 five boys and three girls, the eldest being 19 years and the 
 youngest but 20 months old. Mrs. O'Brien was a 
 grand type of physical womanhood and well endowed 
 mentally. She had a large circle of friends and her 
 neighbors showed their afifection by uniting to furnish 
 a floral tribute in her memory, to which about twenty 
 contributed, headed by Mrs. Charles Rothschild. Mrs. 
 O'Brien was but 38 years old, and was born in New 
 York, July 29, 1861. 
 
 Her husband, Patrick O'Brien, secured his sobriquet 
 "Rocky Mountain" because of his skill as a hunter in 
 the West and to distinguish him from the other 
 O'Briens who interested themselves with him in the 
 movement for Irish liberation twenty 3^ears ago. He 
 went to Pigeon Hill, in the invasion of Canada, under 
 Captain O'Neill, and associated with him were Denis 
 Short, Thomas Nolan and John Molloy, of this bor- 
 ough. Mr. O'Brien took an active part for Roosevelt 
 in the recent campaign. 
 
 The funeral of Mrs. O'Brien will be held to-morrow 
 morning at the Church of St. John the Baptist, corner 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 219 
 
 of Willoughby and Lewis avenues, at lO o'clock, when 
 a solemn mass will be sung. The pall-bearers will all 
 be prominent Irish Revolutionists, who knew Mrs. 
 O'Brien, as well as her husband, and will include Luke 
 Dillon, of Philadelphia; Jeremiah O'Donovan Rossa, 
 George Molloy, Mayor William Kenny, of Harrison, 
 N. J.; Louis Graf, Patrick Egan, ex-Minister to 
 ChiU, and Frank X. McCaftrey. 
 
 A great many letters and telegrams of condolence 
 have been received by Mr. O'Brien since his wife's 
 death, including one from Mrs. O'Donovan Rossa, who 
 was a life-long friend of the dQCQ2iS&d.— Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 In a letter written by Mrs. O'Donovan Rossa to her 
 sister, giving an account of the death and funeral of Mrs., 
 O'Brien, w^e read : 
 
 "It will be a shock to many friends to read the noticb 
 of Mrs. O'Brien's death. Rocky gave her a magnifi- 
 cent wake and funeral, and he remained on guard at 
 her side, or around the parlors, every hour of the time. 
 The rooms were almost filled with floral pieces from 
 the many friends of the family, and an increasing 
 throng of people who knew and loved her in life, passed 
 weeping to view the remains. Many a glowing 
 eulogy was passed in her memory, and at each new 
 tribute of esteem paid to his darling Maggie, 'Rocky's' 
 eye kindled and his bosom swelled. He himself paid 
 her the grandest tribute of all, in the palpable evidence 
 of his unaffected, adoring love of twenty years. At the 
 High Mass of Requiem at St. John's, Miss Rosemary 
 
220 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Rogers sang most feelingly; not a dry eye was in the 
 church as she played Mrs. O'Brien's favorite melody, 
 'Believe me, if all those endearing young charms.' 
 Nearly one hundred carriages followed the hearse to 
 Calvary, where all that is mortal of the late lovely and 
 hospitable wife of 'Rocky Mountain' O'Brien was 
 laid. 
 
 ''May she rest in peace." 
 
 Mrs. O'Brien was born in Henry street, New York, 
 thirty-eight years ago. Her father, John O'Sullivan, 
 was born in Ross Carbery, the son of Timothy O'Sul- 
 livan and Margaret O'Donovan Rossa. 
 
 HUNDREDS AT THE OBSEQUIES. 
 
 Impressive Services for the Wife of "Rocky Mountain" 
 
 O'Brien. 
 
 The funeral of the late Mrs. Margaret A. O'Brien, of 
 424 Hart street, wife of "Rocky Mountain" O'Brien, as 
 he is universally known, took place yesterday. Solemn 
 requiem high mass was celebrated in the Church of 
 St. John the Baptist, Lewis and Willoughby avenues, 
 by the Rev. Father Sullivan, pastor of the church, 
 assisted by Father Higgins as deacon and Father 
 Leyden as sub-deacon. Within the chancel rail was 
 the Rev. Father Crowley, of St. Ambrose Church, a 
 Avarm friend of the family. There were very many 
 beautiful floral tributes, the church was crowded and 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 221 
 
 the funeral altogether was one of the largest that has 
 been seen in the district for a long time. 
 
 The pall-bearers were Luke Dillon, of Philadelphia : 
 Mayor Kenny, of Harrison, N. J. ; O'Donovan Rossa, 
 John McCann, of Manhattan; Louis Graf, Frank X. 
 McCafifery, George Molloy, of Manhattan. The inter- 
 ment was in Calvary Cemetery. — Brooklyn Citizen. 
 
 A DISTINGUISHED IRISH-AMERICAN. 
 
 A Visit to His Old Home — Patrick "Rocky Mountain" 
 
 O'Brien in West Cork — Interviewed by a 
 
 "Star" Reporter. 
 
 Last week, hearing that the veteran patriot, "Rocky 
 Mountain" O'Brien, was taking a short holiday in his 
 native district, a representative of this journal, anxious 
 to obtain his views on things Irish and American, 
 called on the distinguished visitor at Bantry, where he 
 is at present- staying. Our representative having in- 
 troduced himself, after the fashion of O'Grady in the 
 ballad, was agreeably surprised to find Mr. O'Brien 
 just engaged in reading the "Star," while lying on the 
 table were the "Irish World" and O'Donovan Rossa's 
 "United Irishman." 
 
 Mr. O'Brien is, indeed, physically and intellectually, 
 a splendid type of Irishman, and, though now almost 
 fifty years of age, he looks much younger — a fact which 
 points to a robust and healthy constitution. Ever 
 since he took his departure from the Old Land he has 
 had an adventurous and checkered career in the greater 
 
222 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Ireland beyond the seas. Although only a boy when 
 leaving his native land, his heart, like many another 
 exiled Irishman's, always turned toward her. He longed 
 to see her freed from the foreign yoke which was 
 heavily oppressing her, and he never failed to give 
 assistance — generous assistance — to any movement 
 which tended toward the betterment of the country 
 and the upliftment of his race. The baseness and 
 perfidy of Irish landlordism — then in the zenith of its 
 evil work — made impressions on his mind which are as 
 firm to-day as when, a lad, he saw the old people in his 
 neighborhood thrown pitilessly on the roadside, and 
 the only cow taken for the rent ! He has ever pre- 
 served and fostered, wherever he went through the 
 great Continent, an undying love of Motherland, and 
 an ever-increasing anxiety to see an end to the long night 
 of slavery and oppression which she had to endure. 
 Mr. O'Brien left Ireland on board a merchant ship, sail- 
 ing from Bantry, and landed in Rio de Janeiro in 1868. 
 After spending six months there he went on to New 
 York, whence he went to Oregon. Having spent a 
 few years in Oregon, he traveled extensively through 
 California, and also in the republics of Mexico and 
 Central America. In 1870 he took part in the Fenian 
 raid in Canada, which, through the perfidy of Le Caron, 
 an Englishman, resulted in a complete fiasco. Pat 
 O'Leary, another Bantry man, and an uncle to Mr. 
 Patrick O'Leary, solicitor, was with him at the Pigeon 
 Hill invasion. Mr. O'Brien has traveled extensively 
 all over America, and has in recent years paid several 
 visits to Ireland. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 223 
 
 Our representative having courteously expressed to 
 Mr. O'Brien his wish to interview him, the latter laugh- 
 ingly replied : 
 
 "All right ; drive away ; ask as many questions as 
 you like." 
 
 *'Well, Mr. O'Brien," said our representative, "I 
 know you have a good knowledge both of Ireland and 
 America — what are your views on Irish emigration?" 
 
 'T am teetotally opposed to Irish emigration," replied 
 Mr. O'Brien, emphatically. "I want Irish boys and 
 girls to remain at home. It is saddening to see the 
 country becoming depopulated as it is. It is all moon- 
 shine about people becoming rich in America — if a 
 young man or woman can get a few pounds to send 
 home to the old folks and keep themselves respectable, 
 it is as much as they can do. There are too many 
 fairy tales told about prosperity in America — those 
 tales are mostly a hoax." 
 
 "What is the chief reason why you are opposed to 
 emigration ?" asked our representative. 
 
 "My principal reason for wishing them to remain at 
 home," said Mr. O'Brien, "is this: That if the people 
 continue emigrating, as the}^ are, there will soon be no 
 one left to fight the enemies of our race. I wish the 
 young people to stay and try to ameliorate the wrongs 
 inflicted on their country by robber landlords. In 
 years gone by the money that came from Irish boys 
 and girls in America found its way into the pockets of 
 these vampires, who lived on the once tribal lands 
 which were confiscated by the murdering Cromwellian 
 soldiery, and who spent this hard-earned money in 
 
234 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 the hells of Paris and the gambling dens of Europe. 
 I am every day becoming more and more convinced 
 that the people should remain at home in Ireland. It 
 is as rich as any other land. Instead of all the money 
 now finding its way into the pockets of the landlords, 
 the people could keep some of it and feed and clothe 
 themselves and educate their children better than in 
 the past." 
 
 "How does the general condition and appearance of 
 the country strike you at present?" queried our 
 representative. 
 
 "On the whole, I should say favorably," replied Mr. 
 O'Brien. "Coming across on the 'Teutonic' I had, as 
 fellow-passengers, two Irish-American young ladies, 
 who never saw Ireland before — Miss Gilbert and Miss 
 Kelleher — whose parents lived in the Millstreet dis- 
 trict. Down on the quay in Queenstown, seeing so 
 many handsome young girls leaving their country, they 
 were loud in their denunciation of English rule which 
 forced the girls to become exiles from their native land. 
 They had traveled extensively in France, Germany and 
 other lands, and found no girls to equal the Irish for 
 beauty and intelligence." 
 
 "How do our people in America compare with other 
 nationalities?" asked our representative. 
 
 "The Irish people are as prosperous, and more pros- 
 perous, than any other nationality, and able to hold 
 their own in every sphere of life. Irishmen are met on 
 the bench, the pupit, the stock exchange and in all the 
 leading establishments in the principal cities of Amer- 
 ica. In the press the leading men are Irish. Why, in 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 225 
 
 New York nine out of every ten newspaper men are either 
 Irish-born or Irish-American. There is one statement 
 I want to hurl back in the teeth of the enemies of our 
 country — a charge that has often been made — that the 
 Irish are a drunken nation. The fact is, they drink 
 less than other people. During my sojourn here I have 
 not seen, either in Bantry, Cork or wherever I have 
 traveled, a drunken man or woman. No; the Irish 
 people are not a drunken race. Other nationalities 
 that I have met in America drink more, and pay for 
 less, than the Irish people. Whatever an Irishman 
 drinks he pays for it. Other nationalities that I have 
 known loaf and sponge around barrooms, waiting for 
 some one to treat them, but Pat spends his own money. 
 I have seen more drunkenness among the Scotch, 
 Welsh, and English on their native heath in one hour 
 than I have ever seen in Ireland. If an Irishman is 
 treated only half decently, he can hold his own against 
 any nationality under the sun. In America the Irish 
 girl is noted for virtue, and the enemies of our race 
 have to freely admit it. And now I must say that, 
 both Protestant and Catholic, the Irish girls are the 
 most virtuous that ever set foot on American soil. 
 Never have the Irish girls I have met in America dis- 
 graced the mothers who bore them or the fathers they 
 left in tears behind them." 
 
 ''You have heard the statement made that Irishmen 
 are always envious toward each other. How do your 
 experiences tally with that?" 
 
 'Tt's a cowardly he !" replied Mr. O'Brien. "I have 
 heard it said that if you put one Irishman on the spit 
 
 15 
 
226 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 another will turn it. Fitzharris was offered thousands 
 if only he would turn informer of the Phoenix Park as- 
 sassination, and the day he was arrested his wife didn't 
 have the price of a loaf of bread in the house. The 
 people refused to betray Smith O'Brien, and numerous 
 like cases may be mentioned. They have informers in 
 Ireland, and so have they in every other nation. 
 America had her Benedict Arnold; France had her 
 Dreyfus ; Spain, Italy, England and Germany had their 
 traitors. Even the gallant Boers, who are fighting 
 twelve to one, are not without their cutthroat in- 
 formers. In 'yd the Catalpa Expedition rescued six 
 Fenian prisoners from Freemantle. This expedition 
 Avas organized by the Irishmen of Bedford, Massa- 
 chusetts, and any one who would betray it could name 
 his price, and get it from the Saxon Government, and 
 yet, though numbers were in the know, the secret was 
 kept." 
 
 "Have you, met many prosperous South of Ireland 
 men in the States?" asked our representative. 
 
 "Yes, numbers of them," said Mr. O'Brien. "Tim 
 Coughlan, formerly of Kilcrohane, Bantry, is one of the 
 leading Irish merchants in New York. He is a man 
 always ready to lend a hand to a fellow-countryman in 
 distress. The Chief of the Chicago Police is Mr. D. F. 
 O'Neill, formerly of Tralybawn, near Bantry, and an 
 old school-fellow of mine. Chicago is proud of 
 him, for he has hunted her burglars, bank- 
 robbers and thieves — in fact, since he was ap- 
 pointed Chicago has become too hot for law- 
 breakers. One of the most charitable of priests 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 227 
 
 and patriotic of Irishmen is Father Denis MacCartie, of 
 Newark, N. J. I saw him two weeks before I left, 
 and he desired me to convey his kindest regards to 
 his relatives and friends in West Cork. He has no 
 peer in America. In a short time the people of West . 
 Cork will hear of his being appointed bishop of one 
 of the largest dioceses in the States. Father Jeremiah 
 Crowley, of CoUomane, Bantry, who wore chains for 
 his country for advocating the cause of the evicted and 
 oppressed, is in charge of one of the leading parishes 
 in Chicago, and has Mr. O'Neill as one of his parish- 
 ioners. William McCarthy, of Skibbereen, has charge 
 of immense stores in Washington, and another gentle- 
 man who is a credit to Skibbereen is Charles Mc- 
 Carthy, a leading engineer in New York. Another 
 good Irishman from Skibbereen was the late John 
 Howard, of New York, and his widow, though an 
 American lady, is as Irish as was her husband." 
 
 "Whom do you think will be the next President?" 
 asked our representative. 
 
 "I should say Theodore Roosevelt, the present Vice- 
 President. Fie is a high-tariff man, a friend of the 
 workingman and a protectionist. I think free trade 
 would be the greatest curse that ever befell American 
 mechanics and tradesmen. It would be most detri- 
 mental to American industries." 
 
 "I see you're not a Democrat and I suppose you 
 don't agree with Bryan on the silver question?" 
 
 "I am a Republican, but I would be in favor of the 
 free coinage of silver if it were made an international 
 issue, but I don't see why America should regulate the 
 
228 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 price of silver for the rest of the world. If other 
 powers accepted silver on the same basis as gold I 
 would be a silver man myself." 
 
 "How is the Boer war viewed in America?" • 
 . ''The American people, irrespective of party, are in 
 full sympathy with the Boers." 
 
 "Then how is it that McKinley was elected?" 
 
 "Outside of his English proclivities he is a great 
 statesman, and the prosperity of America demanded 
 his election at the time. The election of Bryan would 
 upset the present prosperity, whatever would be the 
 ultimate issue." 
 
 "By the way, Mr. O'Brien, is it a fact that detectives 
 have been following you from Cork all over the coun- 
 try, and that two Scotland Yard men are on your 
 track?" asked our representative. 
 
 "I have not the slightest doubt that such is the case," 
 replied Mr. O'Brien ; "but by the time I leave Ireland 
 they will know just as much about me then as now. 
 I offer no apology for my presence on Irish soil to any 
 human being. I am an American citizen, and that flag 
 protects me. Whether my business here is of a pri- 
 vate or public nature, that's my affair, and nobody 
 else's. I am looking for neither trouble nor prosecu- 
 tions. I am stopping here for a week or two at 
 Vickery's Hotel, and anybody that wants me can find 
 me." 
 
 "I believe you propose erecting a monument to your 
 parents in Ardfield Graveyard?" said our representa- 
 tive. 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. O'Brien, "that is so; with an inscrip- 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 229 
 
 tion both in Irish and EngHsh. The plan is entrusted 
 
 to the care of Mr. Charles Doran, of Queenstown " 
 
 ^'Another worthy Irishman/' remarked our repre- 
 sentative. 
 
 "Ah!" said Mr. O'Brien, ''the truest of the true!" 
 Our reporter then thanked Mr. O'Brien and with- 
 drew. — Skihbereen Southern Star, July, 27, 1901. 
 
 'ROCKY MOUNTAIN" O'BRIEN 
 
 Vigorously Resents Mr. Dooley's Caricature of the 
 
 Irish Race. 
 
 The attention of the Observer has been called by Mr. 
 John J. Doran to the following letter signed by Patrick 
 "Rocky Mountain" O'Brien, which has appeared in the 
 United Irishman, of New York : 
 
 Dear Rossa: A great deal has been talked of lately 
 about the stage Irishman and also about the caricatur- 
 ing of our people by some of the unclean yellow sheets 
 published in the different towns and cities all over the 
 United States. But to my mind "Mr. Dooley," alias 
 Dunn, is the most contemptible lampooner of the Irish 
 race, and the lowest scavenger cad in America. He is no 
 doubt a very clever writer, but why does he select his 
 own race in preference to other nationalities? His 
 writings are copied by every anti-Irish and every anti- 
 Qatholic paper in the United States. And the front 
 pages of every A. P. A. organ always quote what has 
 passed between Dooley and Hennessy. Now, Rossa, 
 
230 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 a few words from you will put this defamer of our 
 people out of business, and I call on you to do it for 
 the sake of your children and the good mother that 
 bore them, as well as for the sake of very numerous 
 readers. If you don't do it you will lose one subscriber 
 to 3^our paper, and that is the writer. I have sent 
 copies of the following communication to Mr. John 
 Finerty, of the Chicago Citizen, and to Mr. J. J. Roach, 
 of the Boston Pilot: 
 
 ''Mr. J. J. Roach, Boston Pilot. 
 
 ''Dear Mr. Roach : If you will not try to stop 
 Dooley, alias Dunn, from making fun of our kith and 
 kin you can stop sending me the Pilot. I care not 
 what you may think of his writings or what effect they 
 may have in ridicule of our people. I will accept no 
 apology from you for him. 
 "Sincerely yours, 
 
 "Patrick 'Rocky Mountain' O'Brien." 
 
 I wrote John Finerty a similar letter, and you can 
 also abide by what I have written these gentlemen. 
 You cannot confer a greater favor on the tenants of the 
 United Irishman estate than by giving Mr. Dooley to 
 understand that he has gone far enough, and that in 
 future he must select other nationalities and seek for 
 greener fields and pastures new. 
 
 Mrs. O'Donovan Rossa does not call the word speak 
 "spake," nor deal "dale," foremost "forninst," never 
 "niver," or real "rale." Neither would Mrs. John 
 Howard call easy "aisy," and I am sure Charley Doran 
 would not call meat "mate." I have never yet heard 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 231 
 
 an Irishman or Irishwoman pronounce words as Mr. 
 Dooley would make the pubHc beheve they do. David 
 McCosker does not talk that way; neither does 
 Maurice O'Connor; neither do the O'Sullivan 
 brothers, of Lowell; neither does Attorney Cohoran, 
 of New York ; neither does Judge O'Neill Ryan, of St. 
 Louis; neither does Wilham McCrystal; neither does 
 Father Tierney, of San Francisco ; neither does Father 
 Lynch, of California, nor his brother, Luke Lynch, of 
 Brooklyn; neither does Mr. Wycherley, of the Skib- 
 bereen Eagle; neither does Jack O'Shea, T. C, Skib- 
 bereen ; neither does Tim Sheehy ; neither does James 
 Gilhooly, M.P., Bantry; neither does Billy Crossin, of 
 the Irish American Club, Philadelphia; neither does 
 Pat O'Neill; neither does Dr. McCahy. Even though 
 England did her best to keep the Irish people in ignorance 
 as well as in subjection, she has never yet succeeded with 
 that part of the programme ; for if an Irishman has a half 
 chance he is sure to demonstrate his ability both in this 
 country and the old one. Take Richelieu Robinson, of 
 Brooklyn ; he was in Congress for several years ; saw you 
 at his funeral ; he is only one Irishman out of a million 
 who are possessed of all the necessary qualifications to fill 
 any office in the land. Mr. McAdoo, now Police Commis- 
 sioner of your great city, is an Irishman ; he would not 
 call meal "male"; neither does Williams, nor others; 
 Patrick Collins, Mayor of Boston, would not call 
 whisper ''fisper." Ireland has furnished the pulpit, the 
 bench and the bar with as brilliant material as has any 
 nation in the world, and yet Mr. Dooley makes fun of 
 Archbishop Farley's ancestors, and also of Recorder 
 
232 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Goff's, and Judge Fitzgerald's, and of Judge O'Ryan's, 
 of St. Louis, as well as of yours and mine. Tiiis must 
 be stopped, and stopped immediately, and you are the 
 very man to stop it. You can do it by publishing this 
 letter and sending the following people copies to distribute 
 among their friends : David McCosker, 20 Walker street, 
 New York; O'SuUivan Brothers, rubber heels, Lowell 
 Mass., 500 each ; Maurice O'Connor, 500 copies ; William 
 McCrystal, 500 ; Capt. Peter Kelly, Chicago, police, 500 
 copies ; Luke Lynch, Brooklyn, 500 ; James Cusick, 
 Brooklyn, N. Y., 500 ; also 500 to James Doyle, of Balti- 
 more; John O'Sullivan, R. M., Aurora, Neb., 500 
 copies; Mrs. John Howard, 500. None of these per- 
 sons mentioned will refuse taking 500 copies, and as 
 money talks this will put Dooley out of business on 
 general principles. — Pittsburg Observer. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 233 
 
 "ROCKY MOUNTAIN" O'BRIEN. 
 
 A Fenian, He Was with the Raiders Into Canada and 
 
 Single-Handed Captured Pigeon Hill— He Has 
 
 Performed Many Daring Feats and Has 
 
 Been a Soldier in Many Climes. 
 
 Among Boston's recent distinguished visitors was a 
 man whose name is as remarkable as his personality 
 and who is widely known in Ireland and to many Irish- 
 men of this country. He is Mr. ''Rocky Mountain" 
 O'Brien, and is a hero of the celebrated Fenian upris- 
 ing of 1870. 
 
 He is perhaps most generally known for the auda- 
 cious feat of capturing a Canadian village single- 
 handed in those stirring times— it was the only town 
 that fell to either side, and O'Brien, accompanied by 
 one companion, rode into the hamlet of Pigeon Hill one 
 morning in May thirty years ago and demanded the 
 surrender of the town in the name of the Fenian 
 brotherhood and in the cause of justice. They told the 
 officers of the village that they had an army of 20,000 
 ready to march over the hill and destroy the settle- 
 ment if it were not immediately turned over to them, 
 including supplies, ammunition and arms, and confi- 
 dentially advised them to do it. 
 
 The town was surrendered, and, after holding it for 
 several hours as a spoil of war O'Brien and his com- 
 panion went forth to get their army, and discovered 
 ^ that their cause was lost, their leader captured and 
 * thev were forced to fly in haste for their safety. The 
 
234 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 town is still standing near the New York line and is 
 nominally waiting for the two daring Fenians to 
 return and claim it according to the articles of war, for 
 it has not been recaptured or formally given over by 
 them. 
 
 ''Rocky Mountain" O'Brien has performed many 
 daring feats in his career of adventure round the globe, 
 but none of them can compare with his capture of 
 Pigeon Hill, and he says that he is not done revolutioniz- 
 ing yet. He is a sworn enemy of the British flag, he 
 says, and can never forgive England's oppression of 
 his mother country. 
 
 At present he is a prominent citizen of Brooklyn, 
 N. Y., when he is at home. He is just now returning 
 from an extended tour in Europe, and has spent many 
 months in Ireland and England. 
 
 ''Rocky Mountain" O'Brien was born near Bantry 
 Bay forty-nine years ago, and spent his youth near his 
 native place and saw many acts of injustice done 
 to his people, and while a very young man made up his 
 mind to strike back for the wrong done. His deter- 
 mination got the better of him one day and resulted in 
 an action that compelled him to flee from the country. 
 
 One morning he saw a bailiff and a policeman seize 
 the only cow belonging to a poor old man living near 
 him. The man had a family of seven to support and 
 the cow was their main prop. Young O'Brien was so 
 incensed that he raised an alarm among the neighbors 
 and headed a band which rescued the cow and soundly 
 belabored the officers of the Crown. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 235 
 
 They recognized him and would have imprisoned him, 
 but to avoid prosecution he fled the country, 
 taking refuge on board a vessel bound for Rio 
 Janeiro. Then his adventures began; he has had 
 ups and downs all his life from the very start, but has 
 been very fortunate. From Rio Janeiro he gradually 
 worked his way across the Isthmus and up into the 
 United States. 
 
 He settled in the mining camps of the West, and 
 there lost the name of Patrick, with which he had been 
 christened, and acquired in its stead "Rocky Moun- 
 tain," which has stuck to him ever since and is now the 
 only title by which he is known. It was while he was 
 in the West that word came of the intended uprising 
 against England and the plan to strike the blow by 
 entering Canada. He came East at once and offered 
 his services in any capacity in which they would be 
 accepted. 
 
 He was sent to Malone, N. Y., and there met Mosby, 
 a nephew and copartner of the famous Confederate 
 raider, and with him took charge of the formation of a 
 band of men who were to be assembled near the 
 border, at a place called Richardson's farm. O'Brien 
 and Mosby got their men there, about 500 in number, 
 all armed and ready to advance upon the arrival of the 
 proper authorities, and the commander, Capt. O'Neill, 
 the army officer who was in charge of the affair. 
 
 The subsequent happenings are now a part of his- 
 tory. O'Neill waited in vain for the 2,000 who were 
 coming from Boston, and finally decided to push on, 
 while O'Brien and Capt. Dennis Short advanced on 
 
236 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 Pigeon Hill and captured that town for the Fenians 
 single-handed, about the only piece of good luck that 
 befell the small band of raiders. 
 
 Speaking of the affair, O'Brien says that there were 
 many hitches and that the lack of forces and the failure 
 of co-operation on the part of the troops from Boston 
 ruined the cause. 
 
 "We might have pushed forward and dealt a de- 
 cisive blow," said he, "but for the lack of enthusiasm in 
 many quarters. We had 20,000 of arms along the 
 border, which had been shipped up there as glass, and 
 were in readiness to be distributed to a very powerful 
 force. The redcoats were waiting for us, and when 
 the men advanced from Richardson's farm we were 
 surprised by a regiment, and in the few hours of hot 
 fighting that followed lost several men and were forced 
 to retreat. 
 
 "Then the United States authorities swept down on 
 us and gathered in O'Neill and one or two others. I 
 remember we were all standing in the road, when we 
 were startled by a shout to clear the way, and a team 
 of four horses and a coach dashed by us. I recognized 
 O'Neill sitting inside with two United States officers. 
 Some of the men Avere tempted to kill the horses and 
 rescue the leader, but cooler heads prevailed, and al- 
 though one or two shots were fired after the fleeing 
 coach, no damage was done. When O'Neill had been 
 taken away we were without a leader until Boyle 
 O'Reilly was prevailed upon to take charge." — Boston 
 Globe, December 22, 1902. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 237 
 
 IRELAND AND ITS POSSIBILITIES. 
 
 Lecture by Mr. Patrick "Rocky Mountain" O'Brien 
 
 in Skibbereen. 
 
 Last week Mr. Patrick O'Brien lectured in the Town 
 Hall, Skibbereen, on 'Ireland and Her Possibilities." 
 Mr. John Murphy, C. U. C, presided, and there was a 
 very large attendance, including Messrs. F. McCarthy, 
 N. C. C. ; T. Sheehy, U. C. : John Shea, Town Clerk, and 
 several others. Mr. O'Brien, who was enthusiastically 
 received, said in part : 
 
 "Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen :— This is the 
 first time I have had the distinguished honor of address- 
 ing an audience composed entirely of Irishmen and Irish- 
 women. I will attempt to convey to you an idea of the 
 Irish race in America as I found them during the period 
 of my sojourn there. I left your land (and mine) thirty 
 years ago and sought, beneath the glorious Starry Ban- 
 ner of the American Republic that freedom denied me 
 in my own country. [Cheers.] What I will say to you to- 
 night about the Irish race in that country is not romance, 
 remember, but facts that have come under my own obser- 
 vation, and bear in mind, ladies and gentlemen, I do not 
 pretend to be an orator; on the contrary, I am but a 
 poor excuse for one. You will, therefore, be kind 
 enough to grant me your indulgence for a short time, 
 and whenever you get tired of me, say so, and I shall 
 
 stop. 
 
 "In the year 1847, a few years before I was born, the 
 tide of emigration from Ireland commenced to flow. 
 
238 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 caused by a so-called famine that year. Of course, many 
 of our people left for America; years before our people 
 also departed for America and distinguished themselves 
 in the Revolutionary War, fighting side by side with the 
 illustrious Washington, who was, as you know, of Eng- 
 lish extraction; but the greatest exodus was during the 
 years '47, '49, '50 and thence up to 1879. Now, about 
 the famine of '47. I maintain there never was a real 
 famine in Ireland. It was an artificial famine, caused 
 by the hirelings of hell and the gluttonous law dispensers, 
 who were so detrimental to our country. As you are 
 aware, the population of Ireland before the so-called 
 famine was 9,000,000. To-day she has about one-half 
 that number. Now, then, if Ireland could support 
 9,000,000 people previous to that artificial famine (which 
 was artificial in every sense of the word), and ship more 
 than half the products of her soil to England, how in the 
 name of God can any person face an intelligent audience 
 and say there was or is famine in Ireland? While our 
 people were dying by the roadside from starvation in 
 those years of which I speak, steamers were leaving the 
 'Cove of Cork' laden with beef and mutton for the 
 people who passed coercion laws for Ireland. The very 
 milk was scarcely cold from the cow when it was shipped 
 to England in refrigerators ; the eggs barely laid before 
 they found their way to English markets, and during all 
 this time our people were dying of hunger in the north 
 of Ireland, and in the County Donegal people were com- 
 pelled to eat foals. During this period our people were 
 buried in coffinless graves with more food leaving Ire- 
 land than was necessary to supply their wants. It is 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 239 
 
 too well known how our race has been persecuted since 
 the reign of Strongbow and the invasion of Oliver Crom- 
 well. Everything has been taken from us except our 
 good name and the virtue of our women. In telling 
 you about the Irish race in America, there is one class 
 of people I wish to call your, attention to in particular — 
 it is that of the Irish girls, or, if you choose to call them 
 so, domestics. Well, my friends, I would impress upon 
 the mind of every Irish mother in this audience to-night 
 who has a daughter in America, that that daughter is 
 a girl to be proud of, for under the canopy of Heaven 
 to-day, in any country or clime, a purer, more honest 
 or more noble soul does not exist, and the enemies of 
 our race admit that the brightest gem, the most sacred 
 and precious jewel an Irish girl possesses, is her virtue; 
 and I proclaim it here to-night, as I would proclaim it 
 before the Throne of God, that the fairest, gentlest 
 and best of women I have ever met are Irishwomen! 
 You may well be proud of your daughters. Irishwomen, 
 for I have found them to be like the wife of Julius 
 Caesar — above reproach. When an Irish gril leaves 
 home and bids a last farewell to her tender-hearted 
 father and loving mother, her heart is breaking, for she 
 is leaving the scenes of her once happy childhood to 
 wander in a strange land and is destined probably never 
 more to see those beloved parents, but she carries with 
 her her fond mother's advice, 'Attend to your religious 
 duties; go to your church on Sunday, no matter what 
 denomination you belong to, and keep away from bad 
 company.' These words are ringing in her ears from 
 the moment she sets foot on board the steamer that is to 
 
240 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 bear her away, and the further from home she goes the 
 more determined she is to abide by the advice of her 
 fond mother and loving father, and she becomes pos- 
 sessed of a greater will power than ever before and is 
 fully determined never to bring the blush of shame to 
 the cheeks of a broken-hearted father and daily-weeping 
 mother. When she takes a last glimpse of the land 
 where first she saw the light she makes up her mind to 
 be true to her fatherland, come what will. I have met 
 Irish girls in every sphere of life during the many years 
 I spent in the United States, in the Republic of Mexico, 
 the Dominion of Canada and in the republics and prin- 
 cipalities in South America, and always felt proud of 
 them, no matter what their creed. I have known Protes- 
 tant Irish girls to assume the duties of their Catholic 
 comrades when they went to their places of worship, 
 and I have known Catholic girls to do the same for their 
 Protestant comrades. I will relate an incident that oc- 
 curred some ten years ago in the great State of Texas. 
 I was stopping at the Hotel Vendome in El Paso and 
 had a room on the second floor. It was about two o'clock 
 in the morning, when I was about to retire, that one ol 
 the colored porters asked the time, and I told him. 'My 
 God !' said he, *it is too late and too early.' 
 
 " 'What is the matter?' said I. 
 
 " 'Nothing, boss, only one of the chambermaids is dy- 
 ing, and I'm afraid that the two girls who went for the 
 priest cannot get him to come at this hour.' 
 
 " 'What is her name ?' I asked. 
 
 " 'Mary O'Donnell, boss,' said he. 
 
 "I knew from her name what her nationality was, and 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 241 
 
 became interested. Just at that moment a Catholic 
 clergyman appeared on the scene with the two girls 
 who went for him, both Protestants, both born in Ireland. 
 The girl recovered in a few days and was at her work 
 about the hotel before I left. I hope she is still living and 
 1 hope that the two Protestants are enjoying all the happi- 
 ness of this world, and I hope a place awaits them in 
 Heaven. [Cheers.] 
 
 "I could relate several other incidents similar to this, 
 but it would take too long. The Irish race, as you are 
 all aware, are scattered about like birds of the air. You 
 find them in every walk of life : in the army and navy, 
 on the bench and in the pulpit. I am now speaking of 
 the Irish race in other lands. The Republic of Chili 
 was founded by. an Irishman named O'Higgins. Peru 
 was founded by Lynch, also an Irishman. The present 
 President of the United States boasts of Irish descent. 
 The Irish settled in America when it was composed of set- 
 tlements, and one of the early governors of the colony of 
 New York was a man born in Limerick, Thomas 
 Dongan, the Governor who gave New York City its first 
 charter. The majority of the men who fought side 
 by side with Washington were Irish or of Irish descent. 
 [Loud applause.] General O' Sullivan, of Beare, was 
 aid-de-camp to Washington, and he was an Irishman's 
 son; so was Fitzgerald. Jeremiah O'Brien (who cap- 
 tured an English man-of-war) and his seven sons were 
 born in Skibbereen. [Cheers.] He fought the first sea 
 battle for American freedom. Jack Barry, a native of 
 Wexford, was a Commodore of the American Navy. 
 When George III.'s embassy offered him a bribe his 
 
 16 
 
243 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 answer was simply this: 'I am a poor man, but go back 
 and tell your master that England is not rich enough to 
 buy me/ [Applause.] I saw the grave in St. Mary's 
 Cemetery, in Philadelphia, where Jack Barry is buried. 
 I also saw the grave, in Machiasport, Me., where Jere- 
 miah O'Brien is buried. 
 
 "Now, I must try to tell you something about the Irish 
 of the present in America. A great many people have 
 false ideas about America and think that it is only neces- 
 sary to go to New York and 'all will be fair sailing.' 
 But such, my dear friends, is not the case. America is 
 as hard a country for a person without friends or money 
 as there is in the world. I have seen our people on more 
 occasions than one without the price of a cup of coffee 
 (no fault of theirs), but whose proud spirit would not 
 allow them to make their wants known. I have known 
 men to land in New York and walk the streets for weeks 
 and to sleep in some one of the city parks for want of a 
 better place to lay their heads. What must be the man's 
 thoughts when suffering this way in a country with full 
 and plenty all around him ? I know a man who to-day is 
 one of the leading manufacturers in New York City and 
 who has visited Skibbereen on commercial business, who 
 had a similar experience. He landed in New York and 
 looked for work until his money was all gone, and before 
 he would tell any person his predicament he slept in one 
 of the public parks two nights (I have this from his own 
 lips). To-day, thank God! he is worth half a million 
 dollars, and there is not a man in New York who deserves 
 it more [Hear! Hear!], for he is a man and an Irishman. 
 
 "Remember, we have two classes in America: the 
 good and the bad — he belongs to the former. 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 243 
 
 "There is a class of Irishmen who land in America 
 with no more money than the law demands, and your 
 humble servant was one of them. Some of the men, 
 when they become rich, forget that they were ever poor, 
 and whenever they are asked to contribute anything for 
 poor old Ireland they ask in what paper will it be pub- 
 lished. These are few, thank God ! and the other class 
 outnumbers them enough to balance the scales in our 
 favor. The man who goes to America and earns a 
 decent living, and never forgets the old folks at home, 
 and as years roll by accumulates wealth, is always an 
 Irishman and is ready at all times to help a countryman 
 and to contribute to anything beneficial to his country. 
 As for the Irish girl, I need say nothing more, for I have 
 already said her generosity is known both in America 
 and Ireland. She always sends the best part of her 
 wages to her fond parents at home and is never back- 
 ward in contributing to every good cause. 
 
 'There is a six milHon dollar cathedral in New York 
 City, built from the wages of Irish boys and girls in New 
 York. [Loud cheers.] So were the convents and hospitals 
 and orphan homes. It is true some of the wealthy Irish- 
 men in America contributed, but before the millionaires 
 loomed up in the shadowy distance the Irish servant 
 girls gave money out of hard-earned wages, and may 
 God reward them for it— if not in this world, in the 
 next. [Hear! Hear!] 
 
 'There is a great deal, my friends, in the rearing of 
 children by their parents in America, but I am proud to 
 be able to state here to-night that in nine out of every 
 ten cases all the Irish mothers I met in the United 
 
244 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 States reared their children in the old school and gave 
 them to understand they were sons and daughters of 
 the Sod. [Applause.] 
 
 "I was traveling late one night on horseback in the 
 Republic of Mexico when there were no carriage roads 
 where I was. It was a beautiful night in the month of 
 August and the moon was shining brightly. I was alone, 
 and let me tell you Mexico at night is not a very enviable 
 place. I was on my way to a mining camp, some twenty 
 miles distant, and not a human being was in sight. Sud- 
 denly I heard a voice in Spanish and two men on horse- 
 back quickly approached me and said: 'Comos tha mus?' 
 meaning 'How do you do?' I knew just about enough 
 Spanish to answer : 'Beau gracio, senor' — 'Well, thank 
 you.' I was little inclined to stop and talk to them, lest 
 they might enter into a Spanish conversation, of which 
 language I knew but little. I kept my finger on the trig- 
 ger of my revolver, determined to be ready if there were 
 to be any shooting done. [Cheers.] After they left me 
 they stopped to water their horses. I also stopped, but 
 was out of sight. Both wore heavy black beards. Soon 
 one of them said: 'Where is that fellow going?' The 
 other answered : 'I expect he is going to Wallace's mine, 
 that damned Yankee thieving company. I bet they will 
 dupe him, too, if he is not a member of the concern.' 
 
 " 'Perhaps he is the paymaster,' said the other. Then 
 the other man commenced to sing the following song: 
 
 " 'And although we are exiled children, no matter where 
 
 we go. 
 We won't give up the old land without another blow.' 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 245 
 
 I rode back to where they were watering their horses, 
 and, introducing myself, found them to be not Spanish, 
 for one was a genuine i8-karat Tipperary man and the 
 other a Devonshire Englishman, copartners in a large 
 cattle ranch forty miles distant in the interior of 
 Mexico. I remained at their place one week, and while 
 I was their guest they sang that same song more than 
 once. I afterward met them in the City of Mexico. 
 There was a great bull-fight in the city, and they asked 
 me to accompany them to the arena, but I said I did 
 not care to see such a brutal show, but they finally 
 prevailed upon me. 
 
 "1 must tell you that it is not two bulls that fight, but 
 a man and bull and sometimes a bull and a woman. 
 On this occasion the fighter was a man, and he killed 
 two bulls. He spoke nothing but Spanish all the time. 
 I bought his photograph. On the placards his name 
 was Barnado Garvano, but after the fight was over my 
 two friends introduced the celebrated bull-fighter to 
 me as Barney Gavin, a native of Westport, County 
 Mayo, Ireland. [Laughter and cheers.] He was in 
 the City of Mexico and spoke Spanish fluently. Such 
 is the history of an Irishman. He spoke Irish to us in 
 the hotel afterward. [Applause.] I was down on 
 Long Island, some ninety miles from New York City, 
 about sixteen years ago, spending a few weeks with 
 my poor wife and two children, when I was suddenly 
 called to New York on business. As I could get no 
 train until late in the evening I went to a livery stable 
 and hired a horse and buggy to drive to the next rail- 
 road station, twelve miles distant. The proprietor of 
 
246 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 the stable sent a boy about ten years old to bring back 
 the horse and buggy. I asked the lad if he could drive, 
 and he said yes, but the horse being rather lively at the 
 time I took the reins from him. I saw by his face that 
 he did not like the idea of the reins being taken from 
 him, but I apologized to him by saying he was too 
 young to handle such a blooded animal. 
 
 "About four miles outside the town we happened to 
 pass a cemetery. I saw the lad looking at a newly- 
 made grave with tears in his eyes. 'Mister,' said he to 
 me, 'would you please allow me to visit my poor 
 mother's grave? That is, if you think you have suf- 
 ficient time ; if not I will not go.' I told him to go, 
 no matter what time it would be. He went, and I saw 
 him kneeling on his mother's grave. I must confess 
 I wept ! When he returned I asked him his name. He 
 replied, Patrick O'Flaherty. He said his father was 
 born in Cork and his mother in England. I shall never 
 forget the way he spoke of his dead mother. He told 
 me he never missed a Sunday without visiting her 
 grave, and I impressed upon his youthful mind the 
 necessity of so doing, and told him to continue in that 
 way. When I returned from New York I related the 
 circumstance to my wife, and she said that the boy 
 would prosper for remembering his mother. How 
 true was her prophecy ! To-day that boy is Mayor of 
 a town in Long Island, and he is happily married. He 
 never visits New York without calling on me. He always 
 refers to the incident of sixteen years ago. He told 
 me a few vears since that he had erected one of the finest 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 247 
 
 monuments in the cemetery over the grave where he 
 wept sixteen years before. [Cheers.] 
 
 "No man who ever went back on his parents was any 
 better for it, and I am sorry to say I have known Irish- 
 men in America to do so, but thank God '.-they are few. 
 
 ''A great many people, unfortunately for themselves, 
 remain in the large manufacturing cities of Philadel- 
 phia, Boston and New York, instead of going farther 
 west to the prairies. But a number of our people land 
 with no more money than the law commands, hence 
 they must live where they land. I have found Irish 
 people in agricultural pursuits in the far West, espe- 
 cially California, very prosperous. It is true a great 
 many of our people have prospered in our large East- 
 ern cities, but the further away from the East the Irish- 
 man goes the better are his chances for success. 
 
 'The years I have spent in America have not taught 
 me to forget the persecutors of my race; they have 
 taught me to hate them. And as years roll on that 
 hate increases more and more, and is stronger than 
 when I left Ireland to seek a livelihood under that 
 flag which is the emblem of freedom — the Star 
 Spangled Banner." [Loud and continuous cheering.] — 
 Skibbereen Eagle, August, 1901. 
 
248 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 THE UNITED IRISH LEAGUE PUBLIC 
 MEETING AT DROMORE. 
 
 The Rev. Father Burts was called to the chair, and 
 among those present were Messrs. Patrick "Rocky 
 Mountain" O'Brien, F. McCarthy, J. T. O'Hea, P. 
 Nugent and others. 
 
 Mr. O'Brien, who was received with great cheering, 
 said he had great pleasure in coming there that day to 
 say a few words to the people of Dromore, because in 
 the little schoolhpuse yonder he was taught his A, B, 
 C's. That same schoolhouse turned out many dis- 
 tinguished men who were in America to-day, among 
 them he might mention Frank O'Neill, Chief of Police 
 in Chicago, who in that little schoolhouse learned his 
 A, B, C's side by side with himself. [Hear! Hear!] 
 He holds one of the loftiest positions that Irishmen in 
 America might claim. He need not tell them that he 
 is well able to fill that position, and that burglars and 
 desperados have a "holy horror" of Frank O'Neill, of 
 Tralybawn. [Cheers.] In this little schoolhouse was 
 also taught a gentleman, Mr. O'Driscoll, of Augha- 
 ville, who is now dead, and who was one of San Fran- 
 cisco's leading merchants. Speaking on the land 
 question, he said that his opinion was that God 
 Almighty made the world not for a few, but the whole 
 human race. He did not create it for robber landlords. 
 He never meant that lOO acres be given to one man, 
 500 to another, 100,000 to another and none to some. 
 [Hear! Hear!] His opinion was that until they aboh 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 249 
 
 ished landlordism they would have no prosperity in the 
 country. [Hear! Hear!] They could only do that 
 by uniting together, joining the national organization 
 and, standing on a united platform, try to wring 
 concessions from the landlords, and if this failed they 
 should take up arms, if necessary, and assert their 
 rights in the land that bore them. [Cheers.] For the 
 last seven hundred years England had been robbing 
 and persecuting their country; she had held Ireland in 
 an iron grip ; in the streets of Clonakilty the Saxon 
 mercenaries held up little children on their bayonets. 
 The landlords of to-day were the descendants of these 
 hirelings. They were the absentee landlords, who 
 were ruling Ireland [Shame!] and of the hard-earned 
 money that was sent by the industrious Irish boys and 
 girls in America £9 out of every £10 found its way to 
 the pockets of these robber landlords, who spent it in 
 the gambling hells of Europe. 
 
 Now his advice to the people was to live on the 
 product of the land themselves, and if there were any- 
 thing over to give it to the landlords. If he had his 
 say they would get nothing; but at all events let them 
 come last. [Hear! Hear!] 
 
 A Voice — What claim have they to it ? 
 
 Mr. O'Brien — None; absolutely none. I say that 
 the landlords are the biggest scoundrels and the big- 
 gest highwaymen in the world to-day. [Hear! Hear!] 
 He left that parish himself owing to the action of rob- 
 ber landlords. His heart was with them to-day in Dro- 
 more, and his advice from the platform was to give the 
 landlords only what was left. [Hear! Hear!] Give 
 
250 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 them nothing, even. If they acted unitedly and 
 showed that they were doing the work they would 
 have the sympathy and assistarj.ce of the Irish race in 
 America. [Cheers.] There was no other nationality 
 as grand and noble as the Irish race in America. They 
 in Dromore and in every other portion of Ireland had 
 reason to be proud of their boys and girls in America 
 [Cheers] for they never forgot that they had a char- 
 acter and purity to sustain. 
 
 Yes, they had always before their minds the last 
 parting requests of their aged parents when taking 
 their final farewell of the land which in all probability 
 they were destined never more to see. They could see 
 the Irish girls up at 4 o'clock in the morning scrubbing 
 the floor of a hotel, afterward going to Mass and then 
 sitting down to send their earnings to their parents at 
 home. He (Mr. O'Brien) went to America not be- 
 cause he had a row with the family coachman — there 
 was no coachman in the family. [Laughter.] He did 
 not go there looking for poverty; it was staring him 
 in the face at home. Every spot and every plot in the 
 country was dearer to him than those of any other land 
 [Cheers], but he was forced to leave owing to the greed 
 and injustice of landlordism. There was a great deal 
 of emigration from Ireland in the last fifty years, and 
 he advised the young boys and girls to remain in Ire- 
 land in order to leave some at home who would yet 
 release Ireland from the grasp of her tyrants and ex- 
 terminate them. [Cheers Cheers.] If an opportu- 
 nity to right their country were granted it was their 
 duty to avail themselves of it. Obedience was a sol- 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 251 
 
 dier's first duty. They should obey in both the church 
 and the army; if not they would go to pieces. [Hear! 
 Hear!] They should work with courage and deter- 
 mination if they were refused their rights, and if an- 
 other artificial famine arose they must do what Tommy 
 Downshires did — took the provisions from the ships and 
 his brother Ulster Orangemen and warned them not to 
 pay more than tenpence on the pound. [Applause.] 
 If there had been more Tommy Downshires in the South 
 of Ireland in the famine period there would not have 
 been so many cofhnless graves in Skibbereen and 
 Bantry, for the food which went to feed the hirelings who 
 passed coercion laws against Ireland would have fed the 
 people of the South. He advised them to join an organi- 
 zation beneficial to their country and be ready at all times 
 to strike a blow for freedom. [Applause.] — Skibbereen 
 Eagle, August, 1901. 
 
252 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 INDEX 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Preface 5 
 
 The Massacre of Wyoming, 1778 30 
 
 Tammany 42 
 
 Farewell to Ireland 50 
 
 Bantry Bay 53 
 
 Thoughts of the Fenian Days 56 
 
 On Leaving Ireland 59 
 
 Leaving Home 61 
 
 A Dream of Home 63 
 
 KiLLARNEY 66 
 
 Maggie 69 
 
 Skibbereen 70 
 
 My Friends in Bantry 72 
 
 Old Dromore 73 
 
 A Visit to My Native Land 77 
 
 A Visit to Clonakilty 80 
 
 Shaun Bhee's Eviction 84 
 
 On Board the "Campania" 85 
 
 A Tribute to My Beloved Wife 88 
 
 To Ireland 90 
 
 A Visit to Gougane Barra 92 
 
 To My Esteemed Friends of Bantry Bay 96 
 
 The Maid of Droumourtneen 98 
 
 Judas Iscariot Sheridan — The Peeler 101 
 
 On Board the "Teutonic" 103 
 
 Dear Old Collomane 105 
 
 An Irish Girl 107 
 
 A Tribute to Major John McBride 109 
 
 Thinking of Home 112 
 
BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 253 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Thoughts of Boyhood Days 114 
 
 GOLEEN 115 
 
 A Year Since Then 120 
 
 Unity 121 
 
 The Sister of Mercy 122 
 
 On Board the ''Majestic" 125 
 
 Capture of Lord Methuen in South Africa. . . . 126 
 
 A Shamrock from Ireland 129 
 
 A Visit to the Old Folks' Grave 131 
 
 Why Fm Sad 132 
 
 My First Visit to Gougane Barra 134 
 
 An Appeal to Ireland 136 
 
 The Irish Volunteer's Farewell to His Mother 139 
 
 The Belle of Ingleside 142 
 
 Los Angles^ Gal 144 
 
 Roosevelt's Charge 146 
 
 California's Welcome to President Roosevelt. . 148 
 
 California 150 
 
 A Trip to Honolulu 153 
 
 King Ned's Special Dispensation 155 
 
 On Seeing a Beautiful Irish Girl Taking a 
 
 Last Farewell of Her Aged Mother 158 
 
 Glengariff's Lovely Bay 161 
 
 My Second Visit to Gougane Barra 163 
 
 The Irish Boer Brigade , . 165 
 
 Comohola 168 
 
 When Papists Could Apply 170 
 
 A Tribute to Timothy Cadogan 175 
 
 FiTZHARRIS 178 
 
 Kruger's Enemy 181 
 
254 BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Leaving Home, August, 1868 185 
 
 A Visit to Glengariff 187 
 
 Easter Greetings to My Dear Children 189 
 
 A Visit to My Sister's Grave in San Francisco, 
 
 Gal., March, 1902 190 
 
 On Board the ''Maine" 191 
 
 Dewey, the Hero 193 
 
 Lady Marjorie Howard 194 
 
 Baby Genevieve 196 
 
 On Board the "Alameda" 197 
 
 On Board the "Majestic" 199 
 
 Sisters Two 200 
 
 A Visit to a Dear Friend's Grave in San Fran- 
 cisco, Gal 202 
 
 Tom's Wedding 203 
 
 In Answer to an Invitation to Father Lynch's 
 
 Silver Jubilee 207 
 
 A "Siberia" Poem , . 208 
 
 Hawaii 210 
 
 Rooky's Bereavement 212 
 
 "Rocky Mountain" O'Brien's Bereavement.... 216 
 
 Hundreds at the Obsequies 220 
 
 A Distinguished Irish-American 221 
 
 "Rocky Mountain" O'Brien Vigorously Resents 
 
 Mr. Dooley's Caricature of the Irish Race. 229 
 "Rocky Mountain" O'Brien — A Fenian, He Was 
 with the Raiders Into Canada and Single- 
 Handed Captured Pigeon Hill — He Has 
 Performed Many Daring Feats and Has 
 
 Been a Soldier in Many Climes 233 
 
 Ireland and Its Possibilities 237 
 
 The United Irish League Public Meeting at 
 
 Dromore 248 
 
LUKE G. LYNCH, 
 
 Buyer and Manager for the 
 
 WOMEN'S AND CHILDREN'S CLOAK, 
 SUIT AND FUR DEPARTMENTS 
 
 IN 
 
 THE BERLIN" 
 
 BROADWAY'S POPULAR 
 DRY GOODS STORE, 
 
 BROOKLYN, NEW YORK 
 
 is a sterling and tincompromising Irishman, a lover 
 of liberty, a hater of despotism, a believer in the 
 Democracy founded by Thomas Jefferson and a 
 disciple of Martyr Robert Emmet, Lord Edward 
 Fitzgerald, Theobald Wolfe Tone and John 
 Mitchell. 
 
 Pay this worthy Son of Erin a visit before 
 purchasing elsewhere. 
 
St. Vincent's 
 Academy 
 
 42 Wallace Place, Newark, N. J. 
 
 UNDERj THE SUPERVISION OF THE 
 
 Sisters sT the Order 
 if St Joseph 
 
 ONE OF THE MOST DESIRABLE 
 
 INSTITUTIONS FORo BOYS 
 
 AND GIRLS IN THE 
 
 UNITED STATES 
 
 High-Class Education 
 
 BOARD AND TUITION 
 VERY MODERATE 
 
OCT 1 1904