IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) / V ^ // m fA o e / ^ w< C?, (/. '% 1.0 I.I 1.25 14; 1128 IIIZ5 1^' I- 1112 13.6 2,2 2.0 1.8 1.4 II 1.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 \ iV ^ ^^ o ;v x^ V 6^ ^/;i»vily •way, Con fearing to lose his way if he vevjy!>.\.u out, although Mrs. Bergen offered to send Palsey with him, " and I'll go bail you'll not go astray while you'll have him with you," said the fond mother, " for though he's not six years old till next Christmas, there's hardly a corner round here bat what he knows. Indeed, they all know the corners too well," she added, mournfully, " for they're on the street most o' their time. Only the weather is against them to-day, we wouldn't have so many o' them in the house. I do what I can to keep them in, but they go in spite o' me when they take the notion." " It's too bad," observed Con, " too bad, altogether. Why, if them chaps were in Ireland, their fathers or mothers would break every bone in their body sooner than let them run on the streets." " Ha ! ha !" cried Patsey from his station behind the stove, " then I'm real glad I wasn't born in Ire- land. Boys a'nt treated so here. There a'nt any whipping allowed here, you know, and I often heard boys say that if Irish "" •ddi'>3 had their way they'd pive their childrea av> iwl us'»gr There now, Jim,' to his lit iu Irclai just as " Hol( " yc"! m W>.Jg." "Yes juvenile the man my bou attitude notwith "We mother silent 8 nothing there a' the Btrj that. Bergen head?' "No "An parenti "W( she sp( that's times \ out of people WIIQIUNT I, FK IX THE NEW WORID. 25 passed >/;t»vi1y le vev)^!». wu out, nd Patsey with tray while you'll 1 mother, " for next Christmas, a bat what he ►rnerstoo well," 3 on the street ,ther is against nany o' them in jp them in, but le the notion." bad, altogether. their fathers or leir body sooner 3 station behind n't born in Ire- There a*nt any id I often heard ieir way they'd icre now, Jim,' to his little brother, " do you hear that ? If wo were iu Ireland, they'd break our bones if wo didn't do just as they'd want ua to." "Hold your tongue, Patsey," said his mother, "yen mustn't talk so; you don't know what you're W) .ag." " Yes, but I do, though," returned the precocious juvenile; "I've got ears, hain't I? and I heard what the man said. I wish any body would try to break my bones, I do !" and he aasumed such a threatening alliLude that Con could not help laughing heartily, notwithstanding his unqualified disgust. «' Well, after that, Mrs. Bergen," said he, while the mother made sundry attempts to coerce the boy into silent subjection, " after that, ma'am, I'll wonder at nothing. If I saw the big Church or Meetin'-house there abroad left sitlin' on its head iu the middle of the street, it wouldn't give me the least surprise after that. Now, just answer me one question, Mrs. Bergen!— is there anything wrong with that child's head?' " Not that I know of." "And is that the way that children talk up to their parents here ?" " Well, sometimes," said Mrs. Bergen, blushing as she spoke. " There's little respect here for parents ; that's a fact. Con, and I declare to you there are times when I'd give the world to be dead and buried, out of the hearin' and seeiu' of my own and other people's children. Ooh ! och ! if we were only a 2G CON o'reoan ; OR, thouBand miles away from this unlucky plase, in Bome town or country where we could brin,f» up our children in the fear and lave of God, as children are brought up in poor old Ireland, and where Paul would be away from the bad company and the cursed taverns, I think I could die with a joyful heart. But no, no, no'' — and at every -word her voice sank lower and lower till it reached a hoare-j whisper — •' no, no, we're bound hand and foot ; we haven't the means now to go anywhere, and God look down on us this sorrowful day !" Con hardly knew what to say, and yet he wished to administer consolation to that breakiag heart. But stranger as he was, and utterly ignorant of Paul Bergen's affairs, how could he pretend to hold out hopes ? Whilst these thoughte were passing through bis mind, a light tap came to the door, and the next moment a soft arm was round his neck, and the gen- tle voice of Winny spoke at his side. "Don't be frightened. Con, it's only me. I'm here far sooner than I expected, for when the mas- ter come to his dinner, I told him about you, and he said he just wanted a stout, active man, for a porter at the present time, and that he would give you a trial. So you see God is good to us — as ho ftlwaj's is," she added, feelingly. " Come, Con, take your hai and we'll go right oft' to the store." ' The store, Winny, what is that ?" " Oh I I forgot," said Winny, with a smile, " that they were all shojps at home. But there's no Buoh thing as their tra how hav added V Jim's ha morning side ?" " Ver; for the often, t! decent, such ind don't bl is good, harm's \ credit U Winn left the deeply walked side, til from a how ho "To it at all. Tm hon for me. me eno " IIu laughin KUIGRAN'T I.TFK IS THE NEW WORLD. 21 ilucky plase, in lid biini;; up our , as children are ind where Paul y and the cursed a joyful heart. i her voice sank loarsT whisper — ; we haven't the >d look down on d yet he wished breaking heart, ignorant of Paul lend to hold out 5 passing through >or, and the next eck, and the gen- e. 8 only tne. I'm r when the mas- 1 about you, and dive man, for a nt he would givo ood to us — aa he Come, Con, take Lhe store." I?" th a smile, " that ; there's no Buoh thing as shops here. Con, except where men work at their trades; it's stores they call the shops. And how have you been since I saw you, Mrs. Bergen ?" added Winny, as she slipped half a dollar into little Jim's hand;" I had hardly time to say a word this morning when I was here. How is the pain in the Hide ?" " Very little better, Winny, many thanks to you for the asking. You don't come to see us very often, though,— but, indeed, it's hard to expect a decent, quiet girl like you to go where you' 11 meet such indifferent company as Paul brings here. So I don't blame you, Winny dear, for I know your heart is good, and I'd be sorry to see you put yourself in harm's way on my account. And your brother's a credit to you, Winny, long may he be so 1" Winny hastily shook hands with Mrs. Bergen, and left the house in silence, fearful to let her see how deeply she felt for her situation. Con and she walked on for some time without a word on either Bide, till at length Winny started, as if awaking from a trance, and asked her brother with a smile how ho liked America, as far as he had seen it ? «* To tell you the truth, Winny, dear, I don't like it at all. If that's the way men live here, the sooner Vm home again in Ballymullen, it'll be all the better for me. Paul Bergen and Tom Derragh have given me enough of America !" " Hut, tut, Con ! don't be foolish," said Winny, laughing ; " you'll see plenty cf our own country 18 CON O'RRnAN : OR, peopU here living as well as heart could v/hh. Paul Bergen and Tom Derragh are bad specimens, suro enough, but don't let them frighten you out of your Benees." " But what evil spirit gets into them," persisted Con, " tliat they can't keep from tippling, an' theui left) home to make the better of it in a strange country ? Just look at that decent woman of Paul Bergen'd, siltin' there perishiu' with cold half of her time, and lookiu' the picture of starvation, au' him- self with a face as red as a turkey's head. And such a line family as they have of clean, likely chil- dren — but sure they're a-rearlng up for the devil — God forgive me for sayiu' so ! And then, Tom Der- ragh — to see a fine able young man like him with out a shilling hardly to jingle on a tombstone, after being ten years in America 1" " Well, well, Con, never mind," said his sister, coaxingly, " you and I will have a different story to tell a few years hence, with the help of God I I've a thousand questions to ask you, but we haven't time now, for here's Mr. Coulter's store. Now mind your p's and y's, Con, — the master is a very good sort of a man, if he finds people to his liking. He'll be at you at first about your religion, but never mind him, his bark ia worse than his bile. Just keep your temper, and let him talk away, afier a while he'll get tired of it, when he sees he can make nothing of you, and he'll think all the more of you in the end for being steadfast in your own re- ligion. though 1 in now, a man. there's i "God voice, a range tl it dowr over hii ded app Mr. C tached ' cntrauo( his banc spectac! "So 1 gentlem friend C " Yes anythinj thankfu time be aii:jvver " Hui Mr. Coi in Engl nacular look at fruiting uld wiHh. Paul Bpeciinens, suro you out of your [letn," persisted ipling, an' tbeiii it in a Blrange woman of Paul cold half of her vation, au' him- y's hend. And ean, likely chil- for the devil — then, Tom Der- like him with ombHlone, after said bis sister, liferent story to of God! I've but we haven't 'fl store. Now laster is a very lie to his liking, ir religion, bub ) than bis bite, talk away, after he sees he can all the more of Q your own re« EUiaRANT UFR IN THE NEW WORLD. 29 ligion. He's a real, good-hearted man at bottom, though he does seem a little rough at times. Come in now, in God's name, and hold up your head liko a man. Don't bo down-hearted, Con dear, for there's no fuar but you'll do well." " God send it, Winny !" said her brother, in a low voice, as Winny stopped him at the door to ar- range the collar of his coat and brush the back of it down with her hand. Having glanced rapidly- over his costume to see that all was right, hhe nod- ded approvingly, a id in they went. Mr. Coulter was behind his desk in the office at.- tached to his wholesale Avarehouse, but on Winny'a entrance with her brother, he came forward, wJth his hands in his pockets, and a pair of gold-mounted spectacles thrown up on his forehead. " So this is your biolher, Winny ? ' said the old gentleman, fixing a keen and practised eye on our friend Con. " Yes, sir, this is ray brother, and if you can find anything for him to do, both him and I will bo very titankful. Being a stranger here, he might be some time before he'd get a situation, and that wouldn't answer him at all." " Hump ! his funds are rather low, I presume 1" Ml'. Coulter never guessed. He had been educated ill England, and had a great contempt for all ver- nacular corruptions of his mother tongue. Another look at Con, who stood with his hat in his liaod waiting for any direct address to himself. 80 CON REGAN : OR, •* You're only just come out, young man !" said the merchant at length. " Just landed yesterday, sir.'' " You seem a fine hearty young fellow. What can you do ?" " Farming, sir, was what I was best used to, but I'm afeard there's little of that to be done here, so I'm willing to try my hand at anything else." " So far good, and what about religion ?" — tliis was said with a kind of smile that might be inter- preted in various ways — " 1 suppose you're a Papist, are you?" «' I'm a Catholic, sir." " I thought as much. Humph !" Here another pause, during which Mr. Coulter put his hands be- hind his back, and walked a few paces to and fro. Con ventured to break silence with : " But sure, sir, that has nothing to do with my work. If you'll give me a trial I hope you'll not have reason to be dissatisfied, for I'll do my best, and wo have a saying, sir, where I come from, that best can do no more." " Yes, but I do not like to have Catholics in my employment, — you needn't smile, Winny, you know I speak the truth, although yoii'vo been in my family so many years — the fact is, young man, I have part- ners hero who will hardly believe that Irishmen, and especially Irish Papists, can be trusted to any ex- tent. Whether their views are correct is not the question, but these gentlemen keep me in h(jt water while They glassei Now, precio than the fi your 1 "Y "\\ pleasi cross pie jv their warn leave to be an Iri "V I'll d< the o warn of an Th smile "He took told if he ♦'I man !" said the fellow. What St tised to, but »e done here, so ng else." •eligion ?" — this might be inter- you're a Papist, Here another t his hands be- ces to and fro. to do with ray lope you'll not ['11 do my best, jome from, that I!atholic8 in my nny, you know en in my family in, I have i)art- tt Irishmen, and 3ted to any ex- rect is not the me in hot water EMIGBAXT LIFR IN THE NEW WORLD. 81 while ever there is one of you about the concern. They always see your faults through magnifying glasses, and are slow to acknowledge your merits Now, although I am the head of the house, I like a precious sight better to have things go on quietly than to be continually exercising my authority in the firm. I hate contentions, young man— what's your name — O'liegan, of course ?" " Yes, sir, Con 6'Regan," with a low bow. " Well, Con, are you willing to run the risk of pleasing my partners ? for myself, although I am a cross old fellow at times, I am willing to treat peo- ple just as they deserve, without much regard to their creed or country. But if you come here, I warn you in time what you have to expect. If yoa leave yourself open in any way to censure, I am sure to be blamed for having taken it upon me to employ an Irish Papist." " Well, sir, I can only say, as I said before, that I'll do my bf'f^. and ii' I don't give satisfaction to the other geiitlemen, you can send me off at a day's warning, for, God knows, I wouldn't be the cause of any dissension— no, not for a mint of money." The old gentleman rubbed his hands briskly, smiled and nodded to Winny, as much as to say : " He'll pass muster, Winny— I know he will !" then took his station once more behind the desk, and told Con he might come to the store next morning, if ho ohose. ♦' I will then, sir, and thank you kindly. I don'l m want to lose one day, if God leaves me iny health." " Very well, Con, we'll begin with six dollars a week, and .you'll make yourself generally useful at any branch of the business." "Anything — anything you please, sir — God bless you, sir !" " I say, Winny," said Mr. Coulter, calling after them to the door, "you'll just take your brother home and give him a comfortable supper. Aud, do you hear, Winny, see that he don't take up his lodg- ing in any of those vile, low places, where he would be sure to meet with bad company. Take him to Borne quiet, decent boarding-house." " I will, sir, thank you," said Winny, unable to say more in the fulness of her gratitude. " Long life to your honor," cried Con, as they bowed themselves out; " may you never know the want of a friend — an' please God you never will ! Why, Winny," said he, when they had Reached the street, " that's a mighty fine old gentleman — not the least cross !" " Oh, well, he seems to have taken a likmg to you. Con, thanks be to God for that same, but, at any rale, he's very friendly aud good-natured. Tlie mistress is not quite so good as he is, but you'll have nothing to do with her. So much the better for you." " But, Winny, what fine wages he's giving me I" ■aid Cod, pursuiug the train of his own pleasant thought and the "Not with a good wl them all mannget now, hei door, wt lighting went up sent her While si neat, ooi tion not were ma to him. Mrs. C safe arrii nified he with. T poor Wii ticular ti poiir itst seen. B ground, lady was intention and app caves me my 1 six dollars a jrally useful ai, sir — God bk'ss r, caU'mg after your brother iper. Aud, do ke up bis lodg- rhere be would Take bim to nny, unable to tde. i Con, aa they iver know thu au never will ! id /cached the emau — not the m a liking to p same, but, at naturcd. Tliu i is, but you'll ich the better '» giving me !" own pleasant CMIORAKT MFR IN THE NKW WORLD. 88 thonghts. «' Why, I'll be able to send for Biddy and the children in less than no time." " Not so soon as you think, Con," said Winny, with a smile full of affection, " it will take you a good while to put as much together as will bring them all out. But, after all, with industry and good manftgement, the time will soon come round. Hush, now, here's the house." They went in by the area door, which Winny opened with a latch-key. After lighting the fire and setting on the tea-kettle^ she went up to tell her mistress that Mr. Coulter had sent her brother home with her to get his supper. While she was gone. Con sat looking around at the neat, comfortable kitchen with feelings of admira- tion not unmixed with simple curiosity, for there were many things there whose use was a mystery to him. Mrs. Coulter was mightily pleased to hear of the safe arrival of Winny's brother, and graciously sig- nified her intention to go down and see him forth- with. This was a piece of condescension which poor Winny could well have excused at that par- ticular time, when her heart was full, and longed to poiir itsfcif out to that beloved brother so long un- seen. But, of course, this was kept in the back- ground, and Winny thanked her mistress. That lady was not slow in aooomplishing her benevolent Intention. Down she sailed to the lower regions, and appeared before the visual orbs of Con u CON o'beoan ; OB, O'llegan, filim, and tall, and Btately, and looking as like mummy as living woman might. Con rose and greeted the lady with his best bow, and then remained standing until Mrs. Coulter politely requested him to be seated, she herself tak- ing her stand in front of the brightly-polished stove, through the grate of which a clear coal fire was seen sending up its flame to the bottom of the kettle aforesaid. Winny went to work at once to make some hot rolls for tea. " And so you've engaged with Mr. Coulter, Con, (for such, I find, is your name) ?" " Yes, ma'am, I'm proud to say I have." «' Well, now, I hope you'll try and keep your situation. It is a very rare thing, indeed, for Irish- men to do well here, and on Winny's account, I should liko you to do well. Winny is a good girl, although she is Irish. And now let me give you a piece of advice. My husband, Mr. Coulter, is a very good sort of man— in his own way— but you will Bometimea find him.rough and hot-tempered. Poor man ! he means well, I believe, but he ia not blessed with vital rel\;ion— that explains all, you see." It did nut explain it to Con's satisfaction, inasmuch as he had never heard of such a thing as vital reli- gion, but he continued to listen attentively in hopes of some more tangible explanation of what the good l»dy was driving at. " Thia hint may serve you in good stead," went oo Mrs. C( Bufficieo Holy \N benight to arou band's i duct. J friend, 1 garment more be roy are minds o is, even will supj " In a' "Wei oommod "Oh, " ueithei ing here be askin house, depeudii out here and plea " Verj him afte seasonal Atthi think, A) nd looking aa i 1)18 best bow, Mra. Coulter ihe herself tak- ightly-polished clear coal fire bottom of tbo )rk at once to •. Coulter, Con, have." and keep your ideed, for Irish- my's account, I y is a good girl, me give you a Soulier, is a very Y — but you will empered. Poor but he is not explains all, you faction, inasmuch ling as vital reli- entively in hopes of what the good i stead," went oo KMIORAN'T LIFE THE NEW WORLD. 85 Mrs. Coulter, " seeing that ' a word to the wise is sufficient for them,' but, alas ! I fear the language of Holy Writ is new to your ears, coming from poor benighted Ireland. However, you will endeavor not to arouse the old unsubdued Adam in my poor hus- band's nature by any thoughtless or unseemly con- duct. And now that I am admonishing you as t friend, I would advise you to lay aside those shaggy garments of yours, and provide yourself with clothes more becoming a civilized land. Frieze and cordu- roy are unfortunately associated with Popery in the minds of Christian people, and as your outward man is, even so will you be judged. Winny, how soon will supper be ready ?" " In about 1 alf an hour, ma'am." " Well, Con," said Mrs. Coulter, " we have no ac- commodation for you here, I regret to say." "Oh, ma'am," said Winny, hastily interposing, " neither my brother nor I ever dreamed of his stay- ing here. As soon as I wash up the tea-things 1 11 be asking leave to go and settle him in a boarding- house. Oh dear, no! ma'am, he don't want to be depending on any one, not even on me. He camo out here to earn a living for himself and his family, and please God he'll be able to do it." "Very good, indeed, Winny; you may go with him after tea, of course, but sec that you return in seasonable time." At this Winny was somewhat -tsttled. "I don't think, Mrs. Coulter, you ever kneir me to spend au M; CON o'bfgas ; OK, evening out of your bouse since I came to it, I thank God I have as much regard for my character M any one else. Still Im thankful to you for your good advice, whether I need it or not." "Mrs. Coulter then sailed out of the kitchen and up stairs again, leaving iho brother and sister at last to the free interchange of their feelings and affections. « And now that we can speak a word between our- selves," said Winny, "how are you off for money, Con ?— have you any at all left ?" " Well, not much ; but still I'm not entirely run out. We had a good deal of expense, you see, with doctors an' one thing an' another, so that I had just enough to bury my mother decently, an' thankful I was for thnt same." " What did you say?" cried Winny, dropping the dish-towel from her hand, and sinking on a seat pale as death. " Is my mother dead, then ?" Con was thunderstruck. He had quite forgotten that Winny was as yet ignorant of her mother'^ death, and he had alluded to it inadvertently. But it was too late to prevaricate now. The mournful tidings must come out, and he addressed himself to the task with desperate resolution. " She is, Winny dear, may the Lord in Heaven have mercy on her soul ! I didn't mean to tell you •o suddenly, Winny, but it can't be helped now, and, beside*, you'd have to know it some time. Three month* ago, when the long summer days were in it Ml' the grass was green, we laid her in my father*« grave have n world, ger, or either, to prep comfor for her have d( giving that sh dream eased 1 Blesaec her not protect now, \' I'm gla heart, what t< our mo — Bure "Ob wouldi mothei when I all be comeo any W( hard ei KUIGRANT I.IFK I.V THE NEW WORLD. sr ame to it. I ■ my character you for your e kitchen and d eister at laat and affections. i between our- off for money, ot entirely rnn I, you eee, with that I had just , an' thankful I r, dropping the 7 on a seat pale quite forgotten if her mother'b vertently. But The mournful ssed himself to jord in Heaven nean to tell you lelped now, and, ae time. Three days were in it Br in my father** grave back of Kilshannon Chapel. But sure we have no reason to repine, for she's gone to a better world, Winny, where she'll never feel cold or hun- ger, or sorrow any more. She wasn't taken short, either, thanks be to God I — she had a reasonable time to prepare, and your money provided her with eve "y comfort in her last sickness. Biddy did all she could for her ; if she had been her own child she couldn't have done more. She died as easy as a child, after giving us all her blessing. Her only trouble was that she couldn't get a sight of you, but she had a dream about you the very night before she died that eased her mind all of a sudden. She thought the Blessed Virgin came to her in her sleep, and told her not to fret about you, that you were under her protection, and that there was no fear of you. There now, Winny dear — don't cry that way — and still I'm glad to see you cryin', for it'll relieve your poor heart. You looked so wild at first that I didn't know what to do or say. Sure you wouldn't wish to have our mother back again in this troublesome world ? — »ure you wouldn't now, Winny ?" " Oik no, no," said the heart-struck mourner, " that wouldn't be right, but, then, to think that I hare no mother — that's the thought that kills me, Con — just when I was planuin', day and night, how happy we'd all be when her and Biddy and the children would come out next spring or fall ! Sure I never grudged any work I had to do, thoagh God knows it WM hard enough at times, because I thought it was for 8^: COS o'rEGAN ; OR, my mother I was earnin', and my greatest comfort was that she didn't know how poorly I felt at times, and how ill able I was to work. And, then, I was always thinking of the happy days we'd have to- gether, but now— now— that's all over— I'll never, never see her again in this world,— an' I've no one to work for now !" Throwing her apron over her head, as if to shut out a world that was now hateful to her, the poor girl wept and sobbed for some time unrestrainedly, for Con thought it best to let her cry it out. After awhile, however, he ventured to put in a word of remonstrance, his own tears flowing fast as he spoke. " I declare now, Winny, " I'll leave the place, so I will, if you keep crying that way. It's thankful you'll b« that your mother's gone to rest, when once you get over the first heavy sorrow. So dry up yonr tears, Winny, and let us talk the matter over quietly." «' But, tell me, Con," said his sister, utcovering her face, and making an effort to restrain her tears, " tell me, did you get any Masses said for her ?" " We did, indeed, Winny. Father Halligan said four Masses for her, besides the one that his curate. Father McDonnell, said the day of the funeral. And there wasn't a charity that Biddy gave since her death but was given with that intention. Oh I we didn't forget her, Winny; indeed we didn't. As f»r as our means would allow us, we done our duty.'' ««Welll God bless you for that same," sobbed Winny, "I know Biddy was ever and always a good daugh you, C part o: be th£ wring! weepii resting wonde "W mystei all roa mothe know you re was a for Di| ^eard "W it, and death! But n( The tily w: man's else, s( As f room, being the re EMIORANT LIFE IN THE NEW TTOKLD 8f satest comfort [ felt at times, d, then, I was we'd have to- er— I'll never, ,n' I've no one proD over her Eis now hateful for some time t to let her cry ntured to put TS flowing fast, the place, so I thankful you'll vben once you dry up your ir over quietly." er, uticovering train her tears, i for her ?" f Halligan said that his curate, e funeral. And gave since her ation. Oh! we we didn't. As ione our duty.'' same," sobbed 1 always a good daughter-in-law — may the Lord reward her f and for you, Con, I don't need to be told that you acted the part of a good son. But oh ! oh ! can it be — can it be that my mother is dead — dead and gone ?" and wringing" her hands, she burst into a fresh fit of weeping. Con could advise no better moans of ar- resting thiri torrent of grief than by exciting Winny's wonder, which he happily had it in his power to do. " What do you think, Winny," he said, in a low, mysterious, voice, " but we heard the Banshee cryin' all round the house for three nights before my poor mother died I It's truth I tell you, Winny. Yoa know the Banshee follows the O'Connor family — you remember poor Aunt Aileen that died when she was a slip of a girl, and how the Banshee was heard for nights and nights before her death. You never ieard the Banshee, Winny ?" " No, but I often heard others say they did." " Well, sure enough, this was the first lime / heard it, and I hope it will be the last ; it's such a lonesome, deathly cry, that it makes a body shiver all over. Bat none of ua saw her, thanks be to God !" The door-bell then rang loudly, and Winny has- tily wiped her eyes to admit her master. The old man's mind was happily taken up with something else, so that Winny's swollen eyes passed unnoticed. Aa soon as she had left up the tea in the dining- room, Winny hastenea to give Con bis supper, being anxious to get him off to his new home before the return of the hoasemud, who was spending tb« 40 CON o'bbgan ; oa. evening out, and whose croas-examinationehe wished to avoid in the present state of her mind. To her mistress she said nothing as to what she had heard, for Mrs. Coulter had that measured and staid character which belongs to New England ladies, and the cold, formal accents of her condo- lence would have fallen drearily on the fervent heart of the Irish girl. " No ! no !" thought Winny, as she looked at her, seated at the head of her tea- table, dispensing its comforts to her family with as much stiffness and formality as could possibly be thrown into the occasion; " no, no— the look of her is enough to turn one's heart into ice ; she'd be only teasing me with useless questions; but, please God ! I'll tell the master as soon as I get a chance. God bless his kind heart, with all his roughness, a body can't help warming to him." As soon as she possibly could, after supper, Winny put on her bonnet and shawl, and sallied forth with Con in quest of a boarding-house. She knew of several kept by acquaintances of her own, but there were many points to be considered in a matter whose consequences might be so important both for time and eternity. The choice of a board- ing house seems a small thing, but it very often de- cides the fate of a stranger arriving in a place where all is new to him, and where he has to make, not only friends, but acquaintances. The character of his associates is, then, of the last importance, wad may influence his whole after-life, whether for good O! fully sei and mu family widow i who coi by the was nea on the ' £««|^(iUirW^t»?M'--' .ionehe wished lind. IS to what she measured and New England of her condo- n the fervent lought "Winny^ jad of her tea- family with as Id possibly be ihe look of her ; she'd be only at, please God ! % chance. God ghness, a body !, after supper, twl, and sallied ing-honse. She 368 of her own, considered in a te so important oice of a board- t very often do- ing in a plaoe he has to make, The character last importance, life, whether for IMIOBAKT UFE IN THE NBW WORLD. 41 good or ill. Happily, both Winny and Con were fully sensible of this, and after some consideration, and much consullation, Con was received into the family of a certain Mrs. Maloney, a respectable widow from the next parish to that of BallymuUen, who contrived to support herself and three children by the profits of her boarding-house. The house was neat and clean, although scantly furnished, and, on the whole, Con thought the choice a good one. it OOW 0*KKGAN : 01% CHAPTER III. Con O'Reoan was early at hia post next morning equipped in a suit of working-clothes, purchased by himself and Wiuny over-night, and having announced himself as a new hand, was employed by the other men in one way or another till the arrival of Mr. Coulter, who made his appearance about eight o'clock. One of the partners came in soon after, and imme- diately noticed Con, who was wheeling out some empty boxes on a truck. " I say, Mr. Coulter, who is that man that I just mot at the door ?" " Can't say," returned the senior partner, drily ; «' how should I know who you met at the door ?" «' Oh ! I mean the man who is taking out those boxes. I never saw him before." "Very likely. That's a man whom I engaged yesterday to assist in the warehouse. He'll make a capital porter, after a while." «' Yes, but aint ho Irish ? I thought we were to have no more of them here. We have quite too many as it is." «' I don't know as to that," said Mr. Coulter, with ft sagacious shake of the head, and speaking very •lowly work t For m; ploymi you m genera way tr well ai obligit] there i "Th that til that tl honors "Hi ders, " other Just 1< and se "Y( Coultc sarcas last s] Ameri "M ble ol( my coi ami; what'i "W EMIGRANT UrE IN THE NEW WORLD. 4S t next morning I, purchased by ving announced 3d by the other arrival of Mr. )ut eight o'clock. ,fler, and imme- leliug out Bome man that I just p partner, drily; at the door ?" .akiflg out those hom I engaged e. He'll make a aght we were to 5 have quite too ^r. Coulter, with ,d speaking very •lowly ; " I think where there is question of hard work there are none to come up to those very Irish. For my part, I have had many of them in my em- ployment during the last twenty years, and 1 tell you now, as I often told you before, that I have generally found them industrious, sober, and every way trustworthy. And, then, you know yourself as well as I do, that they are much more civil and obliging. I can't for the life of me see why it is that there is such an outcry against them." "There, now," said Pirns, eagerly, ".you admit that there is an outcry against them, and that proves that they deserve it. Americans are too fair and too honorable to condemn men without sufficient cause.'' " Humph !" said Mr. Coulter, shrugging his shoul- ders, " there's one great property we have above all other people — that of blowing our own trumpet. Just let this poor Irishman alone — ^give him fair play, and see if he don't do his duty." " You have certainly a strange way of talking, Mr. Coulter," said the other, reddening with anger at the sarcasm so bluntly conveyed in the first clause of the last speech. " You, at least, have not much of the American about you." " Maybe yes and maybe no," said the imperturba- ble old man ; " I'm not bound to follow the mass of my countrymen, or uphold them when they do wrong, am I ? — I have a mind of my own, Master Pirns, and what's more, I mean to have it as long as I live." " Well ! well !" cried Pirns, pettiahly, " keep it and u CON o'nEGAN ; OB, welcome, but I do wish you would oonsnlt Mr Wood and myself before you draw those ignorant, hard- headed Irish Papists about us. Just at a time, too, when every respectable house in the city, indeed all New England over, is making it a point to get rid of them. It ill becomes us to give such an example." " Hear him now I" said Coulter, as he turned the key in the lock of the office door, " what a fuss he makes about nothing I If you don't want to keep the young man here, I'll pay him out of my own pocket, and employ him on private business of my own. So let there be no more about it." "Oh! as to that, Mr. Coulter, I guess neither Wood nor myself thinks any more of a few dollars a week than you do — it's the principle for which I contend." The old gentleman threw back the office door with a loud bang, muttering something very like a consignment of his Know-Nothing partner (for there were Know-Nothings then as well as now, dear reader,) to the safe keeping of a most unpopu- lar individual commonly known as " Old Nick," whereupon Pima, seeing that his blood was up, thought proper to betake himself to an upper loft where he wns wont to exercise his authority. ' Happily there were none of the obnoxious race to arouse his kindling ire, for good Mr. Coulter con* trived to keep all the Irishmen in the concern about himself, with the kindly intention of screening them, as much as might be, from the over-watchful KMIORANT UFK IS THE NBW WORLD. 45 alt Mr. Wood Ignorant, hard- at a time, too, ;ity, indeed all )iut to get rid h an example." be turned the what a fuBfl he want to keep It of my own (usinesB of my it." guess neither f a few dollars lie for which I he office door ing very like a ; partner (for ( well as now, k most unpopu- "Old Kick," blood was up, 9 an upper lol^ his authority, oxious race to T. Coulter con* I concern about I of screening e over-watohful distrust of the junior partners, and the contempt, uous dislike of the clerks. As for Con O'Regan, he applied himself heart and soul to please his employers. Being warned, and, therefore, half armed, by the friendly advice of Mr. Coulter, he took care to leave nothing in the power of those who would desire nothing more than to find some plausible excuse for condemning him. " Well ! it is hard enough, too," would he some- times think as bo wound his way to his lodging- house after a day of hard, unremitting toil; " here am I and three or four other poor Irishmen work- ing like slaves from morning till night, doing all we can to please, and never getting one word of praise or encouragement from Monday morning till Satur- day night, for even Mr. Coulter, God bless him I hardly ever speaks to us, unless to give us some orders. And then, if the least thing goes wrong with any of the gentlemen, we're all kept in hot water ; it's nothing then but ' stupid Irish' and ' ig- norant Paddies,' and the hardest names they can think of for us. Well ! God be with poor old Ire- land, anyhow !" nnd Con would invariably end his cogitations with a heavy figh. Very soon after he engaged in the warehouse of Coulter, Pirns dk Co., he went one eveping to see Winny, who contrived as soon as she well could to send Leah, the housemaid, up stairs to do some- thing for the young ladies. The coast thus clear she hastened to profit by the opportunity. u CON o'reqan ; OR, " And now, Con," said "Winiiy, placing a chair fof her brother near to where she sat, plucking a goose, •'and now. Con, how do you like your new situa- tion? I was thinking long to see you ever since, bat couldn't manage to get out, for we had a good deal of company here." She did not tell her brother what she knew would only fret him, that amid all this bustle her health was Tory indifferent, so that she had been at times hardly able to ho4d up her head. " Well ! on the whole, I can't complain, Winny, though, to tell you the truth, I don't feel at home in it. I know I'm earning far more than I could do in Ireland, but somehow — " he paused, cleared his throat, and then went on in a quick, tremulous voice, " but somehow — I know it's foolish in rae to say so after coming so far to make money — but there's nothing like the truth — I'd rather do with less at home in Ireland, for, after all, Winny dear, • home's homely,' and it's true enough what I heard the ladies and gentlemen singing oflen up at the big house, — ' Be it ever so humb'.e there's no place like home.' " Winny smiled, but her smile was mournful, for her heart had often echoed that sentiment in the loneliness of her dark cellar-kitchen during the five long years she had been from home. Often, when her heart was full even to overflowing, without one near of her own race or her own religion to whom ■he C( ing tl woal( of Ihi whosi trial 1 So but it laugh II ■y you l you oours your it's b Bidd; "T many altog no! ] have they for a1 agaio II ( bad i "I I cou mgo seen EMIGRANT LITE IN THE NEW WORLD. iT g a chair fo» cing a goose, r new situa- 1 ever Bince, 3 bad a good knew would e her health een at times ilain, Winny, 3I at home in [ could do in cleared his Ic, tremulous lish in me to money — but iher do with Winny dear, what I heard m up at the e home.' " mournful, for iment in the dring the five Often, when , without one ion to whom the could impart even a portion of her overwhelm* ing thoughts and feelings, she felt as though words would have been too small a purchase for one sight of the loved ones far away beyond the great ocean whose terrors she had braved to come to a land " of trial and unrest." So she keenly felt the truth of what Con said, but it did not suit her to say so, and she tried to laugh him out of his melancholy. " Why, Con, are you home-sick already ? — didn't you know well enough before you left home that you were coming to a strango country, and, of course, you couldn't expect to find all things to your liking anywhere you'd go ? but sure, after all, it's but natural for you to be sorrowful — you have Biddy and the children to think of." " Well, I don't deny but what I think of them many's the time," returned Con, " but it isn't that altogether that makes me feel so strange here — oh, no ! I'd get over that in time, for, please God, we'll have them out before very long, but it's the way they have here of treating Irishmen like dogs, just for all the world as if we were forcing in on them against their will." " Oh now. Con," put in Winny, " it's hardly so bad as that. Don't be makin' it worse than it is." " I'm not makin' it worse, Winny ! I wish to God I could tell a better story, but there's no use blind- mg our own eyes. Short time as I'm here, I have seen plain enough that Americas very difierenl 48 COK o'BEaAN ; OB, from what we thought it was. Why, don't you r» member, Winny, how the people used to say at home, and ourselves amongst the rest, that there was no difference made here between Catholic and Protestant, or Irishman and Englishman — no mat- ter where they came from, or who they were, we thought they were all welcome here, and that cead mille failthe was the word to all strangers. Ah I Winny, Winny, weren't them mighty fine drames entirely ? Isn't it a thousand pities that they're all gone before we're long in America ?" " Well ! well I Con," said Winny, as she proceeded to the stove to singe her goose, " there's no use in lookin' back. Look straight before you, man, and try to make the best of it, now that you are here." " That's just what I mean to do, with God's assist- ance. You know what we used to read in our Manson's Spelling-book long ago : ' Faint heart never won fair lady' — so I suppose the fair hdy means good luck as well, and I've made up my miud to luxve good luck, or I'll know for what. But do you know, Winny, it pulls my courage down a peg when I think of all our friends and neighbors that are here so many years and have so little by them." " Oh nonsense, Con, how could you expect such men as Paul Bergen and Tom Derragh to have either money or value ?" " No more I don't ; it's not of them I'm tbinkiog, for I see plain enough that the fault is mostly their own, b and a g sober, \ and the that tJie they li^ downiij only fr( every p This is the moi think ii for it's the doo "We cheerful was he: present! appearc but just I hear I Havii dressed his way the wa] used to thoughl and be: in her f what's ( KMIGRANT LIFE tN THK NEW WORLD. 49 lon't you r» id to say at I, that there Catholic and an — no mat- ley were, we ,nd that cead ingers. Ah i fine drames at they're all le proceeded e's no use in ou, man, and )u are here." God's assist- read in our Faint heart he fair lady made up my r what. But rage down a nd neighbors I so little by expect such agh to have I'm thinking, mostly iheir own, but there's James Reilly and Pat Mulvany, and a good many others that we both know, steady, sober, bard-working men — they were that at home, and they're just the same here — well, I don't see that they're any better off than the others. It's true they live better, and their families are not in real downright hardship, like Paul Bergen's, but still ii's only from hand to month with them, and it takes every penny they can make to keep things square. This is what disheartens me at times, Winny, a 1 the more I think of it, it's all the worse. But think it's gettin' late, and I'll have to be up early, for it's me that takes down the shutters and opens the doors this last fortnight or so." " Well, then, you'd better go," said Winny, in aa cheerful a tone as she could command, for her heart was heavy with the home-truths which Con had presented more clearly to her mind than they ever appeared to her before. *' It's nearly nine o'clock, but just wait a minute till you bid Leah good night, I hear her foot stealing down the stairs." Having shaken hands with the prim and neatly- dressed Leah, and wished her good night. Con took his way to bis home for the time being, thinking all the way that Winny didn't look at all like what she used to do. " She used to be as merry as a kitten," thought he, " and as red as a rose ; now she's dull and heavy, and melancholy-like, with no mure color in her fkce than there is in a whin-stone. And then what's come of the fine Sunday clothes she said she M CON O^RIOAN ; OR, had ? ne'er a one of them has myself seen, though we went to Mass together every Sunday since I came. Ah. Winny, poor Winny ! I'm afeard it's what you left yourself bare and naked to send homo money! and I suppose il*8 often the same story might be told of them that sends home money to Ireland !'• It was only a few days after this visit to Winny that Con was invited by one Phil McDermot to a dance at his house, and Con, elated vfiih the thoughts of meeting many old acquaintances, as he was assured he would, went to Mr. Coulter's that same evening to ask Winuy to accompany him on the following evening. Great was his surprise when Winny shook her head and told him she couldn't go, and what was more, she didn't want to go. " Why, sure you're not in earnest, Winny," and Con opened his eyes to their fullest extent ; " what would ail you but you'd go ? I'm sure there s no one in more need of a little diversion than you are, and what's more, I'll not go a step without you. So go you must !" «' No, nor yott'll not go either, Con— at least with my will, an' I think you'll hardly go against it." * Con's snrmWe was perfectly correct, as all who take an Inr terest iu the IiUh in America can truly testify. Wo have all of us known numerous instances of poor servant girls send- ing home several pounds in the course of a couple of years, from an average wages of /lr« dollart a mouth. Con detect smile, I graver "I'm very, v You ki and all home, { one tha thinks ( there's than ai Timlin on any "W< to go n with y< "Jui giving myself about i heart." "Bu Con, Bl "Lei with s( his net the lik< boy an EKIORA.VT MFE IN THE NEW WORLD. 61 If seen, tbongh Junday since I ['m afeard il'a d to send homo ,he same Btory B home money visit to Winny kIcDermot to a lated With the aintances, as he . Coulter's that ompany him on ts his surprise 1 told him she 3 didn't want to St, Winny," and extent ; " what sure there 8 no on than you are, vithout you. So >n — at least with ) against it." I all who take an in- r testify. We have ir servant girU send- a couple of years, outh. Con looked hard .it Winny, to see if he could detect even the 8li<;htest semblance of a lurking Bmiie, but there was none ! Winny's face was even graver than usual, as she said : " I'm quite in earnest. Con. These dances are very, very bad places of resort for young people. You know the penny dances, and the barn-dances and all such things were forbidden by the clergy at home, an* it's ten times worse they are here. No one that wants to keep up a decent character ever thinks of going to a dance of this kind. They say there's more mischief done at them night-dances than anywhere else. I might never face Father Timlin if I went, and besides I wouldn't go myself on any account, when I know it's wrong to do it." " Well ! but sure it wouldn't be any great harm to go now, Winny, when you'd have your brother with you ?" " Just as mi ch harm as if I weut alone, for I'd be giving yon an 1 others bad example, and putting myself and you, too, in harm's way, so say no more about it, Con, if you don't wish to grieve me to the heart." " But what will Phil McDerraot say ?'• persisted Con, still hardly convinced. " Let him say what he pleases," returned Winny, with some sharpness. " He wanted to get you into his net, as he has got many another. Ii'ti him and the like of him that ruins many and many a decent boy and girl, enticing them into all sorts of bad 01 CON o'rman ; on, company for the sake of selling their dirty drop of poisonous liquor. They'll come to them with a friendly word and a deceitful smile, and talk to them about home, till they make them b'Ueve they're the best friends they have in the world, an' all the time they'd sell them body and soul for sixpence Say to Phil McDermot, indeed ! just say nothing at r11, but keep away from him altogether. If you don't b'lieve me, just ask the priest the first time you go to confession, au'/you'll see what he'll say to you 1" " That's enough, Winny dear," said Con eagerly, seeing that his sister appeared rather annoyed at his pertinacity ; " think no more about it, and nei- ther will I. What the clergy set their face against must bo bad everywhere, so I'll have nothing to do with these dances." " God bless you. Con," said Winny fervently, her large dark eyes filling with tears of joy and affec- tion ; " you'll never be sorry for making that promise, if yon have the grace to keep it. I know you were a great dancer at home, but keep from it here, Con, for it's diflFerent company you'd meet altogether." So the brother and sister parted for that time, and Con went home well satisfied with himself, and grateful to Winny for her watchful solicitude. The following day passed away without any re- markable occurrence, and as evening drew near. Con could not help thinking of the dance. Dancing had, for years, been his favorite amusement, and whether tt was "the was Ic very t then L vice, t forC( or pul demni rality. thefl( ward under wife 1 of be: God, himse be abl in the put al notsf ♦Th land fi of the Derail) tome t fDi Irelain all the who, ' Uie cal KMIGRANT I.IFR IX THE NBW TTORI.D. M r dirty drop of 3 them with a le, and talk to a Vlieve they're orld, an' all the ttl for §ixpence t Bay nothing at gether. If you jt the first time what he'll say to lid Con eagerly, Lher annoyed at bout it, and nei- heir face against ^e nothing to do oy fervently, her of joy and affeo- ing that promise, L know yon were rom it here. Con, let altogether." d for that time, with himself, and solicitude. without any re- g drew near. Con le. Dancing had, lent, and whether tt was at " patron,"* wedding, or in competition for " the cake,"t Con was always first on the list It was long since he had had " a good dance," ani the very thought of it made him step more lightly, but then he could not think of disregarding Winny's ad- vice, enforced as it was by the precepts of religion, for Con knew very well that night-dances in taverns or public houses were everywhere and always con- demned by the Church as inimical to Christian mo- rality. So Con nlanfully put away his longings after the flesh-pots of Egypt, and sent his thoughts home- ward over the sea to the little thatched cottage under the sycamore tree, where he had left his young wife and her two little ones in anxious expectation of being sojn sent for to America. And, please God, they'll not have to wait long," said Con v^ithin himself; " if I only keep my earnings together, I'll bo able to get them out next spring, or at farthest in the fall, and won't we be all happy then ? So I'll put all these foolish thoughts out of my mind, and not spend a shilling that I C4q help till I have enough * The famoaa annnal leaUrals he'd in the raral parts of Ire- land from time immemorial, on the feast of the Patron Saint of the pariah. The dance ia always held in the open air, ge« Derail; at some crots-roadi, or on the smooth green sward of some tequeslered vale. f D€h lady — Bare it's Nora, he must /ill do bitn no 3 botberin' mo ion't you want over the sense- lame dislinclly ps, held by the her, while the away, crying : h. Lord ! you'll " don't you see honey — I tell less, wrung her low seat at the ag up a piteous such distress, irm around her It way, though wn pretty eyes, tion to his son, ) laid his head you unhappy ;o to sleep now. your business." And with that he resumed his place at the table, where the game had been standing still awaiting his return. When he was gone his wife arose and bent over her son, who had really sunk into what appear- ed to her a profound slumber. His breathing was deep and heavy, but sufficiently regular to allay the maternal fears of poor Nora. The night wore on, and Jane put the children to bed, all except Patsey, who petitioned to be left up with his sick brother, to which his mother consented, having a strange pre- sentiment at her heart that something was to hap- pen before morning. In the utter loneliness and de- solation of the moment, it seemed as if the company of Jane and Patsey was all she had to rely upon, and she heard with satisfaction the boy's request to be allowed to sit up. The two children seemed sensi- ble themselves that there was a load of sorrow on their mother's heart, for they sat silent as death, nestling on the floor close by her side. On and on went the carouse at the table, though the cards had been latterly laid aside, Paul protesting that he wouldn't turn another card because he was left with- out a shilling in his pocket. But on and still on went the drinking and cursing, song after song being sung, or rather shouted, to the excruciating torment of Nora's aching head and breakirg heart. On and on, too, went the deep breathing, or rather snoring of the sick boy, his mother ever and anon rising from her seat in order to ascertain whether any change was taking place, and at last, just as the clock of a ^ CON o'reoan ; OR, neigbboring cburcb told the firBt hour of moruing, she noticed with terror that such was really the caae. The soft, regular breathing had turned to a violent heaving of the chest; the lower jaw had fallen so as to leave the mouth wide open, and the nose had as- sumed that pinched look which too surely indicates approaching dissolution. Wildly uplifting the edge of the bandage which covered the lower part of the brow, the poor mother paw with horror that her son's eyes were open, but glazed and motionless, and the dreadful thought flashed upon her mind that her beautiful boy, the pride of her heart, was dying. In her agony, she shrieked out, "Paul! Paul! he's dy- ing— run Some of you for a doctor." Paul was at her side in a moment, and the one look which he cast on the deathlike face before him, sobered him effectually. Like a madman he rushed to the dooi and up the steps, not waiting even to put on his hat. The other men were almost as fright- ened as himself, and one or two of them would fain have assisted Nora in chafing the boy's stiffening limbs, but the poor mother motioned them away, for her soul loathed these drunken associates of her wretched husband. " Keep off, every one of you," she cried, as with frenzied eagerness she continued her hopeless task, looking ever and anon at the distorted face, in hopes of seeing even a shade of consciousness ; " don't touch him— I tell you don't lay a finger on him; he's going before his Qod without the chanoo of sayin' unfort only s no — n< he nev at all ; them ! poor t shiver Buddei then a was g sank c have n — oh, r child !' nature that tfa mothei Just his fac( masses "He " that called 1 brat m be — w< shut th a stone the otb ur of morfling, really the case. ad to a violent bad fallen so as le nose had as- mrely indicates lifting the edge wer part of the )r that her son's onless, and the mind that her was dying. In Paul ! he's dy- nt, and the one face before him, dman he rushed ting even to put Imost as fright- ,hera would fain boy's stiffening aed them away, issociates of her 16 cried, as with er hopeless task, ed face, in hopes Qusness ; " don't i finger on him; t the chance of EMIORANT UFK IN THB NEW WORLD. M Bayin' ' Lord have mercy on me,' and all from your unfortunate gin. Ob, my God I my God ! if you'd only spare him to get the rites of the Church ; but no— no— oh ! he's goin'— he's goin' ; och ! och ! will he never come with the doctor ? what's keepin' him at all ? Jane, Patsey, run, run an' see what's keepin' them !" Hero one long, painful moan escaped the poor sufferer's blue lips — a few convulsive gasps, a shiver ran through the whole body, the legs were suddenly drawn up and then stretched at full length, then a long, deep breath, and all was still. A soul was gone to its account, and the hapless mother sank on her knees beside the corpse, crying "Lord have mercy on him ! Mother of God pray for him — oh, mercy I mercy — Christ have mercy on my poor child I" It was the agony of faith as well as of nature. The two children wept aloud, for they knew that their brother was dead — they knew it by their mother's wild, prayerful sorrow. Just then Paul threw open the door and rushed in, his face pale as death, and his hair hanging in thick masses over his eyes. " How is he now ?" he cried, approaching the bed ; " that hell-hound of a doctor wouldn't come ; he called me a d d drunken Irishman, and said the brat might die and welcome for all the loss it would be — well for him, he pulled in his head so soon and shut the window, for I'd have brained the fellow with a stone. There's another lives a block or two up the other way, an' I ran in to see how he is before I gA CON o'began ; OB, go anv farther. But what's this, Nora-is he deal f —is he dead, woman ? Why don't you speak ?" " He is dead, Paul," replied the heart-broken mo- ther, raising herself with difficulty, and fixing a cold reproachful eye on her husband. " He is dead ; as dead aa ever you or I'll be. Ho needs no doctor now. You sent him home fast enough at last. Poor man ! poor man !" she added, her voice assum- ing a somewhat softer tone, " there's no use in blamiu' you— you hardiy knew what you were doin' at the time— but och ! och ! I wouldn't be in your place for all the world— ray own is bad enough- God He knows that." She then stooped and closed her son's mouth and eyes with surprising calmneBS, then kissed his lips and brow, and all without drop- ping a single tear, while all around her was tears and sobs. Even the hardened drunkards who stood by could not help sympathizing in this heavy cala- mity; and, as for Paul, his grief knew no bounds. He very naturally reproached himself for liaving at least hastened the death of his favorite child, and hence it was that, like Rachel, he would not be comforted. "My son is dead, and I have killed ■ him !" was the only answer he vouchsafed to his late boon companions when they tried to comfort him. At last ho worked himself into a kind of phrenzy, and seizing hold of two of the men, one with either hand, he shook them violently. " Only for you," he said, or rather shouted, " only for yoa and your cursed drink, my boy might be alive yet. Clea me 8 off r Borrj 'M for t won( you 1 "1 their you ' Fo men, were appei assist corps who labor "I pitial "Ii hand Godl Dear you 1 that I "H Mrs. his aj ■MIORAXT I.irt IN THE NRW WORLD. «t —is he cleal f u speak ?" rt-broken mo- l fixing a cold le is dead ; a» eds no doctor ough at last, r voice assum- e's no use in row were doin* n't be in your bad enough — ped and closed sing calmneBB, without drop- her was tears irds who stood lis heavy cala- ew no bounds. If for having at jrite child, and would not be I I have killed lohsafed to his led to comfort nto a kind of f the men, one )lently. " Only , " only for yoa ;ht be alive yet. Clear out, every mother's son of you, and never let me see the face ot one of you inside my door. Be off now, or I might be tempted to do what I'd be Borry for doin' in my own house." "Wo will, Paul— we will," said one, answering for the others ; " God help you, poor man, it's no wonder you'd be out of your mind— God comfort you and your poor wife, this sorrowful night." " No, no, Paul," said another, as they all took up their hats, " we'll not stay a minute longer thaa you wish." Fortunately for the poor afflicted Bergens, these men, with all their faults, had Irish hearts, for they were not long gone when two women made their appearance, sent by their respective husbands to assist Mrs. Bergen in the sad task of laying out the corpse. This was a great relief to the poor woman, who would otherwise have had the whole dismal labor to herself. " I'll give you a hand at any rate," said she, with pitiable calmness— the calmness of despair. " Indeed, then, you'll not, Mrs. Bergen— the sorra hand you'll lay on him— your load is heavy enough. God knows, poor woman, without havin' that to do, Dear knows, but it was the heart-scald all out for you to have them drunken vagabonds of ours, an» that Jack Duigenan in on you at such a time." "Her own husband was worse than any of them, Mrs. Tierney," said Paul, rousing himself from his apparent lethargy ; " there's not such a bruU |§ CON o'RRaAX ; or. livin' this night aa Paul Bergen, au' that woman there before you-that Nora Bergen that you sea there— is just the mo3t miserable poor woman in- side the city-search it all round. But this night will settle all that. With the help of Almighty God, they'll have good eyes that'll ever see me taste a drop agaia— neither gin, ale, nor brandy shall ever cross ray lips, so lor- as God leaves me hie. Do you hear me, Nora?" " I. do, Paul, I do," said Nora, in the same listless tone, and without raising her head. It was clear she had not much faith in the promise, solemnly and fervently as it was made. Poor Nora Bergen had heard but too many such promises made of late years without any permanent improvement in Paul'a habits. When Con O'Regan went to his dinner next day, he was met on the way by one of his acquaintances, who told him of what had happened. Con was very much shocked on hearing of poor Peter Ber- gen's death, and as soon as he could get away in the evening, he went to Mr. Coulter's to see if Winny would go with him to the wake. Winny had not even heard of the boy's death, and her heart was sore for the poor mother already bent to the earth with manifold afBiclion. " Lord bless me. Con dear, how did it happen, 9t Btl ?" said she; " was he sick, or was it an accident, or what ?" " Not a know I know, Winny, only that when I went in a \ woul some and s once "C thont she's knew I'll ji you f Aw famil; ter w and i com ft husba oonte one f the 1< pileo whicl] book) "If open go ou a friei wiihl EHIGRANT LIFE IN THE N'EW WORLD. ft9 that woman that you sea )!• woman in- ut this night of Almighty r see me taste brandy shall eaves me life. B same listless It was clear , solemnly and •a Bergen had made of late mont in Paul's nner next day, acquaintaneeH, led. Con was oor Peter Ber- d get away in er's to see if wake. Winny death, and her already bent to id it happen, ^ i it an accident, oly that when I went in there last night, poor Mrs. Bergen told me in a whisper that Peter was very bad w4th her — she wouldn't let mo stay a minute, because Paul and some other men were drinkin' and playin' cards, and she was afeard I couldn't well get away if they once got a sight of me." " God bless her," said Winny, fervently ; « it's a thousand pities to see her amongst such a set, for she's a decent, well-conducted woman, as ever I knew, at home or abroad. If you sit down a minnit I'll just run up and see if missis will let me {tq with you for an hour or two." Away went Winny to the front parlor, where the family were all assembled after supper. Mrs. Coul- ter was seated in a rooking-ohair, swaying herself to and fro iu perpetual motion, while she fabricated a comforter with large wooden knitting-pins. Her husband sat right opposite, deeply immersed in the contents of the evening paper. Their two daughters, one fourteen and the other eleven, were studying the lessons of the morrow, each with a formidable pile of books before her, some of them of dimensions which would have frightened our simple and less bookish ancestors. " If you please, ma'am," said Winny, holding the open door by the handle, " would you just let me go out for an hour or two with my brother ? There's a friend of ours»that has a little boy dead, and we'd wish to go to the wake awhile. I've the tea-things "^ I 10 OOK o'regan ; OR, •11 washed up, ma'am, and Leah says she'll do any- thing you may want done till I come back." " But these x/akes, Winny," said Mrs. Coulter, very gravely, " I have always heard that they are very bad, indeed. I have never allowed any of my Irish help to attend wakes, and I really fear I must refuse. I don't see why you Irish will keep up these old heathenish practices in a civilized country." " Well, ma'am, it's an old custom at home," re- turned Winny, hardly able to keep in her tears, " and we can't give it up here where we're all amongst strangers, as one may say. Death is always lone- some, ma'am, and it's a kind of a comfort to them that has it in the house to see their friends about them. But I suppose I'm not to go, m&'am, so I may let Con go by himself?" "No, you shan't, Winny," said Mr. Coulter, speaking for the first time ; " Mrs. Coulter, ma'am, you'll oblige me by allowing Winny to go." The girls, too, chimed in to the same tune, for they both liked the gentle, good-natured Irish girl, and Mrs. Coulter was forced to yield, though she did it with a very bad grace. " You may go then for this time," said she to Winny, " but remember you must never ask to go to another wake so long as you are in my family." " If I can help it I won't, ma'am," said Winny, with quiet humor as she closed the door and with- drew. Leaving her master and mistress to talk the matter over at their leisure, let us follow Winny and som( asset Paul bacoi own wall tures sheet last ; in th( poses ende£ linen prese btronj or m( berea oasua! spoke No sat w rockir pracli and h( *ao ii of frc toHend oandlei ■nohoc he'll do any- .ack." drs. Coulter, ,hat they are ed any of my y fear I must keep up these jountry." at home," re- er tears, " and ) all amongst always lone- ifort to them friends about , m&'am, so I Mr. Coulter, 3ulter, ma'am, go." ime tune, for red Irish girl, d, though she 1 may go then l)ut remember wake 80 long " said Winny, ioor and with- ess to talk the foUow Winny ■MIORANT LIFB IN THE NKW WORLD. n and her brother to the Jjouse of death. They found some six or eight men and nearly as many women assembled in Paul Bergen's subterraneous residence. Paul himself was just placing some pipes and to- bacco on a table, and Nora sat at the head of her own bed whereon the corpse was laid out. The wall beyond the bed was hung with religious nio- tures, furnished by the neighbor women, and the sheets on the bed were of well-bleached linen, the last poor remains of some comfortable homestead in the old country, carefully treasured for such pur- poses as the present, for the Irish peasantry always endeavor, if possible, to have, or at least procure, linen sheets for laying out their dead.* Every one present seemed grave and collected, under the strong impression that this was no time for laughter or merriment. All sympathized deeply with the bereaved parents, and if any one volunteered some casual remark on an indifferent subject, it was spoken in an under tone. Nora seemed utterly heedless of all around, and sat with her clasped hands resting on her knees, rocking herself to and fro in that peculiar way practised by Irish mourners, her eyes cast down and her lips firmly compressed as though to keep iu * Bo common nnd so well recogolzed is this practioe, that it is of freqaent occurrence in all parts of Ireknd for the realthy to «end every article required, linen sheets and pillow-cases, oandlesllcks, Ac, to accommodate their poorer neighbors on noh occasions, and enable them to lay out the corpse deeeatly IS CON O^REOAN : OR, the wild bnrst of sorrow that her heart ever and anon dictated. The entrance of Con and Winny, however, attracted her attention, for she could not avoid hearing Paul as he accosted them by name. Raising her heavy eyes to Winny's face she was touched by her look of heartfelt sympathy, and reaching out her hand to her she bmst into a hyste- rical fit of weeping as she pointed to the bed. Winny and her brother knelt by the bed-side to offer up a prayer for the departed soul, and having discharged that pious duty they took their plaoea in silence. By and by Mrs Bergen said to Con : " Won't you oome and look at him, Con ? — you never had a sight of him when he was livin', for he ■wasn't in the house the day you were here, and last night you didn't see him either." As she spoke she raised the thin muslin covering from off the face, and Con and Winny were both struck with the uncommon beauty of the boy. His face was like that of a fair statue lying in the still attitude of death, and his long dark hair was oprefully combed back, leaving a high, well-formed ijrehead visible. It was a brow that a phrenologist would have loved to look upon, but its fair smooth surface was marred and broken by a gaping, unseemly out on the left temple. Neither Winny nor her brother could restrain their tears as they gazed, and the deep sob* of the remorseful father were heard from behind. No one spoke for a mcment, till at length Coo obterTed : If moi Pet dea A clot her poo the mak a lo (I alw£ too, low- with was wor] to Ic of hi it wi day from com! vaga Woul jp a It sti WOUI lUIOBANT UFK IN THE NKW WORLD, n irt ever and and Winny, be could not jm by name, face she was mpathy, and into a hyste- to the bed. I bcd-Bide to il, and having their places d to Con : 1, Con ? — you livin', for he here, and last she spoke she off the face, uck with the face was like 1 attitude of efully combed ehead visible, tld have loved ce was marred lit on the left jrother could the deep sobs i from behind, t length Oon " He was very like yourself, Mrs. Bergen." " Like what I once was," she answered, with a mournful smile, " but far, far purtier. Oh, Peter ! Peter! it can't be you that's lyin' there— dead- dead— and that ugly wound on your poor forehead I" A IVesh burst of weeping followed. She let tha cloth fall on the dead face, and sank once more into her seat. Con then ventured to ask Paul how th« poor boy liad come by his death. Paul was saved the painful task of answering by Larry Tierney, who, making an admonitory gesture to Con, gave him, in a low voice, the desired information. "Tou see," said he, "poor Peter was ever and always a stirrin' lad-and full of good-nature he wae, too, they toll me, au' the makin' of a fine, clever fel- low— but still, as I was sayin', he had a stirrin' way with him, an' was sure to be into any mischief that was goin'— well, the way that it is with us poor workin' people here in the city, we have no great time to look after our children, and poor Peter was most of his time on the streets, where you may guess that it wasn't the best company he took up with. The day that he got this unlucky blow he had been out from the time he got his breakfast in the mornin', and comin' on the evenin', he got a squabblin' with some vagabond boys about something or another, an' what would you have of it but one of the young imps took ap a sharp stone and flung it right at Peter's head. It struck him on the temple there where you saw the wound, an' the poor fellow dropped down dead, aa 'r4 CON O'RKfcKtf ; OR, every one thonght. But he wasn't dead, for he came to himself while the wound was a-dressing, and if it hadn't been for a swill of gin that poor Paul gave him when he was in his cups last night, he miglit have lived, for the doctor that he was taken to before he was brought home, examined the wound, an' said it would hardly kill him. So you see it's a bad busi- ness altogether." " Bad enough, indeed," said Con, while Winny, •who had been also a listener, wiped away the big tears that would not be kept in, — " tell me this, honest man, do you think Paul has enough to bury the child ?" " I'm afeard not," said Larry, with a rueful shake of the head. He then proceeded to inform Con how Paul had been fined for that unlucky affair at the dance, and how he spent most of what he earned *' very foolishly," but Larry did not tell how he him- self had won nearly two dollars of the residue of Paul's funds on the previous night. Another man here interposed, and told Con in the same cautious tone that they were aaking up enough to pay the expenses of the funeral. " It's all amongst ourselves, you know," said he, " and we have nearly what we want now. Not one has refused us yet only that rap Phil McDermot — an' it ill became him to refuse, the white-livered spalpeen — him that has got so much of poor Paul's hard earnin' in his time." Ha had unconsciously raised bis voioe in giving utter- ance to this philippic. " wlia "O friend afler i counti Pau the fui in the headb( Paul I that I oharac direct! shilling was tbi " An' V that n made n my poc and nol McD meant, offence, and lef offering ■hape a(l, for he came ssing, and if it oor Paul gave ight, he might ;aken to before round, an' said it's a bad busi- while Winny, I away the big " tell me this, nough to bury a rueful shake iform Con hovir :y affair at the 'hat he earned bII how he him- tbe residue of Another man I same cautious ugh to pay the ngst ourselves, learly what we 1 yet only that B hint to refuse, at has got so his time." Ha in giving ntter- EMrCHANT MFE IN THE NEW WORLD. T» "What's that you say?" said Paul Bergen; " what about Phil McDermot ?" "Oh! nothing worth speakin' of," replied his friend ; " a decent man ought to wipe his mouth after mentionin' his name— he's a disgrace to the country he came from, so he is !" Paul inquired no further at that time, but when the funeral was over, and poor Peter laid decently m the Catholic burying-ground with a little white headboard bearing his name and age in black letters, Paul made it his business to find out what it was that Phil McDermot had done to merit such a character. On hearmg what had happened, he went directly and paid that respectable individual a few shillings which he owed him, assuring him that that was the last money he should ever receive from him "An' withal," said he, "you have given me a lesson that I'll never forget. Sorrow and misfortune have made me a wise man, and for the time to come it's my poor family that'll get the good of my earnings, and not the likes of you." McDermot would have inquired what all this meant, declaring himself innocent of any intentional offence, but Paul would not hear a word from him, and left the house, indignantly refusing the peace- offering which Phil would have had him take in th« ■hape of " a glass." t« CON o'resan ; oa. I aa ing •wit wai CHAPTER V. About a week after the death of Peter Bergen, Mr. Coulter on returning from dinner one day told Con that Winny wished to see him immediately. " To see me," repeated Con, in a faint voice ; " why, sir, is there anything wrong with her?" " Don't be frightened, Con," said his employer, in a kind tone; " I believe there is nothing serious, but she don't feel very weH, and — and — in fact, she thinks of going to the hospital !". The worthy man's hesitation proceeded from his unwillingness to tell what was really the case, that his wife insisted on Winny's removal without delay. His own kind heart recoiled from the idea of sending to an hospi- tal the girl who bad served them so faithfully for four years, especially as her disease had nothing in it that could excite fear of infection. " To the hospital, sir I" cried Con, his face pale as •shes, for the Irish people have, above all others, an instinctive horror of hospitals ; " oh, then indeed, it's low enough Winny is when she'd go to an hos* pital. May I go now, if you please, sirf " Certainly, Con ; go as soon as you can." I Co wa an( rec < W wa { int kit inf lie 6v ha to W vo * m« ro; di w< g« KMIGRANT LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD. It Peter Bergen, ir one day told nmediately. a faint voice; ithher?" is employer, in ng serious, but [ — in fact, she e worthy man'a lingncss to tell ife insisted on His own kind ng to an hoapi- faithfully for bad nothing in his face pale as re all others, an ), then indeed, 1 go to an hoB« sirT Poor Con could hardly wait to fetch his hat from an inner room, but having secured it, he was hasten- ing away with a heart full of sorrow, and throbbing with impatience to se'o Winny, when at the door he was tnet Toy Mr. Wood, who accosted him with : " What's all this, O'Regan— where are you going?" " I'm gbin' down to Mr. Coulter's, sir," replied Con, eirasively ; " he sent me himself;'' and without waiting for further interrogation, he brushed past and was some way down the street before Mr. Wood recovered from his surprise. "What a confounded smart chap he is!" was Wood's mental soliloquy, " one would suppose he was running for a wager." On reaching the house, Con was ushered by Leah into a small room, or rather closet adjoining the kitchen, where he found his sister in bed, and look- ing so pale and emaciated that he could hardly be- lieve it to be the same Winny he had seen foax or five days before. But when Winny held out her hand to him with that sweet mournful smile peculiar to herself, he burst into tears and cried : " Wiuny, Winny, what's come over you at all?" " Sit down there on that chair, Con, tnd I'll tell vou. There's something gatherin' on we this twel'- month and better — something like a smotherin' on my chest, an' a great pain in my left side — still I didn't like to tell you, because I was in hopeb it would \^fli!ff.-awaj«J)Ut instead o' that, it's what it's u can. i» gettin' ]| day, an' this last weak I «8 CON UEOAN : OR, have hardly had a minute's peace. Tlie mistress used to say all along that it was only imagination, and Bomelimos she'd tell me it was making believe I was — that's what we call schemin', Con, but since I had to take to w/ hod entirely — that wa^ last night — her whole trouble is to get me away to the hospital, for, even if it's nothing taking I havt , she says there's no way here for me, and that I mu!?t get off this very day, for she wants to get in another girl in my place." Con's tears had not ceased to flow during this re- cital, protracted as it was by the many breaks which Winny's weakness rendered necessary. " The master said something," said he, " about you going to the hospital, but he cut it very short, and sent me off here to you." " Ah ! the blessing of God be about him now and forever," said Wiuny with moiitcaed eyes, " it isn't with his will I'm going to the hospital. Leah tells me that himself and the mistress had a great debate about it, and he told her it was a burnin' shame to send me out, but at last he had to give in, for she took on at a great rate, and then, when he could do no better, he came and bid me good-bye, and slipped this ten dollar bill into my hand to help to pay my expenses in the hospital. If he was one of ourselves, a thousand times over, he couldn't be kinder than he is and has been to me, — and mind. Con, I lay it on you, whether I live or die, that you'll do Mr. Coulter a good tarn if eve' you have it in your power.'' T Wii ter frici Wii tioE me. you it a live ban the tha firs r Bpt ed hal W is i ( aft wl ha th( "I m( an tyU^P/"" LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD. n le mistresfl magination. ig believe I t since I had night — her ospital, for, (ays there's »et oflf this • girl in my •ing this re- •caks which The master jing to the ent me oflf m now and es, " it isn't Leah tells reat debate n' shame to in, for she le could do and slipped I to pay my f ourselves, der than he I lay it on Mr. Coulter over.*' This made Con's tears flow afresh, but he assured Winny that he f«U as grateful himself to Mr. Coul- ter as she did, and would always consider him a friend. " But for God's sake don't talk of dying, Winny," he added, his voice quivering with emo- tion ; " don't now, an' I'll do anything at all you ask me." " We'2 ! well ! Con, I'm not dead yet, anyhow, and you know very well that my talking of it won't bring it about— if it's the will of God I'll die, and if not I'll live— so don't be cast down. Con— leave it all in the hands of God, and then take whatever happens for the best. But you must get a carriage or something that way, and take me to the hospital— that's the first thing to be done." This made Con tremble all over. He tried to spi.ik but the words stuck in his throat, and he forc- ed a cough in order to clear his voice ; taking up his hat, I ' said: "Well! I suppose I must see about it. Where's the— the hospital, Winny, or what hospital is it?— hem!" •'There's a charity-hospital, Con," said Winny, after taking a draught of cold water from a mug which stood on a chair beside the bed, «' where we have to pay nothing at all, and our own '^lergy go there regular— it's true," she added, hesitatingly, "I'd rather not go in on charity so 1 >ng as I have means to pay, but what I have wouldn't last long, and, besides, if I die.l you'd want it to bury me." All this was said in a quick, hurried voice, as if CON REOAK ; OR, Winny wanted to get through with it, and when ehe had ended, she drew a long breath, as if relieved of a heavy burthen. "Well, but don't you know, Winny," said her brother eagerly, " that I have ten dollars by me, and jon have Mr. Coulter's ten dollars — that makes twenty, you see, besides your own." " And do you think, Con, that I'd let you spend your ten dollars that way, an' you wantin' so badly to send it home ? — no, indeed, not a penny of it. In- stead of that I thought I'd be able to help you to send for Biddy and the children, but I suppose that's all over — well, wc must only do the best we can, and leave the rest to God." Con went off at length, commisaioned by Winny to do as he liked, " and God direct him for the best." So he found out the hospital after a long search, and made arrangements to have Winny admitted ; then procured a carriage, and, wrapping Winny up in her warmest clothes, kindly assisted by Leah, he re- moved her from the house that had been her dwell- ing for four long years, with nothing more than a cold " good-bye" from Mrs. Coulter, who graciously descended to the door to see her ofil " Good-bye, Winny." said the laJy ; " I hope you'll be well soon. Take good care of yourself." And with this admonition she closed the door, and returned to her luxurious parlor, where she soon forgot all about Winny in the fascination of the last new novel. Poc in on( first c "Got your V see m< ger of get tb Kow, that h but a I day, b morro' turninj evenin^ on, an( now, C hand, \ " go n about I as you "I ^ be lea poor g from hi about i back to ter was been. Saturdf MIOIUNT UrE IH THE NEW WORI.I), 81 , and when she if relieved of ny," said her irs by jne, and — that makes let you spend atin' SQ badly jnny of it. In- to help you to suppose that's ist we can, and icd by Winny I for the best." Hg search, and Smitted; then inny up in her Leah, he re- een her dwell- r more than a ?ho graciously Jy; "I hope i of yourself." the door, and here she soon ;ion of the last Poor Winny was very soon comfortably settled in one of the wards of the hospital, and then her first care was to have Con bring her the priest. " Go to Father Timlin," said she, " before you go to your work, and ask him if he can at all to come and see me, Tell him," said she, " that there's no dan- ger of death— at least very soon— but it's well to get the rites of the Church as soon as possible. Now, Con, don't cry that way— you know very well that having the priest won't make me any worse, but a great deal better. Maybe he can't come to- day, but if not, I hope he'll try and come to- morrow. And, do you hear, Con," for he was turning away in speechless sorrow, « go down this evening, and see how poor Mrs. Bergen is getting on, and bring me word when you come again. Go, now, Con," and she reached out her thb, skinny hand, which her brother squeezed between his own ; " go now, and God bless you ! Don't be fiettin' about me, but pray for mo, and come again as soon as you oan." " I will, Winny !" was all that Con could say, as he left the room, not daring to look again at the poor girl, who had all along endeavored to conceal from him the actual extent of her suffering. It was about four o'clock in the afternoon when Con got back to the warehouse, and, finding that Mr. Coul- ter was out, he said nothing about where he had been. No questions were asked of him, but when Saturday evening carao round, Con found that he 82 CON o'regan ; OR, was paid half a day short. " Well 1" said he to himself " I wasu't half a day away, but then I suppose it's all right. I mustn't say anything about this to Mr Coulter for I know very well he'd make a fass, and there's no use in the like of that. I'll get over the loss." When Con went to see Mrs. Bergen, on the even- ing of the day on which Winny went to the hospital, he was agreeably surprised to find her much more cheerful than he had seen her since he came to America. Paul was silting at the table reading, and laying down his book on Con's entrance, he came forward ♦.o meet him with outstretched hand. <' You look as if you hardly thought it was me was in it," said Paul, ^vith a smile that he wished to make a cheerful one, but could not succeed — it was a wintry smile, at best, for grief was still heavy at his heart, " and I don't wonder at your bein' sur- prised, for I almost wonder at myself to be at homo e'er an evenin' without some pot-companions helpin' me to make a beast of myself Sit down, Con, an' take air of the fire." " Yes, Con," said Nora, as she in her turn, shook hands with the visitor, *'you see we have a good fire now, an' what's more, we have plenty to eat an' drink, an' best of all, Con, we have peace ar' iiet- ness. Thanks an' praises ba to God, if He afflicts us in one way He makes up for it in another." " Well, I'm sure," said Con, " you all look twenty pounds better than you did last week, and more of k!i ' ^i!yM. n ) f ^lffwffl.mmJm%^o Kii?^*Anj»- nn id he to himBelf [ suppose it's all lut this to Mr aake a fnsa, and I'll get over the en, on the even- t to the hospital, her much more ice he came to ible reading, and trance, he came bed hand, lit it was me was t he wished to succeed — it was as still heavy at your bein' sur- ilf to be at homo mpanions helpin' down, Ccn, an' [ her turn, shook we have a good plenty to eat an' peace ar' ;iiet- ;, if He afflicts us 1 other." I all look twenty iek, and more of EMIGRANT UFE IN THE NKW WORLD. 83 that to you, I pray God." He did not think it ex. pediont to inquire how such a change was effected all at once, but Nora anticipated his curiosity. "I see," said she, « you don't like to ask how all this was brought about, but I'm sure you can't but guess, Paul has never tasted a drop of any kind since— since our heavy loss— an' he went to his duty the very day after the funeral, an' he's to go again towards the end of the week. So, with God's help, there's no fear of him but he'll keep from the liquor now. I declare to you, Con O'Rcgan, it's in heaven we are ever since, an' you'd wonder at how easy we find it to get the little wants of the house, though It's only a week since Paul left off drinking." "And sure Patsey and Jim go to school, and me, too," said Jane, anxious to communicate a share of the good news." " Well, indeed, I'm proud an' happy to hear it," said Con, " especially as I have bad news myself." " How is that ?" cried Paul and Nora in a breath ; " is there anything wrong with Winny ?" " Indeed then the o is," said Con, with a heavy sigh . " I left her in the hospital this afternoon." " The Lord save us I an' what in the world is the matter with her ?" "Well, mysslf doesn't rightly know, but I'm afeard it's decHue. If it isn't, it'u very like it, though I didn't say so to her. She wanted so badly to know how you were all getting on here that I had to pro- raise I'd come and sec yon this evening." «.'e'jsas«i»^[WM»-. /'y 84 CON O'REGAN ; OR, "Poor Winny, it's just like her," said Paul. " Ycu must go and see her to-morrow, Nora — that is, if you're able at all." " Oh I I'm able to go further than that, never fear, and if I were weaker than I am now, I'd make my way to see Winny O'Regan, an' her sick among tlio cowld strangers in an hospital. No one knows but God Almighty and myself how much I owe to that same giil. Many and many's the time she brought me comfort when I had very little, though dear knows I used to scold her often for layin' out her penny of money on me that had my husband earnin' good wages every week of his life." " The wages were good enough, Nora," said Paul quickly, " but you weren't much the better of them, and poor Winny knew that well enough. But never mind, Nora, with God's help, your darkest days are past, never to come back again." " God grant they may, Paul, but remember no days are to say dark for me if you only keep Bob