Literary cadet and Rhode-Island statesman. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1827-1829, 1827-11-10
lslEgCUKxANx.
THE LITTLE IRISH GIRL.

lanu, 10 the neuu scINuht VI hoo'e""',
who resided not far from the cl'y oi
Cork. At the time Of their marriage,
Patrick O'Conner was likely to support
his family well; but the nobieman soon
after died; and affairs were managed by
"a hard-hearted, dishonest agent, VINO
turned away some OF the best servants,
and oppressed the tenantry with taxes
they could not ray. Patrick and Mary
soon found that with their utmost indus
try and economy, they could not find
bread to eat, aud clothes to wear.
"I'm thinking" said Patrick one
night, when he came home, tired and
discouraged, I'm thinking we must 60
over TO America Mary put the corner
Of her apron to her eyc-'A poa'oe
ould taste swccter in dear ireland,
said she, sthan "A sxpenny loaf in other
parts sYes, my dear honey, but we
cannot get the potatoe, replied Patrick.
Things grew worse and worse-- ald
the honest Irishman, with his wife, and
babe about six months old, put them
selves on board an American vessel ,
bound to Boston. Before they were
half across the Atlantic, they were over
taken by an English ship, the captain OF
which claimed O'Conncr as IN English
subject, and compelled him to go off to
India with him, to join the British troops
there; but they wanted no women and
children on board, they said-and they
would not let Mary aud her little one
90. This was sad trial TO poor Pa
trick. First hC swore, and then he
cried, and then he gave Mary all the
money he had-and kissing the baby
again and again, bade her be Of good
cheer, for he should come to Boston be-
fore two years had passed away. Poor
Mary O'Conner! 1t was enough to have
melted heart of flint to see her cling
to her husbands neck, and sob there, as
if she might die. But she did not want
to die-though she was very wretched
indecd-for she knew if she were gone,
there would be nobody in the world to
care for her darling little Rosy OCon-
ner, who was sleeping in her nice. warm
blanket, as quietly as if her father and
mother were to be forever with her.
When Patrick was gone, Mary dried
up her tears, and tried to be useful to
those on board; and though she spoke
very little, she gained the good will Of
all the sailors by her cheerful, ob!iging
ways.
When the vessel drew up to the wharf
in Boston, you may we'll believe Mary
felt sick at heart 1t was evening-and
she could see the lights gimmcring in
| hot hnn -
but not one OF those many houses OIL
fered her a homeland among all that
multitude of people, there was no one
that knew her, or cared for her. Had
she bcen all alone in the wilderness. she
thought she should not have felt half SO
desolate, as she did among that crowd
of strangers. The people on board the
vessel pitcd her, and many ofthem gave
her money. One gentleman, who seem
ed to be rich, told her that if she would
call and see his wife, the next day, they
would try to find some employment for
her. The Irish are very warm-heart-
ed, grateful nation-and Mary had a
true Irish disposition. She burst into
tears, and sobbed out, Blessings on
your honor, for your goodness. Honest
Patrick would say you deserved a seat
in heaven, your honor will Fave place
there, for your goodness to me- The
gentleman smiled to hear her talk so
about what he considered very simple
duty; and after promising to assist her,
as long as she was industrious and dis
erect, he departed. Though sailors arc
rough in their manners, they are kind at
heart. One of them went on shore
with Mary and her babe, and found a
place where she could procure a COM
Portable supper, and decent lodging, at
| a trining expense. The next morning,
after Mary had knelt down and returned
thanks for the merciiul care that had
been taken of her, in strange land she
took her babe in her arms, and went out
to find the house, the owner of which
had promised to procure employment
for her. But in the multitude Of thoughts
which crowded into her heart, she had
forgotten the name Of the street She
wandered up and down Washington
street, until she was very tired inquring
where Mr.. &*'**t" lived, but she spoke
the name with such a foreign accent,
that no one understood her; and she be-
gan to think she should never be able to
find her generous friend. Sad and weary
she sat down on the steps OF the Old
South Church, to rest herself. Here
she attracted much attention.; for her
calico loose gown, tucked up at the
sides, and her snow-white cap, made af-
ter the Irish fashion, showed that she
was a stranger in New-England Her
face Was deeply pitted with the small
pox, hut It had such good, honest ex-
preston, that people felt disposed to
trust her, at first sight Then the little