The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1836-1851, 1840-02-01

a house Of comforts as are not to be found
in the psrish-white table-cloths for Sun
day, a little store of tay and sugar, soap,
candles, starch, every thing good, and plen-
ty of it."
MY own dear generous sister," ex-
claimed the young man.
Il shall ever be yoursister," she replied,
|" and hers too: She's good colleen, and
worthy my own Mike, and that's more
THAI would say to ere another in the
parish. | wasn't in earnest when | said
you'd be glad to get riI of me; so put the
pouch, every bit of it, off yer handsome
face. And hush !-whisht wlli ye! there's
the sound of Lary's footStcp in the bawn
hand me the needles, Mike" She braid
ed back her hair with both hands, arrang-
cd the red ribbon, that confined its Iuxuri-
ancc, in the little glass that hung upon a
nail on the dresser, and, after composing
her arch laughing features into an express
sion of great gravity, sat down, and ap-
piled herself with singular industry to take
up the stitches her brother had dropped,
and pat on look of right ma!daniy aston
ishmcnt when the door opened, ard Lar
rvs good-humorcd face entered with the
salutation of "Cod save all here~ lie
popped his head in first, and, after gazing
round, he presented his gooIIy pers:n to
their view; and pleasant view it was, ior
he was Of genuine Irish beauty and bear
frg-frank and manly, and fearless-look-
ing. Ellen, tic wicked one, looked up
with wcII-leislad astoi!isi!mcnt, ard ex-
claimed, "Oh, Larry, is it you, and who
would have thought of seeing you this
blessed night? -ye're lucky, just in time
for bit Of supper alther your walk across
the moor. l cannot think what in the
world makes you walk over that moor 50
often; you'll get wet feet, and yer mother
i'll be forced to nurse you. Of all the
walks i'll the county, the walk across that
moor is the drcariest, and yet ye're always
going it! | wonder you hav'nt better sense;
ye're not such a chicken now"
"Wcll," interrupted Mike, "its the wo-
men that bates the work. for d2sav!ng.
Sure she heard yer step when nobody else
could; its echo struck on her heart, Lar
ry-Iyt her deny it; she'll make shove
off if she can; she'll twist you, and twirl
YOU, and turn you about, so that you won't
know whether it's OH your head or your
heels yc're standing. She'll tossicate yer
brains in no time, and be as composed her
self as a dove on her nest in storm. But
ask her, Larry, the straightforward qucs-
ton, whether she heard you or not. She'll
tell no lie; she never does"
Ellen shook her head at her brother, and
laughed. And Immediately after, the hap
py trio sat down to a cheerful supper.
Larry was good tradesman, blythe
and swell to do" in the world; and had
it not been for the one great fault; an in
clination to take the "least taste in life
moro" when he had already taken quite
enough, there could not have been found
a better match for good, excellent Ellen
Murphy, in the whole kingdom of Ireland.
When supper was finished, the everlasting
whiskcy bottle was produced, and Ellen
resumed her knitting. After time, Lar
rv pressed his suit to Michael for the indus
trious hand Of his sister, thinking, doubt
less, with the natural seif-conceit of all
mankind, that he was perfectly secure with
Ellen; but though Ellen loved, like all my
fair countrywomcn, pcl!, she loved, am
sorry to say, unlike the generality of my
fair countrywomcn, ecisely, and reminded
her lover that she had seen him intoxicated
at the last fair Of Ratkcoo!in.
Dear Ellen!' he exclaimed. "it was
sonly drop the ia;,:t taste II. lie that O.
vercamc me. 1t overlook me unknowst,
quite against my WILL"
"Who poured it down yer throat, Lar
ry?"
"Who poured it down my throat is it =?
why, myself, to be sure; bit arc you going
to put me to three months pennance for
thatw
LARRY. will you listen to me, and re-
member that the man | marry must be
converted before we stand before the
priest. | have no faith whatever in con-
versions after"