The North-Carolina standard., 1843-04-12
THE STOLEN SHEEP.
AN IRISH SKETCH.
By The author of Tales oftAe OHar0 Family"

By The author of "Iales Of the o. Haro Family"
The faults of the lower orders of the Irish are
sufficiently well known; perhaps their virtues
have not been proportonately observed, or record
ed for observation At all events, it is but justice
to them and it cannot conflict with any establish
ed policy, or do any one harm, to exhibit them in
favorable light to their British fellow subjects,
as often as strict truth will permit In this view
the following story is written-the following facts
indeed; for we have newspaper report before
us, which shall be very slightly departed from,
while we make our copy of it.
The Irish plague called typhuS fever, ragged in
its terrors. In almost every third cabin there was
corpse daily. In every one without an eKcep-
ton, there was what had made the corpse-hun-
ger 1t need not be added that there was poverty,
too The poor could not bury their dead. From
mixed motives of selfprotecton, terror and benev-
olence, those in easier circumstances excrted them
selves to administer relief in different ways. Mo-
ney was subscribed-(then came England's muni
ficent dominion-God prosper her for it !)-whole-
some food, or food as wholesome as a bad season
permitted, was provided and men ofrespectabity
bracing their minds to avert the danger that threat
ened themselves, by boldly facing it, entered the
infected house, where death reigned almost alone
and took measures to cleanse and purify the close
cribbed air, and the rough bare walls. Before
proceeding to our story let us be permitted to men,
ton some general marks of Irish virtue, which,
under those circumstances we personally noticed
In poverty in abject misery. and at short and fear
ful notice. the poor man died like christian He
gave vent to none of the poor mans complaints
or invcctvcs against the rich man who had nrg-
lcctcd him, or who he might have supposed, had
done so till it was too late. Except for glance,
and doubtless, little inward pang while he glanc-
ed-at the starving, and perhaps infected wife. or
child, or old parent as helpless as the child, he
blessed God and died. The appearance ofa com
forter al his wretched bed side, even when he knew
comfort to be useless, made his heart grateful,
and his spasmed lips eloquent in thanks. In ca
ses of indescribable misery-some members of his
family lying lif-lcss before his eyes, or else some
dying, stretched upon damp and unclean straw,
on an earthen floor, without cordial for his lips,
we have heard him whisper to hims IT, (ond to
another who heard him y Tho Lord givtth, and
the Lork takcth away, blessed be the name Of the
Lord" Such men need not always make bad
neighbors.
In the early progress of the fever, before the
more afluent reused themselves to avert its career,
let us cross the threshold of an individual peasant
His young wife lies dead: his second child is dy-
ing at her side, he has just sunk into a corner
himself under the first stun of disease long resist
cd. The only persons Of his family who have es-
capped contagion, and are likely TO escape it, ale
his old father, who sits weeping feebly upon the
hob and his first born boy ofthrCe or four years,
who, standing b, tween the old mans knees, cries
also for food
We visit the young peasants abode some time
after He has not sunk under, 'the sickness"
He is fast regaining his strength, even without
proper nourishment; he can creep out of doors,
and sit in the sun. But, in the expression OIL his
salIow and emaciated face there is no joy for his
escape from the grave, as he sits there alone silent
and brooding His father, and his surviving child,
are still hungry, indeed, and more hopeless than
ever; for the neighbors who had relieved the fam
ily with potatoe and mug Of sour milk are now
stricken down themselves, and want assistance to
a much greater extent than they can give it.
81 wish Mr. Evans was in the place." cogita-
ted Michaul Carroll "a body could spake form
ent him. and not speak for nothin; for all that he's
an Englshman; and don't like the thoughts o
goiu' up to the house to the stewards face-it
wouldn't turn kind to body. May be he'd soon
come home to us, the master himself"
Another fortnight elapsed. Michanfs hope
proved vain. Mr. Evans was still in London
though regular resident on his small Irish estate,
since it had come into his possession, business I'M
fortunately-and he would have said so himself
now kept him an unusual long time absent
Thus disappointed Michaul overcamc his repug-
nance to appear before the "hard" steward. He
onlv asked for work, however. There was none
10 be had He turned his slow and still feeble foot
into the adacent town. 1t was market day. and
he took up his place among a crowd of other
claimants for agricultural employment, shoulder
ing a spade, as did each of his companions. Many
farmers came to the we'll known 'stanin," and hi
red men at his right and at his left, but no one ad
dressed Michaul Once or twice, indeed, touched
perhaps by his sidelong look ofbeseeching misery
farmer stopped moment before him. and glanc-
od o,,or b;s 6oure. hnt his worn and almost Sha-
king limbs giving little promise of present vigor
in the working field, worldly prudence soon con-
ouered the humane feeling which started up be-
fore him in the mans heart, and, with choakng
in his throat poor Michaul saw the arbiter OF his
fate pass on.
He walked homeward without having broken
his fast that day. ''Bud, n'ush0 what's the harm
O. that" he said to HIMSELF "only here's the ould
father, an her pet boy, the weenock, without Py-
atee either. Well ashore, if they can't have the
pvatees, they must have better food-thats all i
~ !, he routtorad clenchino his hands at his