Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1850-12-05
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 5. 1850

and would laugh and crow when she saw US
but the love in the core Of heart was 70
her mother. No matter how tired, or slee
lpy, or cross the baby might be, one wor,
from her wonld Sc, the bright eyes dancing
and the little rosy mouth smiling, and ih,
tiny limbs quIvering, as If walking or run
ming couldn't content her, but she'd fiyto heI
mothers arms. And how that mother do
ted on the very ground she trod often
thought the Queen in her state carriage
with her son, God bless him! alongside Of
her, dressed out in gold and jewels, was
not one bit happier than my mother, when
she sat under the shade of the mountain
ash. near the door, in the hush Of the sum-
mer's evening, singing, aud cronauxing her
only one TO sleep in her arms.
In the month IF October, 1916, Mary was
four years old. That was the bitter time,
when first the food of the earth was turned
to poison; when the gardens that used to
be so bright and sweet, covered with the
purple and white potatoe blossoms become
IN one night black aud offensive, as if FIRE
had come down from heaven to burn them
up Twas a heart breaking thing to see
laboring men, the crathers! that had only
the one-half acre to feed their little families,
alter work in the evenings, to dig their sup
pers from under the black stalks. Spade
ful after spadein would be turned up,
and long piece of ridge dug through,
before they'd get small dishful of such
withered erohauneens, (small polatoes,) as
IN other years would be hardly counted fit
for the pigs.
1t was some time before the distress
reached us, for there was trifle of money
IN the savings bank, that held us in meal,
while the neighbors were next door to star
Walton. As long as my father and mother
had it, they shared it freely with them that
were worse ofl'lhan themselves; but at last
the little penny of money was all spent, the
prize of Hour was raised aud, to make mat
tiers worse, the farmer that my father work
ed Tor at poor elghteenpence per day, was
forced TO send him and three more ofhis Ia
bnrers away, as he couldn't afford to pay
them even that any longer. Oh! twas
sorrowinl night when my father brought
home the news. remember, as well as if
saw II yesterday, the desola,c look in his
face when he sat down by the ashes of the
turf fire tina, had just baked yellow cake
for his supper. My mother was at the opo-
site side, giving Mary drink of sour milk
out of her little wooden piggin, and the
child didn't like it, being delicate, and al
ways used TO sweet milk, SO she said
Nanny, won't you give me some of the
nice milk instead of that p
Invent ii, ashore, nor can't get it,
said her mother, i" so don't ye fret"
Not word more out of the little ones
mouth. only she turnd her little cheek in to-
ward her mother, aud staid quite quiet, as if
she was harkenlng t" what was going on.
Judy" said my father, God is good,
and sure It's only in him we must put our
trust; for in the wide world can see nothing
but stavation before u.s.
God is good Tim." replied my mother,
He won't iorsake US"
Just then Richard came in with more
joyful face than | had seen on him for many
day.
Good newsp' said he, "good news faith
er there's work for us both ON the Dronm-
Cara road The government works are to
begin there tomorrow-you'ii &c; eighipence
day, aud III get sixpence"
If you saw our delight when we heard
this, you'd think twas the free present of a
thousand pounds that came 10 us, falling
through the roof, instead ofaa offer of small
wages for hard work
To be sure; potatoes were gone, and the
yellow meal was dear, and dry, and chippy
1t hadn't the nature about il that hot
potato has for poor man; but still twas
great thing to have the prospect of getting
enough of even that same, and not to be o.
bliged to follow the rest of the country into
the poor-lIuuse, which was crowded to that
degree that the poor crathers therc-God
help them hadn't room even to die quiet
ly IN their beds, but were crowded together
on the floor like SO many dogs in kennel.
The next morning my father and Rich
ard were off before daybreak, for they had
long way TO walk To Droumcarra, aud they
should be there IN tine TO begin work.
They took an Indian meal cake with them
to eat for their dinner, and poor dry food it
was, with only a draught of cold water, TO
wash 1t down. Still my father, who was
huoWicu9chOie ABOUT SUCH thlHg>, always
SAID it WAS mighty wholesome when it was
well coocked; and but some of the poor
people took grea. objection against it on
account of the yellow color, which they
thought came from having sulphur mixed
with Ii-and they said, indeed it was put
ting great affront upon the decent Irish, TO
mix up their food as if twas for NANCY dogs.
Glad enough, poor cra,hurs, they were to
get it ailerward, when seaweed and netlles,
and the very grass by the roadside, was all
that many of them had to put into their
mouths
When my father and brother came home
in the evening. faint and tired from the two
long walks, and the days work, my mother
would always try to have something for
them To eat with their porridge-a bit of but
Ter, or bowl of thick milk, or maybe lew
eggs. She always gave me plenty, as far as
II would go; bat twas lii,le she took her
self. She would often 90 entirely without a
meal, and then she'd slip down to the buck
sier's. and buy little white bun for Mary /;
and I'm sure 1t used to do her more good
to see the child eat II, than if she had got
meat dinner for herself No matter how
hungry the poor little thing might be, she'd
always break off bit to put into her moth