The Davenport gazette. [volume] (Davenport, Scott Co., Iowa) 1841-185?, 1851-04-17

twas sorrowful night when my father
brought home the news. remember as
we'll as It it was yesterday, the desola,e
look in his face when be sat down by ths
ashes Of the turf fire that had just baked a
yellow meal cake for his supper. Ny
mother was at the opposite eide giving lit.
tie Mary drink Of sour milk out Of a wood
en- piggin, and the child didn't like it, be-
ing delicate, and always used to sweet milk
80 she snid:
"Msmmy, won't you give me some ofthe
nice milk, instead Of thai?"
81 havnt It ashore, nor can get it,"
said the mother, $50 don't ye fret"
Not word more out Of the little ones
mouth. only she turned her little cheek 10
toward her mother, and staid quiet; as il
she was hearkening to what was going on.
Study" said my father, "God is good,
and sure It's only in Him we must put our
trust; for in the wild world | see nothing
but starvation before u.s."
Just then Richard came in, with more
joyful face than had seen on him for many
day.
"Good news" said he, "good news, father
there's work for Us both on the Druomca-
"a road! The government works are to
begin o.morrow--you'll get eight-pence a
day, and III get six-pence."
Ifyou saw our delight when We heard
this, you'd think the free present Of thou.
sand pounds had come to US, falling through
the roof, instead Of an offer Of small wages
for hard work.
To be sure potatoes we're gone, and the
yellow meal was dear, dry and chippy--it
hadn't the nature about it that hot pota.
toe has Tor poor man; but still twas a
a grea. thing to have the prospect Of get.
ting enough Of even that same, and 10, to
be Obliged to follow the rest Of The country
into the poor house, which was crowded 10
that degree that the crathurs there-God
help them!- room even to die quiet
" in their beds, but were crowded toge,h-
er on the floor like SO many dogs into q
kennel. The next morning my father and
Richard we're off before day break, for they
had long walk to Druoncara, and they
should be there in time to begin work.
They took an Indian meal cake with them
10 eat for their dinner, and poor dry food j,
was, with only draught Of cold water to
wash It down. Still my father, who was
mighty knowledgable about such things, al
WAYS said It was mighty wholesome when
j. was we'll cooked, but some Of the pooI
people took great objection agains, i, on
account Of the yellow color, which they
thought came from having sulphur mixed
with it--and they said, indeed it was put
ting great affront on the decent Irish to
mix up their food as il twas for NANCY
dogs. Glad enough. poor cra,hurs. they
were to get it afterwards, when seaweed
aud nettles, and the very grass BY the road
side, 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 biz o'
butter, or bowl oi thick milk, or NAV he
a few eggs. She always gave me plenty
as far as it would go; bu. twas little she
took herself. She would often 60 entirely
without meal, and then she'd slip down
to the huckster's and buy little wife bun
for Mary: and I'm sure it used to do her
more good TO see The child eat it, than il
she had got meat-dinner for herself. M
matter how hungry the poor little thing
might be, she'd always break off a bit to
put into her mothers mouth, and she would
not be satisfied until she saw her swallow
il; then the child would take drink ofcold
water out Of her little tin porringer, as con-
tented rs If it was new milk
As the winter advanced, the weather be-
came wet and bitterly cold, and the poor
men working on the roads began TO saffsr
dreadfuIiy from being all day in wet clothes,
and what was worse, not having anv
change to put on when they went home al
night, without dry thread about them.
Fever soon got among them, and my father
took it. Nv mother brough, the doctor to
see him, and, selling our decent clothes,
she got for him whatever was wanting, but
all TO no use; twas the will Of the Lord to
take him to himself, and be died utter q
DAVIS illness.
Il would be hard to tell the sorrow that
his widow and orphans felt, when they snw
The fresh sods planted on his grave. Il
was not grief altogether like the grand
stately grief Of the quality, although NAV
be the same sharp knife is sticking into The
sore bosom inside in both; but the outside
differs in rich and poor. ! saw the mis-
tresses week after Miss Ellen died. She
was in her drawing room with blinds pull
ed down, sitting in a low chair, with her
elbow on the small workable. and her
cheek resting on her hand-not speck Of
anything white about her bu. the cambric
handkerchief and the face that was paler
than the marble chimney-piece.
When she saw me, (for the butler being
bnsy, sent me in with the luncheon tray,)
she covered her eyes with her handker-
chief, and began to cry, but quietly. IS if