Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1858-06-12
M miscellaneous.
a DESCRIPTION OF pURGAToRY.

the lie and labors Of Gerald Griffin an Irish au.
thor. From it we extract the following descrip-
ton Of purgatory, whi,h rs not without its NOR
al.
"a couple, sir, that was there Of time, an they
hadn't only the one son, an plenty OF every thlhg
about 'em. Well, himself was "a very good man
he never sent a beggar away empty-handed IRON
his house, he gave clothes to tho naked an loou
~ the hungry, an drink 10 the dhry, an every
whole ha'p'orth, all to one thing alone, au mat
was that he never allowed any poor person to sleep
a night inside his door, be they ever so tired, be
cause his wife was IL terrible woman, au' he was IN
Unread of her tongue. As for her, the only thing
she ever gave to any one in her life was an ould
;atthor'd skreed Of a flannel ~petticoat she gave to
one poor old woman, an the Sleeps troticrs that
she used to have thrown out in the dooro to 'em
when they'd be crowdin' about it afther dinner.
"Well it so happened, as things will happen,
that the man died ; an if he did, the day he was
buried. the rain keep powerin' down equal to a
flood, until they had him laid in the grave. An 1t
isn't long afther until the woman died likewise,
an a finer day never came out O. the sky than what
she had goin' to the church.yard. Well the son
was thinkin' greatly. dav an night, about TINS, lor
he Thought better O tho father. II deal, than the
mother, an be wondered to say she should have
all the sunshine intirely, an he to 80 ~drownded
wet, an his people afther him, berrin'. BE tins
an be that, says he, strikin' the jamb o the doore
this way with the fiat of his hand, | neverll stop
or stay, says ne, lI L ulb Oub u dloVu " 'H'
or why it should be at all, says he. An out he
marched the doore.
lie walked a sighth that day, an it was just
about the dusk of the evenin' when he found HIM
selfiu the middle Of a lonesome wood, an the sun
roin' down, an not haviu' Il place to turn to where
he'd get shelter for the night. He went in far
thcr au' deeper into the wood, but the farther he
went the mere lonesome it grew, an a quare sort
Of appearance was in the air, an on the thrces, an
bushes, an the sky, an all about him. by an by
ii. .a, - lrnaIh n wind
surrjn' nor a life muvin' on the boughs, nor one
thing shown n sign o. life, an still it bein' the
finest country ever you seen, only quare an silent
that way. lie walked on farther au' farther, an
Mt last he seen a place among the threcs that he
thought was a church, only it had a little Gull O.
smoke comm mp through the boughs, as II some'
Lody was lviE' there.
"IIe made towards the house, an walked in the
d1ore. Well. it was the finest place he ever seen
in islife. There was q table laid out, an a hre
in the crate, an all sorts o cookery goln' on, an d
hale looking old man sittin' near the table, prepar-
in his dinier, an lookin' very pleasant an happy.
Well, this boy, he up and be told him what ne
wanted, a nights lodgin', an the old man made
him come in, an sit down an tell his story, WHAT
twas he was lOokin' for, du' a%ftherthe boerd 1t all;
We'll. do you know who it is you have here nowf'
saws The old man. Il don't, says the boy, how
should | know you when | never seen you before? :
you did see me, many's the time says the old
man AN why wouldn't you ? I'm your father,
saws ne. uluIlItl . says liC ivy ~ mac
"Well mot to make a long story Of IT, they sat
own, ar ate their dinner. They past the evenin'
taikiu'. ar when it was bed time, the father got
up au'waiked out, biddin' the boy not TO mind him
an left him alone be the fire. The night past
away, an lac didn't return, an at last the boy got
80 sleepy, he said he'd thry about the place for a
bed to sleep on. He made towards a door, an
opened it, an if he did, what did he sec within,
only Il fine feather bed an' curtains, an a terrible
big dog sittin' down upon the foore, an lookln'
hip,.u traitrb IN tho fA.a lIoYllu ha ntfprpl 70 pO
a foot into the room when the dog flew at him, ar
was ready, l declare to you, Masther Francis, e
tear him upon the spot. Well an good, II he did
we'll became the boy, he moved an lei
the place TO the dog, an took his seat agln be tn
fire, as it might be this way,a an slep away TIL morf
in.
when the old man came in, in the mornin
oh, then, father says the boy, 'wasn,tita dro
thing O. you,' says he, to lave me IN THIS way d
night alone, without a bed to rest upon, or a ma
'orth AMI SO tired, All, my child, says the Of
man, Il could NOT give you what hadn't myself
WHY sa,' says the boy, Il thought you were IN 81
ry, father, aren't you happy? a am happy, M
child in all but one thing, as you may see, ca
never sthretch my limbs upon a bed, nor slice
under a roof, forever, during duration, an tt
raisou is. because | never once gave a nights lod
in to a poor man in my days on earth, an all
account O. your mother, says he. 'Oh, fathe
father says the boy, AM isn't that a poor ca
with you ? Iii is, says the old man.
IAN I'll tell you now says he. what's I'll
raison o the different whether we had the tin
we were buried, the both of US. Your mother ht
s~unshiny day, for there was an awful judgeme
waiting for her, an that was all the pleasure 81
was ever more to have, the light of the bright 81
was sbinin' down upon her coffin until they put h
in the earth. An | for my sins, had it raini
heavy all that day, for that was all the i'll usage
was ever to receive, besides the want of a bed :,
AN is my mother here, father :? says the boy
'Put on your hat says the father, AN folio
me-
"lIe did he went afther him into a sort of
back yard, an there he saw his mother sittin' dow
on the bare stones, an gnawin' sleeps trotteT
with n0thin' on her to shelter her old bones fro
the cold, but a little skreed o. flannel, the image
the one she gave the poor woman. There's h
fate forever, say the old man, AN the fate of
that mas no charity on earth. But don't cry, II
child. until you have more raison come alol
an profit by what you see.'
They walked along a piece, an it wasn't lU
until they come to a gate, where the old man knoc
ed a while before it was opened. They past in, a
there The boy seen "a great field, with.a fog rest
low on the ground, an the place all still and qui
except that, now an then, they could hear the C
of young children comm through the fog. tn
went on, au' came to n well that was in The mild
o. the field, an there they saw, through the fog,
great multitude o children pressing about the w
an dhrinkin', an sprinklin' themselves with Il
wather, out o little mugs they carried in the
hands.
"'TAose,' said the old man, ARE the souls
children that died without BAPTISM says he, "a
here they spend their time, without %suiferin' al
pain, or havin' any pleasure
They passed or through the field, an came
another, whore they saw a sight of fine ladies a
gentlemen welkin' arm in arm, under I'll
SHADE Of trees, an the sun shinin' a
the place adorned with flowers an shrubs of q
sorts, an streams, an every whole ha' p'orth,
grand houses in groves, an music, an laughir
an dancin', an the best of attn an dhrinkin'.
Who are these, father said the boy, that seen
10 agree so well, an live so happyY They a
the married people, says the father, that liv,
up to their duty in the world, that was consta
an thrue to one another in their t~hroubles, tn
never changed their mind, nor looked afther 9th
people, nor misbefayed in any one way 'Ovo
says the boy.
well an good, they passed through that plao
an as they were comm near it, they heard Ii
greatest wrangling an ~raeketing in the worl
calm OF names, an poll-talkin', and cursin' a
%swe@rin'. In thcy come into a great field, an the
seen a pOWer o. ncople man am uorna ba,o;