The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1867-12-11

In the little church, and the man of God
: Made her q happy hside. .
THE BRoTHER~tM-LAWx
Love at first sight! It seemed
strange that Samuel Heyworth, O.
stout, fair-haired Lancashire farmer,
who had lived quietly at home with
his Old mother to the age of thirty,
cultivating his land, should fall pas
slonately IN love with the first Irish
girl he met; but so it is.
He was seated in the back parlor
of Maurice Kieman's farm house, of
,-Kilglassin, mentally contrasting the
truly Hibernian mixture of shabbi-
ness and elegance with his neat, yet
humble, Lancashire cottage, when
the door opened, and fairy vision
appeared, which put oil his critical
comparisons to flight in moment.
1t was the bodily presence of Miss
Kate Kieman, fresh from horse-b back,
IN her riding dress, her bright, black
eyes sparkling, and her cheeks roster
than usual, with exercise, while her
dark tresses, having escaped from
their restraining combs, flowed over
her shoulders in delightful entangle-
ment. A sweet, silvery voice said
(how mellifuous is the brogue of q
pretty daughter of ErinD ooh, I
thought my brother was here" and
the vision vanished.
Besides farming his own land, of
about one hundred acres in extent,
Samuel Heyworth added to his in
come by curing bacon and hams, and
his visit to Ireland waa for the pur-
pose of purchasing pigs. Crossing
the channel in the tedious sailing
packet, lit was in the year 1913, when
steamboats, were almost unknown
he had formed the acquaintance Of
Maurice Kieman, handsome, rud-
dy-complexioned, and curly-haired
young Irish squireen-a small for
mer. And the latter had with true
Celtic hospitality, invited him to pass
a few days at his estate, in the county
Louth, near Drogheda.
When Miss Kieman came down
dressed for dinner, Heyworth thought
she looked lovelier than ever, and
doubted whether so dashing lady
would ever accept the hand of man
who got his living by converting pigs
into bacon. After dinner, she sang
sweetly, to the accompaniment of q
somewhat jingling old piano-forte;
and Heyworth, who heard little
music, save the feeble quavering of
his mothers hymns, was fairly en-
chanted. All this while, Maurice sat
at the table, whereon smoked com
Portable jug of whiskey punch, with
his chair tilted back, and q favorite
pointers head on his knee, playing
crlbbage with Thady, his faithful old
family servant. Could there be a
greater change than this scene to q
man who, for the last ten years,
had spent nearly every week day
evening reading Cooks voyages aloud
to his mother, while she knitted
lnterminable stockings by the fire.
side? Can we wonder that, under
the combined influences of Irish
melody, Irish heartiness, Irish beau
ty and Irish whiskey, the shy,
awkward Englishman, before he had
been twenty-four hours under an
Irish roof, declared his love to nm
Irish lady. Heyworth took the op-
Portunlty of speaking, when Maurice
and Thady had left the room for q
few minutes. What was Miss Kie-
mans reply? She turned pale, trem-
b!ed slightly, and then said, in a
dIgnified, but somewhat melancholy
tone:
"Mr. Heyworth. you must speak to
my brother"
Next day, Kieman had to atteud
the quarter session at Drogheda, leav-
= ing Heyworth to wander about the
ln-kept acres of Kilglassion, or, what
was was more attractive, to converse with
MISS heman, who, apparently un-
needing his declaration of love. dis
played that pleasing combination Of
easy freedom and maiden modesty.
for which Irish ladies ara uneoua led
Evening arrived. '"' "'ieo'
-, "There's o horses hoof." said
Thady. OAHU
"There's eight of 'em, Thady "an.
swered lad. 81"
Presently Mr.. Kieman, accomna.
MED by another gentleman, galloped
up the forlorn avenue, and flung him.
self off his horse.