The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1868-03-01

Gordon dismOunted, and knocked at the
door, which was Immediately opened by an
young men. "What do you want here. at
this hour of the night ~ demanded the wo-
man. els therein asick man in the house %
inquired the priest. =" There is-my hus-
band-he is dying" Well, I was sent for
to see him am the priest.n " Priest Z"
stood revealed before her. "Yes-I am the
priest, come all the way from Toronto to
see him, as he wished me to dO,n was the
quiet rejoinder. "Then you may 60 as you
came, for no priest will cross this threshold
if can help it, no matter who wants to see
him." and saying this, the mistress of the
house shut the door on Father Gordon and
his guide, who was overwhelmed with con-
fusion at the untoward result. TO think
that should bring your reverence all this
distance, and only to have the door shut in
yogr face: ! can't foFgive myself; but It, I
n.anMyou ' did you your duty, no more ga and
respect you for it. But, )" added tho priest,
/ must be turning my horses head home
ward" "NO, your reverence, not q step,
you'll 60 h1ck this blessed night, if my name
is Spil1ane;' you'll STOP. at my house-'tis
as Comfortable as we can. 1t win be time
enough to think of returning tomorrow"
Be it so, in Gods name, n said Father Cor
don. soon reached the house, where
q good supper and q clean bed made some
amends for the long ride and the keen dis
soon in deep slumber, in which, perhaps,
he may have beheld again the group in the
doorway, lit up by the Pickering candle, and
heard the words, g No priest will CROSS this
threshold if can help it," when he was
suddenly awakened by D great noise OF clat-
entered the room. !" What is the matter,
Spillane f'7 "Why, then, your reverence,
it is O strange matter-the strangest matter
I ever heard of-young Marshall has brought
his father to you, as you wouldn't be al
lowed to come to him, }" replied the host
priest, in his first impulse of astonishment.
"Faith, then, tits no jest at all, your rever-
ence, but the truth, as Pm q sinner, and
that's no lie. any way said Spillane. 1t
was the literal truth. When the dying man
heard how the priest had been denied ad-
intensely afflicted; but he in vain sought
to move the stern obduracy of his wife,
Not one belonging to me ever disgraced
himself by turning Papist, and you shan't
be the enc to commence" The poor woman
believed she was only doing her duty, and
forgot her troubles in sleep. But the dying
man was inconsolable, and he moaned and
wept in a manner to touch the heart of one
of his sons, to whom he addressed the most
earnest entreat1eS UnaG ne ullRnC pc alOWeN
to die, as he wished to Moved alike by
the tears and opportunities of his father,
the son atlength yielded. But what was to
be done z sThe priest could not enter the
house-his mother would not allow that
how, then, could his fathers wish be accom-
plisheds There was only one way of doing
it, and that was quickly resolved upon and
adopted. Carefully wrapping the dying
man in the clothes in which he lay, the
son raised him gently ON his back, and,
stealing softlyHNith his precious burden, he
crossed the threshold with noiseless step,
and bore it a mile through the dark forest
to the house in which the priest fdAnd shell
ter for the night, and there laid it down in
safety. Whether it were that nature rallied
her failing resources, or that the spirit rose
superior to the frailty of the body, it may
be difficult to say but the, father preserved
strength enough to be received into the
Church, and prepared for death, and to be
brought back to his own home, in which he
shortly after breathed his last. For several
years, or as long as his mother lived, the
son did not separate from her communion;
but he afterward became Catholic, and is
now the wealthy head of large Catholic
family, all good and religious, and full of
worldly prosperity.
One of the Incidents connected with Bish-
op England's missionary labors is given as
follows:
One evening the bishop, who was on this
occasion accompanied by one of his few
'spinane Sullivan / am not certain which.