The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1868-02-16
y NEW ORLEANS, SUNDAY MORNING., FEBRUARY Is, 1861,

one third leave you one hall, so that you
must be kind and just to her."
The voice died sway; and for many mo- |
msnts there was deep silence in tho room.
Evening was settling down upon tho city,
tho noises Of the day were gradually passing
away, and the pleased quiet seemed to make
itself felt by the sick man.
= {" Margaret ~ said the voice from bod
81 have not lived vel, but can't die with
out making my peace with God. Will you
60 for the priest ~
"You will be alone, she answered in
low, awe-stricken tone.
III do not fear to be alone Go, for
Unjust speak to him about my poor Ellen"
She caught up shawl, stool for one mo-
ment by the bedside, gazing down upon the
poor, white face that lay so feebly upon the
pillow, then without word, hurried out of
the house in obedience to his commands.
Left alone, the sick man turned bis head
slowly round until his dim eyes could catch
glimpse of the only picture on the wall, a
rude but touching print of the thorn CROWN
ed Saviour. ---
earlier years, and whispered to him OF du-
ties left undone, of wanderings from virtues
| path, of forgetfulness of God, of graces
abused and unanswered; and his dim eyes
| filed with contrition's holy tears.
| Sweet Jesus m he sighed, have mercy
on me, o sinner!'
o beautiful and potent prayer AT it's
utterance, who can doubt that unseen angels
pressed round that lonely bed, and minis
tered to the sufferer there.
Il Blessed mother!' spoke the sorrowing
voice, "pray for me and for her, my orphan
NIECE
Wen did the sick man know that in this
lowly valley of tears She was indeed the
Mother of Mercy, our sweetness and our
hopel
In the stiffness round, him, his mind wan
dered away to his own Creep Isle; and his
4 tender love for his native land, and keen
regret at leaving her, came wildly back to
his thoughts as he moaned: ~ am sailing
sailing far away from Ireland, far away from
the home 1 love
O. bid the ship sail on sail and hold fast to thee
The around battle Irish ground. they are s0rei'
|
The twilight was slowly passing into
night, and only the sharp chirp OF cricket
was heard in that silent room.
Life was struggling fearfully for the few
moments that yet remained, while its agony
might have been seen in the large drops tha
stood, icy and profuse, upon the pailid brow
Only that sweet, sorrowing face pictured OF
the wall, locked pityingly down upon the
| lonely man, while those outstretched arms
seemed longing to embrace and hold him up
r Now and then, through the stiffness, aut
tered the words: "Jesus! Mary! Joseph!'
r and the crickct's chirp upon the hearth WA
: answered by long and mournful signs. :
CHOW the ocean moans!" he murmured.
The tide of life was indeed breaking fas
upon the shores of the unknown world
while the imprisoned soul, like feeble yes
sci, was struggling with the surging waters
all uncertain of its fate.
Youth and strength and friends and HON
would soon be left behind.
Hurried steps and whispered voices wer
= heard outside the door.
The sick man rallied from his stupor, an
wildly cropping with his hands IN the dark
u ness, he called aloud: ELLEN! Elem!
And even as he spoke, darkness settle
over the vast city and it was night.
q --eH CHAPTER II.
The Northumberland had been severe
o weeks at sea, and its band of emigrants ha
|, already passed FROM state of noisy grie
G to that of sorrowihg, silent resignation.
# Many regretted, whom too late, that the
: had ever left their native land, and locke
with apprehension toward that strang
/ country, on whose shores they were. te sfia