The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-08-06


red collars. .Ts "ys$aifasyE ~ 2
'FGod help mel Sure, I can only dier'
tHow long have you been ploughinga"
said the officer. s1aIp t.Es h $l,SSsSs
''Sence daybreak, sir. Woa! An hard
work have had; every one rupnin' TO
me sence breakfast, AKIN me did Z see
the man that run away. Steady, therep',
The labofer sulkily keeping his back to- :
ward the prison warders.
"He is supposed to have swan the
river, said the officer; ''and If so, and
you have been here since daybreak, he
could not have got over without you
seeing him."
"Sorra haporte I see. sure, If he did,
an he must be brave swimmer, to come
across that river this time o. year, nm
the wather like ice, %said the plough-boy
with an incredulous grin; ''sure he might
land down farther, it's grad'a' al narrar,
but anyhow see nothin'-Conshume ye,
straight - he growled at the horse, and
bending double over the plow, furrowed
on. The officer called his men hurriedly
back to the country road. ,. :,
The long day drew to close, and
when Kate came to call the plough-boy
to his supper, whispering that there was
no one in but her father and mother, ne!
felt as Il he had lived lifetime in the.
past twenty four hours.
The farmer laughed heartily in telling
some of the stories which were rife
about the prisoners disappearance. His
body had been picked up four miles
down the river, his clothes had been
found by turnkey under bush, and
his handouts had been picked up-6led
hol n IN,
"Faith, I bursted laughin'," said Pat
Moran, "when knew that Martin Leary
had them welded into linch-pins, and
that Katy had the clothes buried in last
years manure hape!
So they ohatted pleasantly and secure
ly, while the rescued man sat silent from
thankfulness and gratitude, only casting
side looks at Kate and signing heavily.
"Musha, man, don't be sighin'!' cried
the farmer, jocosely; you'll be kickin'
up yer heels at your weddin' in Ameriky
this time twelvemonth, phase God"
'tNo, Mister Moran, I'll never marry
any one in Ameriky." answered Welsh.
Kate got up to put on fresh fuel i'm
mediately.
"Och, never fear, you WILL" replied
the farmer, with good-natured obtusc
ness.
"Musha, Misther Moran, 'tisn't every
man 'ud give his daughter to one like
me-" said Welsh, in low tone.
"Arrah, Tim, agra, who'd think the
worse O. you for having got into trouble
an got out again?" pursued the farmer.
"Ah, 'tisn't every one is like you,"
said Welsh, signing.
ooh, sure no one will know anything
in Ameriky, Tim; that's where you're
goin' I suppose?" said Mrs. Moran,
gravely and coldly.
Eyes, ma'am," answered Welsh "I
hope So"
The good woman was for more acute
than her husband, and disliking the turn
the conversation was taking, began to
introduce other topics; but with little
success, rs her husband grew sleepy and
stupid, Kate sat quite silent, and Welsh
was sad. Thus they sat until IL had
struck, and then Welsh and the farmer
rose, to walk on to the cross roads, where
the car was to be in readiness, with his
relatives. as convoy and body guard.
Welsh shook Mrs. Moran's hard land
and kissed it in the fulness Of his emo
ton, uttering broken words of gratitude
and blessing. Then he turned to Kate,
who was weeping silently; he strove to
opcah, UuG WOruS .ldlleQ him, ana he
grasped her hand passionately and turn
ed away.
"I'll shut the gate afther ye, /" said Kate,
following them out into the darkness.
So she did, and Welsh delayed q mo
ment, helping her to find the loop and
staple, probably; though he strove to put
a'few hasty words together, which had
no reference to the gate.
"Keep up yere heart, Kate, agra" he
whispered; "I'll send ye lether whin I
get safe over. plase Godw
Welsh sailed for England in n. small
coasting vessel, and thence from LIVER
pool, where he remained concealed for
some weeks until the ardor of the PR
suit after him had abated, he embarked
on board n fast sailing vessel-for there
were no steamers in those dnys-for
America. When he landed, he sought
the home of n relative who had been set
tied in the new country for some years,
aud by industry and strict honesty-for
the dreadful lesson taught him was not
wasted-he very soon became independ-
ent of his cousin, and had his own snug
house and thriving farm.
He wrote regularly to the Morans; to
the father frat, then to the mother, and
lastly TO the daughter. When he had
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