New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1870-07-24
'-- [Por the Sunday Republican.l
HUNG IN THE WRONG.
A STORY OF ireland.
BY AN FRESHMAN.

BY AN FRESHMAN.
May God forgive you this night. Fral
Atwood wherever you may be, for q
tx May God forgive your - s.
ly And the mother nestled her little OF
closer to her bosom, and repeated Il
prayer over and over again,
Hush, mother; there is no wrong dor
in this house, whatever Father Flynn ma
8 say. We are both satisfied with our 10
: There, do not weep, dear mother; you knO
YOU were willing that it should be as
t is"
ooh! no! mo-"
"Oh motherw And the speaker locke
in her mothers face, with beautiful an
sad expression.
It was in one of these rude, thatche
cabins which are scattered over the ric
district of country, comprising the count.
| Meath, where the scene of our story opens
The country round afforded abundant ad
vantages in agricultural pursuits, and bu
for the relations OF lord and tenant, ant
the various conditions under which land i
: maintained and titles granted, would hav,
raised up a prosperous and cOntented people
, The Earl of Meath, who owned this enormous
plateau of country, knew little of the sys
tenn under which his revenues poured in, and
cared less. The property itself was divided
into large sections, under stewardship, and
parcelled off again into small tracts to suit
the capital or resources OF the tenants. Be
yond this, he had no existence in the cOun
ty, and might as well have resided in
Japan. The sympathy of these landlords,
also, or their interest in the prospects of
these working people, need no comment
| from us. There is dark history spread
upon the criminal calendars of Ireland,
which explains with better precision the
aggressiOnS OF the one, and the suffering
and crime of the other. No wonder that
there is eternal hatred mutually fostered
between them; that the tenant in his native
right challenges the importation of their
masters or stewards from England or any
| other country; or that when a cruel blow is
struck, or reprOachful act committed, there
should be shelter and concealment given
to the criminal in defiance of law and reli-
| giOn. People who live upon piece Of land,
| worked and improved by their ancestors
| for generations before, become at last
so identified with the very soil itself,
that they can not fully realize the fact,
that they are but tenants at will, "
and may be elected by force, and
without remedy, by those who have both
the power and the will Indeed it is OILY
when some neighbOr less fortunate, whose
whole substance fails TO make up the enor-
nous rents, and is obliged to quit the dwell
ling where he, and his father before him
were born, with his little ones and his wife
to beg or to die, that even the most prosper
Gus feel the painful truth.
The little house we referred to, stood
about midway between Trim and Navin and
few miles eastward of Kells. During the
races in these little towns the county along
was the scene OF many gay entertainment,
and many frolic The county magistrate
and schOolmaster presided over meetings
and social gatherings, settling all manner of
debates and adjusting questions in agricul-
ture, racing or stock raising. and it was
praised the pOtheen, although he invariably
brought the hospitable host to grief and
much expense. |
Old John Keogh, who lived here, was |
warm friend to his country, and was de- |
scended from good stock. A belief is cur
rent that diseases can be cured by the appli-
cation of their blood, and often have we
witnessed person of this favored name
cOolly insert a knife into his hand or arm,
and, without disturbing muscle in
his face. catch the drops of blood
in a vessel, bind up the wound again, and
give the blood to the afflicted. under certain
and enjOining certain deyotiOns
20 be made during the application. This fact,
in itself, made Keogh an intiu-
entail man. Once he was the pride of the
country at throwing a stone or turning out
|
If during the annual blowing matches, for
us straight furrOw, much TO the discom-
iture Of the young men. But all these
hings were past for John his only solici-
ude now was his daughter Ellen, the same
vho now sat with her mother in the little
abin.
While they sat thus, bordering upon the
vent, which ere tomorrow sun would set
Tould separate them perhaps forever. The
Og rose from before the smouldering turf
re, with a growl, and proceeded toward
be door. Ellen rose, drew her faded shawl |
bout her head and proceeded into the
arden.
''Oh, mother, mothern'
Her father entered, gazed upon his wife
nd child, and brushed away tear with :
le cuff Of his rough frieze coat.
ELLEN, not gone yet9 MY child must
ait till she sees her fathers gray hairs and .
Id age held up to mockcry; Ellen will then !
His thin locks were dusty and damp from {
aveling. He had departed early that ,
forming, and had not returned until now.
God forgive you, Frank Atwood, where |
yer you may be! God forgive your IL
IF his reverence thinks" muttered the '
Id man, as he paced up and down, ''that |
g can send away my child-if he thinks |
nd here his face grew paler, and his brows t
arkened. I
I"Ellen," he resumed aloud. ''you are to ap-
ear before the congregation tomorrow. 3
18th shame on your face, to be driven out a
ON here in company with the vagabond {
ho wronged you. You are to be de- c
Ounced from the alter as a guilty thing, +
18th Gains mark upon your forehead Are i
OIL prepared for that my child! ?" h
"My dear, dear father, have mercyr' i
John KeOgh," exclaimed her mother; Il
are you to resist the church by your hor- S
d words, and ruin your child If Father t
lynn sends her away, what power of yours
IN save her! Oh, its my own heart that's
rOken ~
will you go, my child p
II will die, father
And the old man piously crossed himself
I'd vowed something, and he took his +
,ughter in his arms and while he grew
int with the dire thoughts that oppressed
m, he pressed her fair face to his bosom
I'd sighed heavily y
You shall not go my child" he added. s
Ike you. l will shield you while l have 4
cath, but you must remain here. There
wv, kiss me, my child.I d
"Oh, father, how kind and good you f
,er =
You must stay" he repeated, ''and COM
rt your mother. Do you hear, my child ~ O
Yes, father And his child smoothed t
ack ms stray white hairs and again kissed t.
I'M with childish affection. n
Father. won't you be good and kind to
rank, because love him so well! If you h
new how good he is know you would u
our enemy. my child" Il
"Oh no, father, my husband He hOnors Il
OIL very much indeed he does
But tomorrow, my child, tomorrow" Il
No matter, father about tomorrow. n
i'll go with Frank" :.
Il will kill him, kill him cold. for he has :,
lken away my Child and broken INV h
cart"