The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1870-07-03

life to you, Sir Robert, an many thank
for your kind treatment-only be littl,
mare partikler about agoin' to prayers an
fother religious duties, Is the clergy say
Sir Robert had ae0of6d to rekindle hi
pipe, and Shawn, seizing from the side
| board the nearest bottle to him, placed i
between his inner coat and cothansore tout
side, or great coat, moved more leisurely
out of the hall than1he had entered it; hii
worried and indignant entertainer (againsi
his willy following fast behind him, vowine
fierce vengeance against the menials if they
ever permitted his steps to pollnte the
threshold again.
Shawn now directed his steps to the
cabin of his sister, Nancy Mullowny, alias
Loughnan, which was distant about a mile
from the hall Nancy was, at the time now
treated of, youthful widow, with the care
of q coutAe of infant children and few
acres of ground, with some cattle left her
by her late husband, Tom Lougbnan. She
was ras rather COmely in person, and 1:
gentle, kind-hearted, affectionate creature
and was, rdingly-despite her brothers
evil reputati0n-a general favorite among
her scattered neighbCrs. She possessed
also, in a high degree, her country
strong religious feelings, and felt, of course,
keenly and bitterly the infamy of her
brothers course, SO that for some time past
they seldom exchanged words, except
when, at long intervals, he found it con-
venient,. as now, t0 make her cabin an
asylum for few hours.
His present unlooked-f for and most I'M
welcome visit was source of peculiar an
noyance, az the youngest of her children
was apparently sick to death, and she had,
that morning. promise from Father Ber-
nard, that he would visit the child in the
evesl1 sa sss 49,
s Sreshee he saia dnsng Himself elf
ON a seat neal. theatre, while she moved to
the opposite end Of the little kitchen on
his entrance but know how it is there's
no welcome for me anywhere, among high
or low, strangers or friends, bekase I'm
too loyal"
nobody was ever gladder to See another
than we used to be to see you, eyer and
always till-till-"
swell, to give the devil his due, you
wor always the best o. the family. So here
sit down and take a toothful o. this"-he
drew forth the bottle of brandy he had
taken from the hail-"an' tell us how
mo, John, you know was never fond
o. the dhram dhrinkin'. But I'm glad to
hear you akin nathrel questions. May
the Lord touch your heart, and put nathrel
feelin' into it."
Well, Nancy, as you won't have. a
taste, must take pull myself. Here's
your health /; an'rale beautiful stuff it is.
An how's the poor gorlaghs? It's long
since saw thim."
"Wan o. them, little ba,onyeen is, I'm
afraid, John, goin'-goin' to q betther
world 1.-THE eyes of the mother filed with
but any way" she continued,
rubbing them away with her hand, !" it
does my heart good to hear You inquirin'
that way for them"
CAM why wouldn't have love an likin'
for my own flesh an blood, and the
purthiest little craithers in the parish /
know people ses I'm this an that ; but You
see now have the natural affection still.
Yis, Nancy, an to show you I've a leanin'
too, even for the clargy, that they say I'm
them, this minnit, in this neighborhood,
an can tell them something that might
save them from HARM"
ellis sister looked eagerly into his face,
but there was something in its expression
that instantly repressed the information
the moment. "John," she said, starting
from his side, to which she had gradually
"there is wickedness still in
your countenance, an it's for no good you
are maxim these inquiries"
"Now, Nancy, to show you that you're
an 0nShough, an suspecCln me In the
wrong, bring me to the house the priests
is in, an I'll tell them what know to
your face, or I'll tell it to you now, an you
can carry it to them yourself, while stay
here until you return"
ono, no, no. john" she exclaimed We
hemeptly; "I see now what you're afther.
You want to get intelligence out o. me, that
don't know myself, an that I'd pull the
tongue out sooner than tell you, If did.
o, God forgive you, John, for your harden
ed heart an all the disgrace you're briDgin'
on our name"
"Hould your tongue an don't aggravate
me any farther, ye drunken barge;' he
took another long pull from the bottIe-'if
wasn't tindher- hearted, I'd have yourself
md yer hrats transported many n long
day ago for yer thricks in neglectin' wor-
ship and helpin' priests, that it's the duty
Nv u loyal man or woman tn Inform agiu
an take care how soon I'D do it. still"
"An' if you did to- morrow, I'D prefer far
nfore helpin you in your deviIish schemes,
that tlre curse % Gud III follow, sooner or
later. o, John, john, d" you reminder |
long ago when we used to he kneeljn' to- |
vetIIer TO our poor mother (the heavens be |
her he'd this day y, and You uaed to he |