The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1870-04-05
Where's Billy Scanlan ? | want to

" He's here, father said Peter, taking
Billy by the hand, and leading him to
the bedside.
" Write what I bid yc, Billy, and be
quick for havn't long time before me
here. | die good Catholic, although
Father o. O'liaferty won't give me the gen
cral rites"
a general chorus of muttcred 40 =
musha, mushaw was now heard through
the room but whether in grief over the
sad fate Of the dying man, or the I'M
hlnching severity of the priest, is hard to
say.
4 die in peace with all my neighbors
and all mankind.'
Another chorus Of the company Scent
ed to approve their characteristic express
sious.
L bequoath unto my son Peter--and
never was there better sou, or dacent-
er have you that down? bequeath
TO my son Peter the whole Of my two
farms OF Killimundoonory and Knock
sheboora. with the talIow meadows be-
hind )ynches house. the forge and right
VI ONl WI VIC lJbOlHu w.. SlNC Illhi
and much good may it do hiu-Lanty
Ca>sarn's acre, and the huary fields, with
the lime kiln and that reminds me that
my mouth is just as dry. Let nc taste
what yo have in the jug" Here the dy-
ing man took very hearty pull. and eem-
ed considerably refreshed by it.
"Whete was /, Billy Scanlan?" says
he 20, remember it was at the lime
kiln. | leave hin-thats Peter, mean
the two potato gardens at Noonan's
Well; and it is the elegant crops that
grow there"
"An't you getting weak, father dor-
lin" says Peter, who began to be afraid
Of my fathers Ioquaciousness for, to say
the truth, the punch got into his head,
and he WAS greatly disposed to talk.
q" | am Peter, my son" says he; " |
am getting weaker; just touch my lips
agin with the jug. All! Peter, Peter,
you watcrcd The drink"
No, indeed, father, but it's the taste
is leavin' you" says Peter; and again Il
low chorus Of compassionate pity muir
INJURED through the cabin.
Well, Pm nearly done, now says my
father; " there's only one plot of grounl
remaining, and put it on you Peter--as
We wish to live a good man, and die with
the same easy heart as do now-that ye
mind my last words to ye here. Are ye
listening? arc the nyighbors listening
is Billy Seaman listeningY'
Yes, sir, yes, father, we're all mind
ing" chorused the audience.
Well, then, it's my last will and test
ament, and may-givc me the jug"-and
here he took a long drink" and may
that blessed liquor be poisoned to me if
I'm not as eager about this as every
part of the will; [ say, then, L bcqueath
the little plot at the cross roads to poor
Con Cregan, for he has a heavy charge,
and is an honest and as Woodworking a
man as ever knew BE a friend to him,
Peter dear never let him want while We
have it yoursell--think Of me on my
deathbed whenever he asks ye for any
trihe. Is it down, Billy Scanlan ?-the
two acres at the cross roads to Con Gre
gan and his heirs in Secla scclorm? All,
blessed be the saints but | feel my heart
lighter after that" says he -" a good
work makes an easy conscience And
now I'll drink all the company's good
health, and many happy returns"
What he was going to add there's no
saying but Peter who was now terribly
frightened at the lively tone the sick man
was assuming, hurried all the people into
another room to let his father die in
peace.
When they were all gone Peter slipped
back to my father, who was putting on
his brogues in corner, " Con, says he,
"ye did it all well; but sure that was a
joke about the two acres at the cross
roads"
"Of course it was, Peter" says he,-
sure it was all joke, for the matter of
that. Won't | make the neighbors laugh
hearty tomorrow when tell them all
about it,"
You won't be mean enough to betray
me Z" says Peter, trembling with fright.
Sure yc wouldn't be mean enough to
go against yer fathers diving words ?"