The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1873-06-27
THE JOURNAL.
THE CHAINED HOST.


most barren districts in the west OF
Ireland, there lived a very poor wild
ow, whose sole inheritance from her
husband were two healthy children,
girls, of the respective ages of three
and five. Painfully and by the ut
most effort she had contrved tc
pass two years of her sorrowful wild
owhood. Bad and scanty food, OBJ
tanned only by labor too great fol
her delicate frame, had at last
thrown her upon a sick Ued, and
death, in pity, removed her in a few
days and without great suffering
from her earthly troubles. The
| poverty of the whole parish was sc
great that nothing could be done
for the poor orphans. All the neigh
bors, with the utmost desire TO help,
were too famine-stncken, and heart
their own children too often crying
in vain for bread, to assist others,
"Ifthe children could only be goi
to Kilburn"-a village some miles
south-said one Of the neighbors
after the poor mother had been bur
led, ga brother of their father lives
there, and could not possibly refuse
TO take care Of them"
"But matters are as bad there al
here" replied another, sand / fea
they will be no better off there"
cit cannot possibly be worse thar
here, for nothing but starvation
stares them in the face. If we senC
them to their relations we have done
our duty. We cannot possibly keeE
them here"
| So 4 carrier, who was going neal
to Kilburn, as an act of ch arity tool
the two girls-Lizzie was seven and
Mary five now-in his cart with him
The timid children kept very quie
and close together, and the carrieI
hardly looked at them. Toward
noon they reached the spot where
the cart would turn of. The mar
lifted them out, showed them thu
road to the left, and Bade them sc
straight forward, and if they did no
turn from the high-road they would
in about Two hours come to The
place. He then drove off. The
children sobbed out ''good-by," and
looked after him as long as they
could see the least speek of the cart
and then they both began to cry.
Lizzie ceased her crying first; she
took hold of her little sisters hand
who had seated herself on the grass
and said: sect up Mary, We must
not stay here If we wish to get tC
Kilbun. We cannot stop here on
the road"
"I'm so hungry" sobbed Mary
"We have had nothing to cat al
day" And again they both began
to cry; for Lizzie was equally hun
cry.
The children were very weak, and
could only drag themselves slowly
along. Hand in hand they tottered
on. At last Lizzie fancied she saw
a house, and pointed to the spot
But it took them more than a quar-
ter of an hour before they reached
the farm house, for such it proved to
be. With hesitating steps they en-
tered the yard, for they had never
begged before, IN spite of their form
er misery. But at this moment
they could think of nothing else but
their terrible hunger. When q few
steps from the house they heard the
farmer violently scolding one of his
men. Then he went into the house,
fiercely closed the door after him, 50
as to make the windows rattle, con
tinuing his abuse all the time. The
terrified children stood still at the
door until the voice ceased. Then
Lizzie opened the door and both
children entered. The farmer sat
in an armchair by the fire.
t'Well, what do you want?" he
harshly asked the children, who
were too frightened to utter a word
and to tell their errand. "Can't you
speak!" he asked more roughly.
Lizzie at last took courage and
said gently, "Oh, if you would be so
good as TO give us the least little
bit to eat-a small piece of bread or
a few potatoes"
81 thought So" shouted the farm
er; 81 was sure you were nothing
but beggars, although you do not
seem to belong TO this neighbor-
hood. We have plenty of those here
and we do not want them to come
from other parts. We have not
bread for ourselves in these hard
times. Ycu will get nothing here.
Be off, this momentr'
The children, both terribly fright
ened, began to cry bitterly.
"That will do you no good" con
tinued the man "that kind of whin-
ing is nothing new to me, and wont
move me. Let your parents feed
you; but no doubt they prefer idling
rather than get their living by hon
est labor"
"Our parents are both dead" said
Lizzie.
81 thought so" replied the farmer
"Whenever children are sent out
to beg their father and mother are
always dead, or at least their father.
This is a mere excuse for begging.
Be Off this minutep
"We have not eaten q morsel OF
bread the whole day" pleaded Liz
zie. eve are so tired that we can
not move a step. If you would but
give us the least bit to eat, we are so
hungry"
81 have told you 1 would not.
Beggars get nothing here"
The farmer got up with a threat
ening look. Lizzie quickly opened
the door and drew her sister with
her. The children again stood in
the farm-yard, but knew not what to
do. Suddenly little Mary drew her
hand from her sisters clasp and
went Off TO the other side of the
yard; there was aflerce dog chained;
his dinner stood before him in q |
wooden basin. Mary put her hand
into the basin and began to eat with
the dog. Lizzie vent nearer, and
saw that in the basin there was
some liquor in which a few pieces
of bread and few potatoes were
floating. She. likewise, could not
resist; she had but one feeling-that