The Van Buren press., 1873-07-15
MISCELLANY.
The Chained Host.

The potato famine ia Ireland was no
where felt more severely than in that
part Of the country where the following
story is told as a true talo.
In small village on one Of the most
barren districts of the west Of Ireland
there lived a very poor widow, whose on
| ly Inheritance from her husband were
two healthy children, girls, OF the re-
spective ages Of three and FIVE. Pain
! fully and by the utmost effort she had
contrived to pass two years of her sor-
rowful widowhood. Bad and scanty
food, obtained only by labor too great
! for her delicate frame, had at last thrown
her upon her sick bed. and death, in pity
removed her in few days and without
great suffering from her earthly troubles
! The poverty of the whole parish was so
great that nothing could be done for the
poor orphans All the neighbors, with
the utmost desire to help, were too fam.
inc stricken, and heard their own chill
dren too often cry in vain for bread, to
assist others.
:" If the children could only be got to
Kilburn, village some miles distant,
said one Of the peighbors, after the poor
mother had been buried, "a brother of
their father lives there, and he could not
possibly refuse to take care of them,
"But matters arc as bad there as here,
replied another, and fear they will be
no better Off there.
cit cannot be possibly worse there
than here, for nothing but starvation
stares them in the face If we send them
to their relations we have done our duty.
We cannot possibly keep them here
SO carrier, who was going near 10
Kilburn, as an act Of charity, took the
two g4l 4ls-Lizzie was seven now and
MarySRas fve-in his cart with him.
The timid children kept very quiet and
close together, and the carrier hardly
looked at them. Towards noon they
reached the spot where the cart would
turn Off The man lifted them out, show
ing them the road to the left, and bade
them 90 straight forward, and if they did
not turn from the highroad they would
in about two hours come to the place.
He then drove Off The children sobbed
out good bye, " and looked after him
as long AS they could see the least spcck
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,
Get up, Mary we must not stay here,
if we wish to get to Kilburn. We cannot
ctnn hare on the road. -
II am so hungry" sobbcd Mary
"We have had nothing to eat all day, -
And again they both began to cry for
Lizzie was equally hungry
The children were very weak, and could
only drag themselves slowly along. Hand
in hand they tottcred on. AT last Lizzie
fanced she saw Il house, and pointed TO
the SPOT. But it took them more than
quarters Of an hour before they reach
ed the farm house, for such it proved to
be- With hestating steps they entered
the yard, for they had never begged be
fore in spite Of their former misery. But
at this moment they could think Of moth
ing else but their terrible hunger When
a few steps from the house they heard
the farmer violently scolding one OF his
men. Then be went into the house,
Gercely closed the door after him, 50 as
to make the windows rattle, continuing
his abuse all the time. The children ter.
rilicd, stood still at the door until the
voice ceased Then Lizzie opened the
door and both children entered. The
farmer sat in an arm chair by the fire.
"Well what do you waati' he harsh
w asked the children, who were teo
| frightened to utter word and to tell
their errand Cant you speak ? he
asked more roughly.
Lizzie at last took Courage, and said
gently: "Cn, if you would be so good
as 20 Rive us tho least little bitt eat-a
small piece Of bread or few potatoes. ,
IL thought so, shouted the farmer
81 WAS sure you were nothing but beg
gers, although you do not seem to be-
long to this neghborhood We have
plenty Of those here, and do not want
them to como from other parts. we
have not bread for ourselves in these
hard times. You will get nothing here
BE off this moment
The children, both drsadfully fright
sned, began to cry bitterly.
That will not do you any good,
continued the man "that kind Of whn-
ING is nothing new to me, and won't
move me. Let your parents feed you;
but they no doubt prefer idling rather
than getting their living by honest Ia