New national era. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1870-1874, 1873-04-10
THE CHAINED HOST.

THE CHAINED HOST.
The potato famine in Ireland was nowhere
felt more severely than in that part Of the
country where the following story i, told as
true tale:
In a small village i'll one of the most bar
rem districts of the west of ireland, there
lived very poor widow whose sole inheri-
lance from her husband were two healthy
children, girls, of the respective ages OF three
and five. Painfully and by the utmost effort
she had contrved to pass two years of her
sorrowful widowhood. Bad and scanty food
obtained only by labor too great for her del
icate frame, had at last thrown her upon her
sick bed, and death, in pity, removed her in
a few days and without great suffering from
all her earthly troubles.
The poverty of the whole parish was SO
great that nothing could be done for the poor
orphans. All the ncghbors, with the ut
most desire to help, were too famine stricken,
and heard their own children too often cry
in vain for bread, to assist others.
"lf the children could only be got TO Kill
burma village some miles distant-said
one Of the neighbors, 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
Dut lilitttfS are a. bdl tItit a. mere,
replied another, land | fear they will be no
better of there"
at cannot possibly be worse than here,
for nothing but starvation stares them in the
face. FIVE send them to their relations, we
have done our duty. We cannot possibly
keep them here"
All were at last agreed upon this and as
there was a carrier who, on the next day, was
going near to Kilburn, he was requested, as
an act of charity, to take the children with
him. The man readily consented, and the
neighbors felt satisfied that they had done
all that could he required of them.
The carrier, as agreed, came the next day
and took the two girls Lizzie was seven
now, and Mary iiye-in his cart with him.
The timd 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 Of The man
lifted them out, showed them the road to the
left, and babe them go straight forward and
if they did not turn from the highroad they
would, in about two hours, come to the place.
He then drove oil. The children sobbed out,
goodbye" and looked after him as long as
thsy could see the least speck 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 seat
ed herself on the grass, and said: Get up,
Mary! we must not stay here, if we wish to
get to Kilburn. We cannot stop here on the
road"
~ am 50 hungry" sobbed Mary; 1--WE
have had nothing to eat all day."
And again they both began to cry; for
Lizzie was equally hungry. The poor chill
dren had gone 10 bed without food the night
before il was a Ion" time since they had a
full meal; the neighbors where they had
stayed since the death of their mother, had
not given them any breakfast, as the poor
people had really themselves nothing to eat
1t was now dinner time, but there was no
dinner for them.
"Come, Mary at last sad Lizzie, 1--WE |
must try TO get 10 some house; we may per- |
haps get a little bread or few potatoes. IfI
we stay here We shall starve; no one will !
bring Us anything 10 eat here"
"Oh! if our mother were but ali,ew eX- !
claimed the little one, Getting up with diff |
Guilty.
The children were very weak, and could |
only drag themselves slowly along. Hand in .
hand they t0ttcTed on. Several times Mary /
declared that she could 90 no further, and sat |
down on the highroad and it was with the
greatest difficulty that Lizzie persuaded her
to get up again and pursue their way. Al last
Lizzie fanced she saw house, and pointed
toward the spot. Now" said Mary, "wc ,
shall soon get something 10 eat we shall
find kind people there"
Ii took them more than a quarter of an
hour before they reached the farmhouse, for
such il proved TO be. With hesitatinc steps
they entered into the yard, for they had never
begged before in spite of their former misery.
But at this moment they could think of moth
ing else bat their terrible hunger. When "A
lev steps from the house they heard the
farmer violently -colding one VI his men.
Then he went into the house, IierCcly closed
the door after him, so as to- make the windows
rattle, continuing his abuse all the time.
The children, terrified anfwith beating hearts,
stood still AZ the door until the voice ceased.
Then Lizzie opened the door, and both chill
dren entered. The farmer sat in AN armchair
by the fire.
"Well, what do YOU want" he harshiy
asked the children, who were too frightened
TO utter a word and To tell their errand.
Cant you speak ~ he asked still more
roughly.
Lizzie at last took courage, and said gem
tly: "Oh, if you would be so good as TO give
vs. the least little bite to eat-a small piece
Of bread or few potatoes IL
81 thought So" shouted the farmer II
WAS sure you were nothing but beggars, al
though you do not seem 10 belong TO this :
We have plenty of those c
here. and do not want them 10 come from 2
,ther parts. We have not bread for our I