The weekly democratic statesman. [volume] (Austin, Tex.) 1871-1883, 1873-07-24

A"4'A N- - tltN NLlI1
In small village income Of the most bar
rem districts Of the West of Ireland, there
lived a very poor widow. whose sole inner
itance from her husband were two healthy
children, girls, at the respective ages Of
three and i've. Painfully and by the ut
most efforts she had contrived to pass two
years Of her s0rrOWful 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 q few DAYS. and
without much 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 famine
stricken, and heard their own children too
often cry in vain for bread, to assist Others.
IF the children could only be got to
Kilburn, a 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. y
"But matters are as bad there as here. -
replied another, land fear they will be no
better off there.
st cannot possibly be worse than here,
for nothing but starvation stares them in
the face. If we send them to their rela-.
tons We have done our duty We cannot
possibly keep them here.n
So a carrier, who was going near Kill
burn, as an act of charity, took the two
girls-Lizzie was seven now and Mary five
lin his cart with him. The timid children
kept very quiet and close together, and the
carrier hardly looked at them. Toward
noon they reached the spot where the cart
would turn of. The man lifted them out,
and showed them the way to the left. and
bid them go straight forward, and if they
did not 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 a 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
seated herself on the grass, and said:
''Get up, Mary; we must not stay here if
we wish to get to Kilbun. We cannot stop
here ON the road.
81 am so 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 children were very weak and could
only drag themselves slowly along. Hand
in hand they tottered on. At last Lizzie
faRcied she saw house, and pointed to-
ward the spot, but it took them more than
quarter of an hour before they reached the
farmhouse, for such it proved to be. With
hesitating steps they entered the yard, for
they had never begged before, in spite of
their former misery. But at this moment
they could think of nothing else but their
terrible hunger, When few steps from
the house, they heard the farmer violently
scolding one of his men. Then he went
into the house, fercely closed the door after
him, so as to make the windows rattle, con-
tinuing his abuse all the time. The chill
dren, terrified, 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.
tWell, what do you wantg' he harshly
asked the children, who were too frightened
to utter word or tell their erFand. "Can't
! you speakg" he asked, more roughly.
Lizzie at last took courage, and said gently
tOh, if you would be so good as to give us
the least little bite to eat--a small piece of
bread or a few potatoes"
81 thought so, shouted the farmer; 81
was sure you were nothing but beggars, al
though you do not seem to belong to this
neighborhood We have plenty of those
here, and do not want them to come from
other parts. We have not bread for our
selves in these hard times You will get
nothing here. BE off, this momentp'
The children, both dreadfully freight
ened, began to. cry bitterly.
''That will not do any good, - continued
the man; shat kind of whining is nothing
new to me. Let your parents feed you; but
they, no doubt, prefer idling rather thar
getting their living by honest labor"
''Our parents are both dead, said Lizzie
81 thought so, replied the farmer
whenever children are sent out to beg, theil
father and mother are always dead or al
least their father. This is mere excuse fol
beggars. Be off this minuter
1--WE have not eaten morsel the whole
; day. pleaded Lizzie. eve are so tired
r that we cannot move a step. If you would
but give us the least little bit to eat, we ar
7 so hungry"
Il have told you would not. Began
get nothing here"
The farmer got up with threatening
look. Lizzie quickly opened the door anC
drew her sister with her. The children
again stood in the farmyard, but knew no
what to do Suddenly little Mary drew he
! hand from her sisters clasp, and went {,
| the other side of the yard; there was
fierce dog chained; his dinner stood befor
/; him in a wooden basin. Mary put her hant
r into the basin and began to eat with tn
dog. Lizzie went nearer and saw that il
e the basin there were some liquor in whicI
D few pieces of bread and some boiled pota
: toes were floating. She, likewise, coul'
= not resist; she had but one feeling-that o
the most gnawing hunger; she took som
of the bread and potatoes, and ate then
: greedily.
The dog, not accustomed to such guests
: looked at the children full of establishment
e he drew back, then sat down and left then
, his dinner. At this moment the farme
: came into the yard he wished to Sc
: whether the children had really left, ant
i then he saw this singular scene. The do
was noted for his ferceness, and feare'
s alike by old and young; he was obliged +
e be constantly chained. No one dared +
D come near him except his master Evel
E the servant put his food before him in tn
4 most cautious manner. In the first momen
c the man thought of nothing but the fearfu
y danger in which the children were, AM
walking quickly toward them, he ex
5 claimed
+ Don't you see the dogg Tie viii tea
s you to pieces"
r But suddenly he stopped, as II rooted d
! the ground the dog had got up again ant
: gone near the children, then he looked a
$ his master and wagged his tail It scenes
r as if he wished to say:
Z Don't drive my guests away
{ AT that sight great change came owe
b the man; the spectacle before him acte
hkean electric shock, and feelings such as h
l had mover had before seemed to stir With
: him
The children had risen, terrified at tn
o call Of the man, fearful Of punishment fo
{ having eaten, with downcast eyes At last
e after several minutes silence, the farme
e asked:
( .Are you really 50 fearfllly hungry tina
5 you do not even despise the dogs food
B Come in, thenl you shall have something
!. taking them By the hand, he led them int
= tho hnuan roII7ur ont ~, fhr rorun,r7 ffftf1