Connecticut western news., 1875-04-09
tempered and confidential than ever, and sought Julia and Owen.

sought Julia and Owen.
 "Come here, my colleen," OByrnt said in rather thick voice. II have made match for you with Martin. Gt over and sit by the side of him." '
 "With Martin, fatherl" the girl said looking with dismay at the stern, darl man she almost hated, and certainly feared. 'With Ownie, you mean"
 "Sorra bit of it, Julia; but Martin Martin, the master. Poor Ownie has nothin.
 "He's promised Heveran's farm father." s. .. i "No, my dear; it's me that has Hev eran's houldin'," Martin said, with { sinister smile; "and it's me you're goin' to marry" es '=" 1~-t -- .@
 Owen walked up to his brother, and, looking him straight in the face, said i1 Q clear, calm voice: "What do you mean, Martin MacDermott2" .'.-.........
 "What I said just now-that I got Heveran's houldin', and took my oath to marry Julia O'Byrne. told it to her father, half an hour ago."
 You mean to say you are goin' be- tween me and the colleen I love-the colleen I have loved since she was up to my knee! You mean to say you are goin' between me and these flow dirty acres of Heveran's that I axed first, and 1 bespoke; between your only brother and all the hopes of peace he has in this world-you, that has full and plenty, Martin MacD Dermott!"
 ''Tm goin' to marry Julia,' Martin replied, with sullen determination.
 "Julia, what do you say2" Owen asked, turning to the girl, who stood silently weeping. t... ,.ss. ;. s.t.....r
 Fl must answer for her." C'Byrne said. "I promised her to Martin, and I'm not goin' back on my word, I can tell you. What have you to show2 How do you mean to keep her2' -4t @s.@s "What do you say, Julia?"
 '' wish to stick to you, Ownie, and never marry any one else-never, never, as hope for luck ?"
 "God bless you for them words, darlin'! Only be true and faithful, and I'll soon have cabin for you some | where."
 "Julia ]" said her father, raising his hands to heaven, eff you ever marry that boy, ever spake to him, ever think of him, I'll curse you on my bare knees You don't know what fathers curse is l! Don't bring 1t on my child, if you love her. Never come across her again, Ownie MacDermott p
 "You hear that, Julia. What am to do?" Owen asks. u ,. .... s-
 "Go away, and never come near me again, or he'll curse me, Ownie. Go away!'
 Owen MacDermott stood perfectly still for few minutes, and then, raising his eyes to heaven, and with the impetu- osity of young Irishman, called down & bitter curse on his only brother. " May you never be happier than I am now, sleeping or waking May everything you put your hand to turn to dust and ashes! May your children live to hate and dishonor you, Martin MacDermott! p And with one long look at the trembling Julia, Owen rapidly passed out into the cold darkness of the March evening, and was seen no more in Castle bar. Ten pounds of the money left him by his father he took, the remainder lay in the bank. But which side he went, or what became of him, no one knew.
 A year passed away, and then Michael O'Byrne died; and Julia, from sheer ina bility to resist any longer, became the wife of Martin MacDermott, though she feared the very sound of his voice. She had children, but one after another they sickened and died, and things in general began to go wrong with Martin; his shabby churlishness making him gen erally disliked. When they were ten years married, Julia died in giving birth to twins, & fine healthy boy and girl. Both lived, and all the affection their father had for anything he centered on the boy he called Darby after his own father. The little girl, Julia, he cared nothing about, allowing her to grow up just as best she could. The farm Martin took so treacherously from his brother, he gave up long before, as nothing ever sown there prospered, and indeed, acre by acre, the Upland Farm had been going for years. Darby MacDermott grew up to. be fine, handsome man, first and foremost in every mischief the village could afford; and at twenty years of age, got transported for seven years for treason-felony, as he had taken an active part in the rebellion of 1948. 1 her time in gossiping in the neighbors' houses, instead of taking care of her father, weak, helpless old man, who roof over his head. All his wretched
 
 had not in them the ring of a straight trouble and disgrace of his son Darby completely broke him down, and he took to his bed, only wishing and wanting to die. "It's the curse, it's Owens curse, |" he would moan for hours, as he lay alone without soul to hand him even a drink of water. ''Shure might have known 1t would come.'' .
 At length the climax of Martin Mac Dermott's sufferings was reached, the measure of his punishment filled up. For three years he had not paid six pence of rent, and he was dispossessed, turned out of the house in which he had been born, and his father and grand father before him, to die by the way left homeless and friendless by the road side, on dreary November morning.
 Remembering his unkindness to his only brother, his harshness to his poor, timid, patient wife, his blind indulgen of his son in the face of patent facts, his total neglect of his only daughter, and his mean, scheming character, there were few to pity Martin MacDermott in his trouble; and so he was taken to the work-house, his house knocked down, and not trace left of what had been once happy homestead.
 And Owen, when he left the tent that ever memorable St. Patrick's night, it was with the resolve of going away for ever-anywhere, so that he was far from the place which had so suddenly become hateful to him. He walked all night, and at the break of day found himself just outside the town of Ballinasloe. | There he had some breakfast and at the inn he entered into conversation with some men who were going to England with cattle, and were in want of Q drover