The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1875-04-09
THE MACDERMoTTs OF BALLY
BANE.
AN IRISH STORY OF REAL LIFE.

AN IRISH STORY OF REAL LIFE.
The best & holding" of land on the
BalIybane property was that of old
Darby MacDermott. His crops were
always first sowed and first home his
haggard the neatest and best matched;
his fences in the best condition, and his
house the suggest in the village.
Darby was never behindhand with his
rent. The LIST of May and the LIST of
November found him, wet or dry, good
season or bad season, at the Office with
his old worsted stocking, in the very
corner of which his half years rent lay
safely counted. He was a decent old
man, who always minded his business,
and attended to his duties, and had few
troubles IN the course OF his three score
and ten years. He had two sons Mar
tin, the eldest, dark, handsome man,
with square, heavy face, and pair of
dark, restless, glittering eyes-a man
whom every one respected, but very
few liked /; and Owen, a fair, curly
haired, delicate boy, who had been his
mothers darling. Old Darby was fond
of both his sons, but the sturdy,
healthy Martin was decidedly his favor
tie; and when he died it was found
that the greater part of his saving went
to hir first-bOrn.
Owen was not either of jealous or
envlOus disposition; still, ne some
times thought it rather hard that his
brother should have all the luck. Mar
tin was strong, and healthy, and hand
some, had been his fathers favorite,
and was master of the farm after his
death. All the stock and crops, and
everything, were the property of Mar
tin; and Owen was the possessor of
but fifty pounds. Forty years ago two
hundred pounds in ready money was
considered a fortune, and even fifty
pounds was not by any means to be
despised and when old Darby Mac
Dermott left his boys so we'll off, there
were few men in Ballybane who did not
envy them-Martin especially, who was
looked up to by his neighbOrs as little
short of gentleman, certainly as a man
who might keep his jaunting- car if he
chose. But the possession of money
made no change in the new tenant of
the Upland farm, as the MaeDermotts'
holding was called. He just worked as
hard as ever, getting up at six O'Clock
IN the morning and going to bed late.
Owen lived with him, and worked too,
Just as usual, only that during his faith
er's time he might spend his evenings
reading old newspapers, or writing let
tiers to his acquaintance who had gone
to America. But Martin Thought such
occupations mere waste of time, and
when the days work was ended and the
supper over, he ordered the fire and the
lights to be put out.
The next farm to that of Martin Mac
DermOtt's on one side was held by
Michael O'Byrne, farmer who had
been well to do once, but misfortunes
of late years had come thickly on him.
and he had hard work to keep the farm
together. On the other side, a small
holding of about fifteen acres was held
by a good-fOr-nOthing old fellow named
IatrIck Heveran, who was little better
than nuisance to the entire neighbOr-
hood. However, one morning he was
found dead in his bed and Owen Mac,
DermOtt, without taking counsel of any
one, went to the agent and asked if he
might have the vacant farm, as he
WISHED to settle down on his own &C.
count. The agent promised, and full
OF hope and Joy Owen went about his
work. The next day was the 18th OF
March, st, Patrick's day, and a general
holiday and early in the morning
Owen dressed himself in his Sunday
suit and went out. A little way doWT
the road he met a young girl, also
dressed IN her best-a crimson stuff
dress, gay shawl, and a cross of rib
bons of all the cOlOrs in the rainbow OF
her shoulder. Her fair hair was twisted
caTelessly round her head, and her soft
blue eyes had a startled look in them
ION, Ownie, avOurneen, l was afearC
YOU weren't comm; and sure, sorra {
bit of shamrock you have in your car
this blessed mOrnin'. Why is that
dear?"
g l was in a hurry to see you, my dar
lin" he answered, looking tenderly
into the sweet, shy face. "Julia,
have some good news for you, THU
mOrnin'; let US walk down this lane, auC
I'll tell you, and look for my shamrock
at the same time.
Together they turned down a lane, Of
rather foOt-patn, bordered on one side
10y a thick blackthOrn h dge, and 6
broad meadow on the other.
Julia, said Owen, you know Tn
fen of You, since you were a wee, shy.
delicate little creature. [ never haG
any sweetheart but yourself, and now
want you to name the day; l am goin
to take you all to myself. You know
Pat Heveran's houldm'? 1 went TO the
Office yesterday and axed for it, and the
agent as good as promised me it. Now
Judy y
Il am so glad, Ownie," was all tn,
girl ans wered, very softly, but there
were tears of genuine delight in hel
eyes as she looked up at him. Well il
was that neither OF them saw the darE
face which watched them from the
other side of the hedge, or heard the
mut.ered threats that were hurled after
them, or they might not have enjoyed
the remainder of that day "a they did.
st. Patrick's day in ireland, forty
years aso, used to be very different
rom what il is now and when Julja
Q Byrue aud Owen MacDermott entered
me Market town of Gort, after long
ramble through the fields in search of 6