The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1875-10-08
A N ETECTION.

"Mary, Mary! do you hear what the
neighbOrs says-that we're all going to be
evicted ?'' cried Denis Connor, entering his
cabin one evening towards the end of Octo-
ber and sitting down dejectedIy; while
Mary, his wife, looked up from.her work in
blank dismay.
''What do you mean, Denis ?'' she asked.
''Sure, we don't owe a penny of rent, and
if the Lord spares our health well remain
so.'
otis too true, I'm afraid. Molly, it'll
break my beart to leave the old place
and what'n you and Oona do?'' and the
old man rocked himself to and fro, and
moaned bitterly.
whist, Denis, DEAR" Mary said, gently
placing her hand on her husbands shoul-
der there's some mistake, ye may be GER
tain. His Honor could not mean to turn
US out, for sure there's no decenter poor
people on all the property than the neigh
bors. II isn't like as if we were living en-
tirely on the land, and couldn't pay the
rent. His Honor couldn't mean to evict
as, Denis ~
But his Honor did mean to evict them,
as they learned formally few days after;
the entire village of Cloonabeg was to be
swept away.
1t was wild, bleak spot on the west
coast of Ireland, not many miles from: the
ancient ''Citic of the Tribes" The village
consisted of long, struggling row of cab
ms on the edge of common, and within
stOne's-throw of the sea. The inhabit-
ants of Cloonabeg were fishermen-poor,
simple, honest, hard working people-who
had been born in the cabins they dweit IN,
aud their fathers and grandfathers before
them, and knew little of the world beyond.
They all had the right Of the common-on
the other side Of which stood the village of
CloonamOre, much more important place,
which boasted the possession of d police
barrack, chapel, and national school.
There was little intimacy between the in
habitants of the two villages. The Cloona-
more people were farmers, comfortable as
farmers go in the west of ireland, where
they have to toll, and toll continually to
make the wretched land produce anything.
They were very jealous of their neighbors
down by the seaside, who paid far less
rent, and on the whole seemed not only to
work less but to be more comfortable.
The fishermen were quiet, proud,
served people, who lived entirely to them
selves, helping each other in difficulty, con-
soling each other in trouble, and taking
little interest in anything save the coming
and going of the shoals Of fish.
They spent their evenings, when not out
on the bay, with their wives ; and it was
pleasant to see them sitting outside their
cabin doors, smoking their pipes, or mend
ing their nets and sails-the men in their
rough home-knit blue guernseys, the wo-
men in their scarlet jackets. They were
very poor, but their wants were few, and
they were contented and happy in their
simple way.
Denis Conner was considered the most
comfortable man in Cloonabeg. He had
son in America, who often sent him money
and daughter married to tishmonger in
Galway, who was considered almost a mer
chant. One other child he had, Oona,
pretty golden haired girl, the pet of the
whole village.
a very old woman, named Merrick; poor
Judy she was called, for she had had many
troubles in her lifetime. Her husband and
only son were drowned twenty years be-
fore, trying to save the crew of brig
which struck on "Margue:ite's Rock"
Young Merrick left wife who died few
months after, and sickly little boy. Poor
r,<.1t f.. l.,t,,c
him up and keep a roof overhead by con-
slant hard work. She assisted the neigh
bors in their housewoIk, who paid her i'll
kind and made and mended nets for any
of the men who could afford to pay her a
triiie just sufficient to pay the rent. For
fifteen years Judy toiled late and early,
and then her grandson, Willie, was old
enough to take his fathers boat aud nets
and earn his living, and support his grand