The anti-monopolist. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1874-1878, 1875-05-06

The Anti-Ml'
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. Derby McDermott grew
IN 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 trea-
son-felony, as he had taken IN active
part in the rebellion of 1848. Julia was
an idle, careless girl, who spent her time
in gossiping in the neighbours house, in
stead Of taking care of her father. weak,
HELPLESS old man. who toiled early and
late trying to keep roof over his head. !
All his wretched schemes had turned out
badly. They had not in them the ring
of a straightforward and honest man.
Above all, the trouble and disgrace of his
son Darby completely broke him down,
and h. took to his bed, only wishing and
wanting to die. s'It's the curse, it's
Ownie's curse,'' he would mourn for
hours, as he lay alone without q soul to
hand him even drink Of water. .'Sure,
l might have known it would have
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 q sixpence of
rent, and he was dispossessed, turned cut
OF the house in which he was born, and
his father and grandfather before him, to
die by the way-left homeless and friend
less BY the roadside, on dreary Novem.
Der morning.
Remembering his unkindness to an only
brother. his harshness to the poor, timid,
patient wife, his blind indulgence 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 workhouse,
his house knocked down, and not trace
left of what had been once happy home
stead.
And Owen, when he left the tent that
ever-memorable St. Patrick's night. it
was with the resolve Of going away for.
ever-aEywhere, so that he was far away
from the place which had suddenly be-
come hateful to him. He walked all night,
and at the break of day found himself
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 dro-
yer. Owen offered his services, and, as
he appeared quiet, respectable young
man, they were accepted at once. They
reached Dublin in three days, and then
started for Liverpool, where Owen said
good. bye to the cattle jobbers, and took
. passage to America in the Golden
Cross. On board. he made himself SO
useful and agreeable to the captain that
he gave him Recommendation to mer'
chant in New York, who took him into
his Office. For five years Oven worked
patiently and steadily, and then his mas
ter promoted him to q clerk; and SO on
from step to step, his patient, honest in
dustry raised him till he became partner
,, in one OF the first firms in the great city
Then, when he paused to consider that h,
was rich and Independent, and gentle
man, came home-longings. The Uplans
; farm, the lane where he last walked will
Julia, the quiet little market town, al
ased to come before him rs he sat in hi
grand, lonely house; and At last he re
solved to pay his native land visit.
He arrived at Gort late On the after
noon of the 10Th of March, and deter
mined to remain quiet till the next day
when he felt pretty sure of meeting hi
I. brother Martin. It WAS just thirty year
u since Owen left his native place, an
there were fewer changes in the dull lii
tie country town than he anticipated
d far fewer changes than there were in him
:, SELF But when St. Patrick s day dawne
clear and frosty, he could not rest, an
:! started early in the well-remcmbered d
n rection Of the Upland farm. How hi
heart beat rs he drew near the old cabin
s weather-stained and desolate, which ha
i been the home Of Julia; and now it stoo
J, still As he reached the level field of cal
U which Was just coming over ground whel
t his fathers house stood! Faint and sicl
he entered the first cabin he came t,
e and asked drink of water. A wretche
old woman, seeing how white he looket
. asked him to take a stool, which he di,
and after few minutes silence, he begs
e to ask some questions about the place.
+" young girl, with face that would ha,
II been pretty but for its sulky expression
is and . quantity of fair hair negligent
y hanging over her shoulders, looked =
n from heap Of fax she was carding, ar
examined the stranger attentively, IS
n asked the old woman what had becou
T. Of the MacDermotts.
8! "Come here, Judy, and tell his hon'
s. what become Of Martin MacDermott aI
ID hls blessed family. This is his dAughts
., SIR"
Id "And Martin, what has become Of hir
IS Is he deadi Owen asked, breathlessly.
Is mo, it weuld be good job if he Was
he the girl said, sullenly; ''he's m the POI
k. house!'
ne Owen buried his facs in his hands n
wept aloud. Surely his curse had Oil
ell hot and heavy; far, far hotter and nea
n Ter than he meant it should. "Gri! d
be you ever hear Of your I'M lie Owen! L.
L - ~ g. &nth ND