The Newberry herald. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, 1875-09-22
Vol. XI.
"And the priest?" said my ia

AHO Suo tIASe0' ooio 10y ="
ther.
"My father quarreled with him
last week about the Easter dues;
and Father Tom said he'd not give
him the rites; and that's lucky
DOW! Come along now, quick, for
we've no time to lose; it must all
be finished before the day breaks"
call right" was the reply.
Ny father did not lose much
time at his toilet, for be just wrap
ped his big coat around him, and
slipping on the brogues, be left
the house. I sat upin the basket,
and listened till they were gone
some minutes and then, in a cos
tune as light as my parents set
out after them to watch the course
of the adventure. [ thought to
take a short cut, and be there be.
fore them, but bad luck 1 fell in
TO a bog hole, and only escaped
drowning bya chance. AS it was,
hen reached the house, the per-
formance had already begun.
I think I see the whole scene
this instant before my eyes, as l
sat on a little window with one
pane, and that a broken one, and
surveyed the proceeding. 1t was
q large room, at one end Of which
was a bed, and beside it was ta,
bic with physic bottles, and spoons,
and teacups; a little further off
was another table, at which sat
Billy Seaman, with all manner Of
writing materials before him. The
country people sat two and some
times three deep round the walls,
ali intently eager and anxious
for the coming event; Peter
himself went from place to
place, trying to smother his
grief, and occasionally helping
the company to whisky; which
was supplied with more than &C.
customed liberality.
All my consciousness of the de-
ceit and trickery could not deprive
the scene Of a certain solemnity.
The misty distance of the half
lighted room; the highly wrought
expression Of the country peoples
faces, never more intensly excited
than at some moment Of this
kidd; the low, deep-drawn breath
ings, unbroken save by a sigh OF
o sob; the tribute of affectionate
sorrow to some lost friend, whose
memory was thus forcibly brought
back-these were all so real, that,
as I looked, a thrilling sense of
awe stole over me, and I actually
shook with fear.
A low, faint cough from the dark
corner where the bed stood SEEM
ed to cause even a deeper stiffness;
and then, in a silence where the
bnzzing Of fly would have been
heard, my father said:
"Where's Billy Scanlan ? I
want to make my will"
"He's here, father" said Peter,
taking Billy by tbs hand, and lead
ing him to the bedside.
"Write what I bid ye, Billy, and
be quick; for I haven't a long
time 'afore me here. I die a good
Catholic, though Father O'Raffer-
ty won't give me the rites %
A general chorus of muttered,
"Oh! mushs, musha!" was now
heard through the room; but,
whether in grief over the sad fate
Of the dying man, or the unfinch.
ing severity of the priest is hard TO
say.
II die in peace with all my
neighbors and all mankind"
Another chorus Of the company
seemed to approve these char.
liable expressions.
II bequeath unto my son Peter
and there never was a better
son or a decenter boy!-l bequeath
| unto my son Peter the whole of
nv two farms of fKillimundoonery
and Knocksheboora, with the fall
low meadows behind Lynch's
house; the forge and right Of turf
oa the Dooran bog. I give him
and much good may it do him
J.ontv Csssarn's acre. and the