San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1878-06-01

tion OF story'
can Irish story, please"
"a duel, Major" sad Jack.
"No, no! Lady Leigh's ghost
pleaded Mary.
"Tut, tut! You know my stock TOO
well. Let me see! Did l ever tell you
of the man who lived in his coflinP'
"No! Oh, go on!" their eyes dilating
with the delight of new horror.
cit was in $780," began the Major,
toasting his feet comfortably, "that l
was sent ON visit to my uncle, a farmer
in County Cork. was aioutyour age,
Jack-a hearty eater, good shot, ana
a great deal fonder of fun than OF books
"My uncle's house was great, low,
rambling building, with plenty OF win,
lows, and big roaring fires; untidy and
comfortable; full and running over with
children, dogs, and servants. L was
stunned at first with the scale on which
the eating and fun and foolic went on
"My uncle was only dairy farmer.
In this country he would have felt it
right to save every penny for his eleven
children. But in Ireland he felt it his
duty to keep his table filled with poor
friends, the year round.
"'They're unfortunate my aunt re-
piled, when questioned why they were
there. isn't that reason enoughP'
"In the kitchen it was just the same
way. Besides the cooks, farm-hands,
laundry, and loom-women for ladies
wove their own linen them, there was a
legion of old, blind, and deaf retainers
cluttering up the passages.
"'They're not beggars; they're all OF
use,' said my aunt, placidly. 'They
earn their bite and sup
"Old Molly, nowP She can not hear
it thunder suggested.
".Oh, she sits in the sun and looks
after the hens
"'And lame Davy?'
"He-he goes for BARN [yeast] twice
week, triumphantly.
"sAnd the idiots, Patsy and BarneyP'
"'Why, child, they're innocents!
God have them in his keeping!' =
"My uncle's way of life was that OF
his neighbors. suppose it was extrav-
agant and foolish; and yet, when l re-
member how the poor and helpless
were received and fed, as if sent by
God, wonder sometimes if there were
not better wisdom than economy in it.
"There was one young lad in the
house with whom l soon formed
friendship. His name was Dick Clancy.
He was hard student, and was read
ing his humanities' in the village
school, preparatory to entering Trinity
College at Dublin.
"sls Clancy kinsman Of yoursP' 1
asked my aunt.
"sNo. He is what is called poor
scholar When poor lad wishes to
receive an education, he is taught with
out charge at any school, and goes from
house to house, staying at each as long
as he chooses. A poor scholar is al
ways welcome. We think Gods bless
ing goes with him for the love of learn
ing
ave were at supper, remember,
when she said this. 1t was a wild,
stormy night. The ground was cover
ed with snow, and the wind blew fierce
" from the sea. In lull of the storm,
we heard knocking at the gate.
"'Run!' cried my uncle; who can be
abroad on such night as thisP'
"When the men unbarred the door,
one of them stepped hastily back.
"'It's Kit in his coffin, sir!'
THE snow blew with frightful gust
into the open hall, as four men entered,
carrying a bier, which they set down,
and then hastily retreated. On the bier
rested what seemed to be an open coffin.
&C. The cloth was thrown off, and from
within the coffin mans head rose up.
"sGod be with all here!' said hearty
voice.
"'God be with you, XIII replied a
dozen voices.
"sWho could have turned you out on
such a night, lad?' said my uncle.
"sOh, would come. l was at Larry
O'Neill's, and they were 10th to see me
90. But said I'm due at the Squire's
and I'll not disappoint him. And l had
the salve for the misthress's burn to
bring, and the wash for your throat,
Molly. l knew yees couldn't do with
I on, mo onudar day,