The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1879-01-23
MICK REuLIGAN'S SON.
BY HATTIE NJ. WOOD.

'Jist a little sup av warrum tay, jewel,
dear, for talkin' consumes wan wild the
iruth, an thin III be afther tellin' ycz
the siItory av Mick Reilligan's son.
The ''warrum tay" was Immediately
served, and Katie Cleary, an ancient ven
lor Of pins and needles, buttons and
hread settling herself in comfortable
seat at our pleasant lireside, where she is
always sure OF a hearty welcome, forth
with began:
"Mick Reilligan himself was shy,
cruel, ugly baste, but the tongue av him.
shure, had touched the blarney stone, so
5aItiIy and purify cud he spake, an wild
rhat he put his comedher upon poor
widdy's only daughter, bonny Mary Ma
zone, wid hair loike the yellow coTun
iill huuwin' to her waist in shinin' curls,
hecks as red as a wild red rose, an the
Dice nv her clearer than that av n lark in
hpling time.
We'll, wicked Mick Reilligan put his
,omrdhcr upon her, an avil comcdher it
vas, too, ali out; but the gal married
i'm. any way: an in less than two years
he was unGhcr hoor,i, LAWN behind her
. the tindh"r melcics av Mick, a wax
puny mite OF gossoon, wild a crucked
back an twisted limbs, an pale, peaked
face, like a blighted white rose.
"GOd, He knows best, av cOorse; only
it seemed pity that the chidcr should
live; but live it did, an grew shlowiy
into wake, peakin lad that the father
seemed to have shpite against always,
an bate often, for no raisOn in life, only
that the poor crathur luked at him wild
the Swate, mouTnful blue eyes av Mary
Malone
The gossoon had his dead mothers
TWO purity, violet-blue eyes, se2 /, an her
glitterin' shinin' curls, like threads av
foine shpun goold, but there was big
hump bechune his shoulders, halt in his
gait as he walked; he was a bit a-shaugli-
ran in his wits. too, an the neighbOrin'
children were ateard to cOmrade wild him,
because he was said to have the power av
workin' avil charums learned from some
wicked fairy or witch.
80 the poor, mlsIortunate cratnure sted
dale be himself, an might have been
happy enough in it, too, only that the
father kept his heavy hand aft him, or
the shmall ind av his shillely from batin'
| him so SCORE. But that the cruel baste
| wud never do, an simple Patseys only
| comfort was in stain away to the green
| woods and fields, where he wud warble
loike a thrush, chirup loike cricket, an
| chatter loike magpie, SO that none cud
tell the differ; an he wuld call arounst
him at will the timid wild things av bush
! an brake. av mist an bower, for all these,
| dye mind, loved him, an were not
ateard.
"Afther awhile, howiver, when the lad
| had got along bit in his teens. it hap
| pened, wan black Novimber night, wild
| the rain pousin' as if it came out of me-
| thers. an such wind abroad you'd think
| it meant to annihilate the worruld, that a
| big ship wint TO PAGES in the breakers atl
| County Wexford coast, an it was said
| how for the sake av such threasures as
| wuld float in from her wreck, Mick Reil-
| ligan had kindled the false, fatal fire phat
| guided the vessel to her doom.
ovid this, Mick, takin' poor Patsey
along, fled out av the ccunthry, in great
| fear lest his neck shuld chance to be
made acquainted wild the hangmaR's hal
ter. which. bad luck to him, he knew we'll
enough that he deserved. He came i'm
maiuntly over to Ameriky, an as he was
| a yery wicked man in his own land. he
| was not much loike to be a good wan
here; so, be these tokens, afther short
tonne he got thick wid band av house
breakers an thaves, an mony's the avil
thing he done in the clouds av night, wid
no eye on him but the great Gods, whom
he forgot.
"Perhaps body moight wondher why
the loikes ay Mickey Reilligan didn't sci
his simple son adrift to get the worruld'
bread for himself, but dye moind, Ii,
thought to work the lad into his own sin
full ways afther awhile, an, besides, poor
crucked Patsey brought in mony an odt
) pinny wild payin at shtreet corners upol
his little violin, an wid singin' the beau
tiful ballads av ould Ireland, in voic
] swater nor q lark's, as his mothers ha,
been before him, an mournful enoug
itself to wiring tears from shtone
so the tonne wint on tilst poor Patse
was eighteen years ould, an havin' tn
honest Mthone dhrop in him, not a
+ Mick's cruel batins, nor the lash av HI
vile, bitther tongue, Guild dhriye the la
into avil doin' or wrong