New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1880-08-25
NEW ULM REVIEW, "WEDNESDAY, AUGUST Is, 1880
"A Irish Fishing Village.

A Irish Fishing Village.
DID not greatly care how much I
muddied my skirts among these poor
villagers, because I learned to laugh
and weep with them. Uncared for and
forgotten by the world, they seem to
have but one earthly hope, America,
and one dread, hunger. The village
possesses no post-ofice; there is no
magistrate within many miles; and the
priest, two leagues distant, serves nu-
merous villages as forlorn as this, and
people are born and die without any
official note. Many suppose that the
parish priest is the most powerful man
in the kingdom; and it was a subject of
supreme surprise and commiseration
when informed them that the Queen
was a widow On Sundays the inhab-
itants of the village appear, washed and
shaven into a CHASTITY pallor, in tho
single street that leads up from the sea,
and remain all day long gossiping and
fighting, through sunshine and rain, as
if these achievements formed q part of
their religious duties. Now and then
the spoils of a wreck are washed to
| their shores, and when the coast guards
| dispute with them what they consider
the bounty OF the sea, fierce encounters
take place, in one of which, not long
before my arrival, a poor villager had
been killed. ~
There was scarcely well matched
cabin in the village; the floors of most
OF them were as muddy as the roads, and
dotted with little pools of water, which
seemed a refreshing feature to the ducks
that came in guest of food. The most
sheltered corner of the cabin il devoted
to the pig, and the chickens seize upon
roost. Nets hang from the raft
ers, and the equipments of the
boats are disposed in whatever dry
hooks the habitation boasts of. The
warmest nook on the hearth is usurped
by the cat, cherished with great care as
the protector against their terrible enc
mics the rats; and beside it an old
woman, who did not seem to have
changed her clothes since her youth,
coddled the latest born of the house.
hold. The village was pervaded with
so strong an Odor of fish and tar that
less agreeable cmanations were un-
noticed. The dung cheap was zealously
guarded by the door, have seen it,
indeed, in the very living-room of tho
Occupants-as the riches that were to
prosper their next years potato crop;
and every morning the pig was sent out
to walk, with solicilude for his health
not bestowed upon the other members
of the family. These people spent
three fourths of their time in idling and
gossiping. l saw poor, haggard old
women at the doors of their cabins, or
by the village well, who had
to crouch like apes to make their
rags cover them, so mad for gossip that
they forgot their hunger and the rain
that soaked them; and day after day old
men gathered on the sheltered side of a
wall, and talked with as much interest
and gravity as if they had never seen
each other before, and every recital was
an unheard-of marvel. Troops of half
clothed and half-starved children
1prawled in the mud, fought among
themselves, or with loud ycls crowded
about some poor ass, intlicting all the
tormcnts that their untutorcd imagina-
tons could suggest, while their mothers,
can in hand, whispered, with amaze
ment written on their faces, of all they
had heard or seen or dreamed of since
yesterday in a village dependent entirely
upon itself for its topics of interest.
Hither, learned, the priest came
once year to hear the confessions of
the inhabitants. They repair to one of
the cabins, where, while the pig, chick
ems, ducks, and geese are kept in abey-
ance by the Jealous host and hostess, the
rite is celebrated. Among these people,
whose only extravaganza seems to be
on the score of their religion, he is en-
tertained and requited in q manner
quite out of proportion to the means of
his entertainers; and when departing,
after the manner of the fond mother in
the story:book, who whipped her chill
dren and put them to bed, he gives
them all sound rating upon their idle
ness and remissness in their religious
observances, and receives in return,
"Long life to your reverence" and
"Godspeed," from his humble flock.--
'. L. Cloud, en- Hurper's Magazine.
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