Morning journal and courier., 1880-04-06
Keeping The Wolf From The Door.
CHAPTER I.
HUNGRY TO MADNESS

CHAPTER I. HUNGRY TO MADNESS. 'tI GAN stand this no longer I'll have that mans blood before another sunrise !" The speaker was a large, well-buile man of sixty, with furrowed face and long gray hair and beard, covering head and face. stFather!" came a sweet voice, and delicate hand was laid upon the strong mans arm, and q sweet face was upturned toward the sterner visage in wistful manner. pair of lovely blue eyes encountered the | blood-shot orbs from which flashed glances of
 fury ,,, | came the command from as red and pretty a pair of lips ss were ever owned by beautiful daughter of Ireland. ssMy child, do not restrain mel" ''Yes, father. I tell ye shall hold ye from going out this day!" ''Child, do you know yer mothers children are starvin', and can stand it no longsr?" 'tFAther, yell not bother the children, nor appease their hunger, by shedding blood Yer
 not yerssP ct all, or ys'd never be thinking of 1 such a thing, and ye Christian man The | Lord will succor us yet, father dear !'' l The strong, stern old man allowed himself to 1 be drawn back from tho cabin door; and sit- | ting down upon stool, he covered his gray
 bearded face with his brawny handa, and wept | like child. Tears trickled down the face of tho fair girl who had exsrted such an influence over the strong man. She was 8 tender looking creature, not more than eighteen, and fair flower to be blooming in such homs of Gaunt want and squalor. :. On one side of ths hearth, on which smold- l cred peat fire, was an old woman, fully eighty years of age, and crouch1ng around upon the floor were five children, ranging from | thirteen to three years Christopher O'Nara had been well to- do lease holder on a small farm in the west of Ireland.
 He had been on intimate terms with one
 Richard McMann, agent for the estate of which ] the farm was part. O'Mara was a man who had received a fair amount of schooling, and it had been his ambition to have all his children well edu- cated.
 One day the two friends, O'Mara and Mo- Mann, had bitter quarrel and from that hour 1 thetwo former friends had become most dead ly enemies. Neither ever mentioned the cause of the quarrel, though neither sought to conceal their mutual hatred. The agent was cruel, crafty man, born In Eneland of Irish parents. From the moment O'Mara had quErreled with McMann, things began to go bad with the former. It took years to reduce him to a helpless condition, but at length the hour of the agents triumph arrived. The process-server laid the eviction papers under O'Maras door, and the latter was com peilsd to leave the comfortable house where he had lived ever since his marriage day, and in which all his children had been born. It was a terrible day when Cris O'Mara gather ed his few remaining chattels on a donkey cart, and led his children from their home.
 Richard McAfann was present to witness the eviction, seated upon fence beside the lane leading from the house. As O'Mara arrived opposite to where Mc- Mann sat, he went to him and said: ''Is there niver bit of honcr or justice uu- der your skin, McMann P | MeMann placed his hand upon the butt of l the pistol he was licensed to carry, and said Don't ye come near me, O'Mara." A great spasm wrenched O'Mara's throat as he exclaimed: 'It's not the sight O that pistol McNann, that keeps ne from chokin' ye to deatb! And mind ye, man, some day it'll come that there | will be blood atWesn you and II" "Go OF now, and don't be botherin' yer sowl wid threatG, man Sure I've been merci- | full to ye this year back, and had been just to
 me employers ye'd have gone out year ago | last spring" O'Mara moved to 2 hamlet nsar tie town of c Cahersibeen. The latter place, next to Dingle, is the most westerly town in Ireland. The country round, as whole, Is noted for it's bleakness, although there are patches of fairly productive land here and there. | The proud Cris OMara, after moving his family to the hamlet (the latter merely poor | collection of mean huts, sought to provide for | them by days work. Times grew worse and worso with him, and
 at length he, like many of his poor neighbors, | had been reduced to condition of absolute | starvation.
 On the day when we introduce the O'Mara | family to our readers not meal had bsen consumed beneath their roof for ix-and-thirty hours.
 It had set in bleak day of wind and storm, | and that poor but honest family had sat
 through the hours miserable and despairing. | The mother of the poor children had been | dead year, and their care had devolved upon | their eldest sister, the truly handsome Maggie | O'Mara.
 At the moment when Oris O'Mara made the
 rush for the cabin door, it was with the intsn- ton of seeking Richard McNann. Maggie had heard her father muttering to I himself strangely for some time, and with tho | mutterings she had heard mingled the name | of her fathers bittsrsst foe. If was the inquiry on the part of ono of the l younger children, when they were going to
 have supper, that had driven the father to g ! sudden frenzy.
 Father" at length said Maggie, ''I'l go to ! Cahersibeen."
 ''What for, me child?' l ''IH get bit O meal from some one who
 has it to spars!"
 ''What child would you beg it ?" Maggie could not conceal the blush that
 mantled her fair cheek as she truthfully an ] swered.
 ''Yes, daddy, dear" ''My child, ye have good and true heart but I'd rather lay ye in yer grave than that ye
 should ever come to beg for sup to ate."