Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1881-12-16

From Cork Letter by D. R. Locke NasbyT) in
Toledo Blade.
/ left Cork day before yesterday for
the village of Bantly, in county Cork
some forty miles distant, owned and
controlled by Ny Lord Bantry, who is
or at least ought to be, one of the rich
est men in Ireland.
THE REGULATION CABIN.
Leaving the main street, which is
like all the streets of Irish villages
made up of small stores, or shops, IS
they are there called, you walk up 8
rather steep hill, through a crooked
street, and you fnd yourself in the
midst of the regulation Irish cabins
miserable structures of stone piled one
upon the other. not even daubed with
plaster, with no windows as rule
though the more pretentious ones have
a single pane or glass in the wall some
where.
THE ToBE WIDOW FLANAGAN.
We went up the miserable stairs in
one of them, and gained the still more
miserable den above. 1t was more lik,
a coffin than room, and the idea of 8
coffin was brought forcibly to the mine
as you glanced at the wretched occu
pants. On miserable bed of drieC
leaves covered with potato-sacks, OF
the one side was the emaciated form O
a man dying of starvation and con
sumption. He had about forty eight
hours of life in him. Upon my word
| felt happy to see he was SO neal
death. For, having an excellent repu.
tation, having always been good
man, he was certain to go, after death
where there would not be the slightest
possible chance for meeting My Lord
Bantry. In the other corner WAS flat
stone upon which consumptive fire
of peat was burning, the smoke filling
were five children, under the watchful
eye of a very comedy woman. The
children we're barefooted and stocking.
less, and clad in the most deplorable
rags, while the mother, also barefooted
was clothed i'll the regular cotton slip
without particle of underclothing Of
any kind or description. And into
that garnet, poor as it was, came other
women, not clothed sufficiently to be
decent, to boil their potatoes at the
wretched fire. They have practice
of exchanging fires in this way, that
none shall be wasted.
"What do you pay for this apart
ment?"
"Tenpence week. sorp'
care YOU in arrears for rent?"
"Yis, sor. He pointing to her hus-
band has been sick, sor, for months,
sor, and cud not work"
what will you do if he dies?"
eve shall be put out, sor.
This with no burst of anguish, with
no special tone of anger, or manifesto
ton of emotion. To be "put out" is
the common lot of the Irish laborer
and the Irish wife, and they expect it.
And within mile of that wretched
spot, of that dying man and starving
children, my Lord Bantry has the most
beautiful castle, with luxurious furni-
ture, and filled with pampered funkles,
his stables crowded with the most won.
derful horses. and his table grooming
under the weight of the luxuries Of
every cline
Surely not for tenpence week will
he tear this woman from the side oil
her dead husband, and throw her with
her helpless children out into the cold
and wet street?
Yes, but he will though.
For this family is but one of MANY
thousands on the land which a bad
king stole from the people who owned
it. Were this but the only case, he
might relent; but, should he do it in
this case, he would have to do it for
the others, and tenpence week from
thousands aggregates very large sum
and my Lord Bantry's expenses are
very high, for it costs money to run a
castle.
If ever leaned toward the doctrines
taught by the Universalists, a contem-
pl2tion of the system of Bantryism has
entirely and completely convinced me
that they are erroneous. If there is not
a lake of fire and birthstone, a very
wide, and very deep, and very hot one
there ought to be, and when the British
House of Lords meet there, there will
always be quorum. And my Lord
will lift up his eyes to the Widow Elan,
agan, and beg for drop of water tc
cool his parched tongue. But he won't
get it. He doesn't deserve it.
woEFUL LACK OF KNOWLEDGE.
1t is impossible to make an American
comprehend the width, depth, and
breadth of Irish misery until he has
seen it with his own eyes. No Other
mans eyes are good for anything ir
this matter, for the reason that nothing
parallel exists on the American side o.
the water. And, besides this, the writers
for the stage and of general literature
have most wofully misrepresented the
Irishman and and very much tc
his and her disadvantage.
The Irishman of the stage and move
is always rollicking. happy-go -lucky
sort of reckless fellow, with short
tailed coat, red vest and corduroy trOus
ers, wooden stockings and stout bro
gans, with bottle of whisky peeping
out of his pocket, a biackthorn shille-
lah in his fist, always ready for dance
or fight, or for love-making. or any
other pleasant employment. There is
always on his head a rather bad hat
worn jauntily, however, and, though he
may be occasionally rather short OF
food, he manages always to get enough
to be fat, sleek and rosy. And then be
always has a laugh on his face, a joke
on his lips, and he goes through life
with perpetual "hurroo."
And Katy, she is always presented to
US cl d in a short wooden gown, her
shaptly legs inclosed in warm red stock
iDgs, and she has bright red handker-
chief about her neck, with good COM
Portable shoes, and coquettish straw
hat-a buxom girl who can dance down
any lad within ten miles, and can
''hurroo" as well as Pat, and trifie
better.
The Irish priest is always represent
ed to us as fat, sleek, jolly fellow wis
is constantly giving his people good adj
vice, but who, nevertheless, is always
ready TO sing The Cruiskeen Lawn, !"
in rich, mellow voice" before asplen-
did fire in the house of his parishioners,
with glass of poteen in one hand and
a pipe IN the other, the company join
ing JOLLY in the chorus. He Is sup
posed to live in luxury from the super
stition of his people, and to have about
as easy life as any man on earth.
LIES.
All these are lies.
The Irishman is the saddest man on
the surface of the globe. You may
travel a week and never see a smile or
hear laugh. Utter and abiect misery,
and helplessness are not