Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1881-11-19
Sorrows Of the People Of Ireland.

SOffOWS OF the People Oh Ireland
Nasby in the Toledo Blade.
It is impossible to make an American compre-
bend the width, depth and bredth of Irish mise
ry until he has seen it with his own eyes. No
other mans eyes are good for anything in this
matter, for the reason that nothing par allel ex-
sts this side of the water And besides this,
the writers for the stage and general literature
have most wofully misrepresented the Irish
man and woman, and very much to his and her
disadvantage.
THE STAGE IRISH MAN.
The Irishman Of the stage and novel is always
a rollicking, happy-go-lucky sort of a reckless
fellow, with a short-tailed coat, red vest and
corduroy trousers, woollen stockings and stout
brogans. with bottle of whisky peeping out
of his pocket, blackthorn shillelah in his fist,
always ready for dance or fight, or for love-
making or any other pleasant employment.
There is alw avs on his head a rather bad hat,
worn jaun tily, 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 he always has laugh on his face, a
joke on his lips, and he goes through life with a
perpetual ''hurroo."
THE IRISH WOMAN.
And Katy, she is always presented to us clad in
a short wooden gown. her shapely legs enclosed
in warm red stockings, and she has bright
red handkerchief about her neck. with good,
comfortable shoes and a eoquettish straw hat,
buxOm girl who can dance down any lad
within ten miles, and can ''hurrOo'' as we'll as
Pat, and a trifie better.
THE IRISH PRIEST.
The Irish priest is always represented to us as
fat, sleek. jolly fellow, who is constantly Civ
ing his people good advice, but who, neverthe-
less, is always ready to sing ''The Cruiskeen
T in a ssr;o hofor
did fire in the house of his parishioners. with
glass Of poteen in one hand and pipe in
the other, the company joining JOLLY in the
chorus. He is supposed to live in luxury from
the superstition of his people, and to have
about as rosy life as any man on earth.
All these are lies.
The Irishman is the saddest man on the sur
face of the globe. You may travel a week and
never see smile or hear a laugh. Utter and
abject misery, starvation and helplessness are
not conducive of merrment.
The Irishman has not only no shOrt-tailed
coat. but he considers himself fortunate if he
has any coat at ALL He has what by courtesy
may be called trOwsers, but the vest is myth.
He has no comfortable wooden stockings, nor is
he possessed of the regulation stage shoes. He
does not sing, dance or laugh, for he has no
place to sing, laugh or dance in. He is q NOV
ing pyramid of rags. man who cuts bog all
day, from daylight to dark, whose diet consists
of a few potatoes twice a day, is not much in the
humor for dancing all night, even were there
place for him to dance in. And as for jollity
man with land agent watching him like
hawk to see how much he is improving his
land, with the charitable intent Of raising the
rent if by any possibility he can screw it out of
him, is not in the mood to laugh, sing. dance or
''hurroO." One might as well think of laughing
at funeral. Ireland is one perpetual funeral.
The CHASTITY procession is constantly passing.
There is unquestionaby vast fund of hum0r
in the Irishman which would be delightful
could it have proper vent. You hear faint tones
of it as it is, but it is in the minor key, and very
sad. 1t always has flavor OF rack-rent in it, a
taste of starvation, a suggestion of eviction and
death by cold and hunger on the road side. 1t
isn't cheerful had much rather have the Irish
men silent than to hear this remnant of jOcu-
larity which is always streaked with blood.
The Irish girl is always cOmeiy, and, properly
clothed and fed, would be beautiful. Still she is
comely. Irish landlordism has not been suffi-
cient to destroy her beauty, though it has done
its best. But she has no gown of wooden stuff
cotton slip without Undertaking of any kind
makes up her costume. The comfortable
stockings and stout shoes, and the red handker-
chief, about her neck are SO many libels upon
Irish landlordism. We're Ny Lords agent to
see such clothing upon girl, he would imrne-
diately raise the rent upon her father and con-
iscate those clothes. And he would keep on
raising the rent till he was certain that shoes
and stockings would be forever impossible.
Neither does she dance Pat down at rustic balls
for most excellent reason, there are no balls.
and besides when she has cut and dried dom
key load Of peat and walked beside that
donkey barefooted in the cold mud twelve
miles and back again, and sold that peat for
sixpence, she is not very much in the humor for
dancing down any one. On the contrary she is
mighty glad to get into her wretched bed of
dried leaves and pull over her the potato sack
which constitu tes her sole covering, and soothed
to sleep by the gruntings of the pigs in the
wretcned cabin, forget landlords and rent, and
go of into the land OF happiness, which to her
is America. She finds in sleep surcease of sor-
row, and besides it refrestes her to the degree
ofwalking barefooteti through the mud twenty
four miles on the morrow, % sell another load
of peat for sixpence, that She may pay more
money to My Lord, whose tOwn-honse in Lon
don and whose mistresses In Paris require 9
great deal OF money. Champagne and the dell
cacies of the season are always expensive. and
My Lords appetite and the appetite OF his wife
and mistresses and his children. legitimate and
illegitimate, are delicate Clearly Katy is In no
humor for danci She has her share to con-
tribute to all these objects. And SO she eats
her meal OF potatoes or stirabout (she never
has both ct once), and goes into sleep and