The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1881-11-21
IRELAND.
A Regulation Cabin in the Village
of Bantry.
The Real Irish Man, Irish Girl and Irish
Priest.

/ miles distant, owned and cOntrOlleu Dy MY
Lord BantrY, who is, or at least ought to be,
| one Of the richest 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 as they are there called, you
| walk up a rather steep hill, through crooked
street, and you find yourself in the midst OF
| the regulation Irish cabins-miserable struc-
| lures of stone piled one upon the other, not
even daubed with plaster, with no windows as
rule, though the more pretentious ones have
single pane of glass in the wall somewhere.
However, as that pane is almost invariably
broken, its principal use is the extra ventils-
| tion it affords
| The cabin is the same size as those on farms,
| say from ten to twelve feet wide by fifteen or
| sixteen in length In the country, however
| they do have the space above to the thatched
| roof; but land is more valuable in the villages,
| and My Lord Bantry's expenses in London
and Paris are enormous. He must get more
| money out Of the villagers and he makes two
stories out of the wretched hoyel, and by
| crowding in two families makes double rent.
The first floor is not above five feet six inches
| In height, and the upper is good foot shorter
In neither floor can an ordinary man stand
upright
THE To-BE WIDOW FLANAGAN.
We went up the miserable stairs in one of
them, and gained the still more miserable den
| above. 1t was more like a ce fin than room,
and the idea of coffin was brought forcibly to
the mind as you glanced at the wretched occu-
pants. On a miserable bed of dried leaves
covered with potato sacks. on the one side, was
| the emaciated form of a man dying of starva-
ton and consumption. He had about forty
| eight hours of life in him. Upon my word /
| felt happy to see he was SO near death.
For, having an excellent reputation,
having always been good man.
good man, he was certain to go after death,
where tt ere would not be the slightest possi-
BILE chance of meeting My Lord Bantry. In
| the other corner was fiat stone upon
| which a consumptive fire of peat was burning.
| Huddled around this fire five children,
under the watchful eye of very comely wom-s
man. The children were barefooted and
stockingless, and clad in the most deplorable
rags, while the mother, also barefooted, was
clothed in the regular cotton slip without
particle of underclothing Of any kind or de-
scription. And into that garret, poor as it
was came other women, not clothed sufficient
y to be decent, to boil their potatoes at the
wretched fire. They have practice of ex-
changing fires in this way, that none shall be
wasted.
''What do you pay sor this apartmept?'
"Tenpence week, SCRIP
"Aie you in arrears for rent?''
''Yis sor. He [pointing to her husband] has
been sick, sor, for months, for, and cud not
worruk.''
"What will you do if he dies?"
I'VE shall be put out, sor.''
This with no burst of anguish, with no spec
ial tone of anger or manifestation of emotion.
To be 'put OUT is the common lot of the Irish
laborer and the Irish wife, and they expect it,
And within a mile of that wretched spot, of
that dying man and starving children, my
Lord Bantry has the most beautiful castle,
with luxurious furniture and filled with pam
pered 1unkies. his stables crowded with the
most wonderful horses and his table groaniDg
under the weight of the luxuries of every
cline.
Surely not for tenpence week will he tear |
this woman from the side of her dead husband |
and throw her children out into the cold and |
wet street?
Yes, but he will though.
For this family is but of many thous- |
ands on the land which bad King stole from |
the people who owned il. Were this but the |
only case, he might relent; bat should he do it |
in this case, he would have to do it for the |
others, and tenpence a week from thousands /
aggregates a very large sum; and my Lord |
Bantrys expenses are very high, for it COSTS |
money to run castle; and there is his house /
in London, his house n Paris, and his house In |
Rome, and his houses the Lord knows where; |
a,,A han 10 ID axn hic
officers and men must be paid. TO say nothing |
of the larder and wines necessary to entertain |
his friends from London during the shooting |
season and occasional losses at play, and all |
that
Clearly the Widow Flanagan must either |
pay her rent or be pitched out into the street to
make room for some other widow who can pay /
for while, at least; and, when she can't pay, |
there are others who can.
1t is needless to add that there is in Bantry /
Bay splendid English gunboat. armed, as in
time of war, with FURNISHED guns, with bombs |
of all sorts of explosive power, rified guns
with fne-looking marines, armed TO the
teeth, which, with the military on shore,
would make it very warm for the Widow /
Flanagan and her friends should they presume
10 interfere with my Lords land agent and the /
bailiffs, ana the soldiers behind them. The
widow has nothing to do but to bow her head |
and submit and pray that some relief may |
come to her from somewhere. But whore is it |
TO come from? Not from my Lord, for, as |
said, he has his private expenses to meet: not |
from his agent, for he was selected for his es-
pecial fondness for pitching women and chill
drep into the street; not from England, for |
England looks upon every country she has |
anything to do with as either to be plundered |
or traded with; not from the peasantry about /
her, for they are In the same boat with the |
widow.
What becomes of her finally, don't know. |
l am altogether too soft-hearted to stay any |
length of time where such things are to be seen |
every hour.
II i ever leaned toward the doctrines taught |
by the Universaists, a contemplation of the
system of Bantrysm has entirely and COM |
pletely convinced me that they are erroneous. |
If there is not lake of fire and birthstone, |
very wide, and very deep, and very hot one, |
there ought to be, and when the British House |
of Lords meet, there will always be quorum. |
And my Lord will lift up his eyes to the Wild |
ow Flanagan and beg for a drop of water to |
cool his parched tongue. But he won't get it. |
He doesn't deserve it,
woFUL LACK OF KNOWLEDGE
1t is impossible to make an American COM |
prehend 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 in |
this matter, for the reason that nothing paral- |
lei exists on the American side OF the water. |
And. besides this, the writers for the stage |
and of general literature have most wofully |
misrepresented the Irshman and woman and |
very much to his or her disadvantage
Iu6 lflSundu Oh buo SbdSo anu HONeI Is al !
ways happy-go lucky sort of a reckless fellow |
with short-taied coat, red vest and corduroy |
trousers, woollen stockings and stout brogans, |
with bottle of whiskey peeping out of his |
pocket blackthorn shllelah in his fist, always |
ready for dance or a fight, or for love max |
ing or any other pleasant employment. There |
is always on his head rather bad hat, worn |
jauntily, however, and though he may be oe- |
oasionaly rather short of food, he manages to |
get enough to be fat, sleek and rosy. And |
then he always has laugh on his face and be |
goes through life with a perpetual "hurroo"
And Katy, she is always presented TO us
clad in short woolen gown, her shapely legs |
enclosed in warm red stockings, and she has
bright red handkerchief about her neck, with
good, comfortable 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 trif1e better
The Irish priest is always represented to US
as fat, sleek, jolly fellow who is constantly |
giving his people good advice, but who never
theless, is always ready to sing "The Cruis-
keen Lawn in ''rich, mellow voice, ''before J
a splendid fire in the house of his parishion- |
ers, with glass of poteen in one hand and a
pipe in the other, the company joining istiily |
in the chorus. He is supposed to live in luxury |
from the superstition OF his people, and to have