Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1882-09-01


She was unable to stand, so he kept his
arm around her. After all she had Just
gone through, this mute act of sympathy
overcame Hanorah. The sluice gates OF
her feelings were opened and she told Tie
whole story to Pat Holion, the pig-driver
of Moytura. He trembled so violently that
he was obliged to lean against the gate
post for support Hanornh released her
SELF and there was n dead silence save for
the drip, drip, from the lcafless brsnch-
es of the trees.
"Hanorah, he said at length, in his
gruif tones, what are we goin' to do %
''Tf you an Bridget an Mary will give
me the nights lodgin' I'll go up to NOR
row to the big house, an maybe the mis-
thress will get me u situation"
"An' you'll be comm back wild for
tune like Biddy.'
$50 much the betther!'' she retorted
''it will buy some one to look afther me
for the rest Of my days"
"Hanorah |"
Eyes, Pat"
81 wouldn't be worth buyin' but if
you'll be me wife. I'll love you with my
whole heart an sowl an work my fingers
to the bone for you till the day die I've
loved you this many II year back, lie con-
tinucd, emboldcned by her silence.
"Many night l used to watch you safe
home from wake or dance. You're the
very pulse of my heart, Hanorah, an
if you'll marry me, I'll give up my hope
OF etarnal salvation afore you'll want for
anything"
Hanorah Varily was touched-more by
his tones than by his words She would
have been unworthy of the name OF woman
had she felt otherwise. Hanorah reflect
ed that her lovers had never asked her in
marriage they courted her for Il time,
then fell away from their allegiance out
of their abundance they had offered her
nothing and here was this man offering
her his whole life.
Don't be angry with me, Hanorah-"
'1'm not angry, Pat" she replied slow
ly and very distinctly. 81 don't love you,
Pat AN don't think l ever can but, if you
like, I'll marry We, an be good wife to We. u
Pat Holion gave II sort of gasp. For n
minute his head swan round.
"Come home, Hanorah" wasnll he could
say. They soon reached his cabin door
and he said
"Will You wait here, acourneen, for a
minute ?"
I1uuOTHll ODeyeu. I-ul I1OllOu went II
aud told his two sisters the great and glor-
ious news. Presently the cabin door was
opened, and Bridget and Mary Holion ap-
preached her. They each took a hand of
Hanorah's in silence, and led her across the
threshold, and over to the comfortable
turf fire. Mary placed a round three-leg-
ged stool before it, and Bridget motioning
Hanorah to it, said "Hanorah, that's
where you're to sit. 1t was our mothers
stool, an it's yours by right now"
All that night, and the next one too, Pat
Holion slept in close proximity to his be-
loved pigs. With that chivalrous feeling
which always characterized his thoughts
toward Hanorah, he would not compro-
mise her name in the village by sleeping
under the same roof with her until she was
his lawful welded wife.
On Saturday morning two couples knelt
at the altar befor Father Flavelle. Biddy
Prendergast, in her tawdry tinery, was
married to handsome Pierce Joyce; and
lovely Hanorah Varily, with Mary Holion's
red cloth cloak thrown over her scanty
clothing, in her bare feet and her bare head,
was married to Pat Holion, the swinish-
looking pig-driyer.
"Ay, an Ineverrcpinted of Il" Hano-
rah said many year after, when ques-
toned by Father Flavelle. "For God
gave me the best husband that ever dhrew
the breath of life"
And Hanorah Holion only spoke the
truth.