Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1883-08-30
PAT DELANEY.

It has very often, indeed, been said
and am one who believes in the truth
of it-that there is no general rule, but
there is an exception to it, and so it was
with the subject of our sketch, Pat De-
laney
I am not sure [ am correct in naming
Pat as the subject of the story, mas
much as his gray mare figures as con-
spicuously in it as he himself does; in
short, the story is not of Pat Delaney,
but OF Pat Delaney and His Old Gray
Mare
The Irish are proverbially charitable.
hospitable in the extreme. All who
have seen CT written Of them agree in
saying hospitality is one of the chief
characteristics Of the Irish people, but
in this particular respect Pat Delaney
was G most decided exception.
He was Of stingy, grasping, misery
disposition, utterly regardless how he
made money, so that he made it, and
deaf to the applications of the needy
who sought relief at his hands.
He was a farmer-one Of the better
class-and cultivated a large farm in
one of the northern counties of Ireland,
and, though possessed Of considerable
wealth, was so mean and despicable in
his nature that stranger, Judging from
his appearance, would readily take him
for a mendicant, because Pat consid-
cred it vastly extravagant to be guilty
of a trifing outlay to clothe himself
anew, while he could by any means
manage to make his old garments cover
him.
Among his cattle was an old gray
mare, which Pat himself always drove,
and the trappings of this associate of
many years were in strict accordance
with the proprietor's character-worth-
less.
When told that, in addition to being
50 exceedingly avaricious, Pat was also
superst:tious in the extreme, the reader
Will be able to form some idea of his
character.
Beside the produce Of the farm,
there was another source Of wealth Pat
proftei largely by. This was selling
meal On credit at a very exorbitant
rate to the poor Of the locality, who,
possessed Of small farms, were thus
able. by giving him note on the grow
ing crop, to secure its payment.
L not able to satisfy him beyond the
possibility Of a doubt that he would be
paid, lie certainly would not supply the
wants Of those who appealed to him
but, when thus satisfied, the desire &c
add to his wealth more than balanced
the feeling Of regret he always expert
enced at parting with anything even fol
time.
Now to our story. It was a hot, sui
try day in July that Pat put the we'll
worn harness on his gray mare and pro
ceeded toward the mountain for a loaG
of turf.
The American reader may not know
what "turf" is. "Turf" is fuel, anG
serves the Irish peasantry of the rura
districts as coal does our citizens here
Moss. cut into pieces the shape of ;
brick, but about twice the length, is
when thoroughly dried, called "turf,
and makes an excellent fire. "Turf i
cut with turf spade, peculiar in shape
and well adapted for this special use.
Seated in his old, creaking wagon
and every once in while urging alon;
his miserable animal that was attached
to it, Pat proceeded.
He passed close to the cottage of Mrs
Hogarty, a very poor widow who haC
for some days previous been meditatins
an appeal for meal; but, Pats character
istics being we'll known to her, she ha,
but little hope of succeeding in gettin!
any.
She saw Pat approaching, and a
once resolved to embrace the oppo1
tunity, and set her mind at rest con
corning the meal. She accordingl
came down he path to the highway
and accosted him with:
"Good-morrow, Pat. How are y
sir?"
"Good-morrow, Peggy" he replied
"Im bravely, troth, considering th
kind iv times we hev."
"The kind iv times did ye say, Pat
Musha, it's meself that thinks you kno
little indeed iv the times; it's me an
the likes O. me knows the times is hare
very hard, and no mistake!"
cts thrue for you, poor crethur.
said Pat, in a sympathetic tone, and /
got out of the wagon and walked up
the cabin to get a light for his pip
while the mare, taking advantage I