The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1886-10-30
A TRUE STORY OF THE IRISH
FAMINE.

The potato famine in Ireland was no.
where felt more severely than in that
part OF the country where the following
story is told as true tale: In a small
village in one Of the most barren dis
tricts OF the west OF ireland there lived a
very poor widow whose sole inheritance
was two healthy children girls, of the
respective ages of three and five. Pain
fully and by the utmost efforts she con-
trived to pass two years OF her sorrowful
widowhood. Bad and scanty food OBJ
tanned only by labor too great for her
delicate frame, had at last thrown her
upon her sick bed, and death, in pity,
removed her in few days, and without
great suffering, from all her earthly
troubles. The poverty, of the parish was
SO great that nothing could be done for
the orphans. All the neighbors, with the
utmost desire to help, were too famine
stricken and heard their own children
too often cry in vain for bread to assist
others. "If the children could only be got
to Kilburn," village some miles distant,
said one of the neighbors after the poor
mother had been buried, "a brother OF
their father lives there, and he could not
possibly refuse to take care of them"
"But matters are as bad there as here"
replied another, "and / fear they will be
no better off there"
sit cannot possibly be worse than here,
for nothing but starvation stares them in
the face. If we send them to their rela-
tons we have done our duty. We can
not possibly keep them here"
All we're at last agreed upon this; and
as there was carrier who on the next
day was going near TO Kilburn, he was
requested, as an act of charity, to take the
children with him. The man readily
consented, and the neighbors felt salts
fed that they had done all that could be
REQUIRED of them. The carrier, as agreed,
came the next day and took the girls
Lizzie was now seven and Mary five in
his cart with him. The timid children
kept very quiet and close together; the
carrier hardly locked at them. Toward
noon they reached the spot where the
cart would turn off. The man lifted
them out, showed them road to the left
and babe them go straight forward, and
il they did not turn from the high road
they would, in about two hours, come to
the place. He then drove off. The chill
dren sobbed out "Good-by" and looked
after him as long as they could see the
least speck of the cart, and then they both
began to cry. Lizzie ceased her crying
frat, she took hold Of her little sisters
hand, who had seated herself on the
ground, and said: sect up, Mary; we
must rot stay here, if We wish to get to
Kuburn. We cannot stop here on the
road"
II am hungry" sobbed Mary; "we have
ha nothing TO eat all day."
And again they began to cry, for Liz
zle was equally as hungry. The poor
children had gone TO bed without food
the night before; it was a long time since
intJ uhu lutl Luoui5 lho uelSuDOIS
where they had stayed since the death of
their mother, had not given them any
breakfast, as the poor people had really
the mselves nothing to eat. 1t was now
dnner time, but there was no dinner for
them.
Come, Mary" at last said Lizzie, eve
must try to get to some house; We may
perhaps get q little bread or few pota-
tee. II we stay here we shall starve;
no one will bring us anything to eat here.
''Tt our dear mother we're but alive,
exclaimed the little cue, getting up with
The children were getting very weak
and could only drag themselves slowly
along. Hand in hand they tottered on.
Several times Mary declared she could
not 90 any farther and sat down on the