Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1886-07-16
LOST AT THE FLAX-MILL.

In the beautiful district OF Fannet, on the
coast OF Donegal near Tough Swilly-the
Lake Of Shadows-lived two poor families,
celebrated far and wide as the best neigh.
bors ever known or heard Of. II Martin
wanted hand with his harvest Donnelly was
ready to give it aud ask no wages, and the
kindness was reformed when the potato dig.
ging came on. Their wives also lived in the
greatest harmony, and they were such close
neighbors that they met continually, for one
roof covered the two houses.
This log cabin, or rather range Of cabins
stood on the banks Of MulToy, an inlet Of the
Atlantic, so landlooked as to look like a lake
Behind lowered gigantic hesther-crowned
mountains in front lay the high road leading
from the sea 10 Milford, the nearest market
town, a winding road hard and white from
limestone, now dipping down into valley,
now mounting up short hill, and always
keeping close to the blue waters of MulrOy
divided from it by shelving bank, festooned
with woodbine. Mulroy was studded with
many isands-islands sacred to the "wee
folks; islands in possession Of the sea birds !;
islands where sleepy, broad. proved seals
basked on warm evenings. Beyond Mulroy
rose more mountains, the nearer hills Guilt
waited to their SUBMITS, the more distant so
pale and indistinct that they were like smoke
colored phantoms against the sky. Errigal
a crane-shaped mountain, the last point of
Irish earth seen by the emigrants as they
sailed to America, and Muckish, the pigs
back, we're most prominent in the range.
The Martins and the Donneliys did not
know that they were looking at one of the
loveliest landscapes in the world They
thought MulrOy a wild, desolate place.
Sometimes the deep silence of the place
was broken by the keening of mourners or
chant Of priests, and then the children in the
cabins would run out to the road and look up
and down.
A long procession wound from the seacoast
on its way TO yonder battle-ground beneath
the chapel at the edge of the lAke-a holy
spot, marked by forest of black wooden
crosses The priest walked first then came
the coffin, followed by motley company
men in long gray stockings, knee breeches
and brogues, mounted on shaggy ponies, and
women seated behind them dressed in home
spun and scarlet headgear. The keening
woke the mountain echoes, the fairy glen
throwing back the sound to the fl Al mill that
stood gaunt and grim by the roadside; then
the crying and chanting died away and floods
OF curlew and ployer circling overhead sang
a shrill requiem. Two of the children were
wont to follow the procession-Teague Mar
tin and Mary Donnelly. They were insepara.
BILE, toddling hand hand to school, hand.
finland to chapel, playing together, herding
the cows together on the knewes. They
would follow the procession as far as the flax
mill, a mile from their own doors, and would
stay there TO play. The gossips of the coun-
try remarked the tender friendship of the
children, and foretold that it would end in
matrimOny.
The first separation of these little friends
took place when they we're Is years old, and
league was hired by farmer. Mary moped
and fretted when he was gone, wandering
sadly to the hax-mill, their old play place, and
then wandering back again with her head
hanging down. But she found some con-
ISOLATION in knitting his socks, washing his
clothes and carrying the little bundle to him
on Saturday at the farmhouse
Things did not turn out as the neighbors
expected. The friends did not become low
ers they remained devoted friends, but they
married strangers. Years went by. The old
Martins and Donneleys we're gathered to
their fathers" aud Mary and her husband,
and league and his wife lived on in the old
cabins, ''in-under the roof wi other" and
the good neighborhood was the same as ever
Time passed they grew middle.aged, then
old; the days when they had played at the
fax mill we're very far away.
One day Mary was taken very ill-so i'll
that the priest was sent for. She received
the last rites of the church, and then she ask
ed for league. He was at a distance-gone
to Milford with cattle to sell-would not re-
turn home till late. Mary watched the door
as long as her sight lasted.
''Is there no word of league ?" was her
constant question. His name was the last
upon her lips.
A woful man was league when he found
his old friend gone. He walked beside her
husband after the coffiu, and saw her laid
low in the churchyard mold, and then be
came back 10 the cabins the truest mourner
she had. But work had to be DONE though
his heart was heavy, and the next evening he
took his fax to the mill
As be logged along the limestone road in
his cart he was suddenly aware OF a figure
seated behind him on the bundles OF fax.
How had she got there9 He was thrilled
with terror, and it was all he could do to look
around and see who was his companion. An
old woman? Yes; and her red shawl, the
gray hair, the Il atures, the blue eyes, which
had never lost their brightness, all reminded
him of Mary. He looked closer 1t was Ma.
ry certainly, and he must conquer his fear
and speak to her for the sake of their life
long friendship. Must Mary be a restless
wanderer because her old comrade failed her
No-a thousand times mol So, with tire.
mendOus effort he conquered his dread
MARY, darlin', is it you 2" he faltered.
at is, league, dear it IT,"
IAN what is 1t, Mary, that's keepin' you
frae your rest Shure you had the priest and
he gave you the viaticum? 2"
The voice he knew 30 we'll answered in ao-
cents that pierced his heart.
There's nae rest for me. / flew up to the
gate of heaven, but wouldns be let in, an
I'm Ayin about the world in the cold an the
rain, or lyin' sbaok of yon thorn bush. Think
on me, league, in the night time when you
ones is comfortable by the freside, an pity
me an help me for the sake of we'er old
friendship"
Help you !" cried the poor man; 'shure
| I'd gle my hearts blood to help you bui
how is it to be done? An why Wad you no
be let in heaven, good Twin woman like
your"
'Tn tell you, league, replied the spectre
CHATS what I'm here to tell you. It's true
that went about my duty regular, an kneli
wi the congregation in the chapel Sunday
after Sunday, an was respectit for good
Twin woman, but in all my lifetime l never
prayed. My lips would be movin', but my
thoughts would be away. When l was Q
| young girl I'D be thinkin' OF my sweetheart
or my dress or the dance at the fair; when
was a married woman I'd be frettin' about
the ohilder, thinkin ans o. them would fall
into the fire or another would be drowned in
the well when was out, an when l was old
there was frets an anXieties still but, any
way, in all them years never prayed, 80
Gamma be let in"
MARY, Mary, poor SOUL What is it l car
do for YEP"
'Listen, league. Go to his reverence
Father Dan, an pay him to offer up two
masses for my sinful soul but the money
The money, Maryp It's here" touching
his pocket, AYE, II it was twiste as much
it's here. But how will know that the mas
SOS is accepted an that yen be let into heav
emp"
The figure began to die away and the voice
was fainter.
"If am forgiven, the night after the sec
ond mass is said for me I'll come 10 you il
the form of white bird and I'll stand in the
window at the foot of your bed an sing you
beautiful hymn before ay away to heaven.
The voice died away softly, and just al
they reached the haK-mill the figure dis
appeared. Weary though league was thai
night, he went straight to the priest after