The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1886-02-11


gently:
''Oh, if you would be SO good and
give US the least little bit to eat-a small
piece of bread or few potatoes"
Il thought So" shouted the farmer;
81 was sure you were nothing but beg
gars, although you do not seem to be-
long to this neighborhood We have
plenty of those here, and do not want
them to come from other parts. We
have no bread for ourselves in these hard
times. You will get nothing here Be off
this moment"
The children, d-eadfully frightened,
began both to cry bitterly.
''That will not 90 you any good" con-
tinued the man; ''that kind of whining
is nothing new to me, and won't move
me. Let your parents feed you; but
they, no doubt, prefer idling rather
than getting their living by honest
labor"
"Our parents are dead" said Lizzie.
81 thought SO" replied the farmer,
whenever children are sent out to beg
their father and mother are always dead,
or at least their father. That is a mere
excuse for begging. Be off this min
ute"
1--WE have not eaten morsel the
whole day." pleaded Lizzie; 1--WE are so
tired that we cannot move a step. If
you would but give us the least bit to
eat, we are so hungry"
81 have tod you should not. Beggars
get nothing here
The farmer got up with a threatening
look. Lizzie quickly opened the door
and drew her sister along with her. The
children again stood in the farm-yard,
but knew not what to do; suddenly little
Mary drew her hand from her sisters
clasp and went to the other side of the
yard; there was a big, fierce dog chain
ed, his dinner stood before him in
wooden basin; Mary put her hand in
the oasin and began to eat with the dog.
Lizzie went nearer, and saw that in the
basin there was some liquid, in which a
few pieces of bread and some boiled po-
tatoes were floating; she likewise could
not resist; she had but one feeling-that
of most gnawing hunger; she took some
of the bread and potatoes and ate them
greedily.
The dog, not accustomed to such
guests, looked at the children full of as
tonishment: he drew back a little, then
sat down and left them his dinner, of
which he had eaten very little. At this
moment the farmer stepped into the
yard; he wished to see whether the child
rem had really left, and then he saw this
singular scene. The dog was noted for
his fierceness and feared alike by young
and old; he was obliged to be constant
ly chained No one dared to come near
him, except his master Even the SER
want put the food before him in the most
cautious manner.
In the first moment the man thought
of nothing but the fearful danger in
which the children were, and, quickly
walking toward them, he exclaimed
Don't you see the dog? He will tear
you to piecesr' But suddenly he stop
ped as if rooted to the ground; the dog
had got up again and gone near the
children, then he looked at his master
and wagged his tail. 1t seemed as if he
wished to say: Don't drive my guests
awayr'
At that sight a great change came
over the man; the spectacle before him
acted upon him like an electric shock,
and feelings such as he had never had
before seemed to stir within him.
The children had risen. terrified at
the call of the man, fearful of punish
ment for having eaten against his COM
At last, after several minutes silence,
the farmer asked:
"Are you really SO fearfully hungry
that you do not even despise the dogs
foodp"
But without waiting for an answer he
continued:
''Come in, then, you shall have
something to eat, and as much as you
like
And, taking them by the hand, he
led them into the house, calling out to
the servant:
"Biddy, get some hot bread and milk,
and be quick, for these children"
The dog had shamed his master-the
brute had taught the man. Touched by
what he had seen, the farmer was anx-
ious to make amends for what his con-
science had showed him to be a great
sin. He seated the children at the table,
sat down by them, and kindly asked
them their names.
''My name is Lizzie" said the eldest,
land my sister is called Mary"
''Have your parents been dead longp"
Sour father has been dead two years,
but our mother only died last week"
At the thought of their recent loss
both children began again to weep.
Don't cry, children" said the farmer
kindly. "God will in one way or an
other take care of you.,s But tell me,
now, where did you come from?'
ssErnr,, I purrbrao - ro,,iiaI ho II.
"From Loughrea?" asked the man,
''from Loughreao That is stranger He
began to suspect the truth, and asked
hesitatingly:
What is your fathers name?"
Martin Sullivan" replied Lizzie.
-Martin-Martin SullivanP"
he exclaimed, jumping up at the same
time and casting a piercing look at the
children, thoroughly frightening them.
His face grew red-then tears came to
his eyes-at last he sobbed aloud. He
took the youngest child in his arms,
pressed her to his heart and kissed her.
The child struggled and called for help
to her sister; she could not think what
the man meant.
Then he put down the little one and
did the same to Lizzie, who took it more
quietly, as she had seen that the man
had not hurt her sister. At last he be-
came more composed; he dried his tears
and said
do you know my name, chiklren?"
NO" replied Lizzie.
''How happened it, then, that you
have come to me?" he asked. HAS any
one sent you to me?''
Nobody has sent u.s. replied Lizzie.
''We were to 60 to Kilburn. where a
brother of our father lives, and they said
he would gladly receive us. But do
not believe it, for our mother always
said he is hard-hearted man, who does
not care for his relations
Your mother was quite right when she
said SC" said the farmer but what
will you do if the hard-hearted man does
not receive you?"
Then we shall have to starye," an
cyuaraJ ,vzia