The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1888-03-21
THE LEGEND OF ST. PATRICK.
Ths Day When Every True Son OF Ireland
Revels in Recollec,ions OF Attic and Killarney.


Saturday was st. Pairick's day-a
a day dear to the heart of every patriotic
Irishman, and one which he singles out
from every other day in the year. NO mat
ter in what portion Of the world he may
be, the true son OF the Emerald Isle Will
honor St. Patrick Day While itreminds
him of the dark cloud which has so long
hovered over his native land, it also brings
many pleasant rccollections, and recollec-
tions of such a character as to make his
heart leap with emotion as they well up IN
the storehouse of memory. He goes back
in imagination to the days of his childhood
innocence when with glowing life and splr,
its he climbed the mountain sides or bathed
in the broad streams and lakes whose rip
pling waters purl along the grassy banks
Blessed with robust health and too young
to understand the unfortunate condition OF
his country, he roamed the green fields as
happy as the larkS that fitted over them:
He remembers also as he grew to manhood
the winsome lass, whose cheeks were Ike
the bloom of the rose; whose eyes were like
the azure skies in June, and whose voice
was sweeter than all other melodies OF earth.
No after joys can equal those which were
his when hand in hand he first walked
with her who was destined to share with
him the joys and woes of life. When he
used to say:
Och, Kittie, l love ye, an faith I can't
mend it,
Yer lips air so rosy yer eyes air so blue;
With smile that's so rogulsh-the saints
all defend it,
That if am ravin' the fault is wid you.
Ye chide me an frown, yet meself it is
thinkin'
More angry ye'd be wild me were to so:
Sure, kittie me heart like stone would
be sinkin'
Ell thought wild more than yer lips ye
said no.
Then out on ye foolin' me, darlin, nor taze
me:
But end this suspince if yevalue me life
In coorse there is minny another could
plaZe me,
An make, like yerself, me true, lovin'
wife.
Don't flash wild yer two eyes, didn't quite
name it;
Though the truth It's the same, an the
divil say no
Thin come TO me arrums-och, must eX-
plain it,
Ne socks air all out at the heel an the
toe
There's the pig, the poor darlin', an sure
he is failliD'
Wild groanin' an moanin-begob it's q
sin,
From mornin' till night the swate craythur
is wailin'
An no one to carry his shwill to the pin.
Then come to me shanty, I beg of yez,
kittie,
Say YES an wild Joy III be dancin' a jig;
If not for meself in yer heart ye take pity,
Och. kittie, remember the woes OF me
pig.
Ali these joys, it is true, have vanished
vanished like shadows under the cover OF
night-but the recollection Of them is like
pleasant dreams which the Irishman never
| wishes TO forget
The day is also specially honored because
St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland,
first brought the glad tidings of the gospel
TO the Island and dispelled the darkness OF
paganism. When quite boy he was cap
tured by pirates and sold as slave in Ire,
! land. For many years he was cmployeo as
shepherd along the mountains of Slemish,
but finally succs eded in making his escape
to France where he entered a convent and
studied for the priesthood. His sole aim
was to complete his studies, that he might
| return to Ireland and convert the people tc
Christianity The wish so dear to his heart
was finally grati6ed, and in due time he
appeared at Tara with some French monks
and commenced the mission which was only
to end with life By the aid of the sham
rock he made clear the doctrine of the Holy
Trinity, and converts hocked to him by the
thousands. Many amusing stories are told OF
St. Patrick, one of them being to the effect
| that he charmed ali the snakes of Ireland
into large box and sanh the box in the
lakes of Killarney.