St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1888-02-23

gathera peculiar kind of weed of deep
red color. 1t is very difficult to get it at
times, as it clingS to the
rocks in dangerous places. After
1t is brought ashore 1t is
matched with potato stalks and
DRIED IN THE Sun
for weeks. In September il is burned.
From the ashes chemists get iodine.
Can you imagine the amount of work
that is required to get ton OF this
stuff? When it is ready il is transported
to kilkerran. Once the people received
80 a ton for it. Now they are fortunate
If they get e3. The agent pretends that
he has chemical analysis for testing
the kelp. Sometimes he refuses it al
together and again he will pay 10 shil-
lingS for ton. OF course he can do eX-
actly as he wants to, for he has no COM
petitorS. The people must take what
he offers or throw their kelp into the
sea. Last year two brothers named
Flaherty divided pile of kelp into two
loads. One brother received ES for his
share, the other was told that his kelp
was worthless. Not farthing would
the agent give for it. Flaherty
sailed away and sent the
same kelp back by his uncle,
oBrien, the following day. The agent
pald "a for 1t at once. 1t is such deal
ing as this that upSetS the people and
ruins their ambition. Their lot is very
hard, and yet they are most faithful and
good. Think of what an advanced state
OF morality there is here when | tell you
there has not been an illegitlmate birth
among the 5000 people on these islands
in forty years"
rs there no emigratiOn?'
"There was, worse luck" said the
priest with doleful shake of the head.
America took the flower of the people.
\ fund was raised and the young men
all sailed away, leaving only the chill
drcn and the old people on the islands.
The boys are doing we'll across the wa
ter, because the people of Aran are nat
urally frugal and industrious, but they
have forgotten the old folks at home.
Many appeals have been made to them,
but in vain. When they first arrive in
the states they send pound and a
PHOTOGRAPH. but that is all. Once in
while they recommend the work house
to their starving friends"
us there a work house herc?'
mo, indeed. The nearest one is
thirty-twO miles away. If one Of my
people goes in they might as well all go
III. for the degrees of poverty are very
slight. We are all taxed to support the
work house, but I'm proud to say that
there is not man OF woman of Aran
under the roof. I'll show you how the
poor laws work for the Irish poor A
fisherman here-a good, steady, hard
working man--found things going
against him. Toll as he would he could
not make both ends meet He worked
night and day. Once | remember he
way with them and sold them for 4
shillings. Then he travelled back with
his money, having done sixty miles. In
spite of his struggles his wife died of
privatiOn and the lack of the neceS-
sarieS of life. He was left with four
little children on his hands, besides his
invalid sister. A man can struggle
TO the limit-no more. | could not
help him because my money is long
since gone, and there are hundreds of
pressing cases. The fisherman was
desperate. His children cried all day
for food. Finally one of them fell ill,
and this decided him. He took them
all to the wOrkhouse. When he got
there at last they refused to take the
children in, despite their pItiful condi-
ton, unless the father would go in with
them and work for their support. Of
course he couldn't do this, for his in
valid sister would have died without
his care. He begged to have the young
est child taken in, even if the others
were not. All of no avail. He was
turned away
WITHOUT A COPPER
to help him on his long Journey back.
Here he is at home again, willing to
work himself to the bone, and never
complaining Of his responsibilities, but
his lot is hard enough. The youngest
child died not long since. He sent for
me, and was going to his cabin when
you arrived tonight"
Anything of special Importance"
The sisters very low" said the
priest, rising half alphabetically. "And
if you'll excuse me I'll 60"
''Shall we go with you?' asked Mr..
Davitt.
1T will be long walk and a cold
one" said Father O'Donoghue, "but if
you wish to sound for youself the depths
of human misery, come"
1t was after 10 o'clock and the wind
was whistling furiOusly around the little
Ont-Story cabin as we started out The
stiffness of death reigned without but
for the noise of the wind. and L was
startled by finding myself suddenly
face to face with crowd of several
hundred people who had gathered
silently in front of the cabin and stood
and waiting patiently to catch look at
the Irish leader. Father O'Donoghue
was as much surprised as l was to
see the assembly. They cheered
when Mr.. Davitt followed us out
of the house. The priest stepped
forward quickly, and, mov-
ing to the center of the big crowd, held
up his hands. Hats were whisked off
Oh all sides, and the men and women
pressed forward like children to listen.
The moon lighted the scene. Then
Father O'DonOghue talked to them for
few minutes in gentle and insistent
way, as mother reprimands a sickly
child. 1t was wonderfully impressive.
The priests low, deep-toned voice
seemed enchantment to their ears:
''YOu should go to your homes, for
tina wind is sharp without and shelter is
needed to the thinly clad. Keep well
within doors, and prepare for the relief
that is to come. Not long will you have
to suffer. for good friend has come
among you to see if you are honest and
willing to toll. If you are, work will be
provided for you, and from work comes
food. No money will be given away, for
that makes paupers of you, and know
you had rather work than beg, no mat
ter how dire the need. Mr.. Davitt is
worn with long Journeys tonight, but
tomorrow he will speak to you all. Go,
now. Go to your cabins and to bed"
Without a word they hurried obedi-
emily away. We started briSkly down
the path after the priest, who strobe
sturdily along rocky road that ran by
the edge of the bay. The mountain of
rocks rose on one side, the sea stretched
out on the other. We marched thus in
single file for half an hour, and then,
approaching small village, the priest
led the way to one of the huts-that oc-
| man whose story he had told us before
we started out. He lighted bit of
candle which he had brought along and
held it al0ft after we had bent almost