The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1889-03-13

f9fxfsfEs
And boycott the aathsn Of 'aise as more
THE WRATH OF THE M00RES
A fright, sunny afternoon. and a
scene OF rural beauty stretching back
from old oceans beach on the south
western coast OF ireland. Inland lay
meadow after meadow, bright with
verdure, and aelds. which. titled for
centuries. are asili prolific. On ris-
ing knoll from the sea stood the cot
tags ona ou.houses of John Lovett,
farmer. and Of right freeman, but al
most serf. As he rested on his hoe,
after hard afternoons work in his
potato patch, his rugged form and
rudy complexion formed striking
picture with the blue OF the ocean and
the green OF the land.
But John. u he thought Of II in that
light at all. knew that IL was all pic
ture. and that there was little OF the
ideal in the life led by him and his
hard-toiiing neighbors. Only himself
knew what il meant for man in his
position to possess, though II only
as tenant by the grace of his
majesty. "the gintleman at the
big house. that modest fhatcaed cot
tage with farayards aud sheds. And
If the less fortunate villagers ascribed
his thrift 10 luck, il was luck. hich
when analysed. resolved itself into
strict economy and almost privation;
for John. who was aspiring in bis
work. had long ago learned that old
Ireland, though claiming all his love,
could but III repay her children for
their ceaseiess labor. And so he
made up his mind 70 enigrate when
from the sale OF his crops and dairy
produce sufficient might he saved.
after the payment Of his rent and the
complex taxes, to carry out his pro-
iect. the contamination OF which
meant additional self-denial. 1t did
not mean abstinence from operas, ex-
cursions and drives. All. no. for John
and his kind had always been total alb
stainers In that direction. But IL
meant toll toll, toll, early and late,
with no relaxation, either at the tav-
ern, where his fun-loving nsighbers
met to forget in their cups the barren
ness of their lives. or at the fair that
oasis In the desert OF everyday Irish
life where anxiety for the disposal OF
his butter and wool superseded ali
other emotions, Not that John was
an ascentic or hermit by any means.
for under yonder roof. which often
echoed a merry Jest or comic ditty,
and of late the baby laughter of young
Jack, were sheltered his mother, still
hale and hearty, and his wife, Kate,
for whose heart few years before
John had waged warfare with half the
village braves. Straight and we'll
formed, with rosy cheek. bright eye.
and the Unborn Wit and vim OF her
countrywomeD. II is no wonder that
Kate Moore was surrounded by an adj
miring court and that she grew up the
most accomplished eoqueste In the
parish. but wlthai. As fine an thrue
. geril," old phadrig Rhnc used 10
say, las liver broke mans heart. =
And it was not because be had the
grass Of more cows than his rivals
that John Lovett's suit Was arcepted,
but ii was because Kate. who was n
sensible girl. could appreciate true
manhood, and bad given TO him that
love which none OF the others could
ever hope 10 win from her.
So she aud John were married. their
only wedding gifts the blessings and
well wishes as old friends. for they
were universal favorites She proved
faithful helpmate, full of tact aud
thrift. and heartily agreed with John
In all his ideas and projects Each
lived for the other, and they we're
mutually happy in their lore.
Ii was oi her and the baby that John
thought ss he packed up his scattered
tools and wended his way toward the
cottage, From within came the whirF
of the spinning wheel and the low
Groom of hts mothers singing. while
she spun 90 keep the baby quiet. Her
efforts. however. we're useless after the
boy had caught sight OF bis fa her. and
nothing would do but a gambni in
front OF the cottage While PLAYING
with the child John thought oY Kate.
whom he had aof seen, and be asked
his mother where she was. She re-
piled that she had started short time
before % the village 10 make q few
purchases. and was going beyond With
scfue eggs and little butter 90 Widow
neiaaey's, who II sick, poor soul,
and in sore want.
g wish bad known she wAs s,o-
ing" said John and woala have
gone myself. The Wind is coming up
and khe night viii be rough However.
there Is no use worrying, and | hope
she VIII get home before the storm
breaks -
As mother and son sat enjoying the
cool hseeAe that hal sprung up. they
esplesi a familiar figure coming NJ the
road. A tall, laaniy form witch
STOPPED little and swave,l slightly
from side "a side Is il advanced tronl
the lane up the resad towarsi the cotr.
age. As il drew nearer they caught
the sir of a drinking song with the re
train, "Ora nAastiree uAa crai<keen
lawn. tFolleSt atst hy . rich baritone
voice, which just nos Was somewhat
husky.
us Con. poor hoy, said Mrs. Isox-
cit, and John silently nsalslei bis
head. Vera. what's sat into hlm =
Three years ago there wasn't fiaeg
hoy IN the village, Nhen his mother
Vas diving she told ane she aiea happy
becAase she knew her Canny was
steady aaa sensible. and na~ IL she
saw him 'tweuld hsvak her heart. $
Fer HsSi's sake slolher. don {
mention her name ~ben be gesS here
lie has never EaFT4sstsm her susf il
drives him Wild 10 refer ia her when
hes not himself
Mrs. loFest iooke>! czsrieaSly &c her
son ~ he spoke and the sh0afhs
passed through her mini that II aav.
one knew The ca0s * ton Eesans 4
dissipation. John SD And she was
ssot tar sruta the truth in her sari9sss.s
t,on and Joan haA been slaynSies
and ehNnsS since eals3hsAsNs Aal stood
shoulder 80 shoulder IA hoy5sh GUAR.
reis. and were sinEnaariy alike ia their
tastes and 8sSposltsnns Tbs re HAD
alwdyS leea = latsaai csEesSFseSS IN
teA which ass srffssSesa ~ the insla~
eylse and example vi the nAore sessaie
Joha. The turning point came wh..a
= 81 =. =. - = A