Semi-weekly south Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1883-1889, 1889-01-08
AN IRISH EVICTION.
The Fierce Struggle for this Posse jsion of
Derelict PEASANTS House.

Dcrclict fcaSunt's House.
A sharp rap is heard on the barri-
caded window. 1t is the sheriff de.
manding possession. lie has his shield
in front of him, and well for him ho
has, for by way of response comes u
spout OF brown liquid that smells viii
lainously. There's lime in it, bedad, "
says an II |. c. sputtering. Lime,
quotha; should think there was, and
something worse. Come now, come
out at once, and give us no more OF this
nonsense; il you don't it win be all the
worse for YOU A schrill scream Of
defiance Is the reply, accompanied by a
splash OF hot water. up with tho
ram,n is the order, ald while the
emergency men are putting Judge
NorDcrry' on his legs, n strange scene
in this tragic comedy is enacted just
outside the line Of sentries. 1t is ono
of the daughters Of the family on her
knees in the sweet long grass, clasping
her hands and praying with all her
heart to the blessed Jesus and tho
Holy Virgin and all the saints to par
boil the sheriff and his men in the rub
bish her dear father was playing upon
them. II might or might not
have been in answer TO her
prayers. All i can say is that
the sheriff and the rest of them had a
pretty good dose of liquid artillery be-
fore their work was finished. "Once
more, will you come out?" "No, |
won't!' "Send ont the women, can't
you do that?" NO, | WON'T and the
women laugh in derision. Back,
away with them back, away with
them" and away the batterlng ram
swinging on itsponderous chain, while
from the blank windows pours the hot
water with the brown liquid upon the
shields of the two mel who are pro-
tecting the swingers. The captain OF
the gang sways his arms, the old wom-
an on the grassy bank walls aloud.
and the iron head Of the ram pounds
against the walls. The ninth blow
drives hole through the brickwork,
but as yet we can see nothing. We
hear, though, plainly eaough-''In wi
you; | have nothing but my fists.
Shoot me IL you like; | don't care.
Better die here than on the roadside.
! would rather die here than any other
place. The breach in the wall
widens, and louder comes Mntt's chal-
lenge: "In wi you, all of you if you
like | have only my fists, why
don't you come Oh yourself, sir2"
This question being apparently
addressed TO Colonel Turner or
to tho sheriff, both of whom
were standing in the hot water line.
At the thirteenth or fourteenth blow
the wall showed II gap of about six feet
in width, and then all at once, Matt
became fully visible or rather
the upper half OF him did, for the
shattered wall of his dwelling was
piled up in front OF him, With white,
haggard face he rushed about, wild
man at bay, glaring at the armed host
in front of him, and shouting hoarsely:
Come on; have only my fists; shoot
me; don't care. | would rather die
here where | was bred and born, and
my father before me-" and springing
10 the edge of the gap shook his fists
in the reckless defiance OF despair.
Wide as the gap was, it was not yet
vide enough for u rush, so the ram
swung again to the gang captains |
song. A big fragment of wall toppled |
over; cataract OF hot water rushed |
1ut through the gap. Matt, who looks
ike madman, pitches out a stream
ol brown liquid, but, with the quick
hess OF lightning, and before Matt had |
lime to dip his vessel for second sup.
ply, Mr.. Inspector Hill dashed up to
he breach. He slipped, and down he
vent head overheels rightinto the heart |
If MATHS den, with a swarm OF Royal
IRISH constables after him, stumbling,
dipping and scrambling; and then it
I'll became n confusion OF dust and
alling brickwork. shrielis, shouts and
'urses. In n few minutes the Royal
irish constables rushed out again pell.
nell covered from head TO foot with
lust and filth, and swaying and stag
,ering round Matt Magrath. who, with
lis white, frantic tlce dabbled with
,lood, requires six men to hold him.
Matt is immensely strong, besides be-,
ng desperate, and sturdy as the six
Soyal Irish cOnstables were, it really
ooked as If their prisoner would sue
eed in tearing himself from their
rrasp. After struggle, he was
brown or tripped over on his back
light on ladder which lay at my feet,
nd there at last they succeeded in
orcing his brawny wrists into hand
uffs. The doctor then came up and
ressed the wound on Matt's head.
here was only one wound, and that
" no means serious one. The
thing was that in spite Of
is desperate resistance Matt escaped
nth such little hurt.-London Daily
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