The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1890-07-27

tue result Is FEWER anu poorer c4OlHrs
for lack of really money To
buy the cheapest products OF the
mschiues-and dYeing in q few darz
and simple colors as BELTS Irelard's social
atmosphere. Perhaps the colleen is trans
ferred to the kitchen of some farmers wife,
where she washes the plates tia have eacl
shamrock leaf in its middle. aad Is
undly cutfed when she lets one fall from
her awkward hands. The pig feeling is
her charge, and the nursing of the frost
bitten lambs, and the spreading Of the
linen on the hedges, ID again she Is catfed
II the crows OF the sparrOwS come down
and soil the snowy whiteness of toe cloths.
Her days are full enough Of work, for the
farmers wife feels the pinch of the times IN
spite OF the generous reductions frequently
m de by the goot landlord through the
kin / agents. t. quote from tie advertise
ment of a recent lsasehold sale, and puts Oh
herself and one peasant girl, perhaps, tie
tasks that formerly occupied two or three.
There are potatoes to boil and cabbage and
bacon, and pans to scOur, and eggs IN hu@t,
and chickens to feed, and cows to milk and
through the summer the farmer will expect
her t. work in the fields, wedding potatoes
by HAND on her knee, instead OF with hoe.
If she is exceptionally trustworthy and
be is busy with the haying, he will send her
TO market. and then you Will SEQ her driv-
ing small and rOugh-coated donkey, meek
looking and miserable. The donkey Is
fastened to a small and dingy two-wneeled
cart, and in the cart, on a sack of potatoes
it has no seat-or on top of a box at holds
a squealing pig, sits Maggie; and anon she
calls, Och murtheri was there i've rSich
haste! Git along wild vel Arra1, look at
ye, Micky; l ask ye now an tell me, do ye
know it's foive miles from home ye be"
And then there rises a snatch Of g ballad,
for Maggie, in spite of all, is light-hearted,
and Mickey manages ploddlng sort Of
trot, and the queer little outfit joys by with
a squeal and smile.
If Maggie has a managing mother, many
a basket Of new laid eggs-for lack of
which the little gossoons and colleens may
go hungry-wil find its way nicely covered
with green leaves 10 the housekeeper of the
''big house." in return for which and for
many smiles and suave batteries it may be
that In time that powerful parsonage will
speak good word for little Maggie, and the
underling of the farmers wife will find her.
self promoted from the farmstead to the
mansion of the landlord-if be be not under
a boycott-there to be scullery maid, with
further promotions if she proves an apt
scholar through all the grades of under and
upper housemaid and whlte-capped parlor
maid. perhaps in time even to be house
keeper and hold whole retinue under her
IN awe.
To serve the Protestant landlord is in
many districts a forbidden choice to the
peasant girl, and, indeed, owing to the
growing poverty OF the landlord classes, the
trains of servants are every year cut
shorter; so that the rosy colleen bawn,
turned II, may one day find herself, with
all the fortune her mother could bestow on
her tied up in big coIored neckerchief, on
the forward deck of a steamer blowing it's
way out of Queenstown, TO lie down in her
crdmped berth in the ships bowels by night
and sit on a coil of rope straining her eyes
toward the horizon by day, until she threads
the streets of new city. to put on
awkwardness with her cheap new
tinery as she puts off the smell of
the peat bogs with her homespun pet
tcoats, to try the patience of the Ameri-
can housewife with her s:rangeness and her
ignorance, to send home money to take care
of the old father and the mot1er and bring
over all the rest Of Q wild little gossoons
and coll sens. to lose the freshness of her
color in a different climate aud under a
tighter roof, and to sail back again maybe
In nall dozen years, this time in the
second cabin" TO air her silk dress and her
jet trimmed wrap and her glittering rhine
stone jewels before her some time play
mates, TO see her old home aud let her new
prosperity be fairly understood before for
the second time eshe turns her face reso-
lutely westward to marry and bring up her
children not as peasants but as Americans.
The peasant glrl who doesn't emigrate
marries young Her husband is a peasant
lad, and he takes her to cabin that is pic
turesque enough outside, comfortless enough
within. 1t stands in a green hollow, in the
open or under group of trees. 1t is built
Of rough stones, whitewashed, with a roof
of thatch in which great splendid crimson
peoples are blooming, Frightening all the
landscape around and giving an oddly fes-
tive cir to the premises. There is one low
door in the side nearest the road and one
small window, perhaps a mere chink in the
stones. The door admits to the single room,
which has no flooring but the feet of many
little folks will soon trample the earth bot
tom hard aud smooth. The stone walls
within are whitewashe1 just as on the out
side, or they are left black without any fin
ishing. Opposite the door Maggie arranges
her table with shelf or two above it, on
which she always keeps crock of flowers
blooming. Here stand her CUPS and saucers
and her few household furnishings
On one side of the table is her handloom,
if she has one, and on the other her rude
bed, square and low and not abundantly
provided with covering. At one end of
the hut is a fireplace, and the smell of the
peats is heavy in the air. There is wooden
chair, maybe two, and now a pig, now
baby under foot. and Maggie says the times
are hard, but she blooms.
ELIZA PUTNAM HEATON.