The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1892-07-30
COPYRIGHT 1874 81 N77ke1oes Q1wsneleco
CHAPTER VII.


walked down the old lane where I had
romped so often in childhood the red
clover fields were abloom on either
hand Yet saw nothing of this, and
was scarcely cognizant Of the fact that
the sun shone Nature might have been
In her happiest mood, and am inclined
to think she was, and I would not have
noted it. had no eyes for anything
about me, no thoughts for anything
save myself and the scene through
which had just passed.
It was relief to know that the old
life of suffering was at an end, yet the
knowledge brought a feeling Of sadness
to nv heart The old home was dear
to me, though the memories connected
with it were anything but endearing.
and, in spite of al l had endured there, my
soul chung to the old place with a strange,
unaccountable fondness. Then, too,
the thought of leaving my father, never,
perhaps, to see him again; the thought
Of parting from him as l had-to carry
In my mind through all the years OF ny
life remembrance of him as saw him
last, cruel, stern, angry and forbidding;
to bear in my memory, always, his
picture as I saw him that morning,
standing erect in the middle of the
room, his eyes sparkling with anger,
his face dark and frowning, his voice
cold and hard, and his hand pointing to
the door through which he had sternly
hidden me pass never to return; the
remembrance stirred my soul to it's
depths, and the anger that had filed
ME and sustained me died out, giving
place to feeling Of wretchedness that
Frustrated me completely.
! could not go on then, and sinking
down by the wayside burst into tears.
Never before had realized how dearly
loved my father, and never had so
keenly felt the pangs his cruelties and
neglect inflicted upon me. All the pain
he had caused me from childhood up
rushed into my soul in that one mo-
xnent. endured again all the hard
blows he had given me. Yet, I loved
him and grieved because OF our sepa-
ration.
r. As sat by the roadside with my face
covered by my hands, heard some one
approaching, and looking up I saw
Aunt Mary. Her eyes were damp and
I knew she had been weeping, too. She
die not speak, and l think her heart
was too full to admit Of it, but she
came and sat down by me and put her
arms around me and drew me to her,
and held me SO for a long time. Her
sympathy so delicately expressed had
wonderfully soothing effect upon me,
and by degrees grew calm.
"Aunt Mary" at last ventured to
remark, mo matter what happens, or
who turns from me, you love me-
'sYes, chile, done tole yo' dat. SIGH
lub an sympathy as q no count ole Mig
gah has got to glib yo's gwlne to git,
sho' an sartin. Yo iis bar dat in min,
now; an don't yo' neber go an forgit
it. No mattah wher yo' is, honey, ner
how fer in de future de time is, if de
day eber comes when yo' feels de need
oh me yo' lis let me know, an I'll come
to yo' if ! has to take my foot in my
han an walk a thousan' miles to git
dar. OATS jis' 'zaclSl,y what I'll do,
chile, ii rs got der bref oh life in my
no ole body Yo' jis' member dat now,
an don yo' fergit to let me know If yo'
needs me-
"I'll never forget you, Aunt Mary l
replied land Ill never forget how
good and kind you're been to me; and if
ever need friend I'll remem Der that
I've got one in you"
II warrant you'll do all dat, honey"
she observed, ''but yo' amt done said
dat yo'll send for me if yo' needs me-"
II will say it, Them said I. IF I
should get sick, and likely to not get
we'll, III send for you, Aunt Mary, be-
cause then I'd want some one near who
could call for"
Aunt Mary made no answer. but
heard her murmur the words:
s'Po' chile, po' chiles' ...
There was long pause, after which
continued:
81 don't know where shall 60, Aunt
Mary, nor where l shall find Stopping
place. know nobody and know moth
ing of the world, and I have no idea
where shall find home or friends.
But suppose ] shall find them some
where, or at least suppose I shall
manage in some way to live
Eyes, honey, l reckon So" Aunt
Mary replied, ''but rs 'feerd you'll fin
de worl' monty col an unfeelin'. Dem
as goes out frien'less giner'ly habs a
hard row to hoe. >Marse Daniel amt
got de feelin' for yo' what ladder
ought to hab, s'pecls, yit dunno if
he won't be sorry fore tomorrow for
what he done said dis mornin', an meb-
by if yo' wuz to stop somewhere nigh
bout he'd let 20 come back home fore
many days.
..No, Aunt Mary said |, The told me
to 90 and never return, and never
shall Iregret to go, and if he had not
driven me away would have remained
and borne patiently with the cruelties
! OF my life, but now shall never re-
turn"
.sBut de worl', chile, am monty cold
TO de frien'less, g the old servant urged.
S S3s 81 know that, i replied; ''bnt at the
4 most it can do no more than allow me
3#4A ~ az NJ ho1 aa we'll ha dead aS to