The Irish standard., 1894-06-23
THE IRISH sTANDARp: s4TU RDA = .lJUNE q,

heavy rains and fallen leaves; and how
they come to the broad road that leads
70 the little church that looks gray and.
sombre, though It's long, narrow windows
are all lit up. There Is an almost i'm
perceptible pause as each group passes
the low, comfortable, matched cottage,
with it's little garden in front, where 9
few late roses and dRhhas and holyhocks
still bloom, for there the curate resides,
and you can hear, Were in time after
all, thank goodness" as they notice that
the lamp is burning brightly in the
priests sitting room. They have learned
from observation in this, az in many pre-
vious Octobers, that "his reverence
turns down his lamp till it only sheds a
faint glimmer ere he leaves his domicile,
and there is slight Stacking of the pace
that has kept up for the remainder OF
the way.
'sThe bell rang just as we we're putting
the last sod on the potato pit" young
fellow remarks, wiping his brow, "Well
this is my tenth visit anyhow
"Youll need to make two or three ex-
ira" some one rejoins, "since you were
late more that once, Ned"
"That's sure, but set out with good
intention, and that's everything Ned
makes answer, and so they move on past
the churchyard, where cypress and weep
ing willow cast fanciful shadows on the
grave mounds, and where the last shiv-
ering leaves on the aspens culver. The
headstones and crosses have ghostly
look, and the little river that runs close
by seems to be chanting requiem for
the dead that lie so near. Many prayers
and petitions will be offered up for the
fathers and mothers, husbands and
wives aud friends that sleep here in these
last days of October.
There is something touching yet not
dismal, in those old graveyards in Ire.
land, with their lines of ancient elms and
slender aspens, where the rocks gather
at eve. There are very few exten sive
monuments or columns of marble raised
above the dead, but plain gray stones
moss grown and ivied, boar not one OF
two names, but those, maybe, of husband
and wife and their children and chill
dren'e children. There are rose bushes
without number planted at namelesE
graves, where white lilies, too, and Glove
pinks bloom in the summer days, sn6
graves where the grass grows rank anl
tall, and where mourner seldom kneels
Are they waiting, those forgotten ones,
wonder, for All Souls day, when they
too, will be remembered by that might,
mother who forgets not her childreni
needs?
Up the church steps the people throng
and passing to the little chapel,
church among the northern Irish gener
ally means the building where the Epis
copalians pray7ond wa can sec the con
gregation plainly. The men have COM
in their everyday fustians, and tn
women and girls wear no headgear in TIL
shape of hats. and bonnets. They ar
wrapped in shawls, and not few of tn
elder women wear the heavy blue. cloak
that were so fashionable in the days G
our grandmothers. They are not an ele
gantly -attired congregation, sure enough
but there can be no question as to thei
devotion. You can judge that by tn
murmur of voices rising and falling q
they make the responses when the prizes
recites the rosary or itany, and whe
benediction is given one recalls Aubre
De Vere's beautiful lines:
"The low wave yearns along the coast
| With sob suppressed like that which thrills
When DER the altar mounts the Host,
! Some chapel mid the Irish hills"
But now the Angelus is said, and tn
people slowly dispense. The moon ha
mounted higher, and the sky is of
deeper blue, with clouds scattered owe
it that looks like "carded WOOL" Neigh
bors wait on each other and the wal
home is by no means unpleasant fo
those hardy country people know pas
and dell. There are hundred and on
beautiful things to observe from tn
moon, "like spirit glorifed," to tn
half-naked trees outlined against tn
sky, and the cleaning drouc that clin
to the thorn; an innocent jest and merr
laugh ring out as the people pass home
ward from "the rosary