The Cook County herald. [volume] (Grand Marais, Minn.) 1893-1909, 1896-06-27
A LIMP TOR IIBERTY.
BY Gerald Brenan.


'.Baccagh,' 2 hey called him which
is Irish for ssclubfoot.'' He had been
born lame; and though the good people;
of old Ireland are kindly to those in
afliction, but little sunshine had en-
tered into the life of little Pierus
Moore E>- .sss3
How sad it must have been for Pie.
rus Moore -Pierus "club-f foot who
could never. hope to share their daring:
sports or win name for himself in
the simple annals of his mountain
Kin, ~ & ! Fl. sS
@ S&
Harder still-Pierus' father had been:
IN his day the acknowledged cham.
Spion of the villas age-indeed, of the
whole countryside. No one could hurlS
a weight, leap a fence, run, ride or
Wrestle with Lysaght Moore. But now
that Lysaght was growing old, his
hair gray and his joints stiff. the lead
ership in sport had passed into young
er hands. 1t was a sore reflection for
The old champion that he could never
1and down his hardwon honors to
this crippled only son of his--this.
poor, puny Pierus q 'Baccagh."# Old
Lysaght did not mean to be cruel, or
marsh to his child, but in spite of him.
self and his natural affection for the
;ad, he could not help at times showing
Pierus the deep disappointment which
che lameness caused. Then the boy
would crawl out to the corn-rack, be-.
hind the little cottage and aSSuage his
bitter grief in tears and silent lamen-
tatiOnS. "a ~ - Z q
Here one night Connell Canavan the
StalWart yeoman Of Glenbracken,
found him with tear-stained face bur
led in, the straw, and pityingly asked
the cause of so much sorrow. Sob-
bingly EPierus Moore confessed his
many woes. "Never a thing" he, said,
"can do for the parish. I'm asshelp-
less as a broken-winged grouse.''
"You're young yet" said big Con
nell, soothingly. Time enough to
talk of that later on II.
"Youngw moaned Pierus "Baccag gh."
Sure there's many younger than me,
that's doin' fine things already. Shae-
mus Roman can beat any boy in the
barony at long jumps or foot race.
Larry Ryan is as good q shot las a
grown man; an Maurice Moore my
own cousin, caught six trout last Fri
lay afternoon. Young! I'm old enough,
barrin' for the bad foot, Connell''
Connen Canavan sighed sympathet-
ically. He knew full well that, the boy
only spoke truth. + >gs eS Z.
9Pierus sense of his own uselessness
was redoubled when the rebellion
broke out. The men, and ONE of. the
older boys, even, WenCoT rU-ngnt for
their native land, but fhe poor club
footed fellow could only stay behind
with the women, the girls and thezold
men. One afternoon he was sitting
1T a cottage door lost in a sad revery,
when roar as if Of distant thunder
broke upon his ear, followed by an
other, and yet another He rose and,
went to the window. The day was
cool and clear-therc were no signs of
= thunder storm apparent. What could
The booming noise pOrtend?
Not long was Pierus left in ignor-
ance. A series Of shrieks from the
street caused him to open the half door
and hObble forth. The women were
nuddled together near the church yard
gate, gazing up the hillside to- where
the Barrow road curved into sight
from behind a wood of larches. Shad-
ing his eyes, Pierus looked in the
same direction, and, to his horror and
CONSERVATION, saw the men Of Conner
,etreating toward the village, many
Of them staggering under the weight
of slain or wounded comrades. Then
the significance of the thunderous
sounds heard not long before was
borne upon him. They were the
voices Of the English cannon.
The Irish insurgents scattered from
the village in all directions, but formed
again beyond it evidently according
TO a settled plan. Towards nightfall
.he~approach of the English was her
ilded. The English artillery came
numbering over the hilltop, aud the
guns were planted along the heathery
slope commanding the village. But no
firing was done that night, as dark
ness set in rapidly; and soon the