The record-union., 1897-08-12

It's a great comfort to have sympa-
thetic neighbors," 1 said hastily.
1T is that same. Why, there's not
night they're sayin' their bades but they
do be rememberin' me an Pathrick. The
kindness of them is past teliin' Why,
it's them that fills the basket for me
every month, though, God knows,
they've often more mouths than they
can fill. Did you notice the brown
eyed woman with the red shawl an
the shiny lookin' hair?'
I had noticed her 1t was she who
had given the injunction about the eggs.
We'll, then, ma'am It's she has the
rale trouble all out. The little child
her-she's the mother of eight, ma am
is always dyin' on her of a softness Of
the bones. They do grow bright an
sharp little childher till they raches
the age of ) or 6. Then they seems to
melt all away; the little bonss of them
crumbles like a bit of bread between
your fingers. Now, isn't it a hard lot,
ma am to see the little vans that ought
by right to be bright an hearty dyin
on your hands like that?"
She spoke as If her own trouble was
only a light one by comparison She
shook her little old white head and went
on:
There was little girl, too, stood by
and said nothin' at all at all. Maybe
you was afther takin' note of her-lit-
tie Susy Connolly, a brown haired lit
tie girl wild a pale face and red lips.
She's alone in the world, an the villain
she set her heart on left her for a girl
wild two COWS to her fortune. Now
there's a trouble to be givin' away
everything you had to give an gettin'
nothin' at all in return. Isn't that rale
trouble?"
1 agreed that it was. The little old
woman was quite cheerful again,
though her eyes and gestures were dra-
matte as she told Susy's sad love
story.
Myself, 1 do be often wonderin'," she
went on, the kindness of the people.
I'm not lost nor lonely among them,
though I've nayther chick nor child to
close my eyes when L go. Sure, the
goodness Of God is wonderful an L
do often be wonderin' over it why He
should be so good to an old sinner like
me. It's surprisin' how cheerful I go
home of an evenin when the sun is get
tin low an the dews is layin the dust
in the white roads. 1 do, be istenin' to
the birds singin', and smellin the sweet
grass an flowers, an l know whin l
get home there'n be a bit O. fire in the
CRATE an a cup O. tea brewin'. Then
the childher comes to meet me a long
way off. store an orange or an apple
or a bit O. brown rock sugar stick in
the basket for them, the rogues."
RV7d na world cnn6 n
alp"
Good, acushla? Good isn't the name
for it. But would you be surprised
after all to hear that Pm thinkin' Of
lawn them kind neighbors? Aye, I'm
longin for the time to come! Maybe
you think me a black hearted, migrate
full old woman?"
Her little brown face, finely wrinkled,
wore a mysterious air.
Il am sure you are not ungrateful," :"
1 said
NO then I'm not, acushla. Twill be
crackin' my heartstrings to lave the
little house where Pathrick brought me
home an where the childher died. Let
alone the kindly faces an the obligin'
/ little childher an the dogs that are
! such friendly poor bastes."
Then, why will you go?"
Because, listen, dear; God has put it
in my heart that at the last Pathrick's s
mind'n come back to him just burnin'
i up like a candle before it goes out an
I'll see the sowl in his eyes an he'll
! know me, aye, an love me, just once
before he goes. But, sure, 'twould
never do for me to be SO far away
when the change might come any mint
So I'm goin' to take little job for the
doctors wife, to mind her bits o. hins
an ducks Thin I'll be within CALL
, But here's the station, dear, an God
j bless you. Surely God is very good,
oh very, very good!'-Pan Mall Ca
Zaffp