The Irish standard., 1915-10-30

Twas when the black smallpO,
swept over the islands from the main
land he died, and not long after m,
father was lost in the great gale tina
destroyed all before it on the ives
coast that was. In from the western
ocean came the wild wind, and my ia
Their that was out in his fine, stou
yawl ran before it for shelter. Blu
the men that we're out in their poo
little curraghs, they couldn't run with
out smothering before it, so hi
stopped to take them with him.
And, taking the last of them, his
yawl was borne by a sea to the sky
and roaring of wind that dashed
back the wild gulls themselves before
ever their beating wings could take
them from out of their nests in the
side of the cliff. And my mother and
my one brother and myself, we stood
together atop of that same cliff and
watched the great wave when it rolled
in, and when it rolled back thought
my mother would go with it, she with
her hands stretched out over the edge
of the cliff, looking down while the
yawl and all were in it were dashed
to pieces on the cruel rocks below.
Mother, mother" l said, taking
hold of her hand, don't let you be
going, tool"
God in heaven" says my mother
''but it's the cruel blow! o my Jim
mic, my little Jimmie, it's only you
is left me now!" 'Twasn't of me she
thought at all that day, as why should
she?-me with my own husband and
my own cabin and my own baby at
the time to my breast.
No fine, stout yawl of his fathers
had Jimmie then, to be making liv-
ing for his mother. Hard work it
was, but 'twasn't him would let on
that 'twasn't a Joy to be pulling and
hauling through all the day long and
sometimes half the night again all by
himself in his little boat.
A straight, slim, hardy, grown boy
was Jimmie then, the spit of his ia.
Their. Jimmie, my little lad, have a
care O. yourself now" my mother
would say, 'for let you go and they
might as we'll be laying me down in
the grave along with you."
Mother astore," Jimmie would say,
"sure after taking father from you,
and him for no fault of his own. 'tisn't
God would be taking me, too"
Whistling he would go and whis-
Ting he would return. To cheer her
up that was, for by nature his ways
were his fathers ways, and twas his
fathers way to be quiet and thinking
like always, unless 'twould be at a
christening or a wedding, when the
holy Pope himself would be expected
to smile.
And never a time that Jimmie
passed out the door but she would
be looking after him and his curragh
from the little cove till it was gone
from sight in the big bay; and if while
he was gone the gale would rise, not
a moan of it but would stir a moan
of her own. God forgive me for a
weak woman" she would say then,
''but tits like the hand O. death it.
self is making a harp of my heart.
strings!"
And then the black smallpox was
speaking of came, and first one and
then another it took, and then by twos
and threes they went. And the crown
doctor came out in his boat from the
mainland and set up a pesthouse on
the side of hill. And it was winter.
time, with the cold snow to the height
of a mans knee.
"'Tis ito no pest-house they would
take one O mine," said my mother;
and twas to no pest-house they car
ried Jimmie when he was taken down
With the door barred against the doc
tors, crown or no crown, we nursed
him, my mother by night and myself
by day and little Gerald not weaned
of my breast at the time.
And twas terrible to see my mother
then. Down on her two knees she
would go in prayer for him then, II
it wasn't making the broth or wipine
the face of him she was at the mo
ment, and the tears coming slow and
heavy from her eyes she'd say: &C
God that loves us all, spare my little
lad to me! Or, if you must take him
take me along with him." And Jim
mic would lie there, the poor black
ened face of him looking into his
mothers, and he'd say: I'm striving
mother-God knows I'm striving MOI
to be leaving you!"
And I saw how it would be with my
mother If Jimmie died. And there wal
q holy we'll in the island named afte1
Saint Ann, who was great saint II
those parts, and my own name wal
Ann. And with never q word to m!
mother of what I had in mind, wen
to where by the high road was tn
holy we'll, with great cross made o
cement and smooth, round little Sci
stones above it. And beside tina
cross l knelt to Saint Ann, that m,