The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1915-03-25
Peg O. My Heart
Continued from Page One.

kinSSnorth could make his youngest
daughter dependent ON you"
MY father knew l would respect bis
wishes
He was equally responsible for me-
yet he leaves me to your care-a Kings
north. The men masters and the WON.
en- slaves: That is the kingsnorth
doctrine"
A servant came in to tell Angela the
doctor had come. Without word An,
gela went out to see to the wounded
man. The servant followed her.
Let alone. Nathaniel sat down. shock.
ed and stunned. to review the inter.
view he had just had with his young.
er sister.
When Angela entered the sickroom
she found DR.. McGinnis. a CHEEKY,
bright eyed. rotund little man of fifty,
talking freely to the patient and pune
tuating each speech with hearty
laugh. His good humor was infec-
tiOuS.
The wounded agitator felt the effect
of it and was trying to laugh feebly
himself.
Sure it's the fine target ye must
have made with yer six feet and one
inch. How could the poor soldiers
help hittin' ye? Answer me THAR
And the jovial doctor laughed again
as he dexterously wound a bandage
around O'Conncl's arm.
'Aisy now while tie the bandage,
me fine fellow Yell live to see the
inside of in English Jail yet"
He turned as he heard the door open
and greeted Angela.
Good afternoon to We. Miss Kings
north. Faith. it's blessin' We brought
the hoy here. There's no tellin' what
the prison surgeon would have done
to him. 1t is saltpeter. they tell ME,
the English doctors rub into the Irish
wounds to kape them smartin'. And
by the like token. they do the same,
too. in the English house of commons.
Saltpeter in Irelands wounds is what
they give u.s."
rs he much hurt?" asked Angela.
well. they've broken nothin'. Just
blackened his face and made few
holes in his skin. It's buckshot they
used Buckshot! Thank the mercifnl
Mr.. Foster for that same. 'Buckshot
Foster as the Irish reverently Call
him."
"What dastardly thing to dor! she
cried.
I've may we'll say that. Miss Kings
north" said the merry little doctor
But it's betther than bullet from Il
Martini Henry rifle, that's what it is
And there's many poor English land
lords got one of EN- in the back fol
ridin' about at night on his own land
It's fatllerly government we have
Miss Kingsnorth. Hurt EN-. but don,
quite kill EN- seq they. and then put
EN- in Jail and feed them Oh bread
and wathcr. That'll take the fine talk
in and patriotism out of them seq
they
They'll never take it out of me
They may kill me perhaps. but until
they do they'll never silence me-" muir
INJURED O'Connell in a voice so low. YET
so bitter. that it startled Angela.
''Yeli do that all in good time. me
fine boy" said the busy little doctor
Here. take pull at this and he
handed the patient a glass i'll which he
had dropped a few crystals into some
water
DR.. McGinnis said in whisper 10
Angela:
Let him have that every three
hours: oftener if be wants to talk
We've got to get his mind at rest"
There's no danger?" asked Angela
in the same tone
None in the wurrld He's got u
fine constitution, and mebbe the Durk
shot WAS pretty clean I've washed
them out we'll"
ITO think Of men shot down like
dogs for speaking of their country
It's horrible. It's wicked. It's mon.
strous.''
Faith. the English don't know what
else to do with them. miss It's no use
arguin' with the like of him That
man lyin on that bed nd talk the
hind foot off n heifer The only way
to kape the likes of him quiet is to
shoot him. and begob they have"
Il heard you, doctor" came from the
bed. IF they'd killed me today there
would be il thousand voices rise all
over Ireland to take the place of mine -
Faith. Id rather kape me own life
than to have hundred thousand
slnkin' for me and me dead Is it
long yer stayin' here?' and the little
man picked up his hat
Il don't know" said Angela.
swell. it's you they'll miss when
we're gone. Miss Kinssnorth. Faith.
if all the English were like you this
sort of thing couldn't happen"
I'VE don't try to understand the
people. doctor. We just govern them
blindly and ignorantly."
Path. it's small blame to the Eng
fish. We're Il mighty hard race to
make head or tail of. and that's a
fact-cryin' salt tears at the bedside Of
q sick child and lawn to shoot poor
man in the ribs for DARN to ask for
his rint"
They're not Irishmen" came from
the sickbed
Faith. aud they are. now. And it's
small wondher the men who sit in
Whitehall in London trate them like
savages." .-.-.-s ...--.-
I've seen things since I've been
here that would justify almost any
thing: cried Angela I've seen SUI
fcring no one in England dreamed Of.
misery that London. with all it's pow
erty and wretchedness. could not CON-
pare with, We're I born in Irej,pd