The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1918-06-11
The Widows
Choice
o0
RyIV. z. HELDEN
Hy.Lv. z. HELDEN
Copyright BIZ The Frank A. Mnnsax Co

svduCu INC Altlc kuOtS VI IueH ut the
street corners. There was a rumor
abroad that for the first time in twelve
years the Thirteenth ward would go
Democratic, and it was the night be-
fore election.
Strange men had been seen for
more than a week buttonholing the
leaders, and it was well-known fact
that it had been the strong person
atty of 'the Old Man." as he was af-
fectionately called, that had held the
ward for the Republicans. When he
absolutely refused a denomination for
congress, and Barney MuIcahey's
name was put up, there were signs
of change Of party.
The first caller at the Widow
Flynn's saloon that night was Pat
Murphy. AS he sidled up to the bar
the temptation was too great. He
kissed the widow on the cheek. The
widow bridled up and soundly boxed
his ear.
Take that" she cried, "for an i'm
pident rascal, and Mike not a year
dead!"
Sure now, Peggy" he protested,
you know I'm only waiting for de-
cency's sake, or I'd asked you at the
funeral. I've waited now ten years,
and it's long time. Mike was
friend of mine, but / always be-
grudged him wan thing, and you know
what that was"
"Hush your nonsense" she said. 81
have work to do this night, and no
time for foolin'."
IT'S no foolin' to me-" he NUT
tered.
They tell me-" continued the
widow. that the Thirteenths goin'
Dimmycratic. That's a foine way Of
standin' by the Old Man, don't
think. What do they know Of the
Dimmycratf l know him. lived in
his family as second gurrl for two
years. There's where you see a man,
and, Pat Murphy, if he riprisinted the
party Of the ould sultan himself I
wouldn't vote for him. Now, listen
to me, do you work this night for
Barney Mulchahey for mimber Of
congress, and if he carries the ward
Republican, maybe-now, mind you,
say maybe-Tll listen to your nom
sense. None o. that, now"-as he
leaned towards her. "And another
thing-I may keep a saloon, but if
you touch drop Of whisky don't
come near me, dye hear? 1 name it."
The city hall bell struck one, there
was a clatter In the engine house near
by, and at the stroke Of eight, as the
horses settled themselves back In
their stalls, the crowd began to move
towards the widows saloon. For she
was pretty and popular, and all Of
Mikes old friends felt certain re-
sp0nsibility when he was taken so
suddenly that hot July day.
Old Pat Reddy was speaking as
they came in. Its time we changed,
byes. We'd have voted for the Old
Man as long as he'd run. Where'd
our pinsions been If he hadn't looked
out for thin? But now he's out we'd
better go back to the old party"
"Yes," called the widow; '1t's
pity the Old Man ever let go his holt
on ye." She drew glass after glass
of beer and wiped off the counter with
fresh towel. mo one Of you hen
could fool him-he read you every
time; but let woman go to him with
the words hunger and cold In her
mouth, and his hand was in his pocket
and a half a ton of coal in her hall
VrhfIn OIL ~ r1y~
ing her name, and showing her the
way Of the 'Sassiety.' I suppose your
fine new Dimmycrat, Mr.. Monroe, will
look after us all, too. Well, let me
tell you, you'll get left. 1 know him
well, and whin he goes to Washin'ton
he goes for the Honorable Peter Mon
roe. Oh, it's lucky you have your PIN
sions, for it nd be singin' We would
be for thin If you dipinded upon him.
tell you, you'd better pin your faith
to Barney Mulcahey, and I'd like to
cast eyes on the jay what's tried to
queer him in the ward. All, ha, /
thought So" she said, as well-dressed
young Irishman quietly slid out Of the
door.
"Pat Murphy" she called. Follow
that fool Flanagan, and don't let him
out O. your sight the night. If he be-
gins to talk Monroe muzzle him."
Murphy looked longingly at the
flushed face of the widow, and whis-
pered over the bar: did you name
what you said the now?" :,
"Try me and see," she laughed.
"They say" growled the Widows
cousin, that Mulcahey's not a good
Christian" He looked around at his
audience and softly fingered a bill in
his pocket the like of which he hadn't
seen in many a day.
"You don't sayl" cried the widow.
"Much you know about it. Was it
your intintion to run him for bishop
What is a good Christianr She
leaned over the bar and the men fell
silent.
Nov, TIL tell you some things
about Mulcahey that you don't know.
How nanny Of you would have been
good Christians If you'd been raised in
Poverty Hollow, with no church near
or than the city, and you that poor
that you were never sure at night that
you'd eat In the mornin'q That's
where Barney was born, and his moth
er reared him on the dashboard.
From the time he could walk he
worked, If there was anything kid
could do. Then be went to school.
when he could be covered enough to
be dacent, and he worked until he
worked his way through college, and
him-an Irishman like ourselves
Twin on nothing week so that he
could be dedicated and be fit to hold
high places You talk about his being
poor Christianp Well, he's good
enough for the bishop, who's blessed
every room IN Mr.. Mulcahey's new
house. 1 hope you'll feel better, Tim
for KNOWN that when you want
him to get you on the foorce"
There was a laugh, and Tim sat
down by the stove.
but, Dyes, want We, Dimmycrat
or Republican, to vote for Barney
Mulcahey, the man. Now listen, I'm
going to tell We something that hoped
would lie buried in my heart, and
ask you not to mintion it among your
selves, for it's hard to speak of. Mr..
Reddy, you remember what foine
man my father was in years gone?
Well, they turned him out from Mon
roe's mill. Your choice for mimber
said he stole. Think of that, byes, a
Moriarty of Limerick theft OF
course it was all lie, and they found
the right man, but they never righted
it with my father, and he took to drink.
They broke his heart.