The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1919-03-31

rhen Ae could be covered enough ID
he dacent, and he worked until be
worked his way through college, and
him-an Irishman like ourselves
Twin on nothing week 30 that he
could be dedicated and be at to hold
high places. You talk about his being
a poor Christian! Well, he's good
enough for the bishop. who's blessed
every room in Mr.. Mulcahey's new
house. hope you'll feel better, Tim
for KNOWN that when you want
him to get you on the foorceI'
There was a laugh, and Tim sat
down BY the stove.
"But byes. / want ye. Dimmycrat
or Republican, to vote for Barney
Mulcahey. the man. Now listen, I'm
going to tell ye something that I 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 q foine
man my father was In years Comet
Well. they turned him out from Mon
roe's mill. Your choice for mimber
said he stole. Think Of that, byes, q
Moriarty Of Limerick . theft OF
course 1t was all q lie, and they found
the right man, but they never righted
it with my father, and he took to drink.
They broke his heart.
I'VE we're poor after that almost
too poor to eat, and always too proud
to BEG, so those years like to forget
One night I woke up, and I heard q
man In the next room saying to my
father, Mr.. Moriarty, Irishmen should
stand by each other. I have been
looking for you, and I want you to be
janitor In the Neenagh block Not q
word did he say about his discharge
from Monroe. But 1t was too late,
and my father died. and today, in
stead Of lying in Potters field. he is
in St. Joseph's, with a stone at his
head. Barney Mulcahey was a true
friend, ! tell We. and he looked for
nothing in return. Byes, don't be jeal-
Gus OF his wealth; he deserves every
bit of 1t, but take his own words,
Irfshmen should stand by each 9th.
err Good night. The shutters are
going up"
1t was presidential year, but on
election night the interest in the Thir-
teenth ward was centered on the MEM
Der OF congress. and the saloon of the
Widow Flynn was crowded early in
the evening. No private wire ran into
the room, but messengers from the
polls were constant and talkative.
The widow was Enthusiastically nervous,
and let many a glass foam over on
the tidy bar.
How Is 1t going?" she demanded
Of old Reddy as he came in.
u dunno, I dunno" he said. II
done all can. ! heard a Monroe man
say somebody's been tamperin' with
this ward since yesterday noon. II
the ward goes Republican it's you
that's done it. wildly"
"Where's PATTI" asked some one.
"How should known retorted the
widow consciously. II haven't seen
him since last night"
swell, have. thin" answered Tim
with a chuckle. AT five o'clock this
mornin' he had his mothers mar
hitched to a Dimmycrat wagon, and
he was draggin' oil the old dubs in
the ward to the polls"
And the widow laughed.
The clock struck eleven, then twelve,
and still the shutters were open. and
no certain word had come from the
polls. The fire bells rang out and the
engine tore down the street, but to-
night 1t made no difference to the
waiting crowd. The clock struck one.
Outside there was a wild "hurrah,"
and Pat Murphy sprang into the room,
waving his hat.
"Hoorayl" he cried. "Hoorayi The
Thirteenth went solid for Mulcahey |"
Great circles were under his eyes,
for he had forgotten to eat that day,
and he could scarcely stand for weari.
ness.
pat" called the widow, "come
here"
Murphy walked over to the bar, and
In the face and eyes of the crowd the