The Monroe journal., 1919-01-03


worked his way through college. an,
hlm-an lrishman like ourselves
livin' on nothing a week 50 that h,
could be dedicated and be iii 10 hOlC
high places. You talk about his bein.
a poor Christian Well. he's good
enough for the bishop. who's blesSeC
every room in Mr.. Mulcahey's new
house. | hope you'n feel better. Tin
for KNOWN that when you wan
him to ger you On the foorce!'
There was a laugh. and Tim sai
down by the stove.
But. byes. l want ye. Dimmycrai
or Republican. 10 vote for Barne,
Mulcahey, the man. Now listen. In
going to tell We something that hoped
would lie buried in my heart. and
ask you not To mintion ii among your
selves, for it's hard TO speak of. Mr.
Reddy, you remember what foint
man my father Was in years gonei
Well, they turned him out from Mon,
roe's mill. Your choice for mimbeI
said he stole. Think of that, byes, q
Moriarty of Limerick a thief. OF
course it was ali Il lie. and they found
the righi man. but they never righted
il with Ely father, and he took TO drink.
They brohe his heart.
I'VE were poor after that, almost
too poor To eat, and always too proud
TO beg, 50 those years l like TO forget
one night | woke up. and | heard a
man in the next room saying 80 my
father, MIR. Moriarty, lrishmen should
stand by each other. l have been
looking for YOU, and | want you to be
janitor in the Neenagh block Not q
word did he say about his discharge
from Monroe. But it was too late,
and my father died. and today, in.
stead OF lying in ro,ter's field, he is
in st. Joseph's, with stone at his
head. Barney Mulcahey was a trud
friend, l tell ye, and he looked for
nothing in return. Byes, don't be jeal.
Gus of his wealth, he deserves every
bit Of it, but take his own words,
Irishmen should stand by each 9th.
err Good night The shutters are
going up"
Ii was presidential year, but on
election night the interest in the Thir.
teenth ward was centered on the mem.
ber 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 glass foam over on
the tidy bar.
"How is 1t going?' she demanded
of old Reddy as he came-in.
IL dunno, l dunno" he said. II
done all i can. l heard Monroe man
say somebody's been tamperin' with
this ward since yesterday noon. If
the ward goes Republican it's you
that's done it. wildly"
'Where's Pat?" asked some one.
'How should l know" retorted the
widow consciously. Il haven't seen
him since last night"
'Vell, have. thin" answered Tim
with chuckle. AT five o'clock this
mornin' he had his mothers nag
hitched to a Dimmycrat wagon, and
he was draggin all 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, aud
no certain word had come from the
polls. The fire bells rang out and the
engine tore down the street, but to-
night ii made no difference to the
waiting crowd. The clock struck one.
Outside there was wild "hurrah,"
and Pat Murphy sprang into the room,
waving his hat.
"Hooray" he cried. "IIooray! The
Thirteenth went solid for Mulcahey, !"
Great circles We're under his eyes,
for he had forgotten to eat that day,
and he could scarcely stand for wearl.
ness.
Pat" called the widow, "come
here"
Murphy walked over to the bar, and
in the face and eyes of the crowd the
widow put both arms round his neck
and kissed him.