Year: 1874

voices OF men ready and eager to meet


death, so that with it they found re-


vengo; the lurid glare of the rebel bea'


cons lighting up tho soft summer-night


landscape; the ceaseless tramp and


tumult Of camp tho terrible rumort


which doated, it seemed, on tho worry


airs of heaven; the news brought in by


disguised scouts of the burning, by the


rebels, of Scullabogue Barn, crowded


with 800 prisoners, whom they flung


back in the flames when they did man
age to escape through door or window
the capture of the mails in different
parts of Ireland, the burning of the
coaches when the bags were secured,
the murder of the passengers and guards
the wild excesses of Father Murphy in
the south, whose house md chapel the
soldiers had burned down; he had vow:
ed fearful vengeance, which he had
began on the dreadful 23d of May by
setting fire to the house of every Prot
estant in the little town of Kilcormick
and numbering the owners. May had
its catalogue of horrors they were to
be surpassed by the massacres which
took place during June in the rebel
camp on Vinegar Hill, but the horror
reached it's climax with the murders on
Wexford bridge. will not dwell on
this, dear, but will tell you that late
ono evening towards the end of June a
weary, blood-stained, wounded fugitive
crept in here with the news. The tale
he told maddened the soldiers, even the
tender heart of my father hardened
against the torturers of some of the best
and noblest men in Ireland, many of
them his own loved friends. There was
hurried call to arms, q midnight
march, from which there was to be no
homecoming for him and for many be-
side. He was colonel of the regiment,
and rode off with set face and cleaning
eyes, which never softened, even as he
kissed good-by to wife and child-my
sister Meg, your grandmother-I was
not born then. Three days,-a long,
hot, breathless agony of suspense for
poor mother-did not bring him back !;
with the dawn of the fourth came the
heavy tramp of armed men her weary
eyes, which had not closed since she
had looked her last on her husband,
watched band of rebels march sullenly
down the hill beside the house, looking
neither to the left nor right, speaking
no word, leaving broad crushed track
as they went through the dew-hung
corn, the rosy dawnlight glinting on
their pixies stained with dull crimson,
on the wide black banner, with its
blood red cross and motto, Murder
without SIM They passed down the
valley and away, and still my mother
watched. At last there came the we'll
known uniforms over the winding road,
but without my father. He had left
them three hours before to ride across
bog, a short cut home was not pos
sible for the soldiers to cross it in a
body. His brother officers had tried to
diss 5lade him but, laughing at the idea
of risk and anxious to relieve my moth.
er's fears, he rode of, never to be seen
again in life but by his murdcrers.
Weary as they were, detachment was
at once sent off to commence search
which lasted till nightfall, when, lying
naked and disfgured in adeep bog hole,
they found body. Ny mothers loving
eyes alone recognized IN one poor manned
hand that of her husband. That night
I was born"


But, auntie, knowing all this, how
can you love these people, live amongst
them, help them, rs you do-the chill
dren of your fathers murderers -


Lora, the wrongs of centuries had
maddened them. Ny mother lived six
lonely years after that summer morning
when her heart was broken. In life
and death she taught us the lessons of
forgiveness. No, the terrible excesses
of 98 are more easily pardoned than the
horrible cold blooded murders of later
years-cowardly, cruel!-the shooting
of the defenseless from hedge shelter.


"Shall I tell you another story? You
have heard of your Aunt Mabel from
the time of your grandmother death
she had been my child and darling !;
your father was In Demerara. and We
were alone in the world but for each
other, and we were very happy together.
She married at eighteen ; her husband
was an Englishman, younger son, not
rich he had been in the army for few
years, but sold out on his marriage and
bought farm on the other side of the
valley. Ny wedding gift to them was
their new home, it was a mere farm
house when Will bought it; but during
their wedding tour, which lasted for six
months, and which they finished by a
round OF visits amongst his people in
England. I had the whole house re-
modelled and enlarged, made into fit
ting home for my pet. How enjoyed
furnishing it, remembering all her
pretty whims and fancies!


'It was bright homecoming.
With what pretty glee Mabel ran from
room to room, delighted with every
thing I had done for herl Then the
pretty shy grace with which she took
her place as mistress. Onel little happy
week passed to which I shall always
look back as the last of real happiness
in my life. You know, dear, I am hap
py now and content, as an old woman
should be whose life is warmed by the
loving kindness of every one around
her, who has been given the abiding
Joy, which never grows insipid, of being
able to brighten other lives with some
of the brightness given to her own.
And then there is the best and dearest
joy of all-the knowledge thatthe loves
of long ago are kept safely in Gods
own care to be mine again one day
very soon now-when I, too, reach the
world where the incompleteness of this
will be rounded and perfected.


''But this little week was happy and
warm with joy of another kind which
have missed ever since. It was Christ
mas eve. All day my darling had been
busy with decorations and preparations
for the next day, when all the tenants
on the new estate were to be entertained
in the servants hall.


Well, dear, I remember coming
down that afternoon. had been busy
writing in my own room; I found the
whole house a bower of greenery, the
last touch given, and May and her hus-
band resting before the fire in the hall.
whose cedar wainscot sent out ruddy
CLEANS and spicy fragrance in acknowi-
edgment of the light and warmth. She
smiled up at me from nest of skins.
among which she was costly lounging,
resting her bright head against Wills
knee, and held up two pretty dusty
hands to be exclaimed at.


eve were talking of last Christmas. "
she said, when I had taken the chair
Will drew forward for me. "How long
it seems, and how strange that then we
did not know each other Will scorch-
ing in India, You and Christmasing at
Glenbawn, auntie. Oh, I wish could
give you those eighteen years, Will! 1t
is SO dreary to think you were not in
them"


You will give me the next eighteen,
and many years beside that will con-
tent me, little wife. I am sure you
were a mischievous little monkey, and
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