AUR P ER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOW-AJSHDA.:
fbursday Morning, February 2, 1859.
fkWt lMrj.
[From the Knickerbocker Mag Mine.]
RICH THOUGH FOOR.
BY A. p. r. BAMWLIMI.
y„ woJ of laud in all the earth.
Xoships upon the sea,
Xor treasures rare, nor gems nor gold,
IV any keep fot me ;
A; yesterday I wrought for bread,
So 1 must toil today ;
v f! some are not as rich as I,
Nor I so jH>or as they.
(V yonder tree the sunlight falls,
the rot in'.- on the hough -
Si!! 1 can hear a merrier note
pun he is warbling now ;
He's bat an Arab of the sky.
Aid never lingers long—
oat ikiU o'erruns the live long year
With music aud with song.
t me gather round me, little one*,
And M f sit me down.
With shouts of laughter on me place
A mimic regal crown :
mv childless king, would I accept
Your armies and domain,
Or e'en yonr crown and never feel
The:* tiny hands again ?
Here's more than honor in their touch.
And Messing unto nte.
Taw kingdom unto kingdom joined.
Or navies on the sea ;
jc greater gilt® to me are brought
Thar, -he'a's queen did bring
T.i hint who, at Jerusalem,
WAS borm to be a king.
[,v k at my crown and then at yours 1
Look :n my heart and thine :
Kiw do our jewels now compare -
The erth'y ana divine ?
Hod up your diamonds to the light.
Emerald and amethyst,
They re nothing to those love-lit eyes,
These lips so often kissed !
Ob' noble Roman of them all.
That aether, good and wise.
Who pemted to her little ones.
The jewels of her eyes.
Fiur sparkle in my own to-day.
To de.k a sinless brow ;
K.w grow my riches at the thought
Of those in glory now !
Ar, I yet no rood of all the earth,
v.- ships upon the sea,
N e treasures rare, nor gold, nor gems.
Are safely kept for me ;
Yet 1 am rick—myself a king
And here is my domain.
Wl h niv God can Uke away
To give me back again 1
.§ c 1 c 111 k fair.
(From the Dublin University Magaaiue.)
Life aiul Death in Tipperary.
A Story Founded on Fact.
coxci.cn r.i>.
Begone. you shameful wretch ! " he ex
haled, wildly. " Disgrace never darkened
' IT father's nauie till it was blackened by you!
the place ! Hide your face from all be
igin' to ve, YOU ungrateful girl! How dare
'; show vourself back here ia this brazen way?
well becomes you to have that impudence,
v that you've got nowhere else to go, since
'At Ula'guard you wiut off w t d is tuk up for
tinier and robbery."
Astonished at this reception, ret fully coro
wleading what the words of her father meant,
V* > endeavored to utter some explanatory
RRteoces, but he would not listen to a word
Me her. and even her mother called out stern-
T i
'Come in. Pat : shut the door, the air's
-•via' in cow Id."
la in iostaut after the door was banged
r M a forte that made the hinges tremble, and
Eiserable girl found herself once again
wee, standing out in the chill night air. with
> r;a pattenug thickly ou her. H-r head
- so* j: idv. and jXtacgering a few paces from
It u- she would have fallen to the ground,
i". a fr.r-ndlv arm been passed round herslMht
"s. as the voice of Bet Fagan murmured in
Wr for—
Never heed, alanah ! yon'll come wid rae "
A . else was uiist and confusion. The widow
Rtwrted ber to her own dwelling, and there
at jr." oo a bed tenderly as she might have
i't b*r own child.
Oh, poor thing! poor thi ;g ! sure you
' "tfti for your own ruin any way !" -die raur
[ u she chafed the girl's hands, and drew
* vaw hair fro® her beautiful forehead.—
sane nic-cif often thought things 'id come
-f f!t! psss? J"
Ne! r heard the words, and understood their
-THlcatkwi too well. Sne fixed her dark eyes
" iti.T oo the widow's face, but could uot ut-
word Pride choked ber utterance. The
* -'V ciMjticoed to murmar forth sundry other
''>-C-t that * ere passing through ber mud.
v vach left the miserable girl without a
•' Wt thot -he regarded her as a lost and er
'treature. Bet knew that human nature
?• and asked ia a whisper if she was mar
**:o I >2ary and received a decided answer
T."!* she oalj shook her head more
tijo ever, again marmaring, *" Oh
.war tiraj i
v to bear this any louger. the girl now
sp in an excited manner, aud with a
M® 80 ® t-am siffosiug her face, exclaimed in
icteau—
, Fagan, what d'ye Uke me for 7 Do
' *-y one else thick I was mane cnoogh
- Prt 7 Fogarty !*
aixcahsaid Bet, soothingly ;
ML ■ ~ - ncwPnt care foe what any oat says.'
.. - ••.Wild'ut 1 care? exclaimed Nelly
. a ' to ujr bat ®r ia-hcr turai mc
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
from the house like a mad dog? But y're all
mistaken. I never went away willin'. He tuk
me away—God sees he did ; au' I uever laid
eyes on him since the evenin' he carried me to
the mountains. The Lord only knows what
tempted him to do the like !"
Bet, once more urged the poor girl to calm
herself. As she could excuse frailty of one sort
so she could that of another ; and it did not
surprise her that Nelly should, as she thought,
resort to falsehood to screen herself from shame.
Therefore she did not press her to give a par
ticular account of her late adventures, so firm
ly was she convinced that a dark blot, which
nothing could remove, rested on her character.
Appearances were all against her. No story
that she might frame, however plausible, could,
in Mrs. Pagan's estimation, and to use her own
phrase, " deceive the people out of their seven
senses f and when the girl took her by the
arm, and solemnly recounted the daring act
Fogarty had been guilty of, in carrying her for
cibly from the Cappanick hills, and the after
eveuts, which the reader already knows, the
widow listened incredulously, though kindly,
thinking, at the same time, that it would be far
better, and more likely to awaken the compas
sion of the neighborhood, if Nelly stuck to the
truth, and confessed her fault repentantly. As
the young girl went on with her narration, she
only nodded her head at appropriate periods,
and ejaculated now and then. " Dear, dear !"
"Is it possible ?*' aud so forth. But it was
only when she slyiy observed, "Wasn't it the
poor story that you met Fogarty at all that
day !" that Nelly suddenly became aware that
her words were doubted. Starting up, she ex
claimed, " You don't believe me, Bet Fagan—
you know you don't !" and Bet, taken very
much aback, made as Jesuitical a reply as pos
sible, which, might neither offend her poor
frieud, or endanger her own knees by one of
Father McCabe's peuances for downright lies.
Without crediting anything whatever of the
story, Mrs. Fagau, nevertheless, remembered
every word of it, from beginning to end ; and
being much of a gossip, as well as kind heart
ed, lost no time in telling it over again to some
of her particular friends, and among them to
Kitty Dillon. Nelly's sister, who earnestly wish
ed it might be true, though she could hardly
dare to hope it was.
" There's only oue bein* can clear Nellv,'*
said Mrs. Fagan, as she spoke upon the subject
to Dan Phelan, a neighbor to whom she gen
erally applied for advice in time of perplexity;
for being, as she often observed, " a loue wo
man," she frequently fancied hersel: in want of
assistance. Tnis was considered a decided de
lusion on her part by the neighbors, who were
opinion that she was perfectly capable of man
aging the affairs of the whole country, without
help from any one. man or woman. There
wasn't socb a " stirring woman" for miles
around as Bet Fagan : she was the best dan
cer and the swiftest walker in the neighbor
hood ; she could sit up with the sick night af
ter night, without once snatching a wiuk of
sleep ; she was the merriest joktr at a w.tke,
and the most -killful layer-out of a corpse—
an accomplishment much pr.zed in Ireland ; in
short, in ail times of need. Bet's presence was
very much in demand ; uot a christening, fu
ueral or wedding, could be complete without ,
her : and her largo, good-natured face was of
ten the most cheering sight that met the gaze
of m:\nv a dying one. So she said to Dan Phe
lan, " Ther's only one beiu' that can clear Nel
ly. an' that's PetT Fogarty, himself. You see
he's in gaol at Conmel. an'maybe if you'd ride
over there. Dau, you'd get him to tell the truth
to you."
" I'm willin*, to do it," replied Phelan.
stratching his head, doubtfully ; " but I mis
trust. Bet—it'll be of uo use."
" Go. any way, whin 1 tell," urged the wid
ow ; aud Dan was obliged to say be would.
CHAPTER VIII.
The idea that hts daughter had the unblush
ing effrontery to return to the neighborhood,
after her supposed delinquency, struck Pal
Dillon, if possible, with greater wrath than he
had felt for the last three weeks. The coro
jNassion expressed for her by the neighbors, in
consideration of her youth and previous good
conduct, only hardened his heart, and made
him more unlikely to forgive her. He consid
ered it a slur cast upon his name, that auy ex
cuse could be found to palliate her glaring mis
conduct. Far better wouid be have been plea
sed, if the country all round 'bad joined con
demuing htr supposed guilt as something mon
strous and hitherto unheard of. His sons felt
equal fury, regarding their sister with
that might have honor to Spartans of old ;
nor was their mother at all more lenient to
wards her unhappy child Kitty, alone, of all
the family, experienced anything like compas
sion for the disregarded one; but shewas peremp
torily ordered n.t to see or speak to her. Nel
ly remained under the friendly shelter of Bet
Fagan's roof, a prey to the most despairing
feelings. There was one person very interest
ed in the misfortunes of Uie girl, wao, never
theless. spoke but little on the subject This
was Denis Ryan. Doabted. despised, as she
feit herself to be. Nelly woold rather have suf
fered her right Hand to have been lopped off.
than deign to ask for an interview with her
lover, when he did not seek of it himself, and
this Deuis was too proud to do. Uprightand
honest, with reputation never blemished. Ryan
was yet more cant iocs than generous ; and his
affection for Nelly, powerful as it mar have
been, was not as powerful as his fear of being
the mock and laugti:ng-lock of the country ;
and though be heard the account Nelly had
given of herself, and was aware that she had
always been the most truthful of beings, be
held aloof waiting for further evidence in ber
faTor. All this may have beee natural and
unit-rt . but Nelly felt she would have acted
very d fferect towards him As each day pass
ed,'she became more hopeless, comprehending
uiore and more cieaxlj how d.fficc.t it wocM
be for her to dispel the dark dood of shame
that rested upon ber. Bet Fagan at .eagth
had persuaded ber friend, Daa Phelan, to set
out tor Ctoamd. to seek an interview with Fo
garty. who uas waiting his tnal at the wi:
;r? for the cmiK of murder Through tin
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TO WAN DA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
I! treachery of one of his companions in guilt, he
: had been betrayed to the police, who after
! much fruitless searching among the Galtee
> mountains, at length captured him near Lim
. erick, where he was about to embark tor Amer
ica. Upon the evening that he had carried off
Nelly Dillon, a hint was given him by a com
; rade that he was to be thus betrayed, and in
consequence of this information, he abandoned
the usual hiding place resorted to by himself
and his lawless companions. Having deposited
the senseless form of Nelly in the cave, he found
• j it necessary to make bis escape in another di
rection with all speed, hoping to evade the po
lice as he had often done before. But anima
ted by the fiercest feelings of revenge, his pur
, suers were determined to hunt to the death, and
after some time Fogarty and a few others were
made prisoners.
Dan Phelan was not exactly the sort of per
sou calculated for such a mission as Bet Fa
gan despatched him on to the gaol. Peter re
eeived him sullenly, and as the poor stupid old
man scratched his head, and hemmed and haw
ed, ignorant of how he should commence his
inquiries, Fogarty maintained a dogged silence,
by no means encouraging. At last Dan was
necessitated to tuke his departure as wise as
he came, with a very unsatisfactory report to
bring Mrs. Fagan." Nelly, who had clung to
hope that Fogarty might have honesty enough
to clear her character, was wofully disappoint
ed at the ill success of Phelan's efforts ; the
blow fell so heavily upon her that she had be
came very ill, and was for many weeks laid up
on a sick bed, while Bet Fagau aud her old
friend. Norry Croou, nursed her with unwea
rying kindness.
Father McCabe, the parish priest, was call
ed in to see her, and from his manner, and a
few words he dropped upon hearing Nelly's
confession, Bet felt, at la.-t, almost convinced
that she was as innocent as she declared herself
to be.
" Bedad,*' though she, " I'll thry woonst
more again, afore it is too late to get ber righ
ted. an' sure if I fail I can't help it ; no one
can do more than their best."
The assizes had commeuced unusually early
this year, and Fogarty was now a condemned
crimiual. awaiting the hour of execution in hi?
cell. Oue morning Bet set out on foot for
Clonmel, withont mentioning the object of In r
journey to any one. It was a raw day ; sleet
was drifting over the hills and valleys ; laden
clouds darkened the sky ; but unswerving from
her purpjse the widow heeded uot the weath
er. Her short, sturdy figure might have been
seen moving steadily along, undaunted by wind
or snow. Arrived at the towa. she made her
way at once to the gaol, and a.-ked [>ermis-ioii
to see Fogarty. After some difficulty it was
granted, and >he soon found Lerseif in the pres
ence of the coudetnued man. Ever since his
capture and conviction, Peter had preserved a
most uudauutcd bearing. Tin? tire of his eye
stiil burned brightly as ever ; the wild, scorn
ful expression of his countenance remained un
changed. He tn'ght have stood as a m.xlel
for any bandit hero of romance II? had lis
tened to his deatl!->enter,ee in court without
moving a muscle of his face : yet, trheu Bet
Fagan stood before him, his eye quailed, and
, for afc* miuutes he appeared struck with deep
emotiou
" Pety,'' said the widow, kindly, while her
voice quivered slightly ; '* it isn't here I ex
pected to meet you next, whin we parted after
the dance in Tim Scully's bam."
He made uo reply,and Mrs. Fagan continued:
•' I'm sorry for you, an' that's the truth. Pe
' tjr. There's a world o' trouble kem over the
neighborhood since that same night. Poor
Nelly Dillon was blight and merry at the dance
an' now, sure enough not one 'id think she was
I the same colleen ; it's on her account that I'm
here to-day, Pety. au' a? ye expect mercy for
ycr sow! whin ye lave this world. I'd have yon
make ft clean confession of what pa>-ed to make
her quit her father's house the way she did.
She'ill never hould up her head unless some
thing's done to make the couuthry think bct
ther of her than they do "
*' What do yon want me to do V a-ked Fo
garty. gloomily.
•" I waut you to tell me, in the name of all
that's blessed, did Nelly go wid you wid her
own free will an' consent V
" D'X-s she say >he did V a.-ked Peter, fix
ing his eyes with a mocking expression on Bel's
face.
" Never heed what she says,"said the widow,
evasively ; " hut spake lor yoarself."
'■ Whatever Neilv says is true," replied
Fogarty.
" Bat that won't do,'* rejoined Bet. " H-r
people, more shame for them, wont b'lieve her
own story ; they're as black agin her as if he
was no more to them than a *tone wall If I
was you. Pety. I'd spake out to the truth, if it
was only to shame them."
Mrs. Fagan was a skillful diplomat?, and
had very cunningly spoke t;e last words
*' Does Nelly curse me- ?" a>ked F .tarty.
" Curse yon, Pety! Ah,r.ot *be ! Neil;is*.'!
the one to curse jam, let who wtU ; but >ne
frettio' her hfe out about everything. D'ye
thick she forgets the tune when you an' she
was coortin". an' you not higher than meself ?
Curse yoa, indeed ! I'm afraid it was only 100
well she liked yon always, an'there's the truth
for you ! Poor child ! she's !y:n" as wake as
an infant now. a'most dead in me house at
home ; an' there isn't one o' her people Ml pat
their foot inside the door."
" Does Dinny Ryan be often in aid TOU V
" D.ony, is it ? Musha, God help ye ! Diunj
doesn t show hi* nose in the house ! He'a as
biack agio ber as anybody else ; maybe worse
I d just like to let cirn see be was nusuaen
about Nelly, if it was only for •pile "
" Wbat can 1 do for bier ? what is it yoc
want, Mrs Fagan V
44 I want you to confess oat right, bow it was
that Nelly ariut away wid ye, so that her peo
ple may know the truth ; an" if yoa toali it
all afore Father McCabe, an' gave him lave to
make it known to the Duloos, an' everybody
else ia the place sure, that "id be eaoagh ~
•• I haven't got store tha* a few days to
, Lie,"* md Fogarty, couilj ; ' Fa to be hntiz
I on Tuesday
" RESARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
I" Sure there's time enough for .your confes
sion, anyhow," replied Bet, iu a business like
manner. "It wouldn't take more than an
j hour or two to see Father McCabe and tell
him everything."
" Well, maybe you had best send him," ob
served Fogarty, after a pause.
" Au' what 'ill you tell him ?" asked Bet,
who now began to entertain douhts about the
sort of confessiou Petv might make.
" I'll tell him what's the truth."
" You'r uot joking, Pety V
" Sorra joke," replied the condemned man.
" But what's the truth ?" persisted the
widow.
" Father McCabe'ill tell you," replied Fo
garty.
" Pety," said Mrs. Fagau, solemnly, " re
raimber that we'll part shortly, niver to meet
agin in this life, an' whatever you say, let it be
nothin' that 'ill b'lie Nelly."
Fogarty looked impenetrable, and hurriedly
said :
" Send Father McCain'."
As the turnkey came to say he must put an
end to the interview, Bet shook hands kindly
with Fogarty, just as she had, during her life
time, shaken hands with scores of men abont
to be hung, and wiping some tears from her
eyes, left the gaol. Back again, through wind
and sleet, with the gathering gloom ot night
descending upou all outward objects, the wid
ow went home. She was afraid to mention
any thing of her expedition to Nelly, for fear
of further disappointment ; and when the girl
anxiously inquired where she hud been all day,
she vaguely replied—
" Only a piece otF, alanah, seeiti' a frind,
an' I was delayed longer than 1 intinded."
'• What day is this ?" inquired Nelly.
" It's Friday, sure."
" Saturday, Sunday, Monday," muttered
Ndlv, as if to herself, adding aloud, " there's
only three days more for him to live, Mrs.
Fagan, he'll be hung on Tuesday."
" Well, au' if he is, sure the world 'ill be
well red of him," replied Bet shortly.
Nelly said uo more ; but the widow looked
uneasily at her as she saw her clasp her hands
convulsively together. A long silence ensued
only broken by the clinking of pots and pans,
and the whirr aud crackle of the biaziug wood
that was helping to get the .-upper ready.
Nelly was sitting oy the tire, looking beautiful,
> though fearfully emaciated.
"What way d'ye feel the night?" asked
Bet. after a long survey of her pale features
'* I feel as if I was deed. Mrs. Fugan."
" Lord be pood to us ! How'* that, an' you
sittin' there alive euoogh ?"
" 1 feel as if was dead, Bet Fagan, an'as if
God had cursed rue so that I was condemned
to walk the earth, a spirit that nobody wanted
to see."
" It's a sin to talk that wilj way. agra,"
said Bet, looking a little alarmed. Nelly cer
tai'iiy looked rather spectral ; but there was
the light of an unquenchable pride burning still
tr> her eye.
T:ie next morning wa= Saturday a wild.dreary
day, and Bet went early to Father M'Cabe to
g;ve him Peter Fogarty's message. The priest
was a good natured man, and he lost no time
in repairing, in his gig, to Clonmel. Mrs.
Fagan saw him off with great *a ! '.-faction, and
yet. when he was gone, a dull misgiviug cros
sed her mind that Fogarty niig'.i, possibly,
make matters worse than ever by stating false
hoods in hi- dying coufession.
" Musha, he was always fa!! of tricks and
divilmint,"she muttered as she went home;
" au' he no more cared for priest uor mass than
the haythen."
This reflection induced Bet to take a gloomy
view "of affairs for the remainder of the day ;
' and -he wa glad that she had not given Neily
any reason to bope. She felt very uneasy,
iudeed ; aud when she heard toe well-kaowu
rattle of the priest's gig returning, she ran out
iu the dusky evening to hear the worst at
enee
" Well, yer riverence. what new have you
forme?" she asked, as Father M Cube alight
ed at his own house
j " You mustn't be impatient, Bet," replied
' Lis reverence, s!ow!y and calmly : " whatever
I have to say. yoa can't hear it till-to morrow
" Oh. raosha. Father John let me hear it
litis m nna,''entreated the widow, :aauagony
of suspense.
"To morrow, Bet—to morrow," repeated
the priest.
" Oh. it's no good !" moaned the woman,
striking her hamls together. " Sure, ;f i: w as,
you'd spake it out at woa-t."
' You mast l>ear ail things patiently," re
jected Father M'Cabe, grave'v.
"Oh. >"rra bit o' patience ever I bad, your
riverence." said Bet. with frankness. "If
you'd teii ne at woust what news you hare.
I d -leep sound the i.igut "
"To-morrow I w.i!—not |iQ then.''
•"Tomorrow*-Sunday, an' -arc there'll be
three nn*ses an" a sermon, an' it'll! be ait hearts
afore I can see yer riverence to spake to "
"Never iniud thai. Cooe to mass, jr. si as
yon do every Sunday, and don't be thinking
of anything but y,ur prajew," replied Fjther
John, as he unrelentingly entered his house
and closed the door.
CO.XCU.aIOV
THE Sunday broke over the world bright
and cloudless, and from far and uear the hern
edoo her cheek, a bright !:_* * flashe-i it peasants
j were flocking to Father M'Cabe'scl.apel But
Fag-.ui, as usual, got rtaiiy for twe.ve o'clock
ma&j.aod as she left the boa-e she recomruended
Nelly to the attention of old Norry Croon.—
The chapel was very much crowded that day
Bet foand some difficulty in poshiig bt-r ay
through the m&ss of people that thronged the
bnildmg The Dilloos were there, praying de
vootly. aad sprioklicg thenMeives well with
holy water ; while Detis Ryan coald be ster
amocg the crowd busy witli his m'ssa! Nobody
was eveetoally more wrapt in devotion than
the widow hcrse.f she swayed oerseff bacx
wards aod forwards in a perfect agony of pit: y.
aj-J a mai jcsar I ke the .-wd! of the • occa
sionally arose through t v -- bu : a- Lb* ec
ih'jM.a reorle war--] rrrster s*?l
greater. At length the sermon commenced.
Everybody was attentive. A pin might have
been heard dropping, so still was the congre
gation. At the conclusion of the discourse,
Father M'Cabe, according to custom, entered
into some secular affairs of the parish ; asked
why Jack Mollov hadn't brought in his harvest
dues months ago, like everybody else ; threat
eued to denounce any man that had beeu con
cerned in cutting off Tim Brogau's cow's tail, .
and painting his horse's skin ; ana declared his
intention of horse-whippinar whoever it was that
nailed Mary Hanuegan's three fine liens to her
own door. The worthy pastor kept his mo>t
remarkable piece of information tiil the last,
summing up all by an astounding disclosure— ,
" And now, good people," said he, as he
turned his face fuil round to the congregation,
" I'm going to tell yon something that'll as
tonish and gratify you all ; and it's no less that
I have it iu my power to declare to yon this
blessed day that Pat Dillon's daughter, Nelly,
is as innocent as the unborn child. I heard
the coufe-sioa from Peter Fogarty's own lip<,
iu Cioumel gaol, yesterday ; and it was his wish ;
that I would tell it before you all this day."
Here followed, amid the breathless silence .
of the hearers, a brief, but correct, account of j
eveuts which the reader is already acquainted i
with ; and when Father John ceased to spe:ik, j
a cheer burst from the crowd that shook the
chapel windows, and made the image of the
V:rgiu over the altar sway from side to side
perceptibly. A rush was made from the build
ing without delay ; and Bet Fagan, being near
the door, got out first, and with the speed of
lightning rushed to her own house, where she !
communicated to Nelly the glad tidings she
had heard, and which were now known to
everybody, far and near, in the parish. On
beinsr made acquainted with this intelligence,
Nelly slowly arose from he beJ, where she had
been recliniug. A bright flush was iu her eye,
but speech seemed to fail her, fur she uttered uo
word.
" Oh, thin, it's meselfs the glad woman this
day !" exclaimed Bet, clapping her hands, and
swaying her large bead to and fro. N >rry
Croon now confronted her, with her hands iu
her tides, and her withered face agitated in
every feature—
" Didn't I tell yon, Bet Fagan, that I never
believed a word ngaiu' Nelly Dillon. Didn't I
say she wasn't the one to disgrace ber people?"
" Ye did, Norry, ye did," murmured the i
widow, who was now fairly shedding tears of
thankfulness.
A mighty surging sound wa now heard w .'th
ou', at. i pre-eritiy the doorway was blocked
up by tie are- u'i eager to enter tae hou-e.—
Pat Dillon, with his wife and daghter, Kitty,
were given precedence, of course, aud rushing
in, they frantically embraced Nelly, who stood
upright in the middle of the floor
" Staud back, ali o'ye !' >aid .Mrs. Fagan.
a- she motioned to the crowd out>ide to keen
off. arid, obeying her commands the jiceple
moved from t!i- door. leaving Nelly's relatives
to speak to her in peace.
" Nelly, my OR T jewel, TOU'I! come hack to
yonr poor father woust more !'' cned D.don,
triumphantly.
" An' it's Dinny Ryan'- the prond man this
day ! " exclaimed the mother, weeping. Kify,
unable to utter a word, hung upon Lis sister's
neck, she idir.g tears. Nelly uiade uo reply to
any txpres_-kmof endearment, a id returned no
car--—. When Dennis Ryan rush-d joyously
into the house, aud prepa-ed to seize her hand
with euthusia-m. the girl drew back proudly,
and in a voice that thrilDd through the nerves
of her hearers, spoke out at la-l—
--" Keep back, Dennis Ryan ! keep hack ail
o've ! You're uothiu' to me, an'l'm nothiu' to
ye!"
" Nelly, dear Nolly ! " said Bet Fagan, re
buk Ugly.
Ay, uothiu' to me," repeated NV'y, with
flashing eyes, while the proud dilation of her
beautifully formed nostril* lent an expression of
wandrou- power to her cuontenaoce. A pain
ter might have chosen her as a personification
of proud woman's indignation—" I'm uothiu'
to or.e o'ye ! "
" Y;-\ y's" sa'l Dillon, soothingly, " yoa
ar- the same to me you ever were. You're me
own net child again ! "
'• But you're are not the same to rue " repli
ed Nelly, bitterly.
" I am ! I am, me poor child," continued
Dll'on ; "an' you're father's house i- there
ready to receive yoa this Oiinnit: so y. 1 had
be*t come at wor.st "
"Never!"' cried the eirl. vehemently.—
"Never wil' I cross the threshold of the door
that -hut u.e oat in the dark night. No, Pat
Dillon : I'm yoar daughter no longer. I've no
father nor mother, ROT s:*ter, nor brother. ' I
hav'nt one to love me bat tbe mm that'll lie
hang in the front of Clommei gaol the day
after to-morrow !
" Nelly, acasfcla ! ~ murtaurtd Bet Fagan,
reproachfully
" Yoa w- re kind t<i me. Bet Fagau ?" said
Nedy, takmg her hand : " aa' you, Norry
Croon, k icw *ne U-tter than my own j>eopie ;
you trusted me m- re than the man that want
ed me for his wife ; still ti. re wasn't o e o* ye
loved aud trosted me like Peter Fogarty. W d
ail his crimes on his head, an' great *ro:.g a*
he done or. aud great soraow as he gave
niy heart, I'd marry him th s b!esi.-ed i.y, it
Father M Cabe'i eaapel, if he was here, fr.e
o-t of prison."
Tre neighbors had by this time gathered
into tfichoose, and -tool looking m aghaia
Whispers ran round to the eff-ct that Nelly
must aave grown light in ber head ; but so ae
there were thai thought she sarved her ;<eo
p!e right."
"Yflallcoae home this a nnit ? ~<-ried P* T
D ilon, wc>se anger was t.ow rou-ed. and •■<=
adraaoed to taae his dxuguter's arm ai a firm
grasp
'* Never never exclaim-:d Nelly, shak rg
hi? hand off with wild ea.tne*?. " If there
wasn't another roof to shelter me in this wcri
I'd perish rat-ier Can pet a foot insMe yonr
b inse ! I loved yon ixtber, I iOTed you
so well that I broke try owe heart for yon !
T did whit T <-on*d to '*/;•* 'he box that *l
- •Jt*af *0 see a: n> own hf fix roiß* a kttt *
VOL. XIX—XO. 35.
year, ju-t Iwcauseyoa didn't like him ; and I
strove to like another till J did like him ; sua
I pave IIIV promise to marry liim, and (jod
sets it was a promise I'd have kept : but I'm
sorry to the heart now thut ever 1 did the like,
for the love I threw away was the only true
love anion.' ye all ! Ay, I'ety Fogartv ! ajur
derer, robber, whatever you are, I'd uiarry you
this minnit if you were here to take me ! But
we'll be together soon enough 1"
Fiercely wroth, Dillon made aoo'her rush
towards the excited girl, but many bauds held
him back.
" You'll not lay a finger on her ! " shouted
the voice of Bet Fugan. "Ye desarve the*,
every one o' ye, for yti were hke Turks to her
an' ye know it !"
Mrs. D.lion looked nearly as stem as her
husband ; aud her sous, who were now enter
ing, would have almost torn tlieir sister limb
from limb, so great was their indignation, had
not the crowd lorced them out again. While
much bustle ensued, Nelly's strength liecumu
exhausted, and seeing her sway to and fro, a>
she stood in the centre of the floor, Bet Fag**,
rushed to catch her in her urms. The girl'*
head dropped heavily on her shoulder, aud see
ing the expression of her features, Norry Croon
shrieked out—
" tihe's dyiu', she's dyin'; lave the boiue
every one o' ye ! "
The crowd fell back as N'orry waved her
hand to them, but the D.ilous did not tnovo.—
Bet la. i Nelly on the bed, ad Mrs. Dillon, now
overcome with a mother's feelings, ran forward
to her; but gathering up all her strength tha
girl pushed the unfortunate woman away from
her with scorn and indignation.
I'at Dillon at length burst into tears, aud
wrung his hands despairingly.
" Nelly,Xelly !" he rxclaimed wildly," won't
ye look on ver own father, au' say ye forgive
him 7"
Fixed and glazed, the daughter's eyes were
fastened on vacancy ; the thinirs of this world
h®d vanished from their sight forever ; tha
life-blood was already growing stagnant in the
veins
" She's dead." whispered N'orryCroon, bend
ing over her ; " the breath's gone."
A wild cry like the shriek <>l some forest
beast—discordant, ferocious, despairing—rang
through the room : and rushing townrds tha
bed. Bat D lion seized the sense'ess form of
hisch 1. in his arms, and bore it from the house
in a frenzy fearful to behold. Tne women
screamed and ran after him ; but with the
speed of madue*.-, he gained Lis own house ere
they could stop him Flinging the corpse on
the lcd in the kitchen, he exclaimed—
" She'll not be wck-.d a night out o' ber fa
ther's house, any how ," and tLtu burat into a
hideous jwal of laughter.
Bet rememt'cred bis own words, spoken the
morning after Nelly's disappearance, that khe
should never cro.-s his threshold aiive again.—
It w as her duty to lay ou' the dead body, aud
very mournfully she did it. Never had she
dressed out a fairer corpse, wake that
night in the Dillons' home was a strange one
The neighbors from far and near had gathered
to it—nil except Denis livan ; ard though
there were p pes and tobacco in abundance, and
plenty of wl.-kny, there was little merriment
One alone of those present joked and laughed
w :h a wih.' revelry that struck horror into the
hearts of the rest. This was the father of her
WHO lay lib LEV* before their eyes. Trie light of
reason had vanished forever from Bat Dillon's
mind : and w hen his child's corpse was lowered
into its eartnly resting place upon the sami
day that w: nesscd the execution and burial of
Btter togarrv, he clapped his hands, uttering
unearthly -.cuts of triumph. From that tim>s
he was a confirmed maniac, gradually sinking
into idiocy His family became scattered ; tha
departed to America and Australia ; hit
wife, and daughter kitty, did not survive their
on-for.ones very long ; and Bat became n num
erable oiject, wandering from town to town,
generally attired in a cwst off--liber's uniform
He wes - on well known at Thurles, Cionmel.
atxj Ca-lie; ; and till his hair was grey, and hie
form bent with age, he continued to live a
po r iiot. His farm pas.-ei into other hands
The walls of the house are black and oil
now reader, bat t'i.ey stand still j and though
Bat ;s ! ug dead, Lis unha; py story, and ta
nie'an.-boljr fate of Lis favorite child, is still
-:<>k n of in the n< IgLborhuoJ, though Be'
Fagan a' ! Norry Croon. i ke many of their
eon?-mporaries, ..av c been gathered to the r
eternal dwellings.
HONOR -HY M THEO. —Despise not thy moth
er whtn 'te is o'J Age miy wear and waste
a mother'- b<aaty, strength, limb<, sei.-es and
estate : but ber relation as a mother is a- the
sin wLich go- th forth in Lis inight, for it is
always in the meridian, and k.ioweth no even
ing. T'ic per- n may lie greyiiea-k f, tut her
motherly rtlati :i is- Ter ii it- f url-b. I: may
bejaotumts, Trs winter, with a woman, but with
'be m 't!i -r. a- r other, it is alw its 'spring.—
Ala-. Low little do we appreciate a mother's
tend ru ss while 11 rig ! bow heed'ess *re we
in youth ;! ail her anx et '% aid khidm-m !
Bitwhc* -in- s dead and an igo e when the
cares an I coWnes.- of ile worf-1 come wither
in* to our h-art—when we exj*n-w>ce ho*
hard ii iv to Snd true sympathy—how few J r#
as for oor-- ve-—how lew will hefrteod n io
in -iiortQsie—t'itii it a that we think of tha
mother hav*
Frrnv <oor- r &THE YcxtaTEa - A school
n.'-ro out West tells iac following r hinidi at
' r-.ic *i teach.a K'bon' la an ad
• • g aui ".boarding wiiid."* Oa rts
.'I " new pi*'*,'* oo M today n'kja, she Kt
t f :th the fa ii-j rjaod a ua*ii
p: < talie. a; I !e a i.,ta* of brown bread,
fat fr d pork, aed roast potatoes. Just I*
fore push .g U* £fr .i! tie table, a joaegste:
of ten year.-, x .U o-.f
" I k.iov w,*l good r ctoals is,'ves su'ii: 1
kn w what fj* ** Do yoa ii.devdr' exdau;
ei to* embarrass d scNxv'-sa'am. :.ot fu>ow;ug
what to say. and a-vhex-cd to say aothuig
" Yo, u aa! I kttow_- wha* good v--taak .
|N -j a**- from bow'** r - t.a>* ai I n*
le- - on t. '