THE LIFE OF ST. PATRICK.
Divested of legendary lore the life
story of St. Patrick is not a long one.
Wales, Scotland and France all claim j
his birth with the weight of probability
in favor of Wales. The date was about
873. When he was about sixteen years
old he was stolen by pirates or marauders
from the north and sold as a slave in
Ireland. For seven years he tended
swine on a mountain in County Antrim,
and then he escaped to the continent,
whore he became deacon, priest and
bishop. He came of good family, and
the ecclesiastical name of Patricius was
given him by Pope Celestine, who sent
liim back to Ireland to convert the
people. Tho accounts differ about his
age at this time.
6T. PATRICK.
Some of the dates given indicate that
he was about thirty; others that he was
nearer sixty. Before he returned to Ire
land he had visions. Among them was
one of a man named Victorious, who
brought him letters. In 0110 of these
were the words, "Tho Voice of the Irish,"
and as he read them he heard a voice
say, "We pray thee, holy youth, to come
and henceforward walk among us."
After this he spent Ills life in preaching,
baptizing and working miracles, and ac
complished tho practical conversion of
the people of the island. He died at tho
age of about 120 years and was buried
at Downpatrick.
A BREAK FOR FREEDOM.
A ST. PATRICK'S DAY STORY BY ERNEST
JARROLD (MICKY FINN).
[Copyright, 1803, by American Frees Associa
tion.]
HE shades of St.
Pa' rick's eve set
tied swiftly down
m upon the fouud-
ling asylum. The
fl rW )'/ vain was fall
y tng drearily. The I
aifrnn f - wind seemed to
I li [A- I'J* 6 sigh and sob tbe
words, "The Hi
bernians will get wet tomorrow." The
doors had been closed for the night; the
200 boys had oaten supper and at 0
o'clock had been sent to the dormitories
at the big building's top. The boys had
gone to bed, the keepers had made the
final tour of examination, and all the
foundlings slept save bright eyed Mi
chael Ryan, of whom one keeper had
said:
"You never know what the little rascal
will do next."
Michael had lived his life of twelve
years in absolute freedom. For weeks
at a time he had not slept in a bed, choos
ing the piers and doorways of the busi
ness houses rather than the abuse and
contumely of his home. And now that
he was shut up in a big stone building
the native desire for freedom made his
spirit chafe at confinement as a young
tiger gnaws at his bars.
And as he lay there in the darkness it
occurred to little Miko that tomorrow
was St. Patrick's Day—the day when
the streets were filled with marching
regiments of men; when music pulsated
on the air; when gayly decorated horses
pranced and cheers aroused echoTs in
tho long brick, canyonlike streets. Mike's
cheeks flushed as he remembered previ
ous St. Patrick's days, when he had par
ticipated in the festivities and gazed in
ecstasy upon the flying banners. But
this year he reflected angrily that grim
walls shut him in on all sides; that
watchful keepers were ready to shut off
any attempt to escape.
But hope came to him. Perhaps, after
all, ho might escape. He had sat up in
the gallery of a Bowery theater and had
seen Monte Cristo cut his way through
fourteen feet of solid rock and then
thrown over a cliff a hundred feet high
in a hag. And still Monte Cristo es
caped. Why couldn't ho do it? With
heating heart lie sat up In bed. A crim
inal confined for life never longed for
liberty more sincerely than did that for
lorn waif. He reflected that he was in
tho top story of the building, at least
sixty feet from tho ground. Ho could
hear the fierce March wind driving the
l ain against the windows in sharp gusts.
Still this did not dampen his enthusi
asm. He would brave much more than
a wetting to get outside tho wall and
Walk behind the procession. But he
must have assistance. Who could he
got to help him? There were plenty of
hoys who would like to escape, hut few
who had the nerve to attempt it. He
mentally rejected them all hut Patsey
Flaherty as lacking in some characteris
tic necessary for the undertaking.
"Ha, he's just the lad," muttered Mike
to himself. Patsey slept on the other
side of the dormitory. So Mike got out
of his bed, with bare feet, and dropping
on his knees crept softly until he reached
Patsey's bed. The boy was sleeping
peacefully. One grimy hand was thrown
outside the quilt. This Mike seized gen
tly and began to squeeze it. Patsey
moved uneasily and then awoke. He
w as frightened and would have cried out
in alarm had not Miko put a hand over
his month. Mike muttered;
• Keep quiet, patsey; it's only me."
"What do you want, Mike?" whispered I
Patsey.
"Do you want to see do purcession?"
asked Mike. "What purcession?" in
quired Patsey.
"De St. Patrick's Day parade." "Why, |
is dey goin to leave us out?" inquired
Patsey eagerly.
"Naw," was the reply, "dey wouldn't
leave a cat out o' dis. Me an you'll go
out widout askin 'em." By this time j
Patsey was thoroughly interested.
"Who was St. Patrick," ho said.
"Why," answered Mike, "ain't you never
heerd o' him? He's do priest wot driv
all the snakes out o' Ireland. He was a 1
gyant ten feet high. He was a torrer- !
bred, sure, he was, an 110 mistake. Ev
ery year de bands goes out, and do Hi
bernians and de Land league and de
St. Patrick's sassieties puts 011 dere
Sunday clothes and goes out in the street,
an do band plays 'Johnny, Get Yer Gun'
an 'Boom-ta-ra' an 'St. Patrick's Day
in de Mo'nin.' It's great, Patsey; it's
great. Le's go."
Patsey's eyes dilated as he listened to
this glowing recital. His red hair almost j
rose 011 his head with anticipation.
."How kin wo go?" he whispered.
"Wot's de matter wid de windy?" in
quired Mike.
"Dat's all right, Mike," said Patsey,
palpitating in the darkness, "but de win
dy's sixty foot high."
"Ah, don't be gittin nifty, Patsey,"
said Mike. "Lay low; lay low," he con
tinued as a head rose above the cover- j
let in an adjoining bed. Mike dropped
softly to the floor. They waited until
the head sank upon the pillow again;
then Mike said:
"Put on yer duds an come over to my
bed."
In less than two minutes the boys had
donned their clothes, all but their shoes.
Then they both got into Mike's bed and
pulled the clothes over their heads so
that they could arrange their plans to
gether without danger of being over
heard.
"You'll be de sojer an I'll be de gineral. I
Sec, Patsey," said Mike in a muffled tone, j
with his mouth close to Patsey's ear,
"we'll take do bedcords out o' your bed j
an my bed an tie 'Cm togedder. See?
Den we'll slide down do rope to de groun
an skin out over de wall. Hey, how
does dat hit ye?"
"Dat's great, Mike; dat's great," an
swered Patsey. "On'y we mus'n't make
no noise, 'cause de odder kids'll get onto
us and want to go along."
Leaving Mike's bed and going back to
his own, Patsey placed the bedclothes
and the mattresses softly upon the floor
in the darkness and began untying the
, bedcord. It was knotted so tightly that
| he often had to use his teeth. His heart
beat a lively tattoo 'against his ribs as 110
gnawed away at the knots, but after an
hour's hard work he held the rope in his \
hand apd walked softly over to where j
Mike was still at work. Both boys ut- ;
tered a sigh of relief as Mike untied the j
last knot, and the two ropes were care
fully tied together.
"Wbat'U we tie de rope to?" asked Pat
sey as they stood under the deep em
brasured window in the 4-foot wall.
"We'll bring my bed over an tie it to
dat," was the reply.
This was a very difficult job, as the
' bed was of iron, 6 feet long and 4 feet
wide. But they were materially assisted
in their task by a rift in the clouds
which permitted a little light to steal in
the window. After they had secured
the rope to the iron railing of the bed
Mike crawled upon tho window sill and
raised the sash, and while Patsey hung to
his feet he leaned out and looked down
ward. Only a black void met his gaze.
He crawled back into the room much
more quickly than ho had gone out,
whispering:
"Patsey, tie one o' your shoes to do
rope till wo see is it long enough to
reach de groun."
The leather plummet was swung off
into space by Mike, who turned a min
ute later and whispered eagerly:
"I felt de shoe hit de groun, Patsey.
Do rope's long enough."
Then the natural fear caused by the
darkness and tho thought of hanging by
a thin cord against a cold wall sixty feet
high began to have its effect. Miko
crawled back into tho room again, and
with white face and chattering teeth
said:
"Patsey, you go down fust. You're
lighter den I am. Do rope might break
wid me, an den you couldn't git down.
See?"
Patsey did not see tho selfishness of
the proposal, but he was frank enough
to say, "Dat's all right, Mike, but I'm
afraid!" #
"Of course you're afraid," sneered
Miko in a tense whisper. "I knovved
THE CRUEL CORD CUT INTO IIIS HANDS,
you'd be afraid. You ain't got 110 sand.
I might V knowed better den to wake
you up."
The shrieking of tho March wind
seemed to rise to a shout of uproarious
laughter, in which little Patsey could
hear the stinging reproach: 'You're
afraid! You're afraid! You're afraid!"
It began to look as if tho project would
have to be abandoned, when tho patter
of bare feet was faintly heard on tho
. floor, and another boy joined tho group.
"What's youse mugs doin?" asked a
thin, piping voice,
j "Oh, go back to bed, Pudgeen Reilly,"
1 faid Mike angrily.
sl<-
Vk 0Q H tlie brqiuAl U,< - 10 me
TouJuam of'p e g®seSj, ..
3c| ,1 "& i
"Come off de perch, Mike," said Pud
geen. "I won't give de snap away. Lem- j
me in, will ye?"
An idea occurred to Mike. Pudgeen
was lighter by several pounds than either
Patsey or himself. Turning to l._in Uo
said:
"Pudgeen, we're goin down a rope to
de groun to march wid de Hibernians in
de St. Patrick's Day parade tomorrer. 1
De bands'U play, an de flags'll be flyin,
an do drums an de fifes'U mako music.
"Dat's so," exclaimed Pudgeen. "I
want to go. Lemme in wid ye, will ye,
Mike?"
"Course wo will, Pudgeen," said Pat
soy. "Git on yer clo'cs and bring yer
shoes in yer hand."
Scarcely a minute elapsed before Pud
geen was hack at the window with his
"d'YE SEE 'EM, PATSEY?"
shoes in his hand. But the conspirators
wero too shrewd to permit Pudgeen to
look out of tho window before he began
the descent. They lifted him up with
his feet ontward, and with eager, sup
pressed voices exclaimed:
"Now, Pudgeen, hang on tight an slide
down to de groun. We'll fire yer shoes
nfter yer."
Pudgeen slid over tho sill into the
darkness. Tho cruel cord cut into his
hands as ho went slowly downward.
The strong gusts of wind caught and
swayed him backward and forward un
til he spun around. Mike was leaning
out of the window calling to him gently,
"Hang tight! Hang tight!" until ho
disappeared in the darkness. Nearly a
ininuto had elapsed when the cord sud
denly loosened. Pudgeen had slid safely
to within twenty feet of the ground,
when the rope broke. He fell, and, strik
ing his head against the building, rolled
unconscious on the ground. His fright
ened cry was caught up by tho wind us
it fell, so that it was inaudible to the
boys above. When the rope slackened
Mike exclaimed joyfully;
"Now, didn't I tell ye 'twas all right?
Pudgeen's de stuff! Now it's your turn,
Patsey."
Patsey would have retreated even now,
but the fear of being called a coward
nerved his heart, and a minute later he,
too, was swaying like a pendulum be
tween earth and heaven. Patsey came
to the end of tho dangling rope before he
knew it and dropped off as easily as an
overripe apple drops from a tree. Fortu
nately he fell upon his foet, somewhat
shocked, but unhurt, and looked up in
time to see Mike begin the perilous jour
ney, just after ho had thrown a ruin of
shoos out of the window. Putsoy tried
to warn Mike of his danger, but the wind
was rioting so boisterously that he could
not make himself heard, and Mike, too,
plumped down and rolled over unhurt.
Strangely enough, neither one of the hoys
noticed tho unconscious form of Pud
geen. Thinking ho had preceded them
ovor tho higli wall, they quickly started
to follow him. Miko was able to find
only one shoe in the darkness, and so lie
1 escaped with ono foot covered only with
u stocking. But what are slioeß or food
j or drink when liberty beckons?
Far off in tho distant sky were the
twinkling lights of the glorious city
dimly shining through the rain. With
eager, stumbling feet they ran farther
and farther away from the hated stone
building until out of breath. Then they
i turned and looked back. Lights were
shining in the windows of the big black
building. Their flight had been discov
ered by the watchman when he made his
midnight tour. The boys knew that the
mounted police would soon be in hot
pursuit, and BO they started on again.
With bruised feet and panting breasts,
onward they staggered, and ever nearer
came the golden lights.
"Dat's Harlem," gasped Mike. "Keep
in de dark, Patsey! Keep in do dark!
As soon as wo gets to do lights I'll show
ye how to giv' de coppers de slip!"
* * * * # *
The morning of St. Patrick's Day
broke cheerless and cold. The rain was
still falling. The streets were ankle deep
in mud and water. Over an iron grat
ing in tlio sidewalk on Park row, through
which came blasts of hot air from the
cellars under a big printing office, stood
two boys. Both were splashed with mud,
and one wore only ouo shoe. But the
youthful faces were flushed with a joy
which made them almost radiant. From
far up the street came tho blissful music
; of "St. Patrick's Day in the Morning,"
and tho little ears hungering for melody
drank it in as a sponge absorbs water,
j "De purcesgion is a-comin, Patsey!"
gasped Mike breathlessly. Then as the
; marching men swept around the corner
ho continued: "Dere's do Hiliernians, an
dere's do St. Patricks! D'ye see 'ein,
| Patsey? Ha, ain't doy great! T'ree
j cheers fer St. Patrick! Come on, Patsey;
1 le's git behind!"
And together these waifs, drinking in
tho sweets of liberty, hungry, yet happy,
marched down the muddy streets behind
tho procession and sang in unison to the
amusement of the veterans in front:
Wo shouldered guns and marched and inarched
away.
From Baxter street way up to Avenya A.
Do drums and ftfea did sweetly, sweetly play
As wo marched, marched, marched behind de
band.
| Through all the morning hours they
kept pace with tho men, triumphant,
' ecstatic. But such gladness was too
I good to last, for the mounted police
I bore down upon them like eagles and
I carried them back to tho big stone
i building, tired out, but exultant. And
as the keeper received them with a stern
face they looked up defiantly and Patsey
said:
| "We had a great time ennyhow. We
i marched wid de St. Patrick's parade,
1 an we don't care if we do git a lickin,
do we, Mike?"
St. Patrick's Virtues.
Whatever else may be said about St.
Patrick, all the world will have to admit,
nom. dis., that ho was a gentleman sans
peur sans rejiroche. There was nothing
cheap, tawdry or commonplace in liis
composition. As a scholar he was a
I wonder, as a cleric ho was nonpareil, as
a bishop he was peorless and as a saint
he was an ornament to the calendar.
Swift and tho Lawyers.
Dean Swift having preached an "as
size sermon" was invited to dine with
the judge. He had borne rather hard on
tho legal profession in his sermon, and
iviv 11 uy 1
the legal gentlemen retorted hi kind be
foro tho dinner was over. One young
barrister asked this question:
"If tho dovil were to die, your rever
ence, do yon not believe a priest could
be found who would preach the funeral
sermon for money?"
, "Yes," was the reply, "and I would
, gladly be the man. Then I could give
, the dev.il his due, as I have this day done
bis children."
FREELAND'S PARADE.
The cold weather that prevails here |
today is not looked upon with much i
favor by the people who intend to pa
rade tomorrow, but the majority of
paraders prefer a cold day to one such
as would result if the snow and slush
was being warmed up and transformed
to mud. The streets of the town are in
a pretty fair condition, considering that
they had from three to five feet of snow
on them not many days ago. In the
Points a little better appearance might
be made if some of the surplus snow was
removed.
If the weather does not become too
cold or stormy it is very probable that a
nice parade will take place. The pro
gramme, which is published again today,
contains the Young Men's T. A. B. So
ciety, which was accidentally omitted
on Monday, also St. Mary's T. A. B. So
ciety, of Eckley. The following is the
order and route of parade:
FIRST DIVISION.
Grand Marshal—Rev. M. J Fallihee.
Aids,
Kdw. P. Gallagher, M. J. Moran.
Clergy in Carriages.
St. Patrick's Cornet Band.
St. Patrick's Beneficial Society.
St. Ann's T. A. B. Society.
St. Ann's Cadets.
Freeland Drum Corps.
Young Men's T. A. B. Society.
Pioneer Drum Corps.
St. Ann's T. A. B. Pioneer Corps.
Shamrock Drum Corps.
St. Mary's T. A. B. Cadets,
Eckley.
St. Mary's T. A. B. Society,
Eckley.
Liberty Drum Corps.
Division (>,
Ancient Order of Hibernians,
Board of Erin,
Freeland.
Parishioners.
SECOND DIVISION.
Young Men's Slavonian Band.
St. John's Slavonian Society.
Garibaldi Italian Beneficial Society.
Polish Cornet Band.
Kosciusko Guards.
Pulaski Guards.
St. Kasimer's Polish Society.
THIRD DIVISION.
St. Gabriel's Cornet Band.
Division l<>,
Ancient Order of Hibernians,
American Board,
Hazleton.
Eckley Drum Corps.
Division 20,
Ancient Order of Hibernians,
American Board,
Ecklev.
P. 0. S. of A. Band.
Division 19,
Ancient Order of Hibernians,
American Board,
Freeland.
Societies of Freeland will assemble at
their halls at 1 o'clock and proceed to
St. Ann's church, from whiqh place the
grand marshal will he escorted at 1.30
o'clock to the Lehigh Valley station,
where the visiting societies will be met
on the train by the aids and assigned to
their positions in line.
First division will form on Ridge
street, right resting on Luzerne; second
will form on Carbon street, right resting
on Ridge, and the third on Centre, right
resting on south side of Carbon. The
parade will move promptly at 2 o'clock
over the following route:
Up Ridge street to Chestnut, down
Chestnut to Washington, down Wash
ington to Carbon, up Carbon to Centre,
up Centre to Walnut and counternarch
to Carbon, where the parade will be dis
missed.
Societies not assigned to any position
will report to the aids immediately after
their arrival at the place of formation. I
Ireland.
Why cull her a beautiful island,
And revel in her fields of green,
And dote on her harp and shamrock,
And name her the "Island Queen?' 1
She is a slave; on the winds I hear it,
And the sound is a wail to my ear,
Although I have never seen her.
And know not why she is dear.
Why tell of her beautiful waters,
Of her skies so heavenly fair,
Of Inr mountains, her hills and her valleys.
And long in your heart to be there?
The groan that her broken heart utters
Has burst like a bomb in the air.
And its fragments are scattered wherever
A child of her soil breathes a prayer.
Why tell of the many who loved her,
And fought for her freedom in vain,
Who lived exiles far away from her
In prisons, in fetters, and chains?
My heart grows faint at the hearing,
And I wonder why it is so;
For my fathers sought freedom in exile
More than sixty long years ago.
Why love the low hut by the roadside.
Which is all the slave mother can give,
And long for the walls aiul the rafters
Of a home where you cannot live?
Well indeed have you loved her,
Slave and ull that she be,
And triumphantly may you yet place her
Among the lands of the free.
Caroline Kingsley, Alloghaney, Pa.
When Baby was sick, wo gave her Caatoria.
When she was a Child, she cried for Castoria.
When she became Miss, she clung to Castoria.
When she had Children, she gave them Castoria.
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