The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, 25 October 1917, Page 3

The Storyteller

(By D. P. Conyngham, LL.D.)

THE O’DONNELLS OF GLEN COTTAGE A TALE OF THE FAMINE YEARS IN IRELAND.

CHAPTER XVIII.—THE REV. MR. SLY’S CHARITY. Lizzie Ellis became most zealous in aiding the Rev. Mr. Sly in his missionary labors; they visited the neighboring cottages of the poor together. They , distributed meal and soup, and tracts to the righteous, and advised the obstinate to forsake their worship of idols, and to embrace the purity of Protestantism. Owing to the pressure of the time some were unable to resist the temptation, but they were few indeed. It is a fearful trial, no doubt, to see one’s wife and children for days without eating a morsel of food, except cresses and turnip-tops, and the like, and then to be offered food and raiment, but to put on the semblance of apostacy; yet thousands preferred death. These men must be actuated by a Christian spirit who could hold bread to the lips of the starving poor, and then snatch it away, because they would not forsake their religion ; this is the charity of loving your neighbor as yourself. There is many a heartless Dives in this world, whose idea of “who’s my neighbor?” is—“every rich and respectable person, whose religion and politics are in accordance with my own.” As to the poor wandering outcasts, the houseless poor, these little ones of our Great Master, he knows them not. Ah! Dives, when you look upon your splendid house, your fertile fields, and ample stores, think on the parable of the rich glutton and the poor man, and consider that yon naked, trembling wretch, is, perhaps, dearer to the Lord, than you, who are clad in “purple and fin© linen.” Think that the great Law-giver has said: “As often as you give to these little ones, you give unto Me.” His followers were both Jews and Gentiles, for He came to save all that obey His laws. The works on Knockcorrig had commenced, and liberal wages were given. The old and young, men, women, and children, sought work there. Children were employed there so young, that they had to be brought on their parents’ backs, and old persons had to be carried by asses. This was in the middle of a severe winter; the ground was covered with snow; sleet and snow and rain drenched the wretched creatures. The old and young were put to breaking stones. There they sat, from morning until night, their bodies half naked, and the rain and snow and sleet pouring upon them. It is no wonder, then, that fever and dysentery were prevalent, and that each morning several were crossed off the books without the least comment or remarkthey were dead, that’s all. ... The Rev. Mr. Sly frequently drove about from house to house. Lord Clearall’s tenants had to receive him with seeming courtesy at least; they knew the consequences too well if they acted otherwise. Even now a fresh screw was placed upon such as refused sending their children to the “souper school.” Not only were they threatened to be evicted, but they were also refused employment on the public works. This was easily managed, as Lord Clearall’s deputies had the sole management of them. So, it was easy to find some pretence for refusing the obstinate. Mr. Sly had the seat of his gig crammed with Bibles and tracts; he also had a quantity of bread and broken meat. Lizzie Ellis sat beside him. “What way shall we go to-day, Lizzie?” said Mr. Sly, as they were going out of the avenue. “I don’t well know. What would you say if we called on that Mrs. Sullivan ? She was with me this morning ; her son was on the works, but was sent home, as she wouldn’t send the other children to The school; she wanted me to get him back.” " " ,

“Do you think ha# the Lord moved her; is she penitent, Lizzie?” “She looks to be very poor. I'm , sure she is; for I told her there was no use interfering unless she let the others go to school. She said nothing, but sighed.” “What a stiff-necked people they are, love; but God hardens those He will destroy.” Nelly Sullivan was sitting at the table with her poor children ; before them was a dish of turnip-tops and cabbage leaves, sprinkled with salt. The children ate ravenously of this coarse fare. “Mammy, won’t you ate any?” said one. “No, alanna, no; ate away; shure there’s not enuff for yerselfs.” “But, mammy, you were walking all the mornin’ ; shure you’re hungry, and you didn’t ate anything these two days.” The mother looked at the coarse food, unfit for pigs, and her eyes glistened; she then looked at her wretched children, and she turned away as the tears trickled down her withered cheeks. “No,” said she to herself; “bad as it is, they haven’t enuff. God help them ! My God, I’m dying” ; and she squeezed her hands upon her sides, and sat upon an old stool. “Oh! mammy, mammy! it is so tough I can’t ate it; it’s choking me,” said one little thing. “And me too,” said another, “Oh ! if we had a bit of bread or a sup of milk, or a pratie,” said another. “Here, pet,” said Johnny, a little boy about twelve years; “here,” and he picked the softest bits for the youngest. He then got some and took it to his mother. “Here, mother, ate this,” said he, and he placed the coarse food in her hand. She groaned. He rubbed her face—it was covered with a cold sweat. “Mammy, mammy, what ails you?” shouted the boy. “Oh, mammy is dying!” he exclaimed. The others ran to her, clasping their little hands, and calling their mammy. “Johnny,” said she faintly, “brink me a drink.” He brought her a vessel of water, from which she drank; she then ate some of the leaves. “What ails you, mammy?” said a little thing, nestling at her knees, and placing her tiny hands in here. “Nothing, pet; nothing. lam well now,” and the poor woman stroked the little flaxen head. “Oh, mammy, here’s a lady and jintleman !” said another, as he saw Mr. Sly drive to the door. “Thank God !” said she, clasping her hands and looking up. “I hope they have come to save us.” “Good-day, ma’am!” said Mr. Sly. “This is a miserable place, ma’am” ; and he looked about the wretched cabin in a most commiserating manner. “Indeed it is, sir,” said Mrs. Sullivan, with a curtsy. “It is a poor place for a lady and jintleman to come to ; but then, if people can keep from starving now, it’s enuff. lam sorry I haven’t a sate for the lady,” and she bowed to Miss Ellis. “Don’t mind, ma’am,” said Mr. Sly; “we can stand. Would you let this little chap hold my horse for a moment?” _ -“Yes, sir. Run, Johnny, and hould the jintleman’s horse.” Miss Ellis was’ all. this time taking a view of the cabin. The roof was broken in several parts, and the rain had formed into little pools on the clay floor. In - a corner a bed of straw lay on the cold ground. A vessel was placed in the bed to receive the dropping rain. There was an inner room, but it was deserted, as being unfit to be occupied, for the roof had nearly fallen in. _ A few embers burned on the hearth, and the emaciated/ half-clad looking children, crowded around it. , ■ Miss Ellis knew little of the poor; caged in her father s splendid house, surrounded by every luxury, she wondered why the people should be poor at all, or have such wretched hovels to live in. It was only lately

she began to comprehend the causes that made them so As she accompanied Mr. Sly, her young and sensitive heart was touched at the tales and scenes of misery she had heard' and witnessed. She might have become a ministering angel; but her artful guide smothered these aspirations of gentle pity in her breast by telling her that all their -sufferings were sent by the Lord to afflict them for their sins, and to lead them to righteousness. “How do you live here at all, ma’am?” said Lizzie, as she glanced at all the signs of wretchedness that surrounded her. “Really, I don’t know, miss; we haven’t had a bit these two days but somd cabbage and turnip leaves. I didn’t ate a bit myself to-day. God knows lam starving !” Run, Robert,” said Lizzie to the Rev. Mr. Sly, and bring them some bread. You see we have some with us, ma’am, for urgent cases.” “God bless you, miss!” said Mrs. Sullivan. “Go, Robert, if you please?” said Lizzie, turning to the rev. gentleman, who all the time stood still. “Yes, darling, yes; but first let us see, has this pom* woman seen the error of her ways, and is she moved to grace? lam sure ” Here his speech was interrupted by a regular scramble at the door, and cries of “Give me a bit!” “Tom has it all!” “Bring it into mammy.” “Bless me!” said Mr. Sly, “but these brats have taken all the bread”; and he ran to the door. Johnny got into the gig, and seeing a loaf of bread, and hearing the lady telling Mr. Sly to bring it in, he seized it, and was bringing it when the others assailed him at the door. “The brats !” exclaimed Mr. Sly, as he seized the bread. “Here, mamma,” whispered Tommy, as he slipped a part of the loaf, unseen, under her apron, “ate this.” r She was hungry. Perhaps that crust of bread might save her life. Who could blame her if she paused. She then drew forth the bread “No, child, no. It’s not ours; it would be sinful; give it to the jintleman.” “Here, sir,” said Tommy, handing him the bread. Mr. Sly took it and placed it in the car. “Leave it to him,” said Lizzie. “No; it would be encouraging robbery, Lizzie. Well, my good woman,” said Mr. Sly, “your son was turned off the works?” “Yis, your honor.” “Your reverence, ma’am, if you please,” said Mr. Sly with a bow. “I think, ma’am, he must have deserved it; you see he’s a dishonest boy; how soon he stole the bread.” “I never knew him to act dishonestly, your ho—— riverence I mane. I’m shure he wouldn’t take the bread but he heard the lady telling you to bring it in.” “Indeed I wouldn’t, mammy,” said Johnny; “and shure I was bringing it in to the jintleman when they stuck in me.” " “Likely story, that; no matter, I will see about getting him reinstated.” “God Almighty bless your riverence!” said the poor woman. “But,.ma’am, you must send these other children to my school, where they will be well treated. They will be educated and fed for you for nothing, so you ought to be grateful, ma’am.” Mrs. Sullivan did not look grateful,' but held down her head and wept. “Well, ma’am?” said the Rev. Mr. Sly. “I can’t do it, sir; I’ll starve first, and God knows I am near enuff to it already. Oh ! give us some bread, sir, and get work for my boy, and may God reward you. Oh, Miss Ellis, will you aid the poor widow, “and her blessing fall upon your head?” > '~ i ?'Do, Robert, do,” said Lizzie. - .- T k “Well, ma’am, do you repent said ; Mr. Sly.

“I can’t—l can’t sell my sowl. Shure the priests told us- not; that ,ye are trying to make soupers of us all.” “The priests, ma’am, are a great humbug; teaching you to adore idols and worship saints and living people like ourselves.” “No, —your rivereuce T mean—the priests are our only comfort; they visit us when sick and afflicted; and if they had the means we wouldn’t want.” “So you refuse sending them to hear the word of God!” “I refuse sending them to your school, sir.” “Then the consequences be upon yourself. You are refusing warm clothing, plenty to eat, and a snug house. Recollect, sinful woman, ‘ I called and you refused.’— ‘ Evil-doers shall be cut off.’ I will now leave you to yourself and your priests. Mind, you will not only be refused employment, but this very house shall be levelled, over you. This is Lord Clearall’s orders.” f . “God’s will be done said Mrs. Sullivan, clasping her hands together and looking towards heaven. “Come, Lizzie,” said Mr. Sly “let us leave this house of iniquity. Here, however, is food for your soul,” and he handed her some tracts. Lizzie was following him when Mrs. Sullivan threw herself on her knees, and seized her dress, exclaiming ; “Oh, Miss Ellis! for the love of God, don’t let them ruin the poor widow and her orphans. lam dyin’ with hunger : oh ! get us work or something to atedo, and may God reward and bless you, and mark you to grace. As for that bad man, may y y “Don’t curse, ma’am,” said Lizzie, slipping a shilling into her hand, “and I’ll do my best for you.” “God bless you, my sweet young lady!” “Come, come, Miss Ellis, it’s time to go,” said Mr. Sly. Lizzie got into the gig, and was quite reserved. Mr. Sly noticed this, and said: “Cover yourself well, love, the day is very cold ; allow me to put this rug about you. I declare it went to my heart to refuse that poor family ; but, then, we have a duty to perform; if •we' allow them to set us at defiance this way we could do nothing. I’ll bet you she will come to terms; now when hunger will press on her to-night, she’ll send them to school to-morrow ; see what a victory that’ll be if hot, I’ll do something for them, since you wish it, love ..“Do, Robert, do; perhaps you’re right, but, then they are so poor.” “They are poor, no doubt; so is almost every one you meet.” 4 “Somehow, Robert, I feel an interest in that poor woman, no matter how obstinate she is: ‘ The Most High is a patient re warder,’ and shall judge us according, to our good deeds.” “My little love, you’ll shortly be able to preach Scripture as well as myself; you’ll make a brave little missionary.” “I hope so,” said Lizzie, recovering her good humor. Mr. Sy had not gone far, when another visitor entered Mrs. Sullivan’s cabin. She had a basket under her arm.

“ “Good-evening, ma’am,” said she, in a soft voice. “Good-evening kindly, and you’re welcome, Miss O’Donnell,” said Mrs. Sullivan. Kate O’Donnell took the basket from under her cloak*, and brought forth plenty of bread and .meat. “Here, Mrs. Sullivan,” said she, “perhaps you are in want, for who is otherwise now ? and on account of family troubles of my own, I was not able to visit you some days back.” “We all have our troubles. Miss Kate. I didn’t ate a morsel these two days/’ “God help us!” said Kate; “here, eat some now,” and she placed the food before her. After eating a few bits, Mrs. Sullivan fell back in a faint. Kate sprinkled her with water, and she soon recovered and partook of the food. She then told her all about the Rev. Mr. Sly’s visit. “God help us!” said Kate, “it is a wretched country, where men, calling themselves ministers of God, can trade on the misery of the poor.” “Shure it’s too bad, Miss Kate, to try to make us sell our souls, to keep our bodies alive.” “It is, Nelly— is so monstrous that even honest Protestants and true ministers blush with shame.” “Why, isn’t Mr. Sly a minister, Miss Kate?” “Indeed, from all I have heard of him, I should think not; if he were, I would expect Rim to be a gentleman, but I suspect he’s only some low Scripturereader.” “Very likely, Miss Kate; he’s not a jintlemau nor a Christian anyway.” “Well,. Nelly, what do you mean to do?” “I don’t know, Miss Kate; I fear I must go into the poor-house. I know they won’t give me employment.” “I fear so, Nelly; and only that times are changed with us, you should never go there ; however, I fear it is your only course now. I can do very little for you our stock is seized, and, perhaps, we will be shortly without a house, like yourself.” “God forbid, Miss Kate; ye were good and charity able, and God will not forsake ye.” “I hope not, Nelly, I hope not; though I always look little pride in riches, I long for them now when I see so many dying around me. It is only yesterday, Frank went into a cabin in the bog, where he was fowling; there he found a poor woman dead, and two children sucking her breast.” . “Thanks be to God! that’s frightful,” and Nelly cast a look at her own poor children. “Nelly, as my father is a guardian, if you wish to go into the houseand I fear you must — get him to put you in.” “Thank you, Miss Kate, I’ll think of it.” The Rev. Mr. Sly passed by Knockcorrig, on his way to the school; seeing so many ragged, wretched creatures together, he could not lose the opportunity of giving them a lecture on the evil of their ways. He drew up his gig in the midst of them. A suppressed murmur ran through the crowd. He alighted, and Adam Steen held his bridle. “Here is the souper parson.” “The devil take him, and shure he will some fine day.” :-V.' - /. ■ ' • “I wish we could give him his due,” was muttered by the crowd. ; , “Brethren,” drawled the Rev. Mr. Sly, and took and opened a Bible. Hammers rapped stones, and spades and shovels were set to work with such vigor as to drown his voice. - - , >“ “Mr. Pembert, I think you ought to order these , men to stop work while the word of God is preached to them.” “Lay down your tools and listen/’ said Mr. Pembert. The men sulkily obeyed. • “I thought these men were here to do government work, and not to be preached to,” said a Catholic steward. r> V U > -%■. “What's his name, Mr. Pembert?” said Mr. Sly; / “Willidm Fogarty; he’s a steward.” ' ; ;

Mr. Sly took out a pencil, and wrote down, “William Fogarty, steward.” Vl ; : . i h “Had Lord Ciearall anything to do with his ap- " pointment ' ' " ' “Yes, sir.” Mr. Sly wrote down again, and then said—- “ Young man, I’m sent here by his lordship and his excellent agent; I shall let them know of your conduct.” The young man thought for a moment ; he had an aged father and mother and two young sisters dependent upon his hire; if he were to act as a man what would become of them ? A blush of shame and indignation mantled upon his cheeks, and the tears rose to his eyes, as he muttered—“l didn’t mean to offend you, sir ; I hope you’ll overlook any hasty word I saicT.” “Well, well, I’m glad to see you repent; I’ll consider it.” The young man turned and muttered—“Oh, my God, how we are scourged!” “Brethren, the Scripture tells us that, ‘if the blind lead the blind, both will fall into the ditch’ now, ye are in the blindness of sin, and quacks, that are as blind as yourself, pretend to lead ye. ‘They are glad when they have done evil,’ sayeth the proverb; so with your priests, they sow the seed of iniquity in men’s hearts, that they might empty their pockets, but the Scripture says, ‘Evil doers shall be cut off.’ Our Saviour called each servant to account for the talents entrusted to his care. Now, what could your priests say; they are living in idleness?” “Oh, oh!” murmured the people. , “Hould your tongue, you schamin villain,” shouted some man from behind. - “Shut your thrap.” “Go, preach to Miss Ellis, behind the ould chap’s back,” said another. “Faith, he’s practising betther than he’ preaching, there,” said another. “Who could blame the stharved divil,” said a little thin fellow, almost without a rag upon him. Mr. Sly looked horrified. Miss Ellis wondered what it all meant, and asked Mr. Sly to come into the gig, and drive away. “No, Miss Ellis I have a duty to perform, and I will,” said he, heroically. “I tell every one of ye,” said Mr. Pembert, “if I hear another word from ye, I’ll stop the work and send ye home, so take your choice.” “Shure he’s abusing the phriests, that always sthuck to us.” “Take your choice now, go on, Mr. Sly.” “Ye all know that your priests will not do anything without payment. It is with them as if I were travelling, and lost my way, and fell into a deep pit I chance to catch some branches on the edge, and cling to them; a man is passing; I call to him, for the love of God to pull me up. He asks me, ‘Have you a half-crown?’ ‘No.’ ‘Oh, well go down, I can’t help you.’ So your priests will let you go where you like, if you haven’t the money. Again, they tell ye that no one will get to heaven but Catholics, as if Christ did not shed his saving blood for all Christians. Now, let us take a parable, when, say Mr. Ellis dies, ho will go to the gates of heaven ; Saint Peter will ask, ‘Who are you?’ ‘I am Mr. Ellis, sir.’ ‘What kind •of life did you lead?’ ‘A good, charitable life; gave every man his due, and wronged no man.’ ” Here there was a general titter at the picture he drew of Mr. Ellis’s life. “Faith,” muttered one, “I think he’ll scarcely ‘ see the gates at all.”

(To be continued.)