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authorRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-15 02:15:06 -0700
committerRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-15 02:15:06 -0700
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+ <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+ <title>
+ The Project Gutenberg eBook of Live To Be Useful, by Anonymous.
+ </title>
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+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Live to be Useful, by Anonymous
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Live to be Useful
+ or, The Story of Annie Lee and her Irish Nurse
+
+Author: Anonymous
+
+Release Date: March 30, 2008 [EBook #24956]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIVE TO BE USEFUL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Sam W. and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 430px;">
+<img src="images/ltbu01.jpg" width="430" height="600"
+alt="Cover of the book" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h1 style="padding-top: 3em;">LIVE<br />
+TO BE USEFUL</h1>
+
+<p class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;">OR,</p>
+
+<h2 style="padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 3em;"><i>THE STORY OF ANNIE LEE AND<br />
+HER IRISH NURSE.</i></h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 199px;">
+<img src="images/ltbu02.png" width="199" height="100"
+alt="Floral decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="center" style="padding-top: 3em;"><i>THOMAS NELSON AND SONS</i><br />
+<i>London, Edinburgh, Dublin, and New York</i><br />
+<i>1913</i></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 402px;">
+<img src="images/ltbu03.jpg" width="402" height="600"
+alt="Annorah and Annie sit together outside on a bench" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">Annorah turned, and saw the shadow of a man on
+the sloping rock.<br />
+<i>Page <a href="#Page_25">25</a>.</i></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of contents">
+ <tr>
+ <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I.</b></a></td>
+ <td class="tdl">ANNIE&rsquo;S PLAN.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II.</b></a></td>
+ <td class="tdl">ANNORAH&rsquo;S FIRST APPEARANCE IN THE SICK-ROOM.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III.</b></a></td>
+ <td class="tdl">ANNORAH LEARNS TO READ.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV.</b></a></td>
+ <td class="tdl">THE PRIEST MEETS ANNORAH AT HER MOTHER&rsquo;S COTTAGE.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V.</b></a></td>
+ <td class="tdl">PHELIM BRINGS BAD TIDINGS TO ANNORAH.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI.</b></a></td>
+ <td class="tdl">THE CONFESSIONAL&mdash;AN IRISH FROLIC.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII.</b></a></td>
+ <td class="tdl">BIDDY DILLON BECOMES A &ldquo;HERETIC.&rdquo;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII.</b></a></td>
+ <td class="tdl">ANNIE&rsquo;S DEATH&mdash;ANNORAH&rsquo;S PROSPECTS.</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg&nbsp;5]</a></span></p>
+
+<h1 style="padding-top: 3em;">LIVE TO BE USEFUL.</h1>
+
+
+
+<h2 style="padding-top: 3em;"><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>ANNIE&rsquo;S PLAN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Annie Lee was a cripple. Until her
+eighth summer she had been strong
+and well, like most other children;
+but then disease began to appear,
+and although she had skilful doctors
+and kind nurses, it was soon too
+plain that she was never to be well again.</p>
+
+<p>Five years of pain and weakness had been her
+portion at the time our story commences. So
+accustomed had she become to her sad situation,
+that it seemed like a delusive dream when she
+remembered the sportive hours of her earlier
+childhood. Like other sick children, she was
+far more thoughtful than was quite natural at
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg&nbsp;6]</a></span>
+her age, and very seldom in her easiest moments
+laughed aloud. But she was not an unhappy
+child.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as she was old enough to understand
+that she had a sinful heart and needed salvation,
+she had earnestly sought the Saviour of sinners,
+and had been graciously received by him, and
+made a lamb of his flock. In the school of Christ
+she learned to bear pain without murmuring, and
+to submit with cheerfulness to her lot in life.
+Instead of requiring comfort from her parents,
+who seemed to realize her misfortune more fully
+than she did herself, she became their consoler,
+and rarely failed in her efforts to lighten their
+sorrow on her account.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It might have been so much worse, mamma,&rdquo;
+she said one day, when Mrs. Lee was lamenting
+her condition. &ldquo;Only think of poor lame Phelim,
+Biddy Dillon&rsquo;s little boy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is the matter with him?&rdquo; asked her
+mother.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you not seen him? He is often in the
+back-yard when Biddy comes to wash in the
+kitchen. I&rsquo;ve watched him often. I think it
+was before he came to this country&mdash;but I&rsquo;m not
+sure&mdash;that a large stone, falling from a wall, so
+mangled his poor limbs that one of them had to
+be cut off. I never see him limping about on
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg&nbsp;7]</a></span>
+his crutches while Biddy is washing without
+thanking God for my happier fate.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Annie, it is not probable that he suffers
+one-half as much as you do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As much <em>pain</em>, do you mean, mamma?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wasn&rsquo;t thinking of that. They are very
+poor; and if he lives to be a man, how can he
+earn the comforts of life? I need have no care
+on that account.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I daresay he has none. There are several
+trades that he might learn which require a sitting
+posture; he might be a shoemaker, for instance.
+Do not fret on his account, Annie.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It seems to me, mamma,&rdquo; replied Annie,
+with a thoughtful air, &ldquo;that his only prospect
+for the future is to be pushed about here and
+there in the crowd, until at last he finds a refuge
+in the grave.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What foolish fancies!&rdquo; said Mrs. Lee, rising,
+as a noise in the yard below attracted her to the
+window. &ldquo;We know nothing about the future,
+and it is not quite right to make ourselves sad
+about it. It is hardly like your usual trust in
+God, to be thus imagining trouble. There&rsquo;s a
+little lame boy in the yard, who, I suppose, is
+Phelim; he seems happy enough. Hark! don&rsquo;t
+you hear him sing? He is sitting on the bench
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg&nbsp;8]</a></span>
+behind the clothes-frame, and his mother is
+hanging out the clothes to dry. Don&rsquo;t you hear
+her laugh at what he is singing?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is it, mamma? Can you hear the
+words?&rdquo; asked Annie, brightening up, and raising
+herself on her elbow as she lay on her low
+couch.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hear them very well; but his Irish gibberish
+is as Greek to me. All that I can make out
+is what seems to be the chorus:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&lsquo;O Ireland, green Ireland,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Swate gem o&rsquo; the sae!&rsquo;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mamma,&rdquo; said Annie, after listening with
+smiling interest a while, &ldquo;it troubles me very
+often because Phelim knows nothing about our
+Saviour. He has a sister, two years older than
+I am, who cannot read. She never went to
+school; and none of the family can read a word.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did you learn this?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;From Phelim. I speak to him sometimes
+when he plays under the window.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I don&rsquo;t know how we can help them.
+If we should offer to teach them, they would not
+be willing to learn.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you sure of it, mamma?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not quite so sure, perhaps, as if I had tried
+to instruct them; but I know that they regard a
+book as a sort of Protestant trap, made on
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg&nbsp;9]</a></span>
+purpose to catch them, soul and body. It is an evil
+that we cannot remedy.&mdash;Have you more pain
+than usual, my dear?&rdquo; said Mrs. Lee, appearing
+a little startled, and bending anxiously over
+Annie&rsquo;s couch as she observed an unusual flush
+on her pale cheek.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, mamma; but I was thinking of a plan
+that I have had for some weeks, and hoping that
+you would not object to it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Object! You shall have whatever you like,
+if it can be procured. What is it, Annie?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, dear mamma,&rdquo; said Annie, &ldquo;I do so long
+to do some good! I cannot bear to live such a
+useless life. Every day, when I feel the goodness
+of God and his great love to me, I long to
+do something for him. And I think, mamma,
+that I have planned a way to do good without
+getting off my sofa.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are always doing good, Annie. Do you
+suppose that your patience under suffering is
+not a lesson to us in our smaller trials? There
+are many ways in which you are a blessing
+to us all; so do not weary yourself with new
+schemes. If God had required active service
+from you, he would have given you health and
+strength.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But I can do something, mamma. Please
+to hear my plan. I want to tell you something
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg&nbsp;10]</a></span>
+more about Phelim&rsquo;s sister. She has been Mrs.
+Green&rsquo;s servant, and her business was to assist
+in the nursery. She would have done nicely,
+Phelim says, but for her violent temper. Last
+week one of the children was cross and provoking,
+and the girl got angry and pushed him down-stairs.
+He was much bruised; and, of course,
+she was dismissed at once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should hope so. But your plan, Annie?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The poor girl has no place, mamma, and,
+with such a dreadful temper, is not likely to get
+one soon. And they are very poor. I know
+that since Jessie left us, you are too closely confined
+here with me; and my plan is to have this
+poor girl to wait on me, and&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Annie, what a wild project!&rdquo; interrupted
+her mother. &ldquo;You must not think of it.
+She would be throwing you out of the window,
+or beating you to a jelly, in her first fit of ill-temper.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh no, she won&rsquo;t, mamma,&rdquo; urged Annie.
+&ldquo;She will not be so easily vexed here, and no
+one is ever angry with me. Please to try her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you really in earnest, Annie?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes; and very anxious to be indulged in my
+strange plan.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you thought how awkward she will be
+in assisting you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg&nbsp;11]</a></span>
+&ldquo;I have thought of it all, over and over,&rdquo; replied
+Annie, &ldquo;and I think she will make a good
+nurse for me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lee hesitated a long time. She could
+not bear to deny Annie, and could not overcome
+her dislike to the proposed arrangement.
+But Annie&rsquo;s pleading look at length decided
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You wish very much to try this wild-goose
+plan!&rdquo; she said, resuming the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very much, mamma,&rdquo; replied Annie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you shall have your own way about it.
+It will last but a few days, I am sure; and the
+change will interest you at any rate, poor thing!&rdquo;
+Then going to the window, she looked down into
+the yard, and said, &ldquo;Mrs. Dillon, come up to
+Miss Annie&rsquo;s room, will you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In a minute the woman made her appearance
+at the door, with the suds still lingering in foamy
+flakes upon her arms and along the folds of her
+apron.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have a daughter, I believe?&rdquo; said
+Mrs. Lee.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Two of them, an&rsquo; ye plaze, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; replied
+Biddy, wiping her arms as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are they both at home?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s Bessie that is in service; and it&rsquo;s only
+Annorah that&rsquo;s at home, shure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg&nbsp;12]</a></span>
+&ldquo;What is Annorah doing?&rdquo; inquired Mrs. Lee.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Doing?&rdquo; repeated Biddy wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I mean, how does she get her living?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At service too, ma&rsquo;am, when it is to be had.
+But, shure, it&rsquo;s a bad timper she has, and will
+sthrike and scold whin her blood is up. An&rsquo; she
+has lost the fine, comfortable place she had with
+Mrs. Green, jist for a thrifle of spaach.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is unfortunate.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, thin, ye may well say that. Anither
+mouth in a family like me own is far from convenient
+whin the cost of the mate and the flour
+is beyond raach intirely.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, Biddy, Miss Annie wants some one to
+wait on her in the place of Jessie, who has gone.
+She has taken a fancy to try your girl. When
+can she come?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Coom! Why, this very hour, an&rsquo; ye like.
+A blessin&rsquo; on yer swate, pale face!&rdquo; said Biddy,
+looking pityingly towards Annie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She must be gentler here,&rdquo; said Mrs. Lee;
+&ldquo;she must govern her temper. Miss Annie must
+not be excited and made worse by your girl&rsquo;s fits
+of ill-humour.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Leave her to me, mamma,&rdquo; said Annie. &ldquo;I
+think, Mrs. Dillon, that there will be no trouble.
+What did you say is her name?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Annorah, an&rsquo; ye plaze, miss.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg&nbsp;13]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Annorah? Very well. When shall she
+come, mamma?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not until Monday, I think,&rdquo; replied Mrs. Lee.
+Then turning to Mrs. Dillon, she added, &ldquo;You
+may send her on Monday.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; she gets a mad streak along o&rsquo; that pritty
+crathur,&rdquo; said Mrs. Biddy, as she went down-stairs,
+&ldquo;she desarves the warm bating she&rsquo;ll get
+from her own mother at home.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h3>ANNORAH&rsquo;S FIRST APPEARANCE IN THE SICK-ROOM.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Monday came, and Annorah came too. It was
+with a doubting heart and a troubled look that
+Mrs. Lee introduced her into her daughter&rsquo;s
+chamber. It would be difficult to find a plainer-looking
+or a more awkward girl.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lee looked at the monstrous foot in its
+heavy shoe, and at the thick, freckled hands,
+that seemed incapable of the gentle services that
+Annie&rsquo;s helplessness required, and wondered at
+her own folly in indulging the singular caprice of
+her daughter. But a single look at Annie assured
+her that she, at least, felt no misgivings. Still,
+she did not like to leave them by themselves
+until she had tested the new attendant&rsquo;s ability.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg&nbsp;14]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Annorah,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;what sort of work can
+you do? I&rsquo;m afraid you are not used to such
+services as Miss Annie will require.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can do most anything, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; answered
+the girl resolutely.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed! Well, let me see how you would
+manage to place Annie on the bed when she is
+tired of the sofa.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The words were scarcely out of her mouth
+before Annorah had lifted the frail form of the
+invalid in her arms and deposited her in the
+middle of the bed. Annie burst into such a
+laugh as she had not indulged in for a year.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think you may be satisfied, mamma,&rdquo; she
+said; &ldquo;I never was moved easier.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lee began to think better of Annie&rsquo;s
+plan, and joined quite cordially in her daughter&rsquo;s
+mirth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And if she were too tired to rest in any
+position, what would you do?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Carry her to the windows, or out in the air,
+for a change.&mdash;Will ye plaze to thry it, Miss
+Annie?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not now, Annorah.&rdquo; Then looking towards
+her mother, she said, &ldquo;Mamma, you may be
+easy; Annorah and I shall get on famously together.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus assured, Mrs. Lee left them, and went
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg&nbsp;15]</a></span>
+down-stairs with a better opinion of the rough
+Irish girl than she had thought it possible to
+entertain an hour previous.</p>
+
+<p>Left by themselves, the two girls began to
+form an acquaintance with each other. Two
+persons more unlike could not have been brought
+together. Annorah was evidently much interested
+in her young charge, and felt the most
+unbounded sympathy in her sufferings. Annie
+spoke first.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Please draw my couch nearer the window,
+Annorah. That will do. Now, sit down on this
+low stool, and tell me how long it is since you
+left Ireland.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s two years, miss, coom April.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So lately? Then you remember all about
+the old country?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Remember! An&rsquo; it&rsquo;s me that&rsquo;ll niver forget
+that same. The beautiful counthree it is!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pleasanter than this, do you think?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A thousand times. There is no place in the
+world like it; the dear ould counthree!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, then, did you leave it, Annorah?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bad luck we had, miss; and a worse luck
+intirely here, the mane town that this is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell me all about it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What for? That ye, too, may laugh like
+the rest, and call us the mane, dirty set of Irish
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg&nbsp;16]</a></span>
+vagabonds?&rdquo; asked the girl, her small eyes kindling
+with a sense of imaginary insult.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, no, Annorah. You don&rsquo;t think I would
+say such things, do you? But you need not tell
+me a word if you had rather not. I only thought
+it would make me forget my pain for a little
+time; and, besides, I love dearly to hear about
+Ireland, or any place where I have never been,&rdquo;
+said Annie, with a tone of voice so calm and
+earnest that the girl could not doubt her sincerity.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you, in truth? Why, thin, it&rsquo;s me
+that&rsquo;ll talk till I hoarse meself dumb for yer
+good. It was the famine, miss, that came first,
+and stole the bit o&rsquo; food that was saved. The
+praties were rotten in the field; and the poor
+pigs starved that should have helped us out wi&rsquo;
+the rint. Och, but it was a sore time o&rsquo; grief
+whin sorra a mouthful were left for the bit
+childer and the ould people who were weak
+before wi&rsquo; ould age! In the worst time o&rsquo; all,
+whin the need was the sorest, our Bessie got into
+disgrace, and came home from service wi&rsquo; niver a
+penny to help herself or us. There was nought
+to do and nought to eat at all. The neighbours
+were faint wi&rsquo; the hoonger; and so, before the
+worst came, we left all that was dear and came
+here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg&nbsp;17]</a></span>
+&ldquo;How many of you came, Annorah?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nine, miss, if we consider our uncles and
+cousins. We did not come altogether; brother
+John, who is dead, and uncle Mike, came first.
+And a fine chance to work they got directly,
+miss; and then they sent money to pay the old
+folk&rsquo;s passage. Our hearts gathered coorage and
+strength at once, miss, and we thought, shure,
+the great throubles were over. But the next
+vessel brought the bad news for us, and we
+forgot the glimmer of hope we had; for it
+was our own father dear who was dead o&rsquo; the
+cholera.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poor Annorah!&rdquo; exclaimed Annie pityingly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poor indade! But soon came the money for
+the rest; and much as we feared the deep wathers,
+the hoonger still pressed on us, and the sickness
+was every day striking down the stoutest, and so
+we all left Ireland but Bessie.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you like the passage across from Ireland?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, indade.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Were you sea-sick?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, miss. But we came in the steerage;
+and a crowded, dirthy place it was. The dirt
+was not so bad, for in the ould counthree it ofttimes
+gets the betther o&rsquo; us; but the men were
+either drunk or ill-nathured, and the women
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg&nbsp;18]</a></span>
+quarrelled, and the young ones were aye cross or
+sick; and a bad time they made of it all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you come directly here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; we stayed where we landed for seven
+weeks, till we got word to our cousin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And since you have been here, Annorah,
+what have you been doing? Have you been to
+school?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; the praste forbade.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poor thing! Then you cannot read?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How should I know reading, I&rsquo;d like to
+know? Who would teach me that same?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Many good people would like to do it, if you
+would like to learn.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m ower knowin&rsquo; for that, miss,&rdquo; replied
+Annorah, with a glance which betrayed that she
+was rather suspicious of Annie&rsquo;s good intentions.
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a mighty pity that readin&rsquo; was contrived at
+all, for it&rsquo;s the books that makes the black heretics
+o&rsquo; us. &lsquo;Let alone the books and the readin&rsquo;,&rsquo;
+said Father M&lsquo;Clane to me last evening,
+&lsquo;and confess to me faithfully all that ye hear in
+the grand Protestant family, an&rsquo; all will go well
+wi&rsquo; ye, Annorah,&rsquo; says he, &lsquo;now and for evermore.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Annie laughed pleasantly. &ldquo;And so you are
+to play the spy and the tattler; and however
+kindly we may treat you, you are to report all
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg&nbsp;19]</a></span>
+our sayings and doings to the priest? I don&rsquo;t
+believe, Annorah, that you can be mean enough
+for that, if you try. I thought the Irish people
+were too generous to act so low a part.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; so we are, shure. Sorra a bit will the
+praste get from me about you here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If he were a good man, a noble, honourable
+man,&rdquo; said Annie, &ldquo;do you think he would ask
+you&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s the praste!&rdquo; interrupted Annorah, her
+eyes flashing; &ldquo;the praste, is Father M&lsquo;Clane.
+An&rsquo; ye mind to spake well o&rsquo; him, it&rsquo;s nought
+I&rsquo;ve to say; an&rsquo; the tongue is a heretic&rsquo;s that
+would spake ill o&rsquo; him, and he laving the ould
+counthree to stay for our good in this haythen
+land. An&rsquo; the books an&rsquo; the readin&rsquo; were for the
+like o&rsquo; us, would he not be the first to bid us
+welcome to the same? Och, it&rsquo;s a good man and
+a holy is Father M&lsquo;Clane, say what ye will, miss.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have not called him otherwise,&rdquo; said Annie,
+much amused by the Irish girl&rsquo;s warmth. &ldquo;I
+only asked you, or tried to ask you, if he would
+be likely to require you to tattle and to be a tell-tale,
+if he were so good as you describe him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It were jist putting before me eyes the
+maneness of the man. Is that nothing at all,
+and he a praste?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, well, Annorah, we will say no more
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg&nbsp;20]</a></span>
+about him now. I am tired, and must rest.
+You won&rsquo;t mind being still a while?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poor little thing!&rdquo; said Annorah; &ldquo;ye&rsquo;re
+pale as a lily. Is there a dhrap o&rsquo; anything ye
+would like, and then slape a bit?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will try to sleep.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But ye cannot kape still. The pain is
+shure too great. Let me carry you about a
+little.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, no; it would tire you,&rdquo; said Annie,
+who in her spasm of pain really longed for so
+novel a method of changing her position.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At least, let me thry it for once,&rdquo; urged the
+girl, whose Irish sympathies were powerfully
+awakened by her young mistress&rsquo;s evident suffering;
+&ldquo;jist for once, darlin&rsquo;.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Annie offered no further resistance, and, as
+Annorah bore her light form carefully up and
+down the room, experienced a feeling of relief
+that inspired her with warm gratitude toward
+her uncouth attendant.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ye&rsquo;re light as down, honey,&rdquo; said Annorah,
+as she met Annie&rsquo;s anxious, inquiring look.</p>
+
+<p>Satisfied at last that she was really no heavy
+burden, the weary invalid soon dropped asleep,
+with her head on the Irish girl&rsquo;s shoulder. Mrs.
+Lee opened the door and looked in.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whist!&rdquo; said Annorah, in a low, impatient
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg&nbsp;21]</a></span>
+whisper. &ldquo;Kape quiet, will ye, and let the poor
+lamb slape!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lee hardly knew whether to be amused
+or provoked as she, the mistress of the house,
+obeyed Annorah&rsquo;s imperative gesture, and withdrew
+softly from the apartment.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h3>ANNORAH LEARNS TO READ.</h3>
+
+
+<p>In a very few days Annie was intrusted to the
+sole care of her young Irish nurse, who served
+her with the most affectionate attention. Mrs.
+Lee often came to sit with her suffering child,
+but Annorah alone performed the tender offices
+of the sick-room. Rough and uncouth as she
+was, she readily adapted herself to the services
+required; and no power on earth could have persuaded
+her that Annie could be so well taken
+care of by any one else.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It naded a dale o&rsquo; contrivance, to be
+shure,&rdquo; she said to her mother one afternoon,
+when, Annie being asleep, she ran home
+to ask after the family, &ldquo;or I would be well
+bothered with all her pretty talk o&rsquo; books, and
+taching me to read and write; but she, poor
+darlin&rsquo;, shall say whatever she plazes to me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg&nbsp;22]</a></span>
+&ldquo;An&rsquo; if she spake ill o&rsquo; the praste and the
+holy Church, how then, Annorah?&rdquo; asked Mrs.
+Dillon, eying her daughter rather curiously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Blessed little good can <em>we</em> say o&rsquo; Father
+M&lsquo;Clane, whin we spake truth, as ye know,
+mother dear; and it&rsquo;s not to be expected o&rsquo; her
+to tell lies for his sake.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Does she spake o&rsquo; the Catholic Church
+Norah?&rdquo; asked her mother.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never at all, mother; so make yer heart
+aisy. She spakes to me o&rsquo; meself, and the wickedness
+in me heart; and when she leans so lovingly
+on me shoulder, and raises her clear eyes to the
+blue sky, or watches the bright sunset, and spakes
+so softly to me o&rsquo; the beauty o&rsquo; a holy life, I feel
+all the betther and patienter meself for hearing
+the good words. She says, mother dear, as how
+it is depravity that makes me so often angered
+and wrong; and how that Jesus Christ, the Son
+o&rsquo; God himself, died to save us and cure us o&rsquo;
+our sin. It would do yer own heart good, could
+ye hear her; and there&rsquo;s nought wrong in it at
+all, ye see.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Annie&rsquo;s influence grew stronger and stronger,
+and not a day passed without some precious truth
+from her lips finding a place in the heart of her
+attendant. It was many weeks before Annorah
+yielded to her persuasions, and commenced learning
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg&nbsp;23]</a></span>
+to read. The pleasant summer days had
+come, and they were often abroad in the fresh
+air together, Annie in her low carriage, which
+was easily drawn by her young nurse.</p>
+
+<p>Down in the valley behind Mr. Lee&rsquo;s house
+there was an old mill, long since deserted and
+unused.</p>
+
+<p>This was a favourite resort of Annie&rsquo;s, and it
+was here that she taught Annorah to read, during
+the long summer afternoons.</p>
+
+<p>At first Annorah was listless, indifferent, and
+often suspicious that all this attention to her
+education boded no good to her old religious
+prejudices. But she could deny Annie nothing;
+and after a time, as her confidence in the piety
+of her gentle teacher increased, she began to feel
+a deep interest in the truths taught.</p>
+
+<p>In her anxiety to please her invalid charge,
+she made rapid progress in reading, and before
+the end of the summer could write a few plain
+sentences. She began to love knowledge for its
+own sake; and many a pleasant hour did she
+spend, when Annie was asleep or weary, in reading
+the easy lessons selected for her. But she
+was careful that neither her mother nor the priest
+should suspect her progress in learning, and as
+she still went regularly to &ldquo;confession,&rdquo; it was
+easy to keep her secret from them. Annie was
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg&nbsp;24]</a></span>
+often not a little puzzled to know how she
+managed to elude the vigilance of the priest.</p>
+
+<p>It was a beautiful autumn afternoon, when the
+air was just cool enough to be refreshing, that,
+with Mrs. Lee&rsquo;s permission, Annie and her nurse
+sought their favourite seat by the mill-stream.
+Annie had been thinking more than usual about
+Annorah&rsquo;s progress in religious knowledge, and
+wondering how, with the light and wisdom she
+had received, she could still cling to her old
+superstitions. A great change had taken place
+in her temper, which was now usually controlled;
+her manners had gradually become more gentle;
+but the radical change of heart that Annie so
+longed to witness, did not yet show itself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell me, Annorah,&rdquo; she said, after the usual
+time had been spent in reading, &ldquo;does Father
+M&lsquo;Clane know that you can read yet?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not he, indade.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Does he not question you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not exactly. He says I spake better English,
+and that shure it is because I live where it is well
+spoken.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What did you say to that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I said. &lsquo;True, your riverence.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid that is hardly the truth, Annorah.
+If anything has improved your language, it is
+your reading.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg&nbsp;25]</a></span>
+&ldquo;To be shure. But is it not because I am
+with those who spake English well, that I&rsquo;m
+learning to read? So it was the truth, after all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not the whole truth, Annorah.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Just then Annorah turned, and saw the shadow
+of a man on the sloping rock at the left hand.
+Her first impulse was to cry out, but the fear of
+alarming Annie, and her own natural courage,
+prevented her; and she soon thought she could
+detect in the shadowy outline a resemblance to
+Father M&lsquo;Clane. &ldquo;Och, then, the murder&rsquo;s out,&rdquo;
+she thought; &ldquo;the mane creature has been listening,
+and faith now he shall have a pill that will
+settle his stomach intirely.&mdash;What were you
+saying, Miss Annie?&rdquo; she asked aloud, turning
+towards Annie&rsquo;s carriage.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I said that you did not tell him the whole
+truth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Small matter for that. It was all he asked
+for, and it&rsquo;s better plazed he is than if it were
+more. He&rsquo;s a lying ould thing himself, any
+way!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Annorah?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ye may well open yer eyes. Did he not
+tell me last Sunday that you, miss, with your
+sweet voice and comforting ways, were jist a
+temptation placed in me way, by the ould inimy
+himself?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg&nbsp;26]</a></span>
+&ldquo;I, Annorah? What does he know of me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing at all, savin&rsquo; that ye are a saint,
+and he an ould&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stop, stop, Annorah. We must not speak
+evil of any one. I hope that you were civil in
+your reply.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Civil! indade I was. I said, &lsquo;Ye should
+teach your flock better than to tempt honest
+people.&rsquo; &lsquo;It&rsquo;s gettin&rsquo; impudent ye are,&rsquo; says he;
+&lsquo;ye&rsquo;ll be turnin&rsquo; heretic next. You must be
+seen to and taken care of,&rsquo; says he. &lsquo;Bad luck
+to ye!&rsquo; says I; &lsquo;when ye sees me two eyes light
+me to confession again, ye may take care o&rsquo; me
+and welcome.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And shall you not go again?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never again.&rdquo; Annorah saw the shadow
+raise its hand threateningly. &ldquo;No, indade.
+Where&rsquo;s the use o&rsquo; telling all ye know to an ould
+creature like him? Doesn&rsquo;t the blessed Book
+say that no man can come to the Father but only
+through Jesus Christ? An&rsquo; shure, the great
+Father in heaven is angered to see me kneel down
+before that biggest o&rsquo; scamps, when I should be
+praying to himself. I&rsquo;ll do it no more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am glad to hear you say so, Annorah; I
+do so hope,&rdquo; said Annie, as the affectionate tears
+stole down her thin cheek, &ldquo;that you are beginning
+to learn in the school of Christ. But, my
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg&nbsp;27]</a></span>
+poor girl, you will meet much opposition. I am
+afraid that your family will join with the priest
+in opposing you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let them. I&rsquo;ll fight them all with pleasure&mdash;more
+especially the praste.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But fighting is not the way to make them
+think well of the religion of Jesus. He was
+mild and gentle, patient under abuse and persecution;
+and he must be your pattern, if you
+desire to please God. You must pray to him,
+Annorah, for a new heart, so that none of these
+angry feelings will trouble you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it the new heart, miss, that makes you so
+sweet and patient?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If I have any goodness, Annorah, it is because
+God has changed my old heart, and made
+it better. It is his grace that enables me to
+suffer without complaining; and it is his love,
+which I feel in my heart, that makes me calm
+and happy in my greatest pain.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then I am sure,&rdquo; said the girl earnestly,
+forgetting for a moment that she was overheard.
+&ldquo;I will never rest a day at all, till I get that
+same done for me. But mayhap he will not be
+so willing to look upon me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In his holy Book we read that he is no
+respecter of persons, and that whosoever cometh
+unto him he will in no wise cast out.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg&nbsp;28]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Why, then, I can coom as soon as the grandest.
+<em>How</em> shall I coom?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will tell you how I came to him. I studied
+his holy Word to learn his will, and I prayed
+often that he would give me his Spirit to teach
+me the way to him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; did he?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes. In a little time I began to know more
+about myself, and to see how much I needed a
+Saviour; and then I saw how willing Jesus must
+be to save me, having died for me as well as for
+others; and so, in a way that I can&rsquo;t explain, I
+was led to give myself to him, and I soon found
+peace in believing. He will teach you, Annorah,
+and lead you right, if you earnestly seek him.
+Look at the sunset clouds. Did you ever see
+such gold, and crimson, and purple before? But
+the sunset is not half so bright and beautiful as
+the true Christian&rsquo;s prospects.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Looking at the sunset reminded Annorah that
+it was late for her charge to be out. A very
+slight rustle in the bushes behind her, recalled
+what she had strangely forgotten, in her interest
+in the conversation. She took up a large stone
+and threw it among the bushes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is there, Annorah?&rdquo; asked Annie, in
+alarm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Only a sarpint, miss.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg&nbsp;29]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Well, let us hasten home. Mamma will be
+anxious.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>After they left, the dark form of a man rose
+from behind the green knoll where they had been
+sitting, and moved slowly along the bank of the
+stream, down the valley. It was Father M&lsquo;Clane.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE PRIEST MEETS ANNORAH AT HER MOTHER&rsquo;S
+COTTAGE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Biddy Dillon had just finished a large ironing
+for one of the families in the village, and having
+placed the clothes-frame where the dust from
+the open fire-place could not fall on the fine
+starched linens and muslins, she began to set
+her table for tea, at the same time counting over
+the gains of the week. Not a trifle in her
+calculations were the wages of Annorah, who
+came regularly every Saturday evening to add
+her contribution to the family fund.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a good child she is gettin&rsquo; to be, and a
+pleasant-tempered one, too,&rdquo; said Mrs. Dillon to
+herself; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s made over intirely, she is, our
+Lady be praised!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She began to sing the burden of an Irish ditty,
+but the broken-nosed tea-kettle over the fire
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg&nbsp;30]</a></span>
+beginning to sing too, she commenced talking
+again.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Heaven send it mayn&rsquo;t be thrue, but it does
+look like the heretic&rsquo;s doings. She were like a
+brimstone match, or like gunpowder itself, at
+home, and tender-hearted as a young baby besides.
+Shure, it&rsquo;s a mighty power, any way,
+that has so changed her. I can&rsquo;t jist feel aisy
+about it, for it&rsquo;s Father M&lsquo;Clane will find out
+the harm of her good spaches and doings.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The words were hardly out of her mouth when
+the priest entered. The storm on his brow was
+not unnoted by Biddy, but she respectfully set a
+chair for him in the cleanest part of the room.
+She was not quite so easily terrified by priestly
+wrath and authority as she had been in her own
+country; for she had the sense to know that the
+ghostly father&rsquo;s malediction did not, as in Ireland,
+entail a long course of temporal misfortunes
+upon the poor victims of his displeasure.
+But she had not yet acknowledged to herself the
+doubts that really existed in her mind in regard
+to the truth of the Romish faith; she still clung
+to the errors in which she had been brought up,
+and feared the effect on her eternal happiness of
+Father M&lsquo;Clane&rsquo;s displeasure. So it was with a
+beating heart that she awaited his time to address
+her.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg&nbsp;31]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Do you know that your daughter is a heretic?&rdquo;
+was his first question.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indade, no, yer riverence,&rdquo; replied Biddy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; what sort o&rsquo; a mother are you, Biddy
+Dillon, to stand still and look on while the wolf
+stales the best o&rsquo; yer flock? You might have
+known that heretic family would lave not a stone
+unturned to catch her at last. And so she can
+read&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>Read!</em>&rdquo; interrupted the astonished woman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, read! And it&rsquo;s the heretics&rsquo; Bible
+she has read, too,&mdash;and all through your fault.
+Mighty proud ye have been o&rsquo; all the fine housekeeping
+ways she has learned, and very thankful,
+no doubt, for the bits o&rsquo; could victuals from the
+big house; but where&rsquo;s the good now? Ye may
+thank yourself that she will lose her sowl for
+ever.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Dillon started and turned pale as the
+door softly opened, and Annorah herself, unobserved
+by the priest, came in. He went on:
+&ldquo;Do you call her better, the pestilent crather,
+when, from her first going to the grand place on
+the hill, never a word about them has been got
+from her at confession? The obstinate crather!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I came to your riverence for spiritual good,&rdquo;
+said Annorah, now coming forward and laying
+a fat chicken and sundry paper parcels beside
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg&nbsp;32]</a></span>
+her week&rsquo;s wages on the little table by her
+mother&rsquo;s side. &ldquo;I came for spiritual good, and
+ye thried to teach me to tattle. It&rsquo;s a mane
+trade intirely, lettin&rsquo; alone the maneness of sich
+as teach it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Annorah!&rdquo; exclaimed her mother, &ldquo;do you
+dare to spake in that way o&rsquo; the praste himself?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I mean no harm, mother.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No harm!&rdquo; repeated Father M&lsquo;Clane, turning
+fiercely toward her. &ldquo;You won&rsquo;t cheat me
+with words like these.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Annorah tossed her head scornfully and sat
+down opposite the priest, who on his part seemed
+far less desirous to carry on the war since her
+arrival. The cottage that he occupied belonged
+to Mr. Lee, and judging that gentleman by his
+own heart, he feared that an unfavourable representation
+of the case to him might either increase
+his rent or turn him out altogether. Besides,
+he was not unlike blusterers, and could denounce
+the erring with greater ease when they stood
+in awe of him. That Annorah felt neither fear
+nor reverence for him, it was easy to see. So,
+smothering his wrath, he began, to the great surprise
+of Mrs. Dillon, to address the girl in his
+most coaxing tones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come, come, Annorah,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;let us be
+friends. It&rsquo;s me that&rsquo;s ould enough, and willing
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg&nbsp;33]</a></span>
+too, to be to you in place o&rsquo; yer own father,
+Heaven rest his sowl; but he&rsquo;s gone to a better
+counthree than this sinful world. An&rsquo; yer own
+good, child, is what I think on in spaking to
+you of Miss Annie and the heretics generally.
+It&rsquo;s not for meself, shure, that me prayers go up
+at the could midnight hour whin ye&rsquo;re all sleeping
+in quiet. It&rsquo;s not me own throubles that
+make me dream o&rsquo; Heaven&rsquo;s wrath, but it&rsquo;s me
+care for yer sowl, Annorah, and for the sake o&rsquo;
+yer gettin&rsquo; saved at last.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hear that, Norah, child,&rdquo; said her mother.
+&ldquo;Who else ever fretted themselves for yer good?
+What would become o&rsquo; ye, an&rsquo; Father M&lsquo;Clane
+gave ye up entirely?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your riverence must stay till I draw the tae
+and fry a bit o&rsquo; the chicken,&rdquo; added Biddy, as
+the priest rose to take his leave.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, thank you,&rdquo; he replied; &ldquo;I must not sit
+down at ease. Small rest is there for me when
+the wolf is in the fold, and the flock is in danger.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He took leave quite cordially, but when he
+was gone, Biddy turned, with a shadow on her
+round face, to speak to her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; what&rsquo;s this ye&rsquo;ve been doing, child?
+Is it me own ears that have heard o&rsquo; yer Bible-reading
+and railing at the praste? What&rsquo;s coom
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg&nbsp;34]</a></span>
+to ye now? Didn&rsquo;t I warn ye against their
+heretic ways? An&rsquo; ye&rsquo;ve been and fallen into
+the dape pit as aisy as a blind sheep. Och! for
+shame, Annorah Dillon! Why do ye not spake?
+What can ye say for yourself?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; said Annorah, &ldquo;how often you&rsquo;ve
+said, when Larry O&rsquo;Neale&rsquo;s good luck has been
+tould of, that it was the larnin&rsquo;, shure, that did
+it all! An&rsquo; when we were over the great water,
+you said, &lsquo;How nice and comfortable would it
+be an&rsquo; we had one in the family like Larry himself,
+to send back the news to ould friends, when
+we got safe here.&rsquo; Do ye not mind, mother dear,
+how often you&rsquo;ve said that same since? Well,
+now, I&rsquo;ve been and learned what ye wanted so
+much; and first cooms the praste and makes a
+big fuss, and then you, mother, spake as if I had
+thried to anger in the room o&rsquo; plasing ye. I&rsquo;m
+sure I&rsquo;ve thried to plase you all I could.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So ye have, mavourneen; so ye have,&rdquo; said
+Biddy, her voice softening as she turned to look
+at the chicken and other things that Annorah
+had brought. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s not yer mother, honey, that
+has a word to say against you; but when Father
+M&lsquo;Clane talks o&rsquo; yer being a heretic, it angers
+me. This Bible that he frets about, what is it,
+Norah?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s God&rsquo;s truth, mother, that he has given
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg&nbsp;35]</a></span>
+to teach us all; and a brave book it is. Father
+M&lsquo;Clane has one himself; and what frets him is,
+that the heretics, as he calls them, can read it
+for themselves and find out God&rsquo;s will; for only
+the praste has it with us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, then, an&rsquo; the praste tells us the same,
+it saves us a world o&rsquo; bother, shure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But if the praste is not a good man, he can
+tell us whatever he likes; and how do we know
+what is God&rsquo;s Word? Now, mother, in all God&rsquo;s
+Word there is never a bit about confessing to a
+praste, but a great deal about praying and confessing
+to God himself. But, you see, if all our
+people knew that same, sorra a bit o&rsquo; money
+would go to the praste&rsquo;s pocket in comparison to
+what he gets now. It&rsquo;s that, mother dear, that
+makes him so afraid we shall learn. He can&rsquo;t
+get the money from those who can read God&rsquo;s
+Word for themselves.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you sure it&rsquo;s all thrue?&rdquo; asked Biddy,
+her eyes wide open with astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is the truth of God. An&rsquo; it&rsquo;s this same
+learning that&rsquo;s got out of the holy Book that
+makes the difference between Protestants and
+Catholics. They go to the Word itself, an&rsquo; we take
+on hearsay whatever the praste tells us. An&rsquo;
+there is no word in all the Book, mother, about
+praying to Mary the mother of Jesus, or to any
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg&nbsp;36]</a></span>
+of the saints. Everybody is invited to pray
+straight up to God himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The girl&rsquo;s downright heresy, and her contempt
+for the mummeries of the Romish communion,
+troubled her mother. But what could she do?
+The change for the better in the child&rsquo;s temper
+had prepared her to look favourably upon the
+change in her religion. She listened to Annorah&rsquo;s
+continued account of what she had learned
+from the Bible with the greatest interest, feeling
+every moment more and more disposed to accept
+its teaching, and less and less disposed to blindly
+submit to the priest. Annorah stayed till a late
+hour with her mother, repeating over and over
+again the truths so interesting to herself, and
+obtaining permission at last to bring the Bible
+itself on her next visit. She was strictly cautioned,
+however, to bring it privately, lest Father
+M&lsquo;Clane should hear of it, and, in Biddy&rsquo;s language,
+&ldquo;kick up a scrimmage.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There were more ideas in the old woman&rsquo;s
+head than had ever found room there before,
+when, after Annorah had gone, she sat down by
+herself before the fire. She was both ambitious
+and imaginative, and long vistas of future greatness
+opened before her, all commencing with the
+wonderful fact that <em>her</em> child could read and write.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; it&rsquo;s not all a queer drame,&rdquo; she said;
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg&nbsp;37]</a></span>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll hear her for meself coom next Saturday
+Och! what a row it will make an&rsquo; Father
+M&lsquo;Clane, and Teddy Muggins, and Mike Murphy
+get wind o&rsquo; a heretic Bible being brought to the
+place! But I&rsquo;ll hear and judge for meself, that
+I will; an&rsquo; if the praste be right, small harm is
+there to be shure; and if he be wrong, the
+better for me poor sowl, and a saving o&rsquo; money.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h3>PHELIM BRINGS BAD TIDINGS TO ANNORAH.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Annorah&rsquo;s troubles were not ended by the unexpected
+encouragement received from her mother.
+Her brothers and sister, and Irish acquaintance
+generally, soon heard that she no longer went to
+mass or to confession; and great was the uproar
+among them. The unsparing rebukes of Father
+M&lsquo;Clane, whenever he met with any one supposed
+to have any influence over her, soon fanned
+into life not only a vehement hatred of the Protestants,
+but a bitter feeling of enmity toward
+the poor girl herself. Those who had been most
+cordial now either passed her in sullen silence, or
+openly taunted her upon her defection; and the
+very children in the lane hooted after her, when
+she made her usual weekly visit to her mother.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg&nbsp;38]</a></span>
+Annorah often found these things very hard
+to bear. Her quick Irish blood was up with the
+first insulting word; but she sought for strength
+from above to control it, and no outbreak of passion
+was suffered to mar the sweet lesson that
+her patience and kindness toward all was insensibly
+teaching.</p>
+
+<p>She was getting ready for her usual Saturday
+evening&rsquo;s visit to her mother&rsquo;s cottage, when her
+attention was attracted by the low whistling of
+a familiar Irish air in the yard below. Looking
+out, she observed her lame brother, Phelim,
+making signs for her to come out. A little
+alarmed lest some evil had befallen her mother
+she hurried out to meet him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is it, Phelim? What is the matther,
+dear?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Matther, do you ask? Well, the matther
+is, that ye&rsquo;re not to coom home till ye&rsquo;re sent
+for. Are ye not ashamed to make such a
+row?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what you mean. Sit down,
+Phelim dear; you&rsquo;re over weak to keep standin&rsquo;
+so. Does the new liniment no help ye at all?
+And ye must carry home the money to mother,
+and the tea, and the sugar, and some nice warm
+woollen stockings that Mrs. Lee showed me how
+to knit for yerself, darlin&rsquo;; and Heaven grant
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg&nbsp;39]</a></span>
+that it&rsquo;s no a bad turn o&rsquo; pain ye will get in yer
+bones by cooming to tell me. There&rsquo;s a cranberry-pie
+that Mrs. Lee was to send for your
+own self, Phelim dear; it will relish better than
+our mother&rsquo;s plain cooking.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The thought of eating the dainty so thoughtfully
+provided, produced a choking sensation in
+the boy&rsquo;s throat, as if it had there come into a
+collision with his wrath against heretics. But
+he said nothing, and Annorah went on:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been making some caps for mother; but
+ye&rsquo;re no able to carry so many things at once,
+poor fellow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Still Phelim did not speak, but he gazed earnestly
+into her face. The moon was up, and he
+could plainly see the traces of tears on her cheek,
+and the sad but loving expression of her eyes as
+she returned his gaze.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; it&rsquo;s the Protestant religion that makes
+you so good and kind, Norah,&rdquo; he said at length;
+&ldquo;our Lady help me, and I could just be a heretic
+wi&rsquo; ye!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s little I know yet o&rsquo; the truth, but, O
+Phelim, it&rsquo;s a lovely way to heaven; and the
+swate, blessed feeling that fills up the heart
+when I pray straight up to the Lord Jesus
+Christ himself, is better than to have all the
+diamonds in a queen&rsquo;s crown. It makes me so
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg&nbsp;40]</a></span>
+light and happy; so contented intirely. It quiets
+the bad temper into perfect peace; and I love,
+as I never dreamed of doing before, all my friends
+and enemies too. It&rsquo;s little I know yet, Phelim,
+but all the gould in the world, and all the world&rsquo;s
+hate too, shall not hinder me from learning more
+o&rsquo; God&rsquo;s wonderful way to save sinners. But
+hurry home now, Phelim, mavourneen; the raw
+night air is no good for ye.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They may say what they will, Norah,&rdquo; said
+the boy, &ldquo;but I&rsquo;m sure I will love ye for ever.
+An&rsquo; ye&rsquo;ll tache me to get those heavenly feelings,
+I&rsquo;ll jist follow the road ye have taken. I&rsquo;ve
+plenty o&rsquo; time, as ye know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do ye mean, will I teach you to read?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll speak to Miss Annie about it. Hurry
+home as fast as you can. Good-night, and God
+bless you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With an affectionate kiss they parted; and
+Annorah went slowly back to her young mistress&rsquo;s
+room.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How is this, Annorah?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Lee, as
+she entered. &ldquo;How happened you to return so
+soon?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have not been home, an&rsquo; ye please, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you not going to-night?&rdquo; asked Annie,
+raising her head from her pillow, and noticing,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg&nbsp;41]</a></span>
+with a little anxiety, the unusual expression of
+her attendant&rsquo;s face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s Phelim, my brother, miss, has been here,
+and it&rsquo;s a house full o&rsquo; company there is at home.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And they want you to spend the holy Sabbath
+to-morrow in visiting them, I suppose.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, Miss Annie.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What then?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Lee, after a moment&rsquo;s
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing to speak of, ma&rsquo;am. Leastways
+nothing to trouble ye about.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But I can see that it is something that
+troubles you, Norah,&rdquo; said Annie, taking the
+rough hand of Annorah in hers, and drawing
+her nearer. &ldquo;Is it something that you would
+rather I should not know?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed no. But it&rsquo;s loath I am to add my
+bit troubles to yours, when ye suffer yer own so
+patiently. It&rsquo;s only that all my relatives, and
+the praste, and the Catholic neighbours, are
+waiting for me to come home, to bring me back
+to the ould Church by force. An&rsquo; Phelim, poor
+boy, came to tell me to keep away. It&rsquo;s worse
+he&rsquo;ll be for the damp air; and it&rsquo;s angry they&rsquo;ll
+be for my staying away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! Annorah, my dear nurse, I was afraid
+that rougher times awaited you. I was afraid
+they would persecute you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg&nbsp;42]</a></span>
+&ldquo;But they haven&rsquo;t yet, Miss Annie.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps it is not what you would call persecution,
+but it is sad to have those we love turn
+against us. You must trust in God, my poor
+girl. He will give you grace to bear it all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE CONFESSIONAL&mdash;AN IRISH FROLIC.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Great was the uproar in Biddy Dillon&rsquo;s cottage
+when it was found that Annorah was not coming
+to make her usual Saturday evening visit to her
+mother.</p>
+
+<p>Preparations had been made by Father M&lsquo;Clane
+for holding a regular confessional; and an hour
+before sunset, he had taken his seat in the little
+darkened chamber, behind a table on which four
+tallow-candles were burning, with an uncertain,
+flickering light.</p>
+
+<p>It had been decided in the council of relatives
+and friends that Annorah&rsquo;s only chance of salvation
+lay in speedy confession, and it was very
+reasonably supposed, that could she be brought
+back to that Popish duty, a great point would
+be gained in the way to her perfect restoration.</p>
+
+<p>It was, therefore, no affectionate, loving circle
+that had now assembled to &ldquo;bear a hand&rdquo; in
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg&nbsp;43]</a></span>
+Annorah&rsquo;s restoration to the faith. One after
+another went reverently on their knees up the
+short, steep stairway, and came down lighter in
+purse, and, as the priest wickedly taught them,
+absolved of all offences, but swelling with wrath
+against the poor girl whose coming was so long
+delayed. And when, at last, it became apparent
+that she would not come, a storm of abuse was
+poured upon Biddy, who, it was evident to all,
+did not cordially join in their violent measures.</p>
+
+<p>Now, Biddy Dillon had too much of the national
+character to sit down quietly and receive
+their abuse, and soon a regular quarrel ensued,
+which would have speedily become a fight, but
+for the descent of Father M&lsquo;Clane into their
+midst, and his imperative command that each one
+should sit down quietly and &ldquo;hould his tongue.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whisht! whisht! Of what are ye thinking,
+ye silly gossoons? Will ye bring down the peace
+officers upon ye, and take out the bit o&rsquo; the night
+in the prison, instead o&rsquo; drinking me health, as
+ye may, and me helping to do that same?
+Arrah! Why should ye glower and snarl at
+each other, like a kennel o&rsquo; mad puppies, when
+it&rsquo;s the brave frolic ye may have together? It&rsquo;s
+the soft looks and the fine words ye must use, an&rsquo;
+ye would win the young heretic back; ye may
+fight over her till the great day o&rsquo; all, and it
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg&nbsp;44]</a></span>
+will be but a sorrowful waste o&rsquo; the powther,
+barrin&rsquo; the swate chance ye are losing now o&rsquo; a
+comfortable frolic. Arrah, now, Dennis darlin&rsquo;,
+a sup o&rsquo; the whisky for me, a thrifle sthrong, an&rsquo;
+ye plaze. It&rsquo;s a could night to be out wi&rsquo; an
+empty stoomach.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stay till the morning, father,&rdquo; said Biddy,
+coming up to him with an anxious face; &ldquo;we
+cannot kape peace an&rsquo; ye do not bide wi&rsquo; us; the
+frolic will be all the better an&rsquo; ye stay to the
+orderin&rsquo; o&rsquo; it,&mdash;and the best bed is waitin&rsquo; yer
+riverence&rsquo;s convanience. There&rsquo;s Sandy and
+Mike will fight an&rsquo; ye lave, and Katy there is
+ready to tear out the eyes o&rsquo; big Nelly Murphy.
+It&rsquo;s quarrelling they&rsquo;ve been the whole blessed
+day. Bide with us, lest the dear childer who is
+the cause o&rsquo; it all should be kilt and murdered
+intirely, an&rsquo; she sthrays home to-night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She spoke in a low voice, and he replied in
+the same tone, drawing her back from the crowd,
+who were all talking together.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look here, Biddy Dillon,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;the
+girl must lave that grand house and come home
+to live here with you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lave Miss Annie, do ye mane, sir?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Small hope for her sowl an&rsquo; she do not.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And few are the pennies I can bring to yer
+riverence when the child has no wages to bring
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg&nbsp;45]</a></span>
+home o&rsquo; a Saturday. Sorra a hap&rsquo;orth to spare
+will I find; it&rsquo;s no me two hands alone can find
+bread for the mouths o&rsquo; all, and&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stuff and nonsense!&rdquo; interrupted the priest;
+&ldquo;there&rsquo;s many another place can be had for a
+sthrong, likely lass like her. Good servants are
+not over plenty, and she can be better placed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But where, I would like ye to tell? It&rsquo;s in
+a Protestant family she must be, an&rsquo; she goes out
+to service at all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes; but they&rsquo;ll let her alone in some
+houses. Sorra a bit do the most o&rsquo; them care
+what becomes o&rsquo; the sowl, an&rsquo; the work be done
+to their liking. Our Lady be praised! it&rsquo;s to
+the far counthrees that the Protestant missionaries
+are sent, and the silver is given; for
+one-half o&rsquo; the pains taken wi&rsquo; the poor crathurs
+who work in their kitchens would have ruined
+us all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yer riverence spakes thrue, to be shure,&rdquo;
+said Biddy; &ldquo;but for all that, it will never be a
+bit o&rsquo; use to thry to make a good Catholic o&rsquo;
+Norah, now that she can read the big books and
+talk so bravely herself. An&rsquo; it were to be the
+savin&rsquo; o&rsquo; her life, she would never confess to a
+praste again, or take the holy wafer from his
+hands. But if ye would take it aisy and lave it
+to me, and persuade these meddlesome boobies
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg&nbsp;46]</a></span>
+to mind their own particular business, and throuble
+us no more, it&rsquo;s meself would be sure to bring the
+handsome sum to yer riverence when I come to
+confession. Contrariwise, you see, and you kape
+fussing, and they kape fussing, it&rsquo;s all loss it is
+to ye, and no gain.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The priest&rsquo;s countenance brightened perceptibly.
+He seemed much impressed with Biddy&rsquo;s
+view of the case, and was not slow to perceive its
+worldly wisdom. So, after addressing the waiting
+company to some purpose, he left them.</p>
+
+<p>But Biddy sat thoughtfully in a corner, with
+her lame boy. She had, in her conversation with
+the priest, cunningly hit on an expedient to propitiate
+him for a time, but she was ill at ease.
+She could not at once throw off the chains of
+teaching that had bound her all her life; and so
+dim was the light that she had received, that she
+dared not yet follow it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, then, it&rsquo;s a jewel she is, core o&rsquo; me heart,
+Norah dear!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The last two words were whispered so loud
+that Phelim heard them, and he said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve seen
+her to-night, mother.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who? Spake aisy, mavourneen.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Our Norah.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When?&rdquo; questioned his mother, with an anxious
+glance at the unheeding revellers.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg&nbsp;47]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Afther dusk. I thought ye would like her
+to kape away to-night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now blessings on ye for a handy callant as ye
+are,&rdquo; said Biddy, patting his shoulder approvingly.
+&ldquo;An&rsquo; how is she?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well as ever, mother, and kind-tempered and
+good too. A power of good things she has sent,
+and they&rsquo;re safe hid in the cellar. The money is
+in me coat pocket, mother. Shall I give it ye?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not now. Kape it till all be gone. Was
+she sorry or mad, Phelim?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mad? Not at all. Sorry? I don&rsquo;t know at
+all. Her voice was all courage and kindness;
+but I saw big tears on her cheek, for all that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The mother and son sat silently looking into
+the fire for a few moments. At last Phelim spoke.
+&ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; said the boy, &ldquo;ye&rsquo;ll not have them
+abuse her and torment her, just for changing into
+such a dear crathur?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s a heretic, lad.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What o&rsquo; that? She&rsquo;s good, any way,&rdquo; said
+Phelim stoutly. &ldquo;I would I were a big man.
+We&rsquo;d see who would throuble her then. It&rsquo;s a
+thrashin&rsquo; they&rsquo;d get, an&rsquo; it&rsquo;s manners they&rsquo;d learn,
+and no charges made for the teaching.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whisht, lad! it&rsquo;s careful and sly we must be.
+An&rsquo; do ye not bother yer poor head wi&rsquo; yer
+sister&rsquo;s new notions. It&rsquo;s a nation o&rsquo; throuble I&rsquo;d
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg&nbsp;48]</a></span>
+have with a pair o&rsquo; ye at once; and ye&rsquo;re no
+earning money, Phelim, boy, to buy off the
+praste. Kape a still tongue, lad, an&rsquo; ye bite it
+in two; an&rsquo; don&rsquo;t go for to meddle wi&rsquo; matters
+concerning yer sowl. The praste an&rsquo; yer poor
+mother will kape a sharp look-out; an&rsquo; it will go
+hard, shure, if between us ye are not saved at last.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, mother, where is the harm if I look for
+meself a bit? Who can see Norah, so gentle
+and loving, so careful o&rsquo; you and me, so pleasant
+to every one, and not want to know more o&rsquo; the
+way she has taken?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, yes, lad; but have ye no sense at all?
+What if ye have been tould a secret, can ye not
+kape it the same? Now mind, once for all;
+ye&rsquo;re not to know it at all, if Norah brings home
+the Word o&rsquo; the Lord to read to her ould ignorant
+mother (it&rsquo;s a swate voice she has), and ye shall
+hear the big Book as well; only mind, Phelim,
+acushla, ye&rsquo;re to know nothing at all, let who will
+spake to ye o&rsquo; the same.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes; but, mother, what if I myself learn
+to&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hush!&mdash;Is it o&rsquo; me ye are spaking?&rdquo; asked
+Biddy, turning to a cluster of people who had
+drawn near them. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s no hearty I feel to-night,
+and poor lame Phelim is kaping me company.
+Is it room for the dance ye are wanting?
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg&nbsp;49]</a></span>
+The other is the roomiest, and the floor is the
+plainest.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Hurrying out with ready good-will to assist
+in the needful preparations, Biddy soon removed
+any suspicions that might have been entertained
+in the minds of any of her neighbours of any
+leaning on her part toward heresy.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h3>BIDDY DILLON BECOMES A &ldquo;HERETIC.&rdquo;</h3>
+
+
+<p>Several months passed quietly by. It was
+winter, and the heaviest snow that had fallen
+within the memory of that personage so universally
+known and respected&mdash;namely, the oldest
+inhabitant&mdash;now lay upon the ground; and all in
+town and country who were partial to the exercise
+of skating could enjoy it freely. But the
+severe cold confined the delicate invalids to their
+heated rooms, and fair Annie Lee again found
+herself shut up to the tiresome routine of sick-room
+pleasures, only varied by intervals of suffering.
+The pleasure, however, predominated.
+She seemed almost to forget her pain and increasing
+languor in her unceasing efforts to
+instruct her young nurse.</p>
+
+<p>Annorah, on her part, thirsted for knowledge,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg&nbsp;50]</a></span>
+especially for the wisdom that cometh from above.
+She improved, too, rapidly enough to satisfy a
+less partial teacher. In the varied arts of housewifery,
+and in the more intricate use of the needle,
+she had also become quite expert, and, to use
+Mrs. Lee&rsquo;s own words, &ldquo;was quite a treasure in
+every part of the house.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Little lame Phelim came for an hour each
+afternoon to Miss Annie&rsquo;s room to be made a
+&ldquo;schollard, shure;&rdquo; and every Saturday evening
+found Annorah, with her Bible, seated by her
+mother&rsquo;s fireside, reading, and in her own earnest
+but uncouth manner expounding the truths she
+read.</p>
+
+<p>One Sabbath evening in March, Father M&lsquo;Clane
+set out for a walk to Mrs. Dillon&rsquo;s cottage. His
+prospects and reflections had been of a grave and
+sad character throughout the day, and his threadbare
+coat and lean purse had been more than
+usually suggestive of the great truth, that all
+earthly comforts are fleeting and transitory.</p>
+
+<p>For the first time Biddy had that day absented
+herself from the Catholic chapel. Annorah had
+lately added to her Scripture reading, &ldquo;Kirwan&rsquo;s
+Letters to Archbishop Hughes.&rdquo; She read it
+to her mother whenever a spare hour enabled her
+to run home. Biddy had been greatly interested
+in the appeals and arguments of her talented
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg&nbsp;51]</a></span>
+countryman, and deeply impressed by his life-like
+delineation of the follies and superstitions of the
+Romish ritual.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s rasonable he is intirely,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and
+a bright son o&rsquo; the ould counthree, blessin&rsquo;s on
+it! It&rsquo;s him who spakes well o&rsquo; the poor ruined
+crathers, and praises us all for the natural generous-sowled
+people we are. He knows us intirely,
+Norah dear. Shure he&rsquo;s a wonderful man and a
+bould, let alone the thrue son o&rsquo; ould Ireland,
+for doing the beautiful thing. Read us one more
+letther, mavourneen, before ye are off, and lave
+the book here. Mayhap Phelim will spell out a
+morsel or so when the Sabbath even is coom.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You will not go to confession to-morrow,
+dear mother?&rdquo; said Annorah.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not I,&rdquo; replied Biddy firmly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It goes to my heart, mother, that the money
+we earn so hardly, and which should be kept to
+comfort your old age, should go for nothing, or
+worse.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will do it no more. Make yer heart aisy,
+honey. Never a penny o&rsquo; mine will the praste
+hould in his hand again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He will visit you, mother.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; what o&rsquo; that? Let him coom. He is
+welcome an&rsquo; he minds his own business, and only
+dhraps in for a bit o&rsquo; gossip; but an&rsquo; he interferes
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg&nbsp;52]</a></span>
+in me private consarns, it&rsquo;s soon he&rsquo;ll find himself
+relaved o&rsquo; all throuble on account o&rsquo; us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Annorah saw that there was no reason now to
+fear that her mother would be overawed by the
+priest; but she still lingered anxiously. Her
+mother saw the shade on her face, and asked,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is it, Norah? Are you in throuble?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do not quarrel with him, mother,&rdquo; replied
+the daughter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let him be dacent, and it&rsquo;s ceevil treatment
+he&rsquo;ll get; but no man shall browbeat me on me
+own floor,&rdquo; said Biddy, in a tone which declared
+the firmness of her purpose.</p>
+
+<p>It was on the night succeeding this conversation,
+that Father M&lsquo;Clane visited the cottage.
+As he approached the house he paused at the
+unusual sound of a voice reading. It was Phelim
+imperfectly spelling out to his mother and a few
+of the neighbours one of the letters of Kirwan.
+The priest, who was not remarkably well versed
+in the books of the day, did not know the work,
+but supposed that it was the Bible to which they
+were so profoundly listening. His face grew as
+dark as the night shades around him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve caught ye at last!&rdquo; he exclaimed, as,
+without ceremony, he burst into the room.
+&ldquo;This tells the story. It&rsquo;s not that ye are ill in
+bed, or hindered by the rain, or the could; it&rsquo;s
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg&nbsp;53]</a></span>
+because ye are heretics all, that ye shun the confession
+and the holy mass. Do ye know what
+the Church has power to do wi&rsquo; the like o&rsquo; ye?
+Arrah! it was the heavenly and not the mortal
+wisdom that made the hot fires o&rsquo; purgatory for
+such. Small help will ye get from me when the
+flames are scorching ye. Never a mass shall be
+said for a sowl o&rsquo; ye, unless ye repent at once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And what call have ye to spake the like o&rsquo;
+that,&rdquo; said Biddy, &ldquo;and me sitting peaceably by
+me own fire wi&rsquo; the neighbours?&rdquo; She spoke
+in a low, uncertain tone, for his sudden appearance
+had startled her. A hush had fallen on the
+little assembly, and signs of terror flitted across
+the faces of the most timid, as the familiar voice
+of the priest recalled their old Popish fears. He
+was not slow to perceive this, or to take advantage
+of it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And who taught yer lame boy to read at all?
+Who brought the heretic Bible into yer house?
+And who gathered the poor neighbours together
+to hear the false words that lead to perdition?
+Answer me that, Misthress Dillon,&rdquo; said the
+priest in a tone of anger.</p>
+
+<p>Biddy did not reply, though she had quite regained
+her usual courage.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll ask ye a plain question, Biddy Dillon,
+and I want a straight answer. Will ye, or will
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg&nbsp;54]</a></span>
+ye not, give up these heretic doings, and stay in
+the communion o&rsquo; the holy Church?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; it plaze yer riverence,&rdquo; replied Biddy,
+no ways disconcerted, &ldquo;yer blessed saints are
+nothing to me; an&rsquo; I shall do as I plaze.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hear the woman! Do you hear the bould
+blasphemer?&rdquo; he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; what if they do hear? It were a sore
+pity they should be sthruck deaf to plaze ye,&rdquo;
+replied Biddy, her eyes flashing with excitement.
+&ldquo;I would ye were in ould Ireland, or, for the
+matther o&rsquo; that, in purgatory itself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We would&mdash;&rdquo; said the priest.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No doubt o&rsquo; it. But it&rsquo;s here I am, at yer
+service,&rdquo; interrupted Biddy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, and it&rsquo;s here ye&rsquo;ve been bought for a
+wee pinch o&rsquo; tae and a few poor, lean chickens.
+Sowl and body ye&rsquo;ve been bought, and a mighty
+poor bargain have the blind purchasers made
+o&rsquo; it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Plazing yer riverence, ye know nought o&rsquo;
+what ye are saying, and small throuble ye&rsquo;ll make
+wi&rsquo; yer idle words. It&rsquo;s not a turkey, duck, or
+hen could buy Biddy Dillon. Ye&rsquo;ve tried it
+yerself, father, and so ye know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a black heart ye have,&rdquo; said the priest,
+whose courage was hardly equal to his anger,
+and whose valour speedily cooled before resolute
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg&nbsp;55]</a></span>
+opposition. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s blacker than ink ye are, Biddy
+Dillon, with the wicked heresy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Like most Irish women, Biddy was well
+skilled in the art of scolding, and among her
+neighbours was considered rather more expert in
+the business than themselves. When angry,
+abusive epithets seemed to fall as naturally from
+her tongue as expressions of endearment when
+she was pleased.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A black heart, did ye say?&rdquo; she cried, rising
+and facing the priest, who involuntarily retired a
+step from her; &ldquo;the same to yerself! An&rsquo; ye
+were bathed in Lough Ennel, and rinsed in the
+Shannon at Athlone, it would not half clane out
+the vile tricks ye are so perfect in. A black
+heart has Biddy Dillon? An&rsquo; ye were ducked
+and soaked over night in the Liffey mud at Dublin,
+ye were claner than now? A black heart?
+An&rsquo; yerself an ould penshioner, idle and mane,
+stirrin&rsquo; up a scrimmage in an honest woman&rsquo;s
+house, and repeating yer haythenish nonsense,
+an&rsquo; ye able and sthrong to take hould o&rsquo; the
+heaviest end o&rsquo; the work! Are ye not ashamed?
+What are ye good for?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The saints preserve us! what a tongue the
+woman has!&rdquo; exclaimed Father M&lsquo;Clane, making
+a futile effort to smile, as he turned his face,
+now pale as death, toward the company. &ldquo;But
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg&nbsp;56]</a></span>
+I have no time to stay longer. I warn ye all,
+my friends, to kape away from this accursed
+house, and to turn a deaf ear to all that is said
+to ye here. Your souls are in peril. Ye are
+almost caught in the snare. Ye should run for
+yer lives before ye perish entirely. I shall remember
+you, Biddy Dillon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In course ye will. An&rsquo; ye show yerself here
+again, barrin&rsquo; as a peaceable frind or ould
+acquaintance, ye&rsquo;ll find yerself remimbered too,
+honey.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was a silence of some minutes after the
+priest left the house. It was broken by the
+most timid of the party.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Afther all, Biddy, my heart misgives me.
+Of what use are all the prayers on the beads, the
+Hail Marys, and the penance, the fasting from
+meat on Fridays, or even the blessed salt o&rsquo; our
+baptism, if we anger the praste, and he refuse to
+give us the holy oil at the last? What will become
+o&rsquo; us then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What can a wicked ould praste do to help
+us? It&rsquo;s God alone can strengthen us then. I
+wouldn&rsquo;t give a penny for the oil. It&rsquo;s a betther
+way, darlin&rsquo;, that God has provided for us.
+It&rsquo;s a brave story that Phelim is waiting to
+read to us. There&rsquo;s thruth and sense in it, too,
+ye will find.&mdash;It&rsquo;s a fine counthree is this, Masther
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg&nbsp;57]</a></span>
+Barry, and a free,&rdquo; added Biddy, turning to a
+stout man, who, with scarcely a whole article in
+his apparel, was lounging in the shade of a
+corner.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thrue for ye,&rdquo; he replied,&mdash;&ldquo;though it&rsquo;s
+little I get out of it, barrin&rsquo; the sup o&rsquo; whisky
+wi&rsquo; my supper.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But ye might&mdash;the more shame it is. Ye
+are weel-conditioned and hearty. It&rsquo;s no the
+counthree is to blame, neighbour, nor Katy
+indade. She works night and day for ye an&rsquo; the
+childer. Ye are better here than over the sae.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, then, I don&rsquo;t know. When I came to
+this counthree, I had never a rag to me back,
+an&rsquo; now, faith, I&rsquo;m nothing but rags. A fine,
+illigant counthree!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lave the liquor alone, Peter Barry, and ye
+may have the best of the land for yerself. An&rsquo;
+ye would give up the dhrinking, a better lad
+could not be found, nor a handsomer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s too sthrong for me. It&rsquo;s many a day
+have I given it up for ever, and been drunk as a
+beast in an hour. But to-night, says Katy to me,
+&lsquo;It&rsquo;s the heretic Bible as is read at Mrs. Dillon&rsquo;s
+has a cure in it for weak sinners like you, Peter
+dear.&rsquo; So I came to hear a bit o&rsquo; the Bible, an&rsquo;
+ye plaze.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So Kirwan&rsquo;s Letters were laid aside, and a New
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg&nbsp;58]</a></span>
+Testament brought out. Phelim read very
+poorly, and was often obliged to spell over the
+long words, and did not always succeed in giving
+the correct pronunciation; but no fault was found
+by his eager listeners. He read how Christ healed
+the leper, and poor Peter Barry found in the
+story a word of encouragement for him. He
+read of the Saviour&rsquo;s gracious compassion for the
+hungering multitude; and his ignorant auditors
+praised the divine Being who so sympathized with
+mortal infirmities. Phelim was often interrupted
+by remarks or approving comments, but these in
+no way diminished the interest of the sacred
+story.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>ANNIE&rsquo;S DEATH&mdash;ANNORAH&rsquo;S PROSPECTS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>On every pleasant evening Biddy Dillon&rsquo;s cottage
+was thronged by those who came to listen to the
+Word of God. It was in vain that Father M&lsquo;Clane
+opposed these meetings. His threats and arguments,
+once so potent, seemed now but to lessen
+his power. He even secured the services of a
+neighbouring priest, and with him visited each
+Irish family in succession, coaxing and flattering
+where his authority was not acknowledged.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg&nbsp;59]</a></span>
+But, alas for him and his prospects! he could do
+nothing with the people.</p>
+
+<p>The Protestant clergyman of the village, when
+he heard of the interest felt in lame Phelim&rsquo;s
+reading, readily came to their assistance, and joyfully
+read and explained the divine lessons. As
+their knowledge of the right way increased, their
+impressions of its importance to them personally
+were deepened, and Annorah soon had the happiness
+of seeing not only her mother and brother
+bowing at the foot of the cross of Christ, but
+many others earnestly seeking the salvation of
+their souls.</p>
+
+<p>The little Irish neighbourhood had been named
+New Dublin. It stood quite by itself, a thick
+belt of wood and the narrow mill-stream isolating
+it from the large village, where Mr. Lee&rsquo;s
+residence stood. Nothing but the smoke, which
+in summer as well as in winter is ever pouring
+from Irish chimneys, revealed to a visitor the
+existence of their pleasant hamlet. Still it was
+not so far retired but that, when a wake was held
+for the dead, the noise of the revelry seriously
+disturbed their quieter neighbours; and when a
+row ensued, as was often the case, the distant uproar
+alarmed as well as annoyed the timid women
+and children. But no one thought of interfering.
+The wealthy owners of the iron-works and factories
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg&nbsp;60]</a></span>
+in the vicinity were glad to secure their labour,
+because of its cheapness, and never troubled themselves
+about an occasional noise, if the general
+interests of their business were not neglected.</p>
+
+<p>There were not wanting those who pitied their
+low estate, and who would have sincerely rejoiced
+in their elevation; but until poor invalid Annie
+Lee began to instruct Annorah, no one had
+dreamed of winning them, by self-sacrifice and
+kindness, to a knowledge of the truth. Annie
+herself, while patiently explaining over and over
+again what seemed to her as simple and plain as
+possible, little imagined the glorious results that
+were indirectly to grow out of her feeble efforts.
+But God watches the least attempt to do good,
+and fosters the tiniest seed sown; and Annie,
+without knowing it, was sowing seed for a plenteous
+harvest.</p>
+
+<p>But while the good work prospered, she herself
+was rapidly ripening for heaven. She knew
+that she was hastening to a better land, even a
+heavenly; and she strove to improve every moment
+of the time that remained, in efforts to give
+stability to Annorah&rsquo;s religious feelings. Many
+were the conversations that they had together on
+the condition of the poor Irish people, and countless
+almost were the directions that Annorah received
+in regard to the best methods of winning
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg&nbsp;61]</a></span>
+their love and confidence. Young as she was,
+Annie had learned that all efforts to benefit the
+unfortunate or ignorant are vain so long as the
+cold shoulder is turned towards them. She had
+proved in Annorah&rsquo;s case the magic effect of loving
+words and sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>As the spring advanced, Annie grew weaker.
+The mild air seemed to enervate rather than to
+brace her system, and she grew daily more
+emaciated. Her paroxysms of pain were less
+frequent, and she suffered most from languor and
+drowsiness. It was apparent to all but her fond
+parents that her days were numbered. They
+watched over her with the tenderest affection,
+hoping when there was no hope, and persuading
+themselves and each other that she would rally
+again when the ripe summer brought its gentle
+breezes and beautiful blossoms.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She is so fond of flowers and of the open
+air,&rdquo; said Mrs. Lee to Annorah, when, after an
+unusually restless and painful day, Annie had
+fallen asleep at last, and both left the room to
+breathe the fresh evening air. &ldquo;When the weather
+gets settled so that she can let you draw her little
+carriage down by the mill-stream again, she will
+brighten up and get stronger. It is enough to
+make a well person ill, to be shut up so long.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ye know best, shure,&rdquo; said Annorah, in her
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg&nbsp;62]</a></span>
+grief resuming her national accent and brogue&mdash;&ldquo;Ye
+know best, but it&rsquo;s thinner and weaker she&rsquo;s
+getting, and is a baby for weight in me arms.
+Och! the dark day it will be for poor Norah
+when she looks her last on that swate angel face!&rdquo;
+And the poor girl burst into tears, and covered
+her face with her apron. After a few moments
+she went on to say,&mdash;&ldquo;It&rsquo;ll go hard wi&rsquo; ye all,
+Mrs. Lee: ye&rsquo;ll miss her dear ways an&rsquo; her
+heavenly smiles; she is yer own blood, were she
+not an angel intirely. But oh, ma&rsquo;am, she&rsquo;s been
+to me what no words can tell; and the short life
+o&rsquo; me will seem without end till I go to wait on
+her above. Oh, what&rsquo;ll I do without her, when
+the whole world is dark as night?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lee could not reply, for she, too, was
+weeping. There was something in Annorah&rsquo;s
+desolate tone that went to her heart, and inspired
+a pitying affection for the plain-looking girl by
+her side, which she would once have thought impossible.
+She began to comprehend the mystery
+of Annie&rsquo;s caressing manner to her young nurse.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Annorah, my poor girl,&rdquo; she faltered at
+length.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, ma&rsquo;am, in all me troubles, and when I was
+wickedest, was it not her voice that was full and
+sweet with the pleasant encouragement? Oh, core
+o&rsquo; me heart, acushla, what&rsquo;ll I do? what&rsquo;ll I do?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg&nbsp;63]</a></span>
+&ldquo;We must trust in God, Annorah. If he takes
+her from us, it will be for the best, and we must
+learn to say, &lsquo;His will be done.&rsquo; She will leave
+us her lovely example to guide us, and we shall
+not forget how she strove to do good. We shall
+be lonely; but is it not selfish in us to wish her
+to stay here and suffer? God knows what is best
+for us all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was but a little time that they were permitted
+to hope. Fair Annie Lee&rsquo;s appointed
+work was done, her mission of love was accomplished,
+and she was ready to depart. Shut up
+by her protracted illness from all the ordinary
+paths of usefulness, she had found out a way to
+work in her Saviour&rsquo;s service. Long will it be
+ere her gentle acts of kindness will be forgotten,
+or her precious influence cease to be felt by those
+who knew her.</p>
+
+<p>She died suddenly, perhaps unconsciously at
+last. Annorah had placed her couch so that she
+could see the beautiful changes in the rich June
+sunset; and when she returned after a moment&rsquo;s
+absence to her side, she found that, with a sweet
+smile of joyous triumph on her lips, she had fallen
+asleep in Jesus.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 30%;" />
+
+<p>Annorah, although greatly refined by reading
+and association with educated people, and especially
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg&nbsp;64]</a></span>
+improved by the happy influence of true
+religion, yet retains enough of the characteristics
+of her nation to make her an acceptable visitor
+in the humblest cottage in New Dublin. It was
+long after the death of her young mistress before
+she regained her usual cheerfulness. But time,
+the great healer of sorrow, has gradually softened
+her grief, and made her cherished memories of
+Miss Annie, like beautiful pictures, very pleasant
+to look upon.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 246px;">
+<img src="images/ltbu04.png" width="246" height="100" alt="FINIS" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="bbox">
+<p><b>Transcriber's Note</b></p>
+
+<p>Minor typographic punctuation errors have been corrected without note.</p>
+
+<p>The frontispiece illustration has been moved to follow the title page.</p>
+
+<p>There is a large amount of dialect in this book, which all remains as printed
+in the original text. This includes some variable spelling, e.g. crather&mdash;crathur,
+plase&mdash;plaze.</p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_55">55</a>&mdash;Sharron amended to Shannon&mdash;"... and rinsed in the Shannon at
+Athlone ..."</p>
+
+<p>A table of contents has been added to this version of the e-text, for ease
+of navigation.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Live to be Useful, by Anonymous
+
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@@ -0,0 +1,1983 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Live to be Useful, by Anonymous
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Live to be Useful
+ or, The Story of Annie Lee and her Irish Nurse
+
+Author: Anonymous
+
+Release Date: March 30, 2008 [EBook #24956]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIVE TO BE USEFUL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Sam W. and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ LIVE TO BE USEFUL
+
+ OR,
+
+ _THE STORY OF ANNIE LEE AND
+ HER IRISH NURSE._
+
+
+ [Decoration]
+
+
+ _THOMAS NELSON AND SONS_
+ _London, Edinburgh, Dublin, and New York_
+ _1913_
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Annorah turned, and saw the shadow of a man on the
+sloping rock.
+
+_Page 25._]
+
+
+
+
+LIVE TO BE USEFUL.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+ANNIE'S PLAN.
+
+
+Annie Lee was a cripple. Until her eighth summer she had been strong
+and well, like most other children; but then disease began to appear,
+and although she had skilful doctors and kind nurses, it was soon too
+plain that she was never to be well again.
+
+Five years of pain and weakness had been her portion at the time our
+story commences. So accustomed had she become to her sad situation,
+that it seemed like a delusive dream when she remembered the sportive
+hours of her earlier childhood. Like other sick children, she was far
+more thoughtful than was quite natural at her age, and very seldom in
+her easiest moments laughed aloud. But she was not an unhappy child.
+
+As soon as she was old enough to understand that she had a sinful
+heart and needed salvation, she had earnestly sought the Saviour of
+sinners, and had been graciously received by him, and made a lamb of
+his flock. In the school of Christ she learned to bear pain without
+murmuring, and to submit with cheerfulness to her lot in life. Instead
+of requiring comfort from her parents, who seemed to realize her
+misfortune more fully than she did herself, she became their consoler,
+and rarely failed in her efforts to lighten their sorrow on her
+account.
+
+"It might have been so much worse, mamma," she said one day, when Mrs.
+Lee was lamenting her condition. "Only think of poor lame Phelim,
+Biddy Dillon's little boy."
+
+"What is the matter with him?" asked her mother.
+
+"Have you not seen him? He is often in the back-yard when Biddy comes
+to wash in the kitchen. I've watched him often. I think it was before
+he came to this country--but I'm not sure--that a large stone, falling
+from a wall, so mangled his poor limbs that one of them had to be cut
+off. I never see him limping about on his crutches while Biddy is
+washing without thanking God for my happier fate."
+
+"Why, Annie, it is not probable that he suffers one-half as much as
+you do."
+
+"As much _pain_, do you mean, mamma?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I wasn't thinking of that. They are very poor; and if he lives to be
+a man, how can he earn the comforts of life? I need have no care on
+that account."
+
+"I daresay he has none. There are several trades that he might learn
+which require a sitting posture; he might be a shoemaker, for
+instance. Do not fret on his account, Annie."
+
+"It seems to me, mamma," replied Annie, with a thoughtful air, "that
+his only prospect for the future is to be pushed about here and there
+in the crowd, until at last he finds a refuge in the grave."
+
+"What foolish fancies!" said Mrs. Lee, rising, as a noise in the yard
+below attracted her to the window. "We know nothing about the future,
+and it is not quite right to make ourselves sad about it. It is hardly
+like your usual trust in God, to be thus imagining trouble. There's a
+little lame boy in the yard, who, I suppose, is Phelim; he seems happy
+enough. Hark! don't you hear him sing? He is sitting on the bench
+behind the clothes-frame, and his mother is hanging out the clothes to
+dry. Don't you hear her laugh at what he is singing?"
+
+"What is it, mamma? Can you hear the words?" asked Annie, brightening
+up, and raising herself on her elbow as she lay on her low couch.
+
+"I hear them very well; but his Irish gibberish is as Greek to me. All
+that I can make out is what seems to be the chorus:
+
+ "'O Ireland, green Ireland,
+ Swate gem o' the sae!'"
+
+"Mamma," said Annie, after listening with smiling interest a while,
+"it troubles me very often because Phelim knows nothing about our
+Saviour. He has a sister, two years older than I am, who cannot read.
+She never went to school; and none of the family can read a word."
+
+"How did you learn this?"
+
+"From Phelim. I speak to him sometimes when he plays under the
+window."
+
+"Well, I don't know how we can help them. If we should offer to teach
+them, they would not be willing to learn."
+
+"Are you sure of it, mamma?"
+
+"Not quite so sure, perhaps, as if I had tried to instruct them; but I
+know that they regard a book as a sort of Protestant trap, made on
+purpose to catch them, soul and body. It is an evil that we cannot
+remedy.--Have you more pain than usual, my dear?" said Mrs. Lee,
+appearing a little startled, and bending anxiously over Annie's couch
+as she observed an unusual flush on her pale cheek.
+
+"No, mamma; but I was thinking of a plan that I have had for some
+weeks, and hoping that you would not object to it."
+
+"Object! You shall have whatever you like, if it can be procured. What
+is it, Annie?"
+
+"Oh, dear mamma," said Annie, "I do so long to do some good! I cannot
+bear to live such a useless life. Every day, when I feel the goodness
+of God and his great love to me, I long to do something for him. And I
+think, mamma, that I have planned a way to do good without getting off
+my sofa."
+
+"You are always doing good, Annie. Do you suppose that your patience
+under suffering is not a lesson to us in our smaller trials? There are
+many ways in which you are a blessing to us all; so do not weary
+yourself with new schemes. If God had required active service from
+you, he would have given you health and strength."
+
+"But I can do something, mamma. Please to hear my plan. I want to tell
+you something more about Phelim's sister. She has been Mrs. Green's
+servant, and her business was to assist in the nursery. She would have
+done nicely, Phelim says, but for her violent temper. Last week one of
+the children was cross and provoking, and the girl got angry and
+pushed him down-stairs. He was much bruised; and, of course, she was
+dismissed at once."
+
+"I should hope so. But your plan, Annie?"
+
+"The poor girl has no place, mamma, and, with such a dreadful temper,
+is not likely to get one soon. And they are very poor. I know that
+since Jessie left us, you are too closely confined here with me; and
+my plan is to have this poor girl to wait on me, and--"
+
+"Why, Annie, what a wild project!" interrupted her mother. "You must
+not think of it. She would be throwing you out of the window, or
+beating you to a jelly, in her first fit of ill-temper."
+
+"Oh no, she won't, mamma," urged Annie. "She will not be so easily
+vexed here, and no one is ever angry with me. Please to try her."
+
+"Are you really in earnest, Annie?"
+
+"Yes; and very anxious to be indulged in my strange plan."
+
+"Have you thought how awkward she will be in assisting you?"
+
+"I have thought of it all, over and over," replied Annie, "and I
+think she will make a good nurse for me."
+
+Mrs. Lee hesitated a long time. She could not bear to deny Annie, and
+could not overcome her dislike to the proposed arrangement. But
+Annie's pleading look at length decided her.
+
+"You wish very much to try this wild-goose plan!" she said, resuming
+the conversation.
+
+"Very much, mamma," replied Annie.
+
+"Well, you shall have your own way about it. It will last but a few
+days, I am sure; and the change will interest you at any rate, poor
+thing!" Then going to the window, she looked down into the yard, and
+said, "Mrs. Dillon, come up to Miss Annie's room, will you?"
+
+In a minute the woman made her appearance at the door, with the suds
+still lingering in foamy flakes upon her arms and along the folds of
+her apron.
+
+"You have a daughter, I believe?" said Mrs. Lee.
+
+"Two of them, an' ye plaze, ma'am," replied Biddy, wiping her arms as
+she spoke.
+
+"Are they both at home?"
+
+"It's Bessie that is in service; and it's only Annorah that's at home,
+shure."
+
+"What is Annorah doing?" inquired Mrs. Lee.
+
+"Doing?" repeated Biddy wonderingly.
+
+"I mean, how does she get her living?"
+
+"At service too, ma'am, when it is to be had. But, shure, it's a bad
+timper she has, and will sthrike and scold whin her blood is up. An'
+she has lost the fine, comfortable place she had with Mrs. Green, jist
+for a thrifle of spaach."
+
+"That is unfortunate."
+
+"Oh, thin, ye may well say that. Anither mouth in a family like me own
+is far from convenient whin the cost of the mate and the flour is
+beyond raach intirely."
+
+"Well, Biddy, Miss Annie wants some one to wait on her in the place of
+Jessie, who has gone. She has taken a fancy to try your girl. When can
+she come?"
+
+"Coom! Why, this very hour, an' ye like. A blessin' on yer swate, pale
+face!" said Biddy, looking pityingly towards Annie.
+
+"She must be gentler here," said Mrs. Lee; "she must govern her
+temper. Miss Annie must not be excited and made worse by your girl's
+fits of ill-humour."
+
+"Leave her to me, mamma," said Annie. "I think, Mrs. Dillon, that
+there will be no trouble. What did you say is her name?"
+
+"Annorah, an' ye plaze, miss."
+
+"Annorah? Very well. When shall she come, mamma?"
+
+"Not until Monday, I think," replied Mrs. Lee. Then turning to Mrs.
+Dillon, she added, "You may send her on Monday."
+
+"An' she gets a mad streak along o' that pritty crathur," said Mrs.
+Biddy, as she went down-stairs, "she desarves the warm bating she'll
+get from her own mother at home."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+ANNORAH'S FIRST APPEARANCE IN THE SICK-ROOM.
+
+
+Monday came, and Annorah came too. It was with a doubting heart and a
+troubled look that Mrs. Lee introduced her into her daughter's
+chamber. It would be difficult to find a plainer-looking or a more
+awkward girl.
+
+Mrs. Lee looked at the monstrous foot in its heavy shoe, and at the
+thick, freckled hands, that seemed incapable of the gentle services
+that Annie's helplessness required, and wondered at her own folly in
+indulging the singular caprice of her daughter. But a single look at
+Annie assured her that she, at least, felt no misgivings. Still, she
+did not like to leave them by themselves until she had tested the new
+attendant's ability.
+
+"Annorah," she said, "what sort of work can you do? I'm afraid you
+are not used to such services as Miss Annie will require."
+
+"I can do most anything, ma'am," answered the girl resolutely.
+
+"Indeed! Well, let me see how you would manage to place Annie on the
+bed when she is tired of the sofa."
+
+The words were scarcely out of her mouth before Annorah had lifted the
+frail form of the invalid in her arms and deposited her in the middle
+of the bed. Annie burst into such a laugh as she had not indulged in
+for a year.
+
+"I think you may be satisfied, mamma," she said; "I never was moved
+easier."
+
+Mrs. Lee began to think better of Annie's plan, and joined quite
+cordially in her daughter's mirth.
+
+"And if she were too tired to rest in any position, what would you
+do?"
+
+"Carry her to the windows, or out in the air, for a change.--Will ye
+plaze to thry it, Miss Annie?"
+
+"Not now, Annorah." Then looking towards her mother, she said, "Mamma,
+you may be easy; Annorah and I shall get on famously together."
+
+Thus assured, Mrs. Lee left them, and went down-stairs with a better
+opinion of the rough Irish girl than she had thought it possible to
+entertain an hour previous.
+
+Left by themselves, the two girls began to form an acquaintance with
+each other. Two persons more unlike could not have been brought
+together. Annorah was evidently much interested in her young charge,
+and felt the most unbounded sympathy in her sufferings. Annie spoke
+first.
+
+"Please draw my couch nearer the window, Annorah. That will do. Now,
+sit down on this low stool, and tell me how long it is since you left
+Ireland."
+
+"It's two years, miss, coom April."
+
+"So lately? Then you remember all about the old country?"
+
+"Remember! An' it's me that'll niver forget that same. The beautiful
+counthree it is!"
+
+"Pleasanter than this, do you think?"
+
+"A thousand times. There is no place in the world like it; the dear
+ould counthree!"
+
+"Why, then, did you leave it, Annorah?"
+
+"Bad luck we had, miss; and a worse luck intirely here, the mane town
+that this is."
+
+"Tell me all about it."
+
+"What for? That ye, too, may laugh like the rest, and call us the
+mane, dirty set of Irish vagabonds?" asked the girl, her small eyes
+kindling with a sense of imaginary insult.
+
+"No, no, Annorah. You don't think I would say such things, do you? But
+you need not tell me a word if you had rather not. I only thought it
+would make me forget my pain for a little time; and, besides, I love
+dearly to hear about Ireland, or any place where I have never been,"
+said Annie, with a tone of voice so calm and earnest that the girl
+could not doubt her sincerity.
+
+"Do you, in truth? Why, thin, it's me that'll talk till I hoarse
+meself dumb for yer good. It was the famine, miss, that came first,
+and stole the bit o' food that was saved. The praties were rotten in
+the field; and the poor pigs starved that should have helped us out
+wi' the rint. Och, but it was a sore time o' grief whin sorra a
+mouthful were left for the bit childer and the ould people who were
+weak before wi' ould age! In the worst time o' all, whin the need was
+the sorest, our Bessie got into disgrace, and came home from service
+wi' niver a penny to help herself or us. There was nought to do and
+nought to eat at all. The neighbours were faint wi' the hoonger; and
+so, before the worst came, we left all that was dear and came here."
+
+"How many of you came, Annorah?"
+
+"Nine, miss, if we consider our uncles and cousins. We did not come
+altogether; brother John, who is dead, and uncle Mike, came first. And
+a fine chance to work they got directly, miss; and then they sent
+money to pay the old folk's passage. Our hearts gathered coorage and
+strength at once, miss, and we thought, shure, the great throubles
+were over. But the next vessel brought the bad news for us, and we
+forgot the glimmer of hope we had; for it was our own father dear who
+was dead o' the cholera."
+
+"Poor Annorah!" exclaimed Annie pityingly.
+
+"Poor indade! But soon came the money for the rest; and much as we
+feared the deep wathers, the hoonger still pressed on us, and the
+sickness was every day striking down the stoutest, and so we all left
+Ireland but Bessie."
+
+"Did you like the passage across from Ireland?"
+
+"No, indade."
+
+"Were you sea-sick?"
+
+"No, miss. But we came in the steerage; and a crowded, dirthy place it
+was. The dirt was not so bad, for in the ould counthree it ofttimes
+gets the betther o' us; but the men were either drunk or ill-nathured,
+and the women quarrelled, and the young ones were aye cross or sick;
+and a bad time they made of it all."
+
+"Did you come directly here?"
+
+"No; we stayed where we landed for seven weeks, till we got word to
+our cousin."
+
+"And since you have been here, Annorah, what have you been doing? Have
+you been to school?"
+
+"No; the praste forbade."
+
+"Poor thing! Then you cannot read?"
+
+"How should I know reading, I'd like to know? Who would teach me that
+same?"
+
+"Many good people would like to do it, if you would like to learn."
+
+"I'm ower knowin' for that, miss," replied Annorah, with a glance
+which betrayed that she was rather suspicious of Annie's good
+intentions. "It's a mighty pity that readin' was contrived at all, for
+it's the books that makes the black heretics o' us. 'Let alone the
+books and the readin',' said Father M'Clane to me last evening, 'and
+confess to me faithfully all that ye hear in the grand Protestant
+family, an' all will go well wi' ye, Annorah,' says he, 'now and for
+evermore.'"
+
+Annie laughed pleasantly. "And so you are to play the spy and the
+tattler; and however kindly we may treat you, you are to report all
+our sayings and doings to the priest? I don't believe, Annorah, that
+you can be mean enough for that, if you try. I thought the Irish
+people were too generous to act so low a part."
+
+"An' so we are, shure. Sorra a bit will the praste get from me about
+you here."
+
+"If he were a good man, a noble, honourable man," said Annie, "do you
+think he would ask you--"
+
+"He's the praste!" interrupted Annorah, her eyes flashing; "the
+praste, is Father M'Clane. An' ye mind to spake well o' him, it's
+nought I've to say; an' the tongue is a heretic's that would spake ill
+o' him, and he laving the ould counthree to stay for our good in this
+haythen land. An' the books an' the readin' were for the like o' us,
+would he not be the first to bid us welcome to the same? Och, it's a
+good man and a holy is Father M'Clane, say what ye will, miss."
+
+"I have not called him otherwise," said Annie, much amused by the
+Irish girl's warmth. "I only asked you, or tried to ask you, if he
+would be likely to require you to tattle and to be a tell-tale, if he
+were so good as you describe him?"
+
+"It were jist putting before me eyes the maneness of the man. Is that
+nothing at all, and he a praste?"
+
+"Well, well, Annorah, we will say no more about him now. I am tired,
+and must rest. You won't mind being still a while?"
+
+"Poor little thing!" said Annorah; "ye're pale as a lily. Is there a
+dhrap o' anything ye would like, and then slape a bit?"
+
+"I will try to sleep."
+
+"But ye cannot kape still. The pain is shure too great. Let me carry
+you about a little."
+
+"No, no; it would tire you," said Annie, who in her spasm of pain
+really longed for so novel a method of changing her position.
+
+"At least, let me thry it for once," urged the girl, whose Irish
+sympathies were powerfully awakened by her young mistress's evident
+suffering; "jist for once, darlin'."
+
+Annie offered no further resistance, and, as Annorah bore her light
+form carefully up and down the room, experienced a feeling of relief
+that inspired her with warm gratitude toward her uncouth attendant.
+
+"Ye're light as down, honey," said Annorah, as she met Annie's
+anxious, inquiring look.
+
+Satisfied at last that she was really no heavy burden, the weary
+invalid soon dropped asleep, with her head on the Irish girl's
+shoulder. Mrs. Lee opened the door and looked in.
+
+"Whist!" said Annorah, in a low, impatient whisper. "Kape quiet, will
+ye, and let the poor lamb slape!"
+
+Mrs. Lee hardly knew whether to be amused or provoked as she, the
+mistress of the house, obeyed Annorah's imperative gesture, and
+withdrew softly from the apartment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+ANNORAH LEARNS TO READ.
+
+
+In a very few days Annie was intrusted to the sole care of her young
+Irish nurse, who served her with the most affectionate attention. Mrs.
+Lee often came to sit with her suffering child, but Annorah alone
+performed the tender offices of the sick-room. Rough and uncouth as
+she was, she readily adapted herself to the services required; and no
+power on earth could have persuaded her that Annie could be so well
+taken care of by any one else.
+
+"It naded a dale o' contrivance, to be shure," she said to her mother
+one afternoon, when, Annie being asleep, she ran home to ask after the
+family, "or I would be well bothered with all her pretty talk o'
+books, and taching me to read and write; but she, poor darlin', shall
+say whatever she plazes to me."
+
+"An' if she spake ill o' the praste and the holy Church, how then,
+Annorah?" asked Mrs. Dillon, eying her daughter rather curiously.
+
+"Blessed little good can _we_ say o' Father M'Clane, whin we spake
+truth, as ye know, mother dear; and it's not to be expected o' her to
+tell lies for his sake."
+
+"Does she spake o' the Catholic Church Norah?" asked her mother.
+
+"Never at all, mother; so make yer heart aisy. She spakes to me o'
+meself, and the wickedness in me heart; and when she leans so lovingly
+on me shoulder, and raises her clear eyes to the blue sky, or watches
+the bright sunset, and spakes so softly to me o' the beauty o' a holy
+life, I feel all the betther and patienter meself for hearing the good
+words. She says, mother dear, as how it is depravity that makes me so
+often angered and wrong; and how that Jesus Christ, the Son o' God
+himself, died to save us and cure us o' our sin. It would do yer own
+heart good, could ye hear her; and there's nought wrong in it at all,
+ye see."
+
+Annie's influence grew stronger and stronger, and not a day passed
+without some precious truth from her lips finding a place in the heart
+of her attendant. It was many weeks before Annorah yielded to her
+persuasions, and commenced learning to read. The pleasant summer days
+had come, and they were often abroad in the fresh air together, Annie
+in her low carriage, which was easily drawn by her young nurse.
+
+Down in the valley behind Mr. Lee's house there was an old mill, long
+since deserted and unused.
+
+This was a favourite resort of Annie's, and it was here that she
+taught Annorah to read, during the long summer afternoons.
+
+At first Annorah was listless, indifferent, and often suspicious that
+all this attention to her education boded no good to her old religious
+prejudices. But she could deny Annie nothing; and after a time, as her
+confidence in the piety of her gentle teacher increased, she began to
+feel a deep interest in the truths taught.
+
+In her anxiety to please her invalid charge, she made rapid progress
+in reading, and before the end of the summer could write a few plain
+sentences. She began to love knowledge for its own sake; and many a
+pleasant hour did she spend, when Annie was asleep or weary, in
+reading the easy lessons selected for her. But she was careful that
+neither her mother nor the priest should suspect her progress in
+learning, and as she still went regularly to "confession," it was easy
+to keep her secret from them. Annie was often not a little puzzled to
+know how she managed to elude the vigilance of the priest.
+
+It was a beautiful autumn afternoon, when the air was just cool enough
+to be refreshing, that, with Mrs. Lee's permission, Annie and her
+nurse sought their favourite seat by the mill-stream. Annie had been
+thinking more than usual about Annorah's progress in religious
+knowledge, and wondering how, with the light and wisdom she had
+received, she could still cling to her old superstitions. A great
+change had taken place in her temper, which was now usually
+controlled; her manners had gradually become more gentle; but the
+radical change of heart that Annie so longed to witness, did not yet
+show itself.
+
+"Tell me, Annorah," she said, after the usual time had been spent in
+reading, "does Father M'Clane know that you can read yet?"
+
+"Not he, indade."
+
+"Does he not question you?"
+
+"Not exactly. He says I spake better English, and that shure it is
+because I live where it is well spoken."
+
+"What did you say to that?"
+
+"I said. 'True, your riverence.'"
+
+"I'm afraid that is hardly the truth, Annorah. If anything has
+improved your language, it is your reading."
+
+"To be shure. But is it not because I am with those who spake English
+well, that I'm learning to read? So it was the truth, after all."
+
+"Not the whole truth, Annorah."
+
+Just then Annorah turned, and saw the shadow of a man on the sloping
+rock at the left hand. Her first impulse was to cry out, but the fear
+of alarming Annie, and her own natural courage, prevented her; and she
+soon thought she could detect in the shadowy outline a resemblance to
+Father M'Clane. "Och, then, the murder's out," she thought; "the mane
+creature has been listening, and faith now he shall have a pill that
+will settle his stomach intirely.--What were you saying, Miss Annie?"
+she asked aloud, turning towards Annie's carriage.
+
+"I said that you did not tell him the whole truth."
+
+"Small matter for that. It was all he asked for, and it's better
+plazed he is than if it were more. He's a lying ould thing himself,
+any way!"
+
+"Why, Annorah?"
+
+"Ye may well open yer eyes. Did he not tell me last Sunday that you,
+miss, with your sweet voice and comforting ways, were jist a
+temptation placed in me way, by the ould inimy himself?"
+
+"I, Annorah? What does he know of me?"
+
+"Nothing at all, savin' that ye are a saint, and he an ould--"
+
+"Stop, stop, Annorah. We must not speak evil of any one. I hope that
+you were civil in your reply."
+
+"Civil! indade I was. I said, 'Ye should teach your flock better than
+to tempt honest people.' 'It's gettin' impudent ye are,' says he;
+'ye'll be turnin' heretic next. You must be seen to and taken care
+of,' says he. 'Bad luck to ye!' says I; 'when ye sees me two eyes
+light me to confession again, ye may take care o' me and welcome.'"
+
+"And shall you not go again?"
+
+"Never again." Annorah saw the shadow raise its hand threateningly.
+"No, indade. Where's the use o' telling all ye know to an ould
+creature like him? Doesn't the blessed Book say that no man can come
+to the Father but only through Jesus Christ? An' shure, the great
+Father in heaven is angered to see me kneel down before that biggest
+o' scamps, when I should be praying to himself. I'll do it no more."
+
+"I am glad to hear you say so, Annorah; I do so hope," said Annie, as
+the affectionate tears stole down her thin cheek, "that you are
+beginning to learn in the school of Christ. But, my poor girl, you
+will meet much opposition. I am afraid that your family will join with
+the priest in opposing you."
+
+"Let them. I'll fight them all with pleasure--more especially the
+praste."
+
+"But fighting is not the way to make them think well of the religion
+of Jesus. He was mild and gentle, patient under abuse and persecution;
+and he must be your pattern, if you desire to please God. You must
+pray to him, Annorah, for a new heart, so that none of these angry
+feelings will trouble you."
+
+"Is it the new heart, miss, that makes you so sweet and patient?"
+
+"If I have any goodness, Annorah, it is because God has changed my old
+heart, and made it better. It is his grace that enables me to suffer
+without complaining; and it is his love, which I feel in my heart,
+that makes me calm and happy in my greatest pain."
+
+"Then I am sure," said the girl earnestly, forgetting for a moment
+that she was overheard. "I will never rest a day at all, till I get
+that same done for me. But mayhap he will not be so willing to look
+upon me."
+
+"In his holy Book we read that he is no respecter of persons, and that
+whosoever cometh unto him he will in no wise cast out."
+
+"Why, then, I can coom as soon as the grandest. _How_ shall I coom?"
+
+"I will tell you how I came to him. I studied his holy Word to learn
+his will, and I prayed often that he would give me his Spirit to teach
+me the way to him."
+
+"An' did he?"
+
+"Yes. In a little time I began to know more about myself, and to see
+how much I needed a Saviour; and then I saw how willing Jesus must be
+to save me, having died for me as well as for others; and so, in a way
+that I can't explain, I was led to give myself to him, and I soon
+found peace in believing. He will teach you, Annorah, and lead you
+right, if you earnestly seek him. Look at the sunset clouds. Did you
+ever see such gold, and crimson, and purple before? But the sunset is
+not half so bright and beautiful as the true Christian's prospects."
+
+Looking at the sunset reminded Annorah that it was late for her charge
+to be out. A very slight rustle in the bushes behind her, recalled
+what she had strangely forgotten, in her interest in the conversation.
+She took up a large stone and threw it among the bushes.
+
+"What is there, Annorah?" asked Annie, in alarm.
+
+"Only a sarpint, miss."
+
+"Well, let us hasten home. Mamma will be anxious."
+
+After they left, the dark form of a man rose from behind the green
+knoll where they had been sitting, and moved slowly along the bank of
+the stream, down the valley. It was Father M'Clane.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE PRIEST MEETS ANNORAH AT HER MOTHER'S COTTAGE.
+
+
+Biddy Dillon had just finished a large ironing for one of the families
+in the village, and having placed the clothes-frame where the dust
+from the open fire-place could not fall on the fine starched linens
+and muslins, she began to set her table for tea, at the same time
+counting over the gains of the week. Not a trifle in her calculations
+were the wages of Annorah, who came regularly every Saturday evening
+to add her contribution to the family fund.
+
+"It's a good child she is gettin' to be, and a pleasant-tempered one,
+too," said Mrs. Dillon to herself; "it's made over intirely, she is,
+our Lady be praised!"
+
+She began to sing the burden of an Irish ditty, but the broken-nosed
+tea-kettle over the fire beginning to sing too, she commenced talking
+again.
+
+"Heaven send it mayn't be thrue, but it does look like the heretic's
+doings. She were like a brimstone match, or like gunpowder itself, at
+home, and tender-hearted as a young baby besides. Shure, it's a mighty
+power, any way, that has so changed her. I can't jist feel aisy about
+it, for it's Father M'Clane will find out the harm of her good spaches
+and doings."
+
+The words were hardly out of her mouth when the priest entered. The
+storm on his brow was not unnoted by Biddy, but she respectfully set a
+chair for him in the cleanest part of the room. She was not quite so
+easily terrified by priestly wrath and authority as she had been in
+her own country; for she had the sense to know that the ghostly
+father's malediction did not, as in Ireland, entail a long course of
+temporal misfortunes upon the poor victims of his displeasure. But she
+had not yet acknowledged to herself the doubts that really existed in
+her mind in regard to the truth of the Romish faith; she still clung
+to the errors in which she had been brought up, and feared the effect
+on her eternal happiness of Father M'Clane's displeasure. So it was
+with a beating heart that she awaited his time to address her.
+
+"Do you know that your daughter is a heretic?" was his first
+question.
+
+"Indade, no, yer riverence," replied Biddy.
+
+"An' what sort o' a mother are you, Biddy Dillon, to stand still and
+look on while the wolf stales the best o' yer flock? You might have
+known that heretic family would lave not a stone unturned to catch her
+at last. And so she can read--"
+
+"_Read!_" interrupted the astonished woman.
+
+"Yes, read! And it's the heretics' Bible she has read, too,--and all
+through your fault. Mighty proud ye have been o' all the fine
+housekeeping ways she has learned, and very thankful, no doubt, for
+the bits o' could victuals from the big house; but where's the good
+now? Ye may thank yourself that she will lose her sowl for ever."
+
+Mrs. Dillon started and turned pale as the door softly opened, and
+Annorah herself, unobserved by the priest, came in. He went on: "Do
+you call her better, the pestilent crather, when, from her first going
+to the grand place on the hill, never a word about them has been got
+from her at confession? The obstinate crather!"
+
+"I came to your riverence for spiritual good," said Annorah, now
+coming forward and laying a fat chicken and sundry paper parcels
+beside her week's wages on the little table by her mother's side. "I
+came for spiritual good, and ye thried to teach me to tattle. It's a
+mane trade intirely, lettin' alone the maneness of sich as teach it."
+
+"Annorah!" exclaimed her mother, "do you dare to spake in that way o'
+the praste himself?"
+
+"I mean no harm, mother."
+
+"No harm!" repeated Father M'Clane, turning fiercely toward her. "You
+won't cheat me with words like these."
+
+Annorah tossed her head scornfully and sat down opposite the priest,
+who on his part seemed far less desirous to carry on the war since her
+arrival. The cottage that he occupied belonged to Mr. Lee, and judging
+that gentleman by his own heart, he feared that an unfavourable
+representation of the case to him might either increase his rent or
+turn him out altogether. Besides, he was not unlike blusterers, and
+could denounce the erring with greater ease when they stood in awe of
+him. That Annorah felt neither fear nor reverence for him, it was easy
+to see. So, smothering his wrath, he began, to the great surprise of
+Mrs. Dillon, to address the girl in his most coaxing tones.
+
+"Come, come, Annorah," he said, "let us be friends. It's me that's
+ould enough, and willing too, to be to you in place o' yer own
+father, Heaven rest his sowl; but he's gone to a better counthree than
+this sinful world. An' yer own good, child, is what I think on in
+spaking to you of Miss Annie and the heretics generally. It's not for
+meself, shure, that me prayers go up at the could midnight hour whin
+ye're all sleeping in quiet. It's not me own throubles that make me
+dream o' Heaven's wrath, but it's me care for yer sowl, Annorah, and
+for the sake o' yer gettin' saved at last."
+
+"Hear that, Norah, child," said her mother. "Who else ever fretted
+themselves for yer good? What would become o' ye, an' Father M'Clane
+gave ye up entirely?
+
+"Your riverence must stay till I draw the tae and fry a bit o' the
+chicken," added Biddy, as the priest rose to take his leave.
+
+"No, thank you," he replied; "I must not sit down at ease. Small rest
+is there for me when the wolf is in the fold, and the flock is in
+danger."
+
+He took leave quite cordially, but when he was gone, Biddy turned,
+with a shadow on her round face, to speak to her daughter.
+
+"An' what's this ye've been doing, child? Is it me own ears that have
+heard o' yer Bible-reading and railing at the praste? What's coom to
+ye now? Didn't I warn ye against their heretic ways? An' ye've been
+and fallen into the dape pit as aisy as a blind sheep. Och! for shame,
+Annorah Dillon! Why do ye not spake? What can ye say for yourself?"
+
+"Mother," said Annorah, "how often you've said, when Larry O'Neale's
+good luck has been tould of, that it was the larnin', shure, that did
+it all! An' when we were over the great water, you said, 'How nice and
+comfortable would it be an' we had one in the family like Larry
+himself, to send back the news to ould friends, when we got safe
+here.' Do ye not mind, mother dear, how often you've said that same
+since? Well, now, I've been and learned what ye wanted so much; and
+first cooms the praste and makes a big fuss, and then you, mother,
+spake as if I had thried to anger in the room o' plasing ye. I'm sure
+I've thried to plase you all I could."
+
+"So ye have, mavourneen; so ye have," said Biddy, her voice softening
+as she turned to look at the chicken and other things that Annorah had
+brought. "It's not yer mother, honey, that has a word to say against
+you; but when Father M'Clane talks o' yer being a heretic, it angers
+me. This Bible that he frets about, what is it, Norah?"
+
+"It's God's truth, mother, that he has given to teach us all; and a
+brave book it is. Father M'Clane has one himself; and what frets him
+is, that the heretics, as he calls them, can read it for themselves
+and find out God's will; for only the praste has it with us."
+
+"Well, then, an' the praste tells us the same, it saves us a world o'
+bother, shure."
+
+"But if the praste is not a good man, he can tell us whatever he
+likes; and how do we know what is God's Word? Now, mother, in all
+God's Word there is never a bit about confessing to a praste, but a
+great deal about praying and confessing to God himself. But, you see,
+if all our people knew that same, sorra a bit o' money would go to the
+praste's pocket in comparison to what he gets now. It's that, mother
+dear, that makes him so afraid we shall learn. He can't get the money
+from those who can read God's Word for themselves."
+
+"Are you sure it's all thrue?" asked Biddy, her eyes wide open with
+astonishment.
+
+"It is the truth of God. An' it's this same learning that's got out of
+the holy Book that makes the difference between Protestants and
+Catholics. They go to the Word itself, an' we take on hearsay whatever
+the praste tells us. An' there is no word in all the Book, mother,
+about praying to Mary the mother of Jesus, or to any of the saints.
+Everybody is invited to pray straight up to God himself."
+
+The girl's downright heresy, and her contempt for the mummeries of the
+Romish communion, troubled her mother. But what could she do? The
+change for the better in the child's temper had prepared her to look
+favourably upon the change in her religion. She listened to Annorah's
+continued account of what she had learned from the Bible with the
+greatest interest, feeling every moment more and more disposed to
+accept its teaching, and less and less disposed to blindly submit to
+the priest. Annorah stayed till a late hour with her mother, repeating
+over and over again the truths so interesting to herself, and
+obtaining permission at last to bring the Bible itself on her next
+visit. She was strictly cautioned, however, to bring it privately,
+lest Father M'Clane should hear of it, and, in Biddy's language, "kick
+up a scrimmage."
+
+There were more ideas in the old woman's head than had ever found room
+there before, when, after Annorah had gone, she sat down by herself
+before the fire. She was both ambitious and imaginative, and long
+vistas of future greatness opened before her, all commencing with the
+wonderful fact that _her_ child could read and write.
+
+"An' it's not all a queer drame," she said; "I'll hear her for meself
+coom next Saturday Och! what a row it will make an' Father M'Clane,
+and Teddy Muggins, and Mike Murphy get wind o' a heretic Bible being
+brought to the place! But I'll hear and judge for meself, that I will;
+an' if the praste be right, small harm is there to be shure; and if he
+be wrong, the better for me poor sowl, and a saving o' money."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+PHELIM BRINGS BAD TIDINGS TO ANNORAH.
+
+
+Annorah's troubles were not ended by the unexpected encouragement
+received from her mother. Her brothers and sister, and Irish
+acquaintance generally, soon heard that she no longer went to mass or
+to confession; and great was the uproar among them. The unsparing
+rebukes of Father M'Clane, whenever he met with any one supposed to
+have any influence over her, soon fanned into life not only a vehement
+hatred of the Protestants, but a bitter feeling of enmity toward the
+poor girl herself. Those who had been most cordial now either passed
+her in sullen silence, or openly taunted her upon her defection; and
+the very children in the lane hooted after her, when she made her
+usual weekly visit to her mother.
+
+Annorah often found these things very hard to bear. Her quick Irish
+blood was up with the first insulting word; but she sought for
+strength from above to control it, and no outbreak of passion was
+suffered to mar the sweet lesson that her patience and kindness toward
+all was insensibly teaching.
+
+She was getting ready for her usual Saturday evening's visit to her
+mother's cottage, when her attention was attracted by the low
+whistling of a familiar Irish air in the yard below. Looking out, she
+observed her lame brother, Phelim, making signs for her to come out. A
+little alarmed lest some evil had befallen her mother she hurried out
+to meet him.
+
+"What is it, Phelim? What is the matther, dear?"
+
+"Matther, do you ask? Well, the matther is, that ye're not to coom
+home till ye're sent for. Are ye not ashamed to make such a row?"
+
+"I don't know what you mean. Sit down, Phelim dear; you're over weak
+to keep standin' so. Does the new liniment no help ye at all? And ye
+must carry home the money to mother, and the tea, and the sugar, and
+some nice warm woollen stockings that Mrs. Lee showed me how to knit
+for yerself, darlin'; and Heaven grant that it's no a bad turn o'
+pain ye will get in yer bones by cooming to tell me. There's a
+cranberry-pie that Mrs. Lee was to send for your own self, Phelim
+dear; it will relish better than our mother's plain cooking."
+
+The thought of eating the dainty so thoughtfully provided, produced a
+choking sensation in the boy's throat, as if it had there come into a
+collision with his wrath against heretics. But he said nothing, and
+Annorah went on:--
+
+"I've been making some caps for mother; but ye're no able to carry so
+many things at once, poor fellow."
+
+Still Phelim did not speak, but he gazed earnestly into her face. The
+moon was up, and he could plainly see the traces of tears on her
+cheek, and the sad but loving expression of her eyes as she returned
+his gaze.
+
+"An' it's the Protestant religion that makes you so good and kind,
+Norah," he said at length; "our Lady help me, and I could just be a
+heretic wi' ye!"
+
+"It's little I know yet o' the truth, but, O Phelim, it's a lovely way
+to heaven; and the swate, blessed feeling that fills up the heart when
+I pray straight up to the Lord Jesus Christ himself, is better than to
+have all the diamonds in a queen's crown. It makes me so light and
+happy; so contented intirely. It quiets the bad temper into perfect
+peace; and I love, as I never dreamed of doing before, all my friends
+and enemies too. It's little I know yet, Phelim, but all the gould in
+the world, and all the world's hate too, shall not hinder me from
+learning more o' God's wonderful way to save sinners. But hurry home
+now, Phelim, mavourneen; the raw night air is no good for ye."
+
+"They may say what they will, Norah," said the boy, "but I'm sure I
+will love ye for ever. An' ye'll tache me to get those heavenly
+feelings, I'll jist follow the road ye have taken. I've plenty o'
+time, as ye know."
+
+"Do ye mean, will I teach you to read?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I'll speak to Miss Annie about it. Hurry home as fast as you can.
+Good-night, and God bless you."
+
+With an affectionate kiss they parted; and Annorah went slowly back to
+her young mistress's room.
+
+"How is this, Annorah?" asked Mrs. Lee, as she entered. "How happened
+you to return so soon?"
+
+"I have not been home, an' ye please, ma'am."
+
+"Are you not going to-night?" asked Annie, raising her head from her
+pillow, and noticing, with a little anxiety, the unusual expression
+of her attendant's face.
+
+"It's Phelim, my brother, miss, has been here, and it's a house full
+o' company there is at home."
+
+"And they want you to spend the holy Sabbath to-morrow in visiting
+them, I suppose."
+
+"No, Miss Annie."
+
+"What then?" asked Mrs. Lee, after a moment's silence.
+
+"Nothing to speak of, ma'am. Leastways nothing to trouble ye about."
+
+"But I can see that it is something that troubles you, Norah," said
+Annie, taking the rough hand of Annorah in hers, and drawing her
+nearer. "Is it something that you would rather I should not know?"
+
+"Indeed no. But it's loath I am to add my bit troubles to yours, when
+ye suffer yer own so patiently. It's only that all my relatives, and
+the praste, and the Catholic neighbours, are waiting for me to come
+home, to bring me back to the ould Church by force. An' Phelim, poor
+boy, came to tell me to keep away. It's worse he'll be for the damp
+air; and it's angry they'll be for my staying away."
+
+"Ah! Annorah, my dear nurse, I was afraid that rougher times awaited
+you. I was afraid they would persecute you."
+
+"But they haven't yet, Miss Annie."
+
+"Perhaps it is not what you would call persecution, but it is sad to
+have those we love turn against us. You must trust in God, my poor
+girl. He will give you grace to bear it all."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE CONFESSIONAL--AN IRISH FROLIC.
+
+
+Great was the uproar in Biddy Dillon's cottage when it was found that
+Annorah was not coming to make her usual Saturday evening visit to her
+mother.
+
+Preparations had been made by Father M'Clane for holding a regular
+confessional; and an hour before sunset, he had taken his seat in the
+little darkened chamber, behind a table on which four tallow-candles
+were burning, with an uncertain, flickering light.
+
+It had been decided in the council of relatives and friends that
+Annorah's only chance of salvation lay in speedy confession, and it
+was very reasonably supposed, that could she be brought back to that
+Popish duty, a great point would be gained in the way to her perfect
+restoration.
+
+It was, therefore, no affectionate, loving circle that had now
+assembled to "bear a hand" in Annorah's restoration to the faith. One
+after another went reverently on their knees up the short, steep
+stairway, and came down lighter in purse, and, as the priest wickedly
+taught them, absolved of all offences, but swelling with wrath against
+the poor girl whose coming was so long delayed. And when, at last, it
+became apparent that she would not come, a storm of abuse was poured
+upon Biddy, who, it was evident to all, did not cordially join in
+their violent measures.
+
+Now, Biddy Dillon had too much of the national character to sit down
+quietly and receive their abuse, and soon a regular quarrel ensued,
+which would have speedily become a fight, but for the descent of
+Father M'Clane into their midst, and his imperative command that each
+one should sit down quietly and "hould his tongue."
+
+"Whisht! whisht! Of what are ye thinking, ye silly gossoons? Will ye
+bring down the peace officers upon ye, and take out the bit o' the
+night in the prison, instead o' drinking me health, as ye may, and me
+helping to do that same? Arrah! Why should ye glower and snarl at each
+other, like a kennel o' mad puppies, when it's the brave frolic ye may
+have together? It's the soft looks and the fine words ye must use, an'
+ye would win the young heretic back; ye may fight over her till the
+great day o' all, and it will be but a sorrowful waste o' the
+powther, barrin' the swate chance ye are losing now o' a comfortable
+frolic. Arrah, now, Dennis darlin', a sup o' the whisky for me, a
+thrifle sthrong, an' ye plaze. It's a could night to be out wi' an
+empty stoomach."
+
+"Stay till the morning, father," said Biddy, coming up to him with an
+anxious face; "we cannot kape peace an' ye do not bide wi' us; the
+frolic will be all the better an' ye stay to the orderin' o' it,--and
+the best bed is waitin' yer riverence's convanience. There's Sandy and
+Mike will fight an' ye lave, and Katy there is ready to tear out the
+eyes o' big Nelly Murphy. It's quarrelling they've been the whole
+blessed day. Bide with us, lest the dear childer who is the cause o'
+it all should be kilt and murdered intirely, an' she sthrays home
+to-night."
+
+She spoke in a low voice, and he replied in the same tone, drawing her
+back from the crowd, who were all talking together.
+
+"Look here, Biddy Dillon," he said; "the girl must lave that grand
+house and come home to live here with you."
+
+"Lave Miss Annie, do ye mane, sir?"
+
+"Small hope for her sowl an' she do not."
+
+"And few are the pennies I can bring to yer riverence when the child
+has no wages to bring home o' a Saturday. Sorra a hap'orth to spare
+will I find; it's no me two hands alone can find bread for the mouths
+o' all, and--"
+
+"Stuff and nonsense!" interrupted the priest; "there's many another
+place can be had for a sthrong, likely lass like her. Good servants
+are not over plenty, and she can be better placed."
+
+"But where, I would like ye to tell? It's in a Protestant family she
+must be, an' she goes out to service at all."
+
+"Yes; but they'll let her alone in some houses. Sorra a bit do the
+most o' them care what becomes o' the sowl, an' the work be done to
+their liking. Our Lady be praised! it's to the far counthrees that the
+Protestant missionaries are sent, and the silver is given; for
+one-half o' the pains taken wi' the poor crathurs who work in their
+kitchens would have ruined us all."
+
+"Yer riverence spakes thrue, to be shure," said Biddy; "but for all
+that, it will never be a bit o' use to thry to make a good Catholic o'
+Norah, now that she can read the big books and talk so bravely
+herself. An' it were to be the savin' o' her life, she would never
+confess to a praste again, or take the holy wafer from his hands. But
+if ye would take it aisy and lave it to me, and persuade these
+meddlesome boobies to mind their own particular business, and
+throuble us no more, it's meself would be sure to bring the handsome
+sum to yer riverence when I come to confession. Contrariwise, you see,
+and you kape fussing, and they kape fussing, it's all loss it is to
+ye, and no gain."
+
+The priest's countenance brightened perceptibly. He seemed much
+impressed with Biddy's view of the case, and was not slow to perceive
+its worldly wisdom. So, after addressing the waiting company to some
+purpose, he left them.
+
+But Biddy sat thoughtfully in a corner, with her lame boy. She had, in
+her conversation with the priest, cunningly hit on an expedient to
+propitiate him for a time, but she was ill at ease. She could not at
+once throw off the chains of teaching that had bound her all her life;
+and so dim was the light that she had received, that she dared not yet
+follow it.
+
+"Oh, then, it's a jewel she is, core o' me heart, Norah dear!"
+
+The last two words were whispered so loud that Phelim heard them, and
+he said, "I've seen her to-night, mother."
+
+"Who? Spake aisy, mavourneen."
+
+"Our Norah."
+
+"When?" questioned his mother, with an anxious glance at the unheeding
+revellers.
+
+"Afther dusk. I thought ye would like her to kape away to-night."
+
+"Now blessings on ye for a handy callant as ye are," said Biddy,
+patting his shoulder approvingly. "An' how is she?"
+
+"Well as ever, mother, and kind-tempered and good too. A power of good
+things she has sent, and they're safe hid in the cellar. The money is
+in me coat pocket, mother. Shall I give it ye?"
+
+"Not now. Kape it till all be gone. Was she sorry or mad, Phelim?"
+
+"Mad? Not at all. Sorry? I don't know at all. Her voice was all
+courage and kindness; but I saw big tears on her cheek, for all that."
+
+The mother and son sat silently looking into the fire for a few
+moments. At last Phelim spoke. "Mother," said the boy, "ye'll not have
+them abuse her and torment her, just for changing into such a dear
+crathur?"
+
+"She's a heretic, lad."
+
+"What o' that? She's good, any way," said Phelim stoutly. "I would I
+were a big man. We'd see who would throuble her then. It's a thrashin'
+they'd get, an' it's manners they'd learn, and no charges made for the
+teaching."
+
+"Whisht, lad! it's careful and sly we must be. An' do ye not bother
+yer poor head wi' yer sister's new notions. It's a nation o' throuble
+I'd have with a pair o' ye at once; and ye're no earning money,
+Phelim, boy, to buy off the praste. Kape a still tongue, lad, an' ye
+bite it in two; an' don't go for to meddle wi' matters concerning yer
+sowl. The praste an' yer poor mother will kape a sharp look-out; an'
+it will go hard, shure, if between us ye are not saved at last."
+
+"But, mother, where is the harm if I look for meself a bit? Who can
+see Norah, so gentle and loving, so careful o' you and me, so pleasant
+to every one, and not want to know more o' the way she has taken?"
+
+"Yes, yes, lad; but have ye no sense at all? What if ye have been
+tould a secret, can ye not kape it the same? Now mind, once for all;
+ye're not to know it at all, if Norah brings home the Word o' the Lord
+to read to her ould ignorant mother (it's a swate voice she has), and
+ye shall hear the big Book as well; only mind, Phelim, acushla, ye're
+to know nothing at all, let who will spake to ye o' the same."
+
+"Yes; but, mother, what if I myself learn to--"
+
+"Hush!--Is it o' me ye are spaking?" asked Biddy, turning to a cluster
+of people who had drawn near them. "It's no hearty I feel to-night,
+and poor lame Phelim is kaping me company. Is it room for the dance ye
+are wanting? The other is the roomiest, and the floor is the
+plainest."
+
+Hurrying out with ready good-will to assist in the needful
+preparations, Biddy soon removed any suspicions that might have been
+entertained in the minds of any of her neighbours of any leaning on
+her part toward heresy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+BIDDY DILLON BECOMES A "HERETIC."
+
+
+Several months passed quietly by. It was winter, and the heaviest snow
+that had fallen within the memory of that personage so universally
+known and respected--namely, the oldest inhabitant--now lay upon the
+ground; and all in town and country who were partial to the exercise
+of skating could enjoy it freely. But the severe cold confined the
+delicate invalids to their heated rooms, and fair Annie Lee again
+found herself shut up to the tiresome routine of sick-room pleasures,
+only varied by intervals of suffering. The pleasure, however,
+predominated. She seemed almost to forget her pain and increasing
+languor in her unceasing efforts to instruct her young nurse.
+
+Annorah, on her part, thirsted for knowledge, especially for the
+wisdom that cometh from above. She improved, too, rapidly enough to
+satisfy a less partial teacher. In the varied arts of housewifery, and
+in the more intricate use of the needle, she had also become quite
+expert, and, to use Mrs. Lee's own words, "was quite a treasure in
+every part of the house."
+
+Little lame Phelim came for an hour each afternoon to Miss Annie's
+room to be made a "schollard, shure;" and every Saturday evening found
+Annorah, with her Bible, seated by her mother's fireside, reading, and
+in her own earnest but uncouth manner expounding the truths she read.
+
+One Sabbath evening in March, Father M'Clane set out for a walk to
+Mrs. Dillon's cottage. His prospects and reflections had been of a
+grave and sad character throughout the day, and his threadbare coat
+and lean purse had been more than usually suggestive of the great
+truth, that all earthly comforts are fleeting and transitory.
+
+For the first time Biddy had that day absented herself from the
+Catholic chapel. Annorah had lately added to her Scripture reading,
+"Kirwan's Letters to Archbishop Hughes." She read it to her mother
+whenever a spare hour enabled her to run home. Biddy had been greatly
+interested in the appeals and arguments of her talented countryman,
+and deeply impressed by his life-like delineation of the follies and
+superstitions of the Romish ritual.
+
+"It's rasonable he is intirely," she said, "and a bright son o' the
+ould counthree, blessin's on it! It's him who spakes well o' the poor
+ruined crathers, and praises us all for the natural generous-sowled
+people we are. He knows us intirely, Norah dear. Shure he's a
+wonderful man and a bould, let alone the thrue son o' ould Ireland,
+for doing the beautiful thing. Read us one more letther, mavourneen,
+before ye are off, and lave the book here. Mayhap Phelim will spell
+out a morsel or so when the Sabbath even is coom."
+
+"You will not go to confession to-morrow, dear mother?" said Annorah.
+
+"Not I," replied Biddy firmly.
+
+"It goes to my heart, mother, that the money we earn so hardly, and
+which should be kept to comfort your old age, should go for nothing,
+or worse."
+
+"I will do it no more. Make yer heart aisy, honey. Never a penny o'
+mine will the praste hould in his hand again."
+
+"He will visit you, mother."
+
+"An' what o' that? Let him coom. He is welcome an' he minds his own
+business, and only dhraps in for a bit o' gossip; but an' he
+interferes in me private consarns, it's soon he'll find himself
+relaved o' all throuble on account o' us."
+
+Annorah saw that there was no reason now to fear that her mother would
+be overawed by the priest; but she still lingered anxiously. Her
+mother saw the shade on her face, and asked,--
+
+"What is it, Norah? Are you in throuble?"
+
+"Do not quarrel with him, mother," replied the daughter.
+
+"Let him be dacent, and it's ceevil treatment he'll get; but no man
+shall browbeat me on me own floor," said Biddy, in a tone which
+declared the firmness of her purpose.
+
+It was on the night succeeding this conversation, that Father M'Clane
+visited the cottage. As he approached the house he paused at the
+unusual sound of a voice reading. It was Phelim imperfectly spelling
+out to his mother and a few of the neighbours one of the letters of
+Kirwan. The priest, who was not remarkably well versed in the books of
+the day, did not know the work, but supposed that it was the Bible to
+which they were so profoundly listening. His face grew as dark as the
+night shades around him.
+
+"I've caught ye at last!" he exclaimed, as, without ceremony, he burst
+into the room. "This tells the story. It's not that ye are ill in bed,
+or hindered by the rain, or the could; it's because ye are heretics
+all, that ye shun the confession and the holy mass. Do ye know what
+the Church has power to do wi' the like o' ye? Arrah! it was the
+heavenly and not the mortal wisdom that made the hot fires o'
+purgatory for such. Small help will ye get from me when the flames are
+scorching ye. Never a mass shall be said for a sowl o' ye, unless ye
+repent at once."
+
+"And what call have ye to spake the like o' that," said Biddy, "and me
+sitting peaceably by me own fire wi' the neighbours?" She spoke in a
+low, uncertain tone, for his sudden appearance had startled her. A
+hush had fallen on the little assembly, and signs of terror flitted
+across the faces of the most timid, as the familiar voice of the
+priest recalled their old Popish fears. He was not slow to perceive
+this, or to take advantage of it.
+
+"And who taught yer lame boy to read at all? Who brought the heretic
+Bible into yer house? And who gathered the poor neighbours together to
+hear the false words that lead to perdition? Answer me that, Misthress
+Dillon," said the priest in a tone of anger.
+
+Biddy did not reply, though she had quite regained her usual courage.
+
+"I'll ask ye a plain question, Biddy Dillon, and I want a straight
+answer. Will ye, or will ye not, give up these heretic doings, and
+stay in the communion o' the holy Church?"
+
+"An' it plaze yer riverence," replied Biddy, no ways disconcerted,
+"yer blessed saints are nothing to me; an' I shall do as I plaze."
+
+"Hear the woman! Do you hear the bould blasphemer?" he exclaimed.
+
+"An' what if they do hear? It were a sore pity they should be sthruck
+deaf to plaze ye," replied Biddy, her eyes flashing with excitement.
+"I would ye were in ould Ireland, or, for the matther o' that, in
+purgatory itself."
+
+"We would--" said the priest.
+
+"No doubt o' it. But it's here I am, at yer service," interrupted
+Biddy.
+
+"Yes, and it's here ye've been bought for a wee pinch o' tae and a few
+poor, lean chickens. Sowl and body ye've been bought, and a mighty
+poor bargain have the blind purchasers made o' it."
+
+"Plazing yer riverence, ye know nought o' what ye are saying, and
+small throuble ye'll make wi' yer idle words. It's not a turkey, duck,
+or hen could buy Biddy Dillon. Ye've tried it yerself, father, and so
+ye know."
+
+"It's a black heart ye have," said the priest, whose courage was
+hardly equal to his anger, and whose valour speedily cooled before
+resolute opposition. "It's blacker than ink ye are, Biddy Dillon,
+with the wicked heresy."
+
+Like most Irish women, Biddy was well skilled in the art of scolding,
+and among her neighbours was considered rather more expert in the
+business than themselves. When angry, abusive epithets seemed to fall
+as naturally from her tongue as expressions of endearment when she was
+pleased.
+
+"A black heart, did ye say?" she cried, rising and facing the priest,
+who involuntarily retired a step from her; "the same to yerself! An'
+ye were bathed in Lough Ennel, and rinsed in the Shannon at Athlone,
+it would not half clane out the vile tricks ye are so perfect in. A
+black heart has Biddy Dillon? An' ye were ducked and soaked over night
+in the Liffey mud at Dublin, ye were claner than now? A black heart?
+An' yerself an ould penshioner, idle and mane, stirrin' up a scrimmage
+in an honest woman's house, and repeating yer haythenish nonsense, an'
+ye able and sthrong to take hould o' the heaviest end o' the work! Are
+ye not ashamed? What are ye good for?"
+
+"The saints preserve us! what a tongue the woman has!" exclaimed
+Father M'Clane, making a futile effort to smile, as he turned his
+face, now pale as death, toward the company. "But I have no time to
+stay longer. I warn ye all, my friends, to kape away from this
+accursed house, and to turn a deaf ear to all that is said to ye here.
+Your souls are in peril. Ye are almost caught in the snare. Ye should
+run for yer lives before ye perish entirely. I shall remember you,
+Biddy Dillon."
+
+"In course ye will. An' ye show yerself here again, barrin' as a
+peaceable frind or ould acquaintance, ye'll find yerself remimbered
+too, honey."
+
+There was a silence of some minutes after the priest left the house.
+It was broken by the most timid of the party.
+
+"Afther all, Biddy, my heart misgives me. Of what use are all the
+prayers on the beads, the Hail Marys, and the penance, the fasting
+from meat on Fridays, or even the blessed salt o' our baptism, if we
+anger the praste, and he refuse to give us the holy oil at the last?
+What will become o' us then?"
+
+"What can a wicked ould praste do to help us? It's God alone can
+strengthen us then. I wouldn't give a penny for the oil. It's a
+betther way, darlin', that God has provided for us. It's a brave story
+that Phelim is waiting to read to us. There's thruth and sense in it,
+too, ye will find.--It's a fine counthree is this, Masther Barry, and
+a free," added Biddy, turning to a stout man, who, with scarcely a
+whole article in his apparel, was lounging in the shade of a corner.
+
+"Thrue for ye," he replied,--"though it's little I get out of it,
+barrin' the sup o' whisky wi' my supper."
+
+"But ye might--the more shame it is. Ye are weel-conditioned and
+hearty. It's no the counthree is to blame, neighbour, nor Katy indade.
+She works night and day for ye an' the childer. Ye are better here
+than over the sae."
+
+"Oh, then, I don't know. When I came to this counthree, I had never a
+rag to me back, an' now, faith, I'm nothing but rags. A fine, illigant
+counthree!"
+
+"Lave the liquor alone, Peter Barry, and ye may have the best of the
+land for yerself. An' ye would give up the dhrinking, a better lad
+could not be found, nor a handsomer."
+
+"It's too sthrong for me. It's many a day have I given it up for ever,
+and been drunk as a beast in an hour. But to-night, says Katy to me,
+'It's the heretic Bible as is read at Mrs. Dillon's has a cure in it
+for weak sinners like you, Peter dear.' So I came to hear a bit o' the
+Bible, an' ye plaze."
+
+So Kirwan's Letters were laid aside, and a New Testament brought out.
+Phelim read very poorly, and was often obliged to spell over the long
+words, and did not always succeed in giving the correct pronunciation;
+but no fault was found by his eager listeners. He read how Christ
+healed the leper, and poor Peter Barry found in the story a word of
+encouragement for him. He read of the Saviour's gracious compassion
+for the hungering multitude; and his ignorant auditors praised the
+divine Being who so sympathized with mortal infirmities. Phelim was
+often interrupted by remarks or approving comments, but these in no
+way diminished the interest of the sacred story.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+ANNIE'S DEATH--ANNORAH'S PROSPECTS.
+
+
+On every pleasant evening Biddy Dillon's cottage was thronged by those
+who came to listen to the Word of God. It was in vain that Father
+M'Clane opposed these meetings. His threats and arguments, once so
+potent, seemed now but to lessen his power. He even secured the
+services of a neighbouring priest, and with him visited each Irish
+family in succession, coaxing and flattering where his authority was
+not acknowledged. But, alas for him and his prospects! he could do
+nothing with the people.
+
+The Protestant clergyman of the village, when he heard of the interest
+felt in lame Phelim's reading, readily came to their assistance, and
+joyfully read and explained the divine lessons. As their knowledge of
+the right way increased, their impressions of its importance to them
+personally were deepened, and Annorah soon had the happiness of seeing
+not only her mother and brother bowing at the foot of the cross of
+Christ, but many others earnestly seeking the salvation of their
+souls.
+
+The little Irish neighbourhood had been named New Dublin. It stood
+quite by itself, a thick belt of wood and the narrow mill-stream
+isolating it from the large village, where Mr. Lee's residence stood.
+Nothing but the smoke, which in summer as well as in winter is ever
+pouring from Irish chimneys, revealed to a visitor the existence of
+their pleasant hamlet. Still it was not so far retired but that, when
+a wake was held for the dead, the noise of the revelry seriously
+disturbed their quieter neighbours; and when a row ensued, as was
+often the case, the distant uproar alarmed as well as annoyed the
+timid women and children. But no one thought of interfering. The
+wealthy owners of the iron-works and factories in the vicinity were
+glad to secure their labour, because of its cheapness, and never
+troubled themselves about an occasional noise, if the general
+interests of their business were not neglected.
+
+There were not wanting those who pitied their low estate, and who
+would have sincerely rejoiced in their elevation; but until poor
+invalid Annie Lee began to instruct Annorah, no one had dreamed of
+winning them, by self-sacrifice and kindness, to a knowledge of the
+truth. Annie herself, while patiently explaining over and over again
+what seemed to her as simple and plain as possible, little imagined
+the glorious results that were indirectly to grow out of her feeble
+efforts. But God watches the least attempt to do good, and fosters the
+tiniest seed sown; and Annie, without knowing it, was sowing seed for
+a plenteous harvest.
+
+But while the good work prospered, she herself was rapidly ripening
+for heaven. She knew that she was hastening to a better land, even a
+heavenly; and she strove to improve every moment of the time that
+remained, in efforts to give stability to Annorah's religious
+feelings. Many were the conversations that they had together on the
+condition of the poor Irish people, and countless almost were the
+directions that Annorah received in regard to the best methods of
+winning their love and confidence. Young as she was, Annie had
+learned that all efforts to benefit the unfortunate or ignorant are
+vain so long as the cold shoulder is turned towards them. She had
+proved in Annorah's case the magic effect of loving words and
+sympathy.
+
+As the spring advanced, Annie grew weaker. The mild air seemed to
+enervate rather than to brace her system, and she grew daily more
+emaciated. Her paroxysms of pain were less frequent, and she suffered
+most from languor and drowsiness. It was apparent to all but her fond
+parents that her days were numbered. They watched over her with the
+tenderest affection, hoping when there was no hope, and persuading
+themselves and each other that she would rally again when the ripe
+summer brought its gentle breezes and beautiful blossoms.
+
+"She is so fond of flowers and of the open air," said Mrs. Lee to
+Annorah, when, after an unusually restless and painful day, Annie had
+fallen asleep at last, and both left the room to breathe the fresh
+evening air. "When the weather gets settled so that she can let you
+draw her little carriage down by the mill-stream again, she will
+brighten up and get stronger. It is enough to make a well person ill,
+to be shut up so long."
+
+"Ye know best, shure," said Annorah, in her grief resuming her
+national accent and brogue--"Ye know best, but it's thinner and weaker
+she's getting, and is a baby for weight in me arms. Och! the dark day
+it will be for poor Norah when she looks her last on that swate angel
+face!" And the poor girl burst into tears, and covered her face with
+her apron. After a few moments she went on to say,--"It'll go hard wi'
+ye all, Mrs. Lee: ye'll miss her dear ways an' her heavenly smiles;
+she is yer own blood, were she not an angel intirely. But oh, ma'am,
+she's been to me what no words can tell; and the short life o' me will
+seem without end till I go to wait on her above. Oh, what'll I do
+without her, when the whole world is dark as night?"
+
+Mrs. Lee could not reply, for she, too, was weeping. There was
+something in Annorah's desolate tone that went to her heart, and
+inspired a pitying affection for the plain-looking girl by her side,
+which she would once have thought impossible. She began to comprehend
+the mystery of Annie's caressing manner to her young nurse.
+
+"Annorah, my poor girl," she faltered at length.
+
+"Ah, ma'am, in all me troubles, and when I was wickedest, was it not
+her voice that was full and sweet with the pleasant encouragement? Oh,
+core o' me heart, acushla, what'll I do? what'll I do?"
+
+"We must trust in God, Annorah. If he takes her from us, it will be
+for the best, and we must learn to say, 'His will be done.' She will
+leave us her lovely example to guide us, and we shall not forget how
+she strove to do good. We shall be lonely; but is it not selfish in us
+to wish her to stay here and suffer? God knows what is best for us
+all."
+
+It was but a little time that they were permitted to hope. Fair Annie
+Lee's appointed work was done, her mission of love was accomplished,
+and she was ready to depart. Shut up by her protracted illness from
+all the ordinary paths of usefulness, she had found out a way to work
+in her Saviour's service. Long will it be ere her gentle acts of
+kindness will be forgotten, or her precious influence cease to be felt
+by those who knew her.
+
+She died suddenly, perhaps unconsciously at last. Annorah had placed
+her couch so that she could see the beautiful changes in the rich June
+sunset; and when she returned after a moment's absence to her side,
+she found that, with a sweet smile of joyous triumph on her lips, she
+had fallen asleep in Jesus.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Annorah, although greatly refined by reading and association with
+educated people, and especially improved by the happy influence of
+true religion, yet retains enough of the characteristics of her nation
+to make her an acceptable visitor in the humblest cottage in New
+Dublin. It was long after the death of her young mistress before she
+regained her usual cheerfulness. But time, the great healer of sorrow,
+has gradually softened her grief, and made her cherished memories of
+Miss Annie, like beautiful pictures, very pleasant to look upon.
+
+
+FINIS
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note
+
+Minor typographic punctuation errors have been corrected without note.
+
+The frontispiece illustration has been moved to follow the title page.
+
+There is a large amount of dialect in this book, which all remains as
+printed in the original text. This includes some variable spelling,
+e.g. crather--crathur, plase--plaze.
+
+Page 55--Sharron amended to Shannon--"... and rinsed in the Shannon at
+Athlone ..."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Live to be Useful, by Anonymous
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