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diff --git a/24956-h/24956-h.htm b/24956-h/24956-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..10714f0 --- /dev/null +++ b/24956-h/24956-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2664 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <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> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + a {text-decoration: none;} + + img {border: none;} + + em {font-style: italic;} + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-style: normal; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; padding: 1em; margin-top: 3em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 2em;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .tdl {text-align: left; vertical-align: top;} /* left align cell */ + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<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’S PLAN.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II.</b></a></td> + <td class="tdl">ANNORAH’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’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—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 “HERETIC.”</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII.</b></a></td> + <td class="tdl">ANNIE’S DEATH—ANNORAH’S PROSPECTS.</td> + </tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 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’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 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>“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.”</p> + +<p>“What is the matter with him?” asked her +mother.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +his crutches while Biddy is washing without +thanking God for my happier fate.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Annie, it is not probable that he suffers +one-half as much as you do.”</p> + +<p>“As much <em>pain</em>, do you mean, mamma?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +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?”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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">“‘O Ireland, green Ireland,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swate gem o’ the sae!’”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“How did you learn this?”</p> + +<p>“From Phelim. I speak to him sometimes +when he plays under the window.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know how we can help them. +If we should offer to teach them, they would not +be willing to learn.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sure of it, mamma?”</p> + +<p>“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 9]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Object! You shall have whatever you like, +if it can be procured. What is it, Annie?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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 10]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“I should hope so. But your plan, Annie?”</p> + +<p>“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—”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Are you really in earnest, Annie?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; and very anxious to be indulged in my +strange plan.”</p> + +<p>“Have you thought how awkward she will be +in assisting you?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +“I have thought of it all, over and over,” replied +Annie, “and I think she will make a good +nurse for me.”</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’s pleading look at length decided +her.</p> + +<p>“You wish very much to try this wild-goose +plan!” she said, resuming the conversation.</p> + +<p>“Very much, mamma,” replied Annie.</p> + +<p>“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?”</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>“You have a daughter, I believe?” said +Mrs. Lee.</p> + +<p>“Two of them, an’ ye plaze, ma’am,” replied +Biddy, wiping her arms as she spoke.</p> + +<p>“Are they both at home?”</p> + +<p>“It’s Bessie that is in service; and it’s only +Annorah that’s at home, shure.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +“What is Annorah doing?” inquired Mrs. Lee.</p> + +<p>“Doing?” repeated Biddy wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“I mean, how does she get her living?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“That is unfortunate.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Coom! Why, this very hour, an’ ye like. +A blessin’ on yer swate, pale face!” said Biddy, +looking pityingly towards Annie.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Leave her to me, mamma,” said Annie. “I +think, Mrs. Dillon, that there will be no trouble. +What did you say is her name?”</p> + +<p>“Annorah, an’ ye plaze, miss.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +“Annorah? Very well. When shall she +come, mamma?”</p> + +<p>“Not until Monday, I think,” replied Mrs. Lee. +Then turning to Mrs. Dillon, she added, “You +may send her on Monday.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>ANNORAH’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’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’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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +“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.”</p> + +<p>“I can do most anything, ma’am,” answered +the girl resolutely.</p> + +<p>“Indeed! Well, let me see how you would +manage to place Annie on the bed when she is +tired of the sofa.”</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>“I think you may be satisfied, mamma,” she +said; “I never was moved easier.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee began to think better of Annie’s +plan, and joined quite cordially in her daughter’s +mirth.</p> + +<p>“And if she were too tired to rest in any +position, what would you do?”</p> + +<p>“Carry her to the windows, or out in the air, +for a change.—Will ye plaze to thry it, Miss +Annie?”</p> + +<p>“Not now, Annorah.” Then looking towards +her mother, she said, “Mamma, you may be +easy; Annorah and I shall get on famously together.”</p> + +<p>Thus assured, Mrs. Lee left them, and went +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 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>“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.”</p> + +<p>“It’s two years, miss, coom April.”</p> + +<p>“So lately? Then you remember all about +the old country?”</p> + +<p>“Remember! An’ it’s me that’ll niver forget +that same. The beautiful counthree it is!”</p> + +<p>“Pleasanter than this, do you think?”</p> + +<p>“A thousand times. There is no place in the +world like it; the dear ould counthree!”</p> + +<p>“Why, then, did you leave it, Annorah?”</p> + +<p>“Bad luck we had, miss; and a worse luck +intirely here, the mane town that this is.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me all about it.”</p> + +<p>“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 16]</a></span> +vagabonds?” asked the girl, her small eyes kindling +with a sense of imaginary insult.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +“How many of you came, Annorah?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Poor Annorah!” exclaimed Annie pityingly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Did you like the passage across from Ireland?”</p> + +<p>“No, indade.”</p> + +<p>“Were you sea-sick?”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +quarrelled, and the young ones were aye cross or +sick; and a bad time they made of it all.”</p> + +<p>“Did you come directly here?”</p> + +<p>“No; we stayed where we landed for seven +weeks, till we got word to our cousin.”</p> + +<p>“And since you have been here, Annorah, +what have you been doing? Have you been to +school?”</p> + +<p>“No; the praste forbade.”</p> + +<p>“Poor thing! Then you cannot read?”</p> + +<p>“How should I know reading, I’d like to +know? Who would teach me that same?”</p> + +<p>“Many good people would like to do it, if you +would like to learn.”</p> + +<p>“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.’”</p> + +<p>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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“An’ so we are, shure. Sorra a bit will the +praste get from me about you here.”</p> + +<p>“If he were a good man, a noble, honourable +man,” said Annie, “do you think he would ask +you—”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“It were jist putting before me eyes the +maneness of the man. Is that nothing at all, +and he a praste?”</p> + +<p>“Well, well, Annorah, we will say no more +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +about him now. I am tired, and must rest. +You won’t mind being still a while?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“I will try to sleep.”</p> + +<p>“But ye cannot kape still. The pain is +shure too great. Let me carry you about a +little.”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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’.”</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>“Ye’re light as down, honey,” said Annorah, +as she met Annie’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’s shoulder. Mrs. +Lee opened the door and looked in.</p> + +<p>“Whist!” said Annorah, in a low, impatient +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +whisper. “Kape quiet, will ye, and let the poor +lamb slape!”</p> + +<p>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.</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>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +“An’ if she spake ill o’ the praste and the +holy Church, how then, Annorah?” asked Mrs. +Dillon, eying her daughter rather curiously.</p> + +<p>“Blessed little good can <em>we</em> 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.”</p> + +<p>“Does she spake o’ the Catholic Church +Norah?” asked her mother.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 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’s house +there was an old mill, long since deserted and +unused.</p> + +<p>This was a favourite resort of Annie’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 “confession,” it was +easy to keep her secret from them. Annie was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 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’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.</p> + +<p>“Tell me, Annorah,” she said, after the usual +time had been spent in reading, “does Father +M‘Clane know that you can read yet?”</p> + +<p>“Not he, indade.”</p> + +<p>“Does he not question you?”</p> + +<p>“Not exactly. He says I spake better English, +and that shure it is because I live where it is well +spoken.”</p> + +<p>“What did you say to that?”</p> + +<p>“I said. ‘True, your riverence.’”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid that is hardly the truth, Annorah. +If anything has improved your language, it is +your reading.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +“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.”</p> + +<p>“Not the whole truth, Annorah.”</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‘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.</p> + +<p>“I said that you did not tell him the whole +truth.”</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>“Why, Annorah?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +“I, Annorah? What does he know of me?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing at all, savin’ that ye are a saint, +and he an ould—”</p> + +<p>“Stop, stop, Annorah. We must not speak +evil of any one. I hope that you were civil in +your reply.”</p> + +<p>“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.’”</p> + +<p>“And shall you not go again?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +poor girl, you will meet much opposition. I am +afraid that your family will join with the priest +in opposing you.”</p> + +<p>“Let them. I’ll fight them all with pleasure—more +especially the praste.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Is it the new heart, miss, that makes you so +sweet and patient?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +“Why, then, I can coom as soon as the grandest. +<em>How</em> shall I coom?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“An’ did he?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</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>“What is there, Annorah?” asked Annie, in +alarm.</p> + +<p>“Only a sarpint, miss.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +“Well, let us hasten home. Mamma will be +anxious.”</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‘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’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>“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!”</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 30]</a></span> +beginning to sing too, she commenced talking +again.</p> + +<p>“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.”</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’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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +“Do you know that your daughter is a heretic?” +was his first question.</p> + +<p>“Indade, no, yer riverence,” replied Biddy.</p> + +<p>“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—”</p> + +<p>“<em>Read!</em>” interrupted the astonished woman.</p> + +<p>“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.”</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: +“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!”</p> + +<p>“I came to your riverence for spiritual good,” +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 32]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“Annorah!” exclaimed her mother, “do you +dare to spake in that way o’ the praste himself?”</p> + +<p>“I mean no harm, mother.”</p> + +<p>“No harm!” repeated Father M‘Clane, turning +fiercely toward her. “You won’t cheat me +with words like these.”</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>“Come, come, Annorah,” he said, “let us be +friends. It’s me that’s ould enough, and willing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“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?</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</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>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“It’s God’s truth, mother, that he has given +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, an’ the praste tells us the same, +it saves us a world o’ bother, shure.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sure it’s all thrue?” asked Biddy, +her eyes wide open with astonishment.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +of the saints. Everybody is invited to pray +straight up to God himself.”</p> + +<p>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.”</p> + +<p>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 <em>her</em> child could read and write.</p> + +<p>“An’ it’s not all a queer drame,” she said; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +“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.”</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’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.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 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’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.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Phelim? What is the matther, +dear?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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:—</p> + +<p>“I’ve been making some caps for mother; but +ye’re no able to carry so many things at once, +poor fellow.”</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>“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!”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 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’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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Do ye mean, will I teach you to read?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll speak to Miss Annie about it. Hurry +home as fast as you can. Good-night, and God +bless you.”</p> + +<p>With an affectionate kiss they parted; and +Annorah went slowly back to her young mistress’s +room.</p> + +<p>“How is this, Annorah?” asked Mrs. Lee, as +she entered. “How happened you to return so +soon?”</p> + +<p>“I have not been home, an’ ye please, ma’am.”</p> + +<p>“Are you not going to-night?” asked Annie, +raising her head from her pillow, and noticing, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +with a little anxiety, the unusual expression of +her attendant’s face.</p> + +<p>“It’s Phelim, my brother, miss, has been here, +and it’s a house full o’ company there is at home.”</p> + +<p>“And they want you to spend the holy Sabbath +to-morrow in visiting them, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“No, Miss Annie.”</p> + +<p>“What then?” asked Mrs. Lee, after a moment’s +silence.</p> + +<p>“Nothing to speak of, ma’am. Leastways +nothing to trouble ye about.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! Annorah, my dear nurse, I was afraid +that rougher times awaited you. I was afraid +they would persecute you.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +“But they haven’t yet, Miss Annie.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>THE CONFESSIONAL—AN IRISH FROLIC.</h3> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was, therefore, no affectionate, loving circle +that had now assembled to “bear a hand” in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +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.</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‘Clane into their +midst, and his imperative command that each one +should sit down quietly and “hould his tongue.”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</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>“Look here, Biddy Dillon,” he said; “the +girl must lave that grand house and come home +to live here with you.”</p> + +<p>“Lave Miss Annie, do ye mane, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Small hope for her sowl an’ she do not.”</p> + +<p>“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 45]</a></span> +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—”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>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.</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>“Oh, then, it’s a jewel she is, core o’ me heart, +Norah dear!”</p> + +<p>The last two words were whispered so loud +that Phelim heard them, and he said, “I’ve seen +her to-night, mother.”</p> + +<p>“Who? Spake aisy, mavourneen.”</p> + +<p>“Our Norah.”</p> + +<p>“When?” questioned his mother, with an anxious +glance at the unheeding revellers.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +“Afther dusk. I thought ye would like her +to kape away to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Now blessings on ye for a handy callant as ye +are,” said Biddy, patting his shoulder approvingly. +“An’ how is she?”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“Not now. Kape it till all be gone. Was +she sorry or mad, Phelim?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>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?”</p> + +<p>“She’s a heretic, lad.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +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.”</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but, mother, what if I myself learn +to—”</p> + +<p>“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? +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +The other is the roomiest, and the floor is the +plainest.”</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 “HERETIC.”</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—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.</p> + +<p>Annorah, on her part, thirsted for knowledge, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 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’s own words, “was quite a treasure in +every part of the house.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +countryman, and deeply impressed by his life-like +delineation of the follies and superstitions of the +Romish ritual.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“You will not go to confession to-morrow, +dear mother?” said Annorah.</p> + +<p>“Not I,” replied Biddy firmly.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“I will do it no more. Make yer heart aisy, +honey. Never a penny o’ mine will the praste +hould in his hand again.”</p> + +<p>“He will visit you, mother.”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +in me private consarns, it’s soon he’ll find himself +relaved o’ all throuble on account o’ us.”</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,—</p> + +<p>“What is it, Norah? Are you in throuble?”</p> + +<p>“Do not quarrel with him, mother,” replied +the daughter.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 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’ 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.”</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>“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.</p> + +<p>Biddy did not reply, though she had quite regained +her usual courage.</p> + +<p>“I’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 54]</a></span> +ye not, give up these heretic doings, and stay in +the communion o’ the holy Church?”</p> + +<p>“An’ it plaze yer riverence,” replied Biddy, +no ways disconcerted, “yer blessed saints are +nothing to me; an’ I shall do as I plaze.”</p> + +<p>“Hear the woman! Do you hear the bould +blasphemer?” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“We would—” said the priest.</p> + +<p>“No doubt o’ it. But it’s here I am, at yer +service,” interrupted Biddy.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +opposition. “It’s blacker than ink ye are, Biddy +Dillon, with the wicked heresy.”</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>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</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>“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?”</p> + +<p>“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 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>“Thrue for ye,” he replied,—“though it’s +little I get out of it, barrin’ the sup o’ whisky +wi’ my supper.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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!”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>So Kirwan’s Letters were laid aside, and a New +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 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’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’S DEATH—ANNORAH’S PROSPECTS.</h3> + + +<p>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. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 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’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’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 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’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 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’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>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Ye know best, shure,” said Annorah, in her +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +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?”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“Annorah, my poor girl,” she faltered at +length.</p> + +<p>“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?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +“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.”</p> + +<p>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.</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’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 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—crathur, +plase—plaze.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_55">55</a>—Sharron amended to Shannon—"... 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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIVE TO BE USEFUL *** + +***** This file should be named 24956-h.htm or 24956-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/9/5/24956/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Sam W. and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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