know he'll suffer when I'm gone. May the Lord pity and give him
strength!--for I can say on my dyin' bed that, from the first day I
ever seen his face until now, he never gave me a harsh word or an unkind
look, an' that you all know."

"Oh how could he, mother dear? how could any one give you that? Who
was it that ever knew you could trate you with anything but respect and
affection?"

"I hope I always struv to do my duty, Bryan, towards God an' my
childre', and my fellow-creatures; an' for that raison I'm not
frightened at death. An', Bryan, listen to the words of your dyin'
mother--"

"Oh, don't say that yet, mother," replied her son, sobbing; "don't say
so yet; who knows but God will spare your life, an' that you may be many
years with us still; they're all alarmed too much, I hope; but it's no
wondher we should, mother dear, when there's any appearance at all of
danger about you."

"Well, whether or not, Bryan, the advice I'm goin' to give you is
never out o' saison. Live always with the fear of God in your heart;
do nothing that you think will displease Him; love your
fellow-creatures--serve them and relieve their wants an' distresses as
far as you're able; be like your own father--kind and good to all about
you, not neglectin' your religious duties. Do this, Bryan, an' then when
the hour o' death comes, you'll feel a comfort an' happiness in your
heart that neither the world nor anything in it can give you. You'll
feel the peace of God there, an' you will die happy--happy."

Her spirit, animated by the purity and religious truth of this simple
but beautiful morality, kindled into pious fervor as she proceeded,
so much so indeed, that on turning her eyes towards heaven, whilst she
uttered the last words, they sparkled with the mild and serene light of
that simple but unconscious enthusiasm on behalf of all goodness which
had characterized her whole life, and which indeed is a living principle
among thousands of her humble countrywomen.

"This, dear Bryan, is the advice I gave to them all; it an' my love is
the only legacy I have to lave them. An' my darlin' Dora, Bryan--oh, if
you be kind and tendher to any one o' them beyant another, be so to
her. My darlin'Dora! Oh! her heart's all affection, an' kindness, an'
generosity. But indeed, as I said, Bryan, the task must fall to you to
strengthen and console every one o' them. Ay!--an' you must begin now.
You wor ever, ever, a good son; an' may God keep you in