d uncheered by those who are bound by a strong moral duty
to protect and aid him, he looks shuddering into the dark, cheerless
future! Is it to be wondered at that he, and such as he, should, in the
misery of his despair, join the nightly meetings, be lured to associate
himself with the incendiary, or seduced to grasp, in the stupid apathy
of wretchedness, the weapon of the murderer? By neglecting the people;
by draining them, with merciless rapacity, of the means of life; by
goading them on under a cruel system of rack rents, ye become not their
natural benefactors, but curses and scourges, nearly as much in reality
as ye are in their opinion.

When Owen rose, he was driven by hunger, direct and immediate, to sell
his best cow; and having purchased some oatmeal at an enormous price,
from a well-known devotee in the parish, who hoarded up this commodity
for a "dear summer," he laid his plans for the future, with as much
judgment as any man could display. One morning after breakfast he
addressed his wife as follows:

"Kathleen, mavourneen, I want to consult wid you about what we ought to
do; things are low wid us, asthore; and except our heavenly Father puts
it into the heart of them I'm goin' to mention, I don't know what well
do, nor what'll become of these poor crathurs that's naked and hungry
about us. God pity them, they don't know--and maybe that same's some
comfort--the hardships that's before them. Poor crathurs! see how quiet
and sorrowful they sit about their little play, passin' the time for
themselves as well as they can! Alley, acushla machree, come over to
me. Your hair is bright and fair, Alley, and curls so purtily that the
finest lady in the land might envy it; but, acushla, your color's gone,
your little hands are wasted away, too; that sickness was hard and sore
upon you, a _colleen machree_ (* girl of my heart) and he that 'ud spend
his heart's blood for you, darlin', can do nothin' to help you!"

He looked at the child as he spoke, and a slight motion in the muscles
of his face was barely preceptible, but it passed away; and, after
kissing her, he proceeded:

"Ay, ye crathurs--you and I, Kathleen, could earn our bread for
ourselves yet, but these can't do it. This last stroke, darlin', has
laid us at the door of both poverty and sickness, but blessed be the
mother of heaven for it, they are all left wid us; and sure that's a
blessin' we've to be thankful for--glory be to God!"

"Ay, poor things,