uently dragged, as he had been, to the remotest
parts of the parish. Being an expert penman, he acted also as secretary
of grievances to the poor, who frequently employed him to draw up
petitions to obdurate landlords, or to their more obdurate agents, and
letters to soldiers in all parts of the world, from their anxious and
affectionate relations. All these little services he performed kindly
and promptly; many a blessing was fervently invoked upon his head; the
"good word" and "the prayer" were all they could afford, as they said,
"to the bouchal dhas oge * that tuck the world an him for sake o' the
larnin', an' that hasn't the kindliness o' the mother's breath an' the
mother's hand near him, the crathur."

* The pretty young boy. Boy in Ireland does not always
imply youth.

About the middle of the third year he was once more thrown upon the
general hospitality of the people. The three farmers with whom he had
lived for the preceding six months emigrated to America, as did many
others of that class which, in this country, most nearly approximates to
the substantial yeomanry of England. The little purse, too, which he
had placed in the hands of the kind priest, was exhausted; a season of
famine, sickness, and general distress had set in; and the master, on
understanding that he was without money, became diabolically savage.
In short, the boy's difficulties increased to a perplexing degree. Even
Thady and his grown companions, who usually interposed in his behalf
when the master became excessive in correcting him, had left the school,
and now the prospect before him was dark and cheerless indeed. For a few
months longer, however, he struggled on, meeting every difficulty with
meek endurance. From his very boyhood he had reverenced the sanctity of
religion, and was actuated by a strong devotional spirit. He trusted in
God, and worshipped Him night and morning with a sincere heart.

At this crisis he was certainly an object of pity; his clothes, which,
for some time before had been reduced to tatters, he had replaced by a
cast-off coat and small-clothes, a present from his friend the Curate,
who never abandoned him. This worthy young man could not afford him
money, for as he had but fifty pounds a year, with which to clothe,
subsist himself, keep a horse, and pay rent, it was hardly to be
expected that his benevolence could be extensive. In addition to this,
famine and contagious disease raged with formidable