s a child, I should say she better
deserved to be called a saint than many of those so honored by the
Church.

The father of Bridget was a warlike Irish chieftain, but a loyal
subject of the King of Leinster, and on one occasion, that monarch
bestowed upon him a rich sword, with the hilt set with costly jewels.
Now the peasants on this chieftain's estates were very poor--indeed,
suffering absolute starvation, and there was no one to help them, for
their lord had enough to do to fight his enemies, without feeding his
humble friends; and his wife, Bridget's stepmother, was a hard, cruel
woman. Poor little Bridget gave all her pocket-money, and sold all her
little keepsakes, for their relief, and still they were starving. At
last, she went to the armory and took down her father's idle, show
sword, and had the rich jewels taken out of the hilt and sold. With
the money she bought food, and saved the lives of several most worthy
but unfortunate families. When her father came home, she told him what
she had done. History does not say, but we can easily guess, what _he_
did. And that was not the last of it; soon after, the King came to her
father's house to dine, and having heard about the theft, called the
child up to him, and asked her how she had dared to do such a wicked
thing as to rob her father and deface the gift of a great monarch.
Now, we republicans can have very little idea of what it was to be
called up and spoken to in this way. Kings, in old times, were far
more terrible than they are now, and Irish kings were the most terrible
of all. But brave little Bridget, though she was only nine years old,
was not frightened by his black frown and thunder-like voice. She
stood up straight, and looked calmly into his angry eyes, as she
replied: "I have but bestowed thy gift upon a greater and a mightier
king than thou art--even Christ, who hath said that whatsoever we give
unto his poor children is given unto him."

In the neighborhood of Kildare, is Inch Castle, about which Mrs. S. C.
Hall tells a touching legend. Inch Castle was once in the possession
of the MacKellys--a proud and powerful family. Ulick, one of the sons
of the old lord, a handsome, gay, daring young man, but wild and
heartless, paid court to a beautiful peasant girl, named Oona More. He
won her love, and then, being very fickle, cruelly forsook her. Oona
was very good and gentle--she forgave her false lover, and would not
allow her brothers