s from their
eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying,
neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed
away." The words made me think of them that are gone--of my father, and
his wife that was a true, fond mother to me; and above all, of my little
sister Mary, the _clureen bawn_[F] that nestled in her bosom.

I was a wild slip of a girl, ten years of age, and my brother Richard
about two years older, when my father brought home his second wife. She
was the daughter of a farmer up at Lackabawn, and was reared with care
and dacency; but her father held his ground at a rack-rent, and the
middleman that was between him and the head landlord did not pay his own
rent, so the place was ejected, and the farmer collected every penny he
had, and set off with his family to America. My father had a liking for
the youngest daughter, and well become him to have it, for a sweeter
creature never drew the breath of life; but while her father passed for
a _strong_[G] farmer, he was timorous-like about asking her to share his
little cabin; however, when he found how matters stood, he didn't lose
much time in finding out that she was willing to be his wife, and a
mother to his boy and girl. _That_ she was, a patient loving one. Oh! it
often sticks me like a knife, when I think how many times I fretted her
with my foolishness and my idle ways, and how 'twas a long time before
I'd call her "mother." Often, when my father would be going to chastise
Richard and myself for our provoking doings, especially the day that we
took half-a-dozen eggs from under the hatching hen, to play "Blind Tom"
with them, she'd interfere for us, and say, "Tim, _aleagh_, don't touch
them this time; sure 'tis only _arch_ they are: they'll get more sense
in time." And then, after he was gone out, she'd advise us for our good
so pleasantly, that a thundercloud itself couldn't look black at her.
She did wonders, too, about the house and garden. They were both dirty
and neglected enough when she first came over them; for I was too young
and foolish, and my father too busy with his out-door work, and the old
woman that lived with us in service too feeble and too blind to keep the
place either clean or decent; but my mother got the floor raised, and
the green pool in front drained, and a parcel of roses and honey-suckles
planted there instead. The neighbors' wives used to say, 'twas all pride
and upsetting folly, to keep the