, who attempted
to prejudice him against such a treasure, such a model of every virtue,
such an angel, as she "always appeared to him to be"! He would have
cheerfully "accepted the hand" of the poor "Irish" orphan when that hand
had some thousands of gold dollars in its beauteous grasp. The Yankee is
not remarkable for having an eye for the beautiful in nature or art; but
when _dimes_ and _dollars_ are in prospective, none is more penetrating
or sharpsighted than he. Beautiful paintings, cathedrals, the noblest
creations of the chisel, the most enchanting landscapes have just as
much attraction for his genius as they can be made available "for making
money," and no more. It was from the same principle that Calvin Prying's
love for Bridget O'Clery originated. Hence he was highly enraged at the
idea of her going into a convent, and had a strong notion in his head to
call a "public mass meeting," and pass resolutions against the
constitutionality of allowing young ladies of respectable fortunes to
enter convents. Indeed, he so far succeeded in creating an excitement in
his favor about deterring Bridget from entering the convent, as to get,
by the payment of a small sum, one of the daily papers of the city to
write an article in his favor, entitled "_Abduction_!" During a few
days, the editor of the same filthy sheet repeated his scurrilous
attacks on Catholicity, not forgetting to squirt a good deal of his dirt
on the Rev. Dr. Ugo, whom he blamed for encouraging the girl's
vocation, and thus depriving the _hungry_ Presbyterian Calvin of a fair
wife and a handsome fortune.

There was no great tumult created, however. Election was approaching,
and that absorbed all the excitable matter of the people, in spite of
the newspapers. The disputes and defences of the faith which Murty
O'Dwyer had to maintain since the departure of the young, "beautiful
Irish girl," as Bridget was called, were many and critical; but an event
now happened, that fanned the latent but active anti-Catholic fire into
a furious flame.

One evening, at supper, after the news arrived at R---- Valley that Paul
O'Clery was not only a priest, but stationed in the second city then in
the Union, Amanda, casting her malicious eye at her youngest sister
Mary, on whose calm cheek she saw, and seemed to envy, the innocent
blush that started there, on having heard the paragraph alluding to Paul
read and commented on, thus addressed her:--

"Ah, Mary, what do you s