y shillin' at a time--whenever he could, the poor boy, an' I was
able to work the sewin'-machine a little, an' so we made out between
us till I took this terrible bad turn. Well, of course troubles niver
comes single, an' the last letther I got from my poor little fella had
only fifteen shillin' in it, an' he towld me he had the bad luck
altogether, but, says he,'My dear mother, ye must on'y howld out the
best way ye can. There's no work to be got in this place at all' (New
York I think it was). 'But I am goin' out West,' says he, 'to a place
where I'm towld there's fortunes made in no time, so I'll be over wid
ye soon,' he says, 'wid a power o' money, an' I'm sure Mary Byrne'll
be a good friend to ye till then. The worst of it is,' he says, 'it's
a terrible wild outlandish place, and I can't be promisin' ye many
letthers, for God knows if there'll be a post-office in it at all,'
says he; 'but I'll be thinkin' of ye often, an' ye must keep up your
heart,' he says. Well," sucking up her breath again, "poor Mrs. Byrne
done all she could for me, but of course when it got to be weeks an'
months that I was on my back not able to do a hand's turn for meself,
an' no money comin' an' no sign o' Barney, what could she do, the
crature? One day Dr. Isaacs says to her, 'Mrs. Byrne,' says he, 'why
don't ye send poor Mrs. Brady to the Infirmary?' 'What Infirmary,
sir?' says she. 'The Union Infirmary,' says he; 'it's the on'y place
she's fit for except the Incurables in Dublin,' says he, 'an' I'm
afraid there's no chance for there.' 'Oh, docther, don't mention it!'
says poor Mrs. Byrne--she was telling me about it aftherwards. 'Is it
the Union? I wouldn't name it,' she says, 'to a decent respectable
woman like Mrs. Brady. She's a cousin by marriage o' me own,' she
says; 'I wouldn't _name_ it to her, I assure ye.' 'Just as you
please,' says Docther Isaacs. 'It 'ud be the truest kindness you could
do her all the same, for she'd get betther care and nourishment than
you could give her.' Well, poor Mrs. Byrne kep' turnin' it over in her
mind, but she raly couldn't bring herself to mention it, nor wouldn't,
on'y she was druv to it at the end, the crature, with me bein' ill so
long, an' the rent comin' so heavy on her an' all. So we settled it
between the two of us wan day, an' she passed me her word to bring me
Barney's letther--if e'er a wan comes--the very minute she gets it,
an' if he comes himself she says she won't let on where I am, al