Anonymous

“ I am afraid that your family will join with the priest in opposing you.”
“Let them. I’ll fight them all with pleasure—more especially the praste.”
“But fighting is not the way to make them think well of the religion of Jesus. He was mild and gentle, patient under abuse and persecution; and he must be your pattern, if you desire to please God. You must pray to him, Annorah, for a new heart, so that none of these angry feelings will trouble you.” ”

“ Lee: ye’ll miss her dear ways an’ her heavenly smiles; she is yer own blood, were she not an angel intirely. But oh, ma’am, she’s been to me what no words can tell; and the short life o’ me will seem without end till I go to wait on her above. Oh, what’ll I do without her, when the whole world is dark as night?”
Mrs. Lee could not reply, for she, too, was weeping. There was something in Annorah’s desolate tone that went to her heart, and inspired a pitying affection for the plain-looking girl by her side, which she would once have thought impossible. ”

“ She knew that she was hastening to a better land, even a heavenly; and she strove to improve every moment of the time that remained, in efforts to give stability to Annorah’s religious feelings. Many were the conversations that they had together on the condition of the poor Irish people, and countless almost were the directions that Annorah received in regard to the best methods of winning [Pg 61] their love and confidence. Young as she was, Annie had learned that all efforts to benefit the unfortunate or ignorant are vain so long as the cold shoulder is turned towards them. ”

“ In the varied arts of housewifery, and in the more intricate use of the needle, she had also become quite expert, and, to use Mrs. Lee’s own words, “was quite a treasure in every part of the house.”
Little lame Phelim came for an hour each afternoon to Miss Annie’s room to be made a “schollard, shure;” and every Saturday evening found Annorah, with her Bible, seated by her mother’s fireside, reading, and in her own earnest but uncouth manner expounding the truths she read.
One Sabbath evening in March, Father M‘Clane set out for a walk to Mrs. Dillon’s cottage. ”

“ It’s him who spakes well o’ the poor ruined crathers, and praises us all for the natural generous-sowled people we are. He knows us intirely, Norah dear. Shure he’s a wonderful man and a bould, let alone the thrue son o’ ould Ireland, for doing the beautiful thing. Read us one more letther, mavourneen, before ye are off, and lave the book here. Mayhap Phelim will spell out a morsel or so when the Sabbath even is coom.”
“You will not go to confession to-morrow, dear mother?” said Annorah. ”

“ It’s only that all my relatives, and the praste, and the Catholic neighbours, are waiting for me to come home, to bring me back to the ould Church by force. An’ Phelim, poor boy, came to tell me to keep away. It’s worse he’ll be for the damp air; and it’s angry they’ll be for my staying away.”
“Ah! Annorah, my dear nurse, I was afraid that rougher times awaited you. I was afraid they would persecute you.”
[Pg 42] “But they haven’t yet, Miss Annie.”
“Perhaps it is not what you would call persecution, but it is sad to have those we love turn against us. You must trust in God, my poor girl. ”

“ Never at all, mother; so make yer heart aisy. She spakes to me o’ meself, and the wickedness in me heart; and when she leans so lovingly on me shoulder, and raises her clear eyes to the blue sky, or watches the bright sunset, and spakes so softly to me o’ the beauty o’ a holy life, I feel all the betther and patienter meself for hearing the good words. She says, mother dear, as how it is depravity that makes me so often angered and wrong; and how that Jesus Christ, the Son o’ God himself, died to save us and cure us o’ our sin. It would do yer own heart good, could ye hear her ”

“ You are always doing good, Annie. Do you suppose that your patience under suffering is not a lesson to us in our smaller trials? There are many ways in which you are a blessing to us all; so do not weary yourself with new schemes. ”

“ Where’s the use o’ telling all ye know to an ould creature like him? Doesn’t the blessed Book say that no man can come to the Father but only through Jesus Christ? An’ shure, the great Father in heaven is angered to see me kneel down before that biggest o’ scamps, when I should be praying to himself. I’ll do it no more.”
“I am glad to hear you say so, Annorah; I do so hope,” said Annie, as the affectionate tears stole down her thin cheek, “that you are beginning to learn in the school of Christ. But, my [Pg 27] poor girl, you will meet much opposition. ”

“ CHAPTER VIII. ANNIE’S DEATH—ANNORAH’S PROSPECTS.
On every pleasant evening Biddy Dillon’s cottage was thronged by those who came to listen to the Word of God. It was in vain that Father M‘Clane opposed these meetings. His threats and arguments, once so potent, seemed now but to lessen his power. He even secured the services of a neighbouring priest, and with him visited each Irish family in succession, coaxing and flattering where his authority was not acknowledged. [Pg 59] But, alas for him and his prospects! he could do nothing with the people. ”

“ It’s me that’s ould enough, and willing [Pg 33] too, to be to you in place o’ yer own father, Heaven rest his sowl; but he’s gone to a better counthree than this sinful world. An’ yer own good, child, is what I think on in spaking to you of Miss Annie and the heretics generally. It’s not for meself, shure, that me prayers go up at the could midnight hour whin ye’re all sleeping in quiet. It’s not me own throubles that make me dream o’ Heaven’s wrath, but it’s me care for yer sowl, Annorah, and for the sake o’ yer gettin’ saved at last. ”

“ It’s not that ye are ill in bed, or hindered by the rain, or the could; it’s [Pg 53] because ye are heretics all, that ye shun the confession and the holy mass. Do ye know what the Church has power to do wi’ the like o’ ye? Arrah! it was the heavenly and not the mortal wisdom that made the hot fires o’ purgatory for such. Small help will ye get from me when the flames are scorching ye. Never a mass shall be said for a sowl o’ ye, unless ye repent at once.”
“And what call have ye to spake the like o’ that,” said Biddy, “and me sitting peaceably by me own fire wi’ the neighbours?” ”

“ Small rest is there for me when the wolf is in the fold, and the flock is in danger.”
He took leave quite cordially, but when he was gone, Biddy turned, with a shadow on her round face, to speak to her daughter.
“An’ what’s this ye’ve been doing, child? Is it me own ears that have heard o’ yer Bible-reading and railing at the praste? What’s coom [Pg 34] to ye now? Didn’t I warn ye against their heretic ways? An’ ye’ve been and fallen into the dape pit as aisy as a blind sheep. Och! for shame, Annorah Dillon! Why do ye not spake? What can ye say for yourself?” ”

“ But, you see, if all our people knew that same, sorra a bit o’ money would go to the praste’s pocket in comparison to what he gets now. It’s that, mother dear, that makes him so afraid we shall learn. He can’t get the money from those who can read God’s Word for themselves. ”

“ But she had not yet acknowledged to herself the doubts that really existed in her mind in regard to the truth of the Romish faith; she still clung to the errors in which she had been brought up, and feared the effect on her eternal happiness of Father M‘Clane’s displeasure. ”

“ I thought the Irish people were too generous to act so low a part.”
“An’ so we are, shure. Sorra a bit will the praste get from me about you here.”
“If he were a good man, a noble, honourable man,” said Annie, “do you think he would ask you—”
“He’s the praste!” interrupted Annorah, her eyes flashing; “the praste, is Father M‘Clane. An’ ye mind to spake well o’ him, it’s nought I’ve to say; an’ the tongue is a heretic’s that would spake ill o’ him, and he laving the ould counthree to stay for our good in this haythen land. ”

“ What will become o’ us then?”
“What can a wicked ould praste do to help us? It’s God alone can strengthen us then. I wouldn’t give a penny for the oil. It’s a betther way, darlin’, that God has provided for us. It’s a brave story that Phelim is waiting to read to us. There’s thruth and sense in it, too, ye will find.—It’s a fine counthree is this, Masther [Pg 57] Barry, and a free,” added Biddy, turning to a stout man, who, with scarcely a whole article in his apparel, was lounging in the shade of a corner. ”

“ Then looking towards her mother, she said, “Mamma, you may be easy; Annorah and I shall get on famously together.”
Thus assured, Mrs. Lee left them, and went [Pg 15] down-stairs with a better opinion of the rough Irish girl than she had thought it possible to entertain an hour previous.
Left by themselves, the two girls began to form an acquaintance with each other. Two persons more unlike could not have been brought together. Annorah was evidently much interested in her young charge, and felt the most unbounded sympathy in her sufferings. Annie spoke first. ”

“ Biddy Dillon had just finished a large ironing for one of the families in the village, and having placed the clothes-frame where the dust from the open fire-place could not fall on the fine starched linens and muslins, she began to set her table for tea, at the same time counting over the gains of the week. Not a trifle in her calculations were the wages of Annorah, who came regularly every Saturday evening to add her contribution to the family fund.
“It’s a good child she is gettin’ to be, and a pleasant-tempered one, too,” said Mrs. Dillon to herself ”

“ Sorra a hap’orth to spare will I find; it’s no me two hands alone can find bread for the mouths o’ all, and—”
“Stuff and nonsense!” interrupted the priest; “there’s many another place can be had for a sthrong, likely lass like her. Good servants are not over plenty, and she can be better placed.”
“But where, I would like ye to tell? It’s in a Protestant family she must be, an’ she goes out to service at all.”
“Yes; but they’ll let her alone in some houses. Sorra a bit do the most o’ them care what becomes o’ the sowl, an’ the work be done to their liking. ”

“ Arrah, now, Dennis darlin’, a sup o’ the whisky for me, a thrifle sthrong, an’ ye plaze. It’s a could night to be out wi’ an empty stoomach.”
“Stay till the morning, father,” said Biddy, coming up to him with an anxious face; “we cannot kape peace an’ ye do not bide wi’ us; the frolic will be all the better an’ ye stay to the orderin’ o’ it,—and the best bed is waitin’ yer riverence’s convanience. There’s Sandy and Mike will fight an’ ye lave, and Katy there is ready to tear out the eyes o’ big Nelly Murphy. It’s quarrelling they’ve been the whole blessed day. ”

“ They go to the Word itself, an’ we take on hearsay whatever the praste tells us. An’ there is no word in all the Book, mother, about praying to Mary the mother of Jesus, or to any [Pg 36] of the saints. Everybody is invited to pray straight up to God himself.”
The girl’s downright heresy, and her contempt for the mummeries of the Romish communion, troubled her mother. But what could she do? The change for the better in the child’s temper had prepared her to look favourably upon the change in her religion. ”

“ The praties were rotten in the field; and the poor pigs starved that should have helped us out wi’ the rint. Och, but it was a sore time o’ grief whin sorra a mouthful were left for the bit childer and the ould people who were weak before wi’ ould age! In the worst time o’ all, whin the need was the sorest, our Bessie got into disgrace, and came home from service wi’ niver a penny to help herself or us. There was nought to do and nought to eat at all. The neighbours were faint wi’ the hoonger; and so, before the worst came, we left all that was dear and came here. ”

“ She has taken a fancy to try your girl. When can she come?”
“Coom! Why, this very hour, an’ ye like. A blessin’ on yer swate, pale face!” said Biddy, looking pityingly towards Annie.
“She must be gentler here,” said Mrs. Lee; “she must govern her temper. Miss Annie must not be excited and made worse by your girl’s fits of ill-humour.”
“Leave her to me, mamma,” said Annie. “I think, Mrs. Dillon, that there will be no trouble. What did you say is her name?”
“Annorah, an’ ye plaze, miss.”
[Pg 13] “Annorah? Very well. When shall she come, mamma?” ”

“ Lee to Annorah, when, after an unusually restless and painful day, Annie had fallen asleep at last, and both left the room to breathe the fresh evening air. “When the weather gets settled so that she can let you draw her little carriage down by the mill-stream again, she will brighten up and get stronger. It is enough to make a well person ill, to be shut up so long.”
“Ye know best, shure,” said Annorah, in her [Pg 62] grief resuming her national accent and brogue—“Ye know best, but it’s thinner and weaker she’s getting, and is a baby for weight in me arms. Och! ”

“ But soon came the money for the rest; and much as we feared the deep wathers, the hoonger still pressed on us, and the sickness was every day striking down the stoutest, and so we all left Ireland but Bessie.”
“Did you like the passage across from Ireland?”
“No, indade.”
“Were you sea-sick?”
“No, miss. But we came in the steerage; and a crowded, dirthy place it was. The dirt was not so bad, for in the ould counthree it ofttimes gets the betther o’ us; but the men were either drunk or ill-nathured, and the women [Pg 18] quarrelled, and the young ones were aye cross or sick ”