It was evident, from her
appearance, that she was not an habitual beggar. As I approached her,
she seemed much embarrassed, as she said,--
"Sure an' its mesilf that never expected to come to this at all, at
all."
"My poor woman," said I, "you appear to have been unfortunate."
"An' its mesilf that has been misfortunate," she replied, as the tears
gathered in her fine, dark eyes. She continued,--
"There was never a happier couple than Dinnis O'Flaherty an' I the day
the praste made us one. But, after a while, the wages got low, and the
times were hard wid us. 'Polly,' says Dinnis to me one day, 'will you be
afther goin' to Ameriky wid me?' 'Dinnis,' says I, 'wherever it plases
you to go its I, Polly McBrine, that's ready and willin' to follow.' We
sailed in the _St. Pathrick_, and tin days afther I saw my darlin'
Dinnis buried in the salt say. He fell sick wid a faver, and all me
prayers for his life could not save him; an' here I am, a lone widdy, in
a shtrange land, without a penny in me pocket, nor a place to lay me
head."
Here the poor woman's grief choked her utterance, and, covering her
face with her hands, she wept aloud. I requested the domestic to bring
her some food, which she ate like one famishing.
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