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"Yes, a Greffour," resumed "old Peggy," "we must forgive all the world; and myself would forgive any thing sooner than kidnappin' or stealing away the children of Catholics, which these Yankee parsons are so fond of doing." "O, so they are, the villains," said Norry. "Did they take away or steal any of this poor woman's children? 'Tis a wonder if they didn't."

But he took the cholera when within sight of land, and he only lived a few days. God rest his soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed. And God help those poor orphans," she said, piously, looking to where the little group, wearied from grief and crying, lay asleep on a straw bed. "I do really pity the poor creatures," said Norry. "I suppose they will have to go to the poorhouse."

Doherty hung up the crucifix, pinned to a white linen sheet at the head of where she lay, placed her "Ursuline Manual" on her breast, and her beads on her arms, crossed on the body. "She was a handsome, fine woman, in her day, God bless her," said Mrs. Doherty. "Yes, any body can tell that," answered Norry. "I wonder how they came here at all." "I know it well," answered old Peggy Doherty.

"It is not for them alone they are working, but for God, you know." "That's true," said Norry. "But still and all, when one hears how they are always ridiculing priests and nuns, and sees how they hate our religion, it is very hard, I think, to forgive them."

"Yes, agra," said Peggy, who was better informed than Norry; "so it is hard for flesh and blood to forgive the heretics; but, unless we forgive them, God won't forgive us. The priest knows this well; and so, if there were two sick calls to come at one time to him, as happened lately, one a Protestant and the other a Catholic, he would go to the Protestant first."

When the poor woman heard this, the heart broke entirely within her, especially as she could not be present at the child's death bed or at the funeral." "Why, that's rather strange," said Norry. "Did they send her word that she was sick?" "Not a word. It was only when I went up to Mrs.

"God help every poor Christian that is out to-night," said Mrs. Doherty. "I hope the Lord will save his reverence from all harm." "Amen!" answered Norry. "He will have a hard night of it. Had he far to go?" "He had, agra, forty miles out in Vermont; but sure he could not refuse going. The woman is just dying; and besides, she is a Protestant, who wants to die in the faith."

"I hope not; God forbid, asthore, the poorhouse is such a dangerous place for Catholics. I heard the priest say he would call to-morrow; and may be he will do for the little dears." "'Tis hard for him to provide for all that are in distress," said Norry.

He forgives all those whom God forgives; and so, if his enemy, the Protestant, falls sick, and wants his services, he goes to him first, in order that he may be brought into the church, where alone he can be saved." "Thanks be to God," said Norry.

"That beats all," said Norry, "and is more than I would do, if I were the priest; for I know well all that is said of him behind his back." "What harm will all that scandalous talk do the priest?" said Peggy. "It only does him good; and he has a blessing for being 'spoken evil of' like our Lord.