CHAPTER II.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXII, Issue 45, 10 November 1904, Page 24

CHAPTER 11.

Al l.itt the weary sea journey came to an end, and into a great noisy city she went, where the people went aoout their business at a break-neck speed, where it was a race foi gold irom morning till night and again from dark till dawn, for no one seemed to rest at ail — everywheie it was bustle and roar and confusing, deafening clamor of many voices Then she t.bo-ight the hand that ha>d beckoned to her over land and sea, and the voice that had tempted her to rast away the simplicity of home and to seek for the pleasure of cities, weie still forever in death—sunstro 1 c or something they told her, those careless busy people who had Iniwn her friend, had earned away the one prospect which was hers in emigrating, and she she toi ni herself wandering from place to place in search of something to do — something to 1 cep away the wolf of hrn^ei, vho vas even now staring her in the face. Alas foi her dreams of lui^ury and happiness. Aga-n there was a change in the scene. She was toil ng in the factory with hundreds o l others, in a (lo'dy pas-lit loom where the roar of machmerv, the, ciash jf wheels revolving -and meeting and dashing around at lightning speed,' seemed to still the very beaming of her heart and beat upon her brain until the sight almost went from her eyes in the effort to keep control of her senses Bold eyes stared at her, she heard the insulting comments of brazen girls on the Irish .; grecnie,' and the harsh, leering laughter 4hat followed each vulgar lest, until her hands clenched in pain, and she prayed that (iod would send her relief in death. Now and then, in fancy, the sound of tthe Angrlus came to her ears borne on the winds of home, the birds s?ng out th^ir greetings to ncr from hedges, and the scent of the brown bog refreshed her like a draught of wine. Weakness, she imagined, at last overcame her ; she could work no more, and dismissal from her employment was the result. Out into the loveless, rushing city she went, weak and sick and hungry, without a friend — only God, and e\ en lie seemed to have forsaken her. On she wandered, fearing to stop or to return until the dark night came down, filling her with terror and despair ; out from the dark places hands were stretched to clutch her, mocking laughter rounded in her ears and tempting voices whispered to her to sell her purity, to barter her soul, for food ?nd shelter ; but a vision rose up before her eyes o f Ihe old chapel at home, and the beauty of her tirst Communion day came back to her. She saw the altar and the old while-haired parish priest, she knelt by the rails ?nd watched him coming down to her and place the Sacred Particle on hex tongue, and O ! the great unspeakable joy that swelled up in her heart and made

her strong enough to do anything for the sake of Him who had come to dwell within her soul. No, she would not go where the tempting voices called her, she would die sooner than stain her soul, and so, faint and weak and terrified, she stumbled onward, repeating the ' Memorare,' which her mother had taught her, in the far-off year, by the old hearth at home. But the darkness became more intense and terrible, the black figures came nearer and nearer, she felt their cold hngcrs gripping her arms, and in the louripst voice she could command, she screamed, her last thought centered on home, * Eamon, Eamon, come to me, save me, save me !' ' Norah, do not scream so, I am here. Good heavens ! you are shaking like a leaf, and you are whiter than the snow outside. What is the matter ? What has happened ?' Nora started and looked around, trembling nnd dazed. She had wakened with a s/cream, and for a moment could not believe that she was really at home and that she had been only dreaming. Eamon Fitzgerald was standing beside her, holding her hand in his own, speaking in rapid tones, and gazing at her anxiously, the fire was "blazing as cheerily as ever, and everything was unchanged. Norah breathed a long sigh of relief and shuddered slightly at, the thought of her recent terror. ' Oh, Eamon,' she said in a low tone, ' I have dreamt a terrible dream, and 1 can scarcely make myself believe that it was unreal. Listen for a moment and I will tell you all about it, and you will noti blamo me for my terror.' In hurried words she told him what had passed before- her mind's eye, not even the least portion was' left unrecounted, for it was all stamped clearly upon her mind. ' Thank God ' ' said Eamon, fervently. ' Would to heaven that a thousand girls all over Ireland to-night could listen to what you have told me, or have dreamt your dream. I think it is a picture, Norah, placed before you by an all-wise Providence as a tamely warning. And it is a true picture whether or no. Many a Poor Irish exile, boy and girl, has met with even a worse fate than that portrayed in your dream. And what of America now, Norah ? ' 1 Oh, Eamon, I would not go there now if all the wealth of the world were waiting for me beyond. I have been foolish and vain a nd headstrong, but God has (been merciful to me in sending me a warning this holy Christmas Eve. I will stay at home.' 4 You will never repent these words, Norah. If there is wealth beyond the seas, there is also misery, ihere is work to-day at home for the women of li eland. Our land has been in a dream as you were, and God has shown her a'picture of the black future before her if she continues walking in the paths of the stranger. She has heeded the warning, she has set her foot once more on the way that, is her own, and she needs all her daughters, even more than her sons, to help her along that way, until the goal of freedom comes in view, and the power of the stranger is broken forever.' Norah's story was a pleasant surprise to Mike Dillon and his wife when they returned home, and there was at least one pleasant fireside group in Ireland that Christmas Eve. The branch of the Gaelic League, wnose hard-work-ing secretary Eamon was, and is, for he would accept no higher post, has prospered and extended its labors since then. I see by a local paper received the otneday that a women's branch has recently been established in the same place, whose members are by no means few. The name of the president is Mrs. Norah Fitzgerald.— ' New Ireland.'