“No, no, Annorah. You don’t think I would say such things, do you? But you need not tell me a word if you had rather not. I only thought it would make me forget my pain for a little time; and, besides, I love dearly to hear about Ireland, or any place where I have never been,” said Annie, with a tone of voice so calm and earnest that the girl could not doubt her sincerity.
“Do you, in truth? Why, thin, it’s me that’ll talk till I hoarse meself dumb for yer good. It was the famine, miss, that came first, and stole the bit o’ food that was saved. 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.”
“How many of you came, Annorah?”
“Nine, miss, if we consider our uncles and cousins. We did not come altogether; brother John, who is dead, and uncle Mike, came first. And a fine chance to work they got directly, miss; and then they sent money to pay the old folk’s passage. Our hearts gathered coorage and strength at once, miss, and we thought, shure, the great throubles were over. But the next vessel brought the bad news for us, and we forgot the glimmer of hope we had; for it was our own father dear who was dead o’ the cholera.”
“Poor Annorah!” exclaimed Annie pityingly.
“Poor indade! 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 quarrelled, and the young ones were aye cross or sick; and a bad time they made of it all.”