THE EVICTION WE SAW.
In the village of Kenmare, there were thirteen families one cold wet morning, out on the roadside, men, women and children, some of the latter being only two months old, their only protection being blankets made of potato sacks stretched upon four sticks driven into the cold clay, and their only bed, leaves, which were wet with the rain. The mothers were boiling their potatoes, contributed by neighbors almost as poor as themselves, in pots suspended from extemporized tripods, the fuel being leaves and twigs.
WHAT HAPPENS.
EVICTED—SCENE IN GALWAY.
What became of them? I do not know. I presume some of the children died from exposure, but that was nothing to the landlord or his agent. They were too young to work, and really stood in the way of the mother and father paying their rent. Possibly the father working in the mines in Wales, got money enough before the children were all dead to enable them to get into some kind of a shelter.