This dreadful famine happened before Mrs. O'Neil was born, for Norah's grandmother was herself a child at the time.
The potato crop had been poor for several years, and many were the families who were obliged to beg from those who were a little better off than themselves. But at last there came a season when all the crops failed. It was the dreadful year of 1847, when the blight fell upon every part of Ireland.
Stop for a minute and think of the thousands of little children who lived almost entirely on potatoes up to this time. Some of them, it is true, had bread every day, and meat once or twice a week.
But there were many many homes where the only food of the family was potatoes. Then you can picture what happened when there were no more potatoes.
The smiles soon gave place to tears. The roses faded away from the cheeks. The bright eyes grew dull and heavy.
Poor little children of Ireland! Think what became of them when the last piece of furniture had been sold to buy bread!
Alas! many of them were soon without even shelter. For they were driven with their parents out of their small homes, because there was no possible way of paying the rent.
Then what? Fever and sickness travelled from place to place. Death followed in their pathway. There were many days of cruel suffering before the rest of the world waked up and sent help to the sick and the starving in Ireland.
NORAH'S HOME.