"They came over on the vessel with us, and were from the next county at home; and this was the way of it:
"The two brothers, Pat and Mike Hennessy, married two sisters, Mary and Bridget Denver. They were decent tradesmen as any in the two counties, and were well enough to do until the hard times came, when old Ireland saw her poor children starving on every side so that it would melt the heart of a stone, or any thing softer than an English landlord's, to hear tell of it. Well, in the midst of the famine, Mike agreed that he'd come to America, and prepare a place against Patrick should come with Mary and Bridget. So when he left them, Pat set to get all he could together by selling his bits of furniture and things, and when times grew worse and worse, he would not delay, but took Mary with her baby of a week old, and Bridget, and came, as I said, on the vessel with us; and, by the same token, the ship's name was the Hibernia. A good name with a rough fortune, like the dear old land; for the weather was boisterous from first to last, and when we had been out four days, the most awful storm arose, that you'd think heaven and earth was comin' together. And in the midst of it what does poor Bridget do but sicken and die with the fright, leaving her little baby; but it followed its mother that same night which was God's blessing on it, poor motherless thing, seein' it was baptized by a priest we had on board, and who attended Bridget at the last.
"When we reached Boston, no tidings was to be heard of Mike; so Pat staid there hopin' to get news of him, and we came on to Vermont, where Sullivan's sister's husband came the year before.
"After a while Pat heard that the vessel Mike sailed on was struck by an iceberg, and went down with all on board; and it was called the Polar Queen, a name no knowledgeable man would have put on a vessel, in respect of them same icebergs, that would naturally enough claim their own.
"So when Pat heard these news, and he not finding such work as he wanted, seein' it was very costly living in the city, they started for the West; but hearing at Albany that the cholera was ragin' there, they turns and they follows us to Vermont, thinking, poor creatures! that it would be some comfort to be near those who knew of all their troubles. The church was then a building, and Mr. Wingate gave him work on it, and has been the best of friends to him ever since, and he has never wanted for employment; but lately his health is poor, and I'm afeered this grief will kill him entirely, and indeed my heart is scalded for them, bein' that we're all as one family, and their sorrow is our sorrow."
CHAPTER IX.
AFFLICTED AND CONSOLED.
When the morning appointed for the departure of Michael arrived, the whole school assembled to accompany him to the depot, and take leave of him. The teacher gave him much good advice, and exhorted him to conform closely to all the rules of the institution, adding, "And I have no doubt you will, Michael; for you have always been a good, attentive, and obedient scholar."
The parting with his parents and the children was inexpressibly painful; but for their sakes he bore up manfully under it, cheering them with brave words, and suppressing his grief until the dear home with all its cherished associations was no longer in sight. Oh! how bitterly and dismally did the heavy grief he had so struggled with, and tried so heroically to smother, then press upon him; he still choked it down until he was ready to suffocate, and then the weary sense of desolation, of cruel injustice, and of a homesickness which made the sight of a year's separation from all he loved, that was now staring him in the face, seem an age of insupportable sorrow, rushed upon him with overwhelming power, and found relief in floods of tears.
The officer who had him in charge tried to soothe and cheer him; assuring him that it was a very pleasant place to which he was going, and that he would be treated with the utmost kindness if he behaved well. But what was the kindness of strangers to the tenderness of dear parents from whom he had never before been separated? What could the place be to him, though ever so comfortable, to which he was consigned, in his innocence, as a disgraced felon?
No! there was no comfort for him! and again the convulsive sobs shook his whole frame, and the pride of his honest Irish heart rebelled against the injustice of his cruel fate; when suddenly he remembered the words his dear mother whispered softly, amidst sighs and tears, at parting, "Remember, darling! remember the loving Jesus! and how he suffered, being innocent, for our sins. When you are tempted to despair, fly to the wound in his sacred heart, ever open to receive and comfort the broken-hearted, and you will surely find comfort and peace." From that moment he became calm. He sought that dear refuge, and hid himself there from the storm that was raging within and without.