Both stood for a short time, and looked with amazement about them.

At length, the old man, taking the hand of his wife in his, said-- "Kathleen, what's this ?--what ails me?
I want something." "You do, Brian--you do.

There s Peggy there, and her child, poor thing; see how quiet they are! Oh, how she loved that child! an' see her darlin'-- see how she keeps her arm about it, for fear anything! might happen it, or that any one might take it away from her; but that's her, all over--she loved everything." "Ay," said the old man, "I know how she loved it; but, somehow, she was ever and always afeard, poor thing, of seemin' over fond of it before us or before strangers, bekaise you know the poor unhappy--bekaise you know--what was I goin' to say?
Oh, ay, an' I'll tell you, although I didn't let on to her, still I loved the poor little thing myself--ay, did I.But, ah! Kathleen, wasn't she the good an' the lovin' daughter ?" The old woman raised her head, and looked searchingly around the room.
She seemed uneasy, and gave a ghastly smile, which it was difficult to understand.

She then looked into her husband's face, after which she turned her eyes upon the countenances of the early dead who lay before her, and going over to them, stooped and looked closely into their still but composed faces, She then put her hand upon her daughter's forehead, touched her lips with her fingers, carried her hand down along her arm, and felt the pale features of the baby with a look of apparent wonder; and whilst she did this, the old man left the room and passed into the kitchen.
"For God's love, an' take her away," said a neighboring woman, with tears in her eyes; "no one can stand this." "No, no," exclaimed another, "it's best to let her have her own will; for until they both shed plenty of tears, they won't get the betther of the shock her unexpected death gave them." "Is it thrue that Tom Dalton's gone mad, too ?" asked another; "for it's reported he is." "No; but they say he's risin' the counthry to punish Dick o' the Grange and Darby Skinadre--the one, he says, for puttin' his father and themselves out o' their farm; and the other for bein' the death, he says, of poor Peggy there and the child; an' for tak in', or offerin' to take, the farm over their heads." The old woman then looked around, and, asked-- "Where is Brian?
Bring him to me--I want him here.

But wait," she added, "I will find him myself." She immediately followed him into the I kitchen, where the poor old man was found searching every part of the house for food.
"What are you looking for, Brian ?" asked another of his neighbors.
"Oh," he replied, "I am dyin' wid fair hunger--wid fair hunger, an' I want something to ait;" and as he spoke, a spasm of agony came over his face.