THE INDIAN ADVOCATE
"They have not been so clever after all," he continued.
All this happened fifty years ago, and they have been look
in' for one who has lived under the British Hag ever since.
This finishes my story, my friends, the story ot Miles Darcy,
not of Owen O'Brien; but when I die it matters little; you may
call me by either name. As I hope to be forgiven, 1 forgive
all who have ever wronged me or mine. Reach me my prayer
book, Father dear," said the dying man, wearily.
The priest handed him the old, well-fingered relic.
"And I'll show you all of my own Eileen, when she was
just ten years old. Ah, darlin'l" he cried, as he kissed the
picture over and over again before showing it. "Now, friends,
do you wonder that I gave up my whole life's happiness for
her? Do you wonder why I shunned the world that the remem
brance of her might remain bright and vivid with me?"
He closed his hands again about the picture.
"Let us kneel down and say the rosary," murmured the
priest. Deeply impressed with this sad story of a life, they
all knelt down. At first, the dying man answered the prayers
bravely; but his voice grew weaker, and before they had cea
sed 'praying, Miles Darcy was sleeping his eternal sleep, while
the picture of his little child lay on his bosom.
Catherine A. Suluvan.
Alas! we love ourselves too much, and make human prudence too much
of a rule, fearful lest we should lose a single point of our own reasonings.
But who can tell the greatness of this evil, and how great a mistake it is?
It. was not thua that the saints acted. St. Theresa.
The devout father Martin del Rio, who had been a great
man in the world, and noted for his learning no lesc than his
rank, having become a religious and a priest, often accompa
nied the lay brother who was housekeeper of his convent with
a ragged habit on, carrying in the sight of all the people the.
various articles which the latter had bought for the use of the
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