Willy Burke, or, The Irish orphan in America - Digital Repository ...

64 WILLY BURKE ; OR,
ear were the deep sobs of his brother, who had arrived a
little before, and was now kneeling in an agony of
sorrow and remorse, beside his mothers bed. The tears
were streaming from the poor lad's eyes, and the hot,
fevering hand of his mother was closely pressed to his
heart, while, ever and anon, he kissed it with passionate
fondness. There were none present but the two little
girls, who stood silently by, looking alternately at their
sick mother and their brother, whose grief they would
fain have lessened, but knew not how. It was cruel
anguish for poor Peter to listen to the tender yet reproachful
words which fell ever from the parched lips of
the sufferer, as she seemed to imagine herself talking to
him. At times she spoke of his father, and once or
twice of Willy ; but ever did the course of her incoherent
ramblings recur to himself. " Poor Pether ! " she
would murmur ; " poor child ! Och, then, Pether dear !
if you 'd only think of yourself ; think of your sowl, agra
gal ! Sure what about the poor body ? Pether
Pether ! didn't your father tell you to be thrue to your
religion ? Who 's that says he 's going to be a Protes-
tant ?" she cried with a wild stare, and half raising herself
in her bed. " No, Mrs. Watkins, you needn't think
didn't I bring him into the world,
or say any such thing ;
an' amn't I answerable to God for his sowl ? No, ma'am !
it wasn't for the likes o' that he came here ; an' I have
that much thrust in God, that I 'm sure he 'd never let a
child o' mine fall into your snares !" She fell back exhausted,
and lay with closed eyes motionless, while Peter
sobbed out anew, and spoke aloud in the fulness of his
heart.
" No, mother dear ! with God's help there 's no danger