And when the days came again
that the crops would grow, many and many of the people were so weak
with the hunger and the sickness that they could not work in the
fields. Ah! and you call these hard times!
"Those were the bad days for Ireland, those days of '47. Not even the
luck of O'Donoghue could make us prosper or give us comforts then. But
we lived through the time, as many others did. The poor helped those
who were poorer than themselves; the sick tended those who were
sicker; the cold gave clothes and fire to those who were colder. The
little money that we had saved helped us and some of our neighbors.
And we lived through it all.
"Better times came, though never again so good as the old. We worked
again and we saved a trifle. Then you were born to us, John. We had a
worse landlord now. He was of the kind that cared nothing for his
tenants and nothing for his land, but to get the last penny off it.
The rent was raised, and we never could have paid it but for the care
and the skill and the hard work of your father.
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