OUR SENTIMENTAL GARDEN 



Joseph, me brethren. Did he repoine, did he hesitate ? "< 

 the while the other ear was assailed by a rich brogue 

 announcing, " The sentence is already past. Thou must 

 doi. How many have gone to bed at noight in apparent 

 good health" 



It was some such threat as this, intermittently caught from 

 the side of the deepest brogue, which would terrify my 

 small mind. The whole churchyard, with its horror of 

 green graves, would seem to close about me. And how 

 much worse it was should there chance to be a new, raw 

 mound without ! 



One of the Mahon girls did indeed illustrate the gloomy 



treatise in a manner appalling to my secret state of 



apprehension. She died quite suddenly while dancing at 



some rural festivity. Rumour had it it was tight-lacing 



which had produced the tragedy. 



" Wasn't she black all down one side, the crathur ? " 



" Ah, maybe but she was always a yaller girl/ 7 opined a 



wise matron. 



Dimly I can recall that she had the pallor that goes with 



swarthy hair and eyes. A handsome creature, but not of 



the type admired by her class. The poor girl's sudden end 



formed a stirring illustration for the second curate's sermon 



the Sunday after the funeral. 



" What did I say, me brethren, last time I stood preaching 

 here at you ? Didn't I say who could tell who would be 

 missing before the year was out ? And look now at the 

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