And a voice cried out with a hasty breath, When he went to water his milk next day, For a stone was driven in the old pump's spout. Old farmer B., when he drives to town, HUMBLE AND UNNOTICED VIRTUE. HANNAH MORE. O my son! The ostentations virtues which still press THE WELCOME.-THOMAS DAVIS. Come in the evening or come in the morning, So come in the evening or come in the morning, And the oftener you come here the more I'll adore you! REPLY TO "THE WELCOME."-W. F. Fox. I'll come in the evening, I'll come in the morning; Oh! warm is the heart that is waiting to fold thee, Though the storm-clouds of life may gather and blacken, There is nothing this world can offer of pleasance The moments of time-oh, how tedious their fleeting Now the voice of thy greeting in fancy I hear- Then hasten the hour when again I shall meet thee! Nor ever grow weary of telling our story. I'll come with sweet flowers from the vale and the mountain: Thou'lt sing me the songs thou hast sung me so often, FATHER PHIL'S COLLECTION. SAMUEL LOVER. Father Blake was more familiarly known by the name of Father Phil. By either title, or in whatever capacity, the worthy Father had great influence over his parish, and there was a free-and-easy way with him, even in doing the most solemn duties, which agreed wonderfully with the devil-maycare spirit of Paddy. Stiff and starched formality in any way is repugnant to the very nature of Irishmen. There are forms, it is true, and many in the Romish church, but they are not cold forms, but attractive rather, to a sensitive people; besides, I believe those very forms, when observed the least formally, are the most influential on the Irish. With all his intrinsic worth, Father Phil was, at the same time, a strange man in exterior manners; for with an abundance of real piety, he had an abruptness of delivery, and a strange way of mixing up an occasional remark to his congregation in the midst of the celebration of the mass, which might well startle a stranger: but this very want of formality made him beloved by the people, and they would do ten times as much for Father Phil as for the severe Father Dominick. On the Sunday in question Father Phil intended delivering an address to his flock from the altar, urging them to the necessity of bestirring themselves in the repairs of the chapel, which was in a very dilapidated condition, and at one end let in the rain through its worn-out thatch. A subscription was necessary; and to raise this among a very impoverished people was no easy matter. The weather happened to be unfavorable, which was most favorable to Father Phil's purpose, for the rain dropped its arguments through the roof upon the kneeling people below, in the most convincing manner; and as they endeavored to get out of the wet, they pressed round the altar as much as they could, for which they were reproved very smartly by his Reverence in the very midst of the mass. These interruptions occurred sometimes in the most serious places, producing a ludicrous effect, of which the worthy Father was quite unconscious, in his great anxiety to make the people repair the chapel. A big woman was elbowing her way towards the rails of the altar and Father Phil, casting a sidelong glance at her, sent her to the right-about, while he interrupted his appeal to Heaven to address her thus: 66 Agnus Dei You'd betther jump over the rails of the althar, I think. Go along out o' that, there's plenty o' room the chapel below there-" Then he would turn to the altar, and proceed with the serce, till, turning again to the congregation, he perceived some fresh offender. "Orate, fratres!- Will you mind what I say to you, and go along out o' that, there's room below there. Thrue for you, Mrs. Finn,-it's a shame for him to be thramplin' on you. Go along, Darby Casy, down there and kneel in the rain, it's a pity you haven't a decent woman's cloak under you, indeed!-Orate, fratres!" Then would the service proceed again, till the shuffling of feet edging out of the rain would disturb him, and casting a backward glance, he would say, "I hear you there,--can't you be quiet, and not be disturbin' my mass, you haythens?" Again he proceeded, till the crying of a child interrupted him. He looked around quickly "You'd betther kill the child, I think, thramplin' on him, Lavery. Go out o' that,-your conduct is scandalous-Dominus vobiscum!” Again he turned to pray, and after some time he made an interval in the service to address his congregation on the subject of the repairs, and produced a paper containing the names of subscribers to that pious work who had already contributed, by way of example to those who had not. "Here it is," said Father Phil,-here it is, and no denying it,-down in black and white; but if they who give are down in black, how much blacker are those who have not given at all! But I hope they will be ashamed of themselves when I howld up those to honor who have contributed to the uphowlding of the house of God. And isn't it ashamed o' yourselves you ought to be, to lave His house in such a condition? and doesn't it rain a'most every Sunday, as if He wished to remind you of your duty ?-aren't you wet to the skin a'most every Sunday! Oh, God is good to you! to put you in mind of your duty, giving you such bitther cowlds that you are coughing and sneezin' every Sunday to that degree that you can't hear the blessed mass for a comfort and a benefit to you; and so you'll go on sneezin' until you put a good thatch on the place, and prevent the appearance of the evidence from Heaven against you every Sunday, which is condemning you before your faces, and behind your backs too, for don't I see this minute a strame o' wather that might turn a mill running down Micky Mackavoy's back, between the collar of his coat and his shirt?" Here a laugh ensued at the expense of Micky Mackavoy, who certainly was under a very heavy drip from the imper fect roof. “And is it laughin' you are, you haythens?" said Father Phil, reproving the merriment which he himself had purposely created, that he might reprove it. “Laughin' is it you are, at your backslidings and insensibility to the honor of God, laughin' because when you come here to be saved, you |