WITH A WINE-GLASS. 19

tearing in me down; you know, Mary, he
murdered her, all the same as if he took
a knife and cut her throat. And the oaths
that man took, and the promises he made
against the drink, would choke the Pope!
God forgive me! And yet, would you be-
lieve it, the day of her funeral he could.
hardly stand upright. Think of that! Mary
Machree; think of that! I’m sure it was
nothing but the knowledge I had, that she
depended on me to be as a tmother-to her child,
that kept the life in me ; but for that I should
have been thankful to have my grave made
at her feet, for the world was still a long
way before me, and I knew pretty well, what
sort of a world it was; and immediately
after the funeral, he gave up entirely, and
the creditors fell upon the place; and when
it was all up, those who might have looked
_ after him, wouldn’t walk the same side of.

the road with him; and he’d come and. look