what it may cost our hearts
to suffer by doin' so, than to stay here until the few hundre' that
I've got together is melted away out of my pocket into the picket of a
landlord that never wanst throubles himself to know how we're gettin'
on, or whether we're doin' well or ill. Then think of his conduct to
Bryan, there; how he neglected him, and would let him go to ruin widout
ever movin' a finger to save him from it. No, childre', undher sich a
man I won't stay. Prepare yourselves, then, to lave this. In biddin' you
to do so, I'm actin' for the best towards you all. I'm doin' my duty by
you, and I expect for that raison, an' as obedient childre'--which I've
ever found you--that you'll do your duty by me, an' give no further
opposition to what I'm proposin' for your sakes. I know you're all
loath--an' you will be loath--to lave this place; but do you think?--do
you?--'that I--I--oh, my God!--do you think, I say, that I'll feel
nothing when we go? Oh! little you know of me if you think so! but, as
I said, we must do our duty. We see our neighbors fallin' away into
poverty, and distress, and destitution day by day, and if we remain in
this unfortunate country, we must only folly in their tracks, an' before
long be as miserable and helpless as they are."

His family were forced to admit the melancholy truth and strong sense
of all he had uttered, and, although the resolution to which he had come
was one of bitterness and sorrow to them all, yet from a principle of
affection and duty towards him, they felt that any opposition on their
part would have been unjustifiable and wrong.

"But, sure," the old man proceeded, "there's more than I've mentioned
yet, to send us away. Look at poor Bryan, there, how he was nearly
ruined by the villany of some cowardly scoundrel, or scoundrels, who set
up a still upon his farm; that's a black business, like many other black
business that's a disgrace to the country--an inoffensive young man,
that never made or did anything to make an enemy for himself, durin' his
whole life! An' another thing, bekaise he voted for the man that saved
him from destruction, as he ought to do, an' as I'm proud he did do,
listen now to the blackguard outcry that's against him; ay, and by a
crew of vagabonds that 'ud sell Christ himself, let alone their country,
or their religion, if they were bribed by Protestant goold for it!
Throth I'm sick of the counthry and the people; for instead of gettin'
betther, it's