wonders of the land across the sea. There, a man that was
a man had no trouble in findin' work an' making a comfortable livin' for
himself an' family. He wanted to leave Mona with his sister in Dublin,
who offered to care for her an' the children until he'd made a home for
'em in the country he was goin' to. But no, Mona wouldn't hear to that.
She'd promised at God's altar to take him for better or worse an' to
cling to him till death. Because the worse had come, she wasn't goin' to
desert him an' let him go out alone to the cold land of the stranger to
fight his battle all by himself. She'd go with him an' stand by him and
help an' comfort him in his struggles. She knew she could help him.
She'd been taught by the nuns an' could do all sorts of fine sewin'. In
America, as in Dublin, there must be rich ladies who would pay well for
a bit of fine embroidery or hand-made lace. No, no, Mona wouldn't be
left behind; he must take her an' the little ones, no matter what was
before them. It was settled at last that we was all to go together, an'
so, one bright mornin' we stood on the deck of the ship that was
carryin' us far away from home an' all we loved, far away to the strange
land across the sea. With the tears runnin' down our faces, we waved
farewell to the shores of Ireland, an' Mona, though she didn't know it,
was wavin' farewell to happiness in this world. Poor girl, it's little
she knew from that day on but grief an' trouble an' sufferin'.

"Well, child, as I was sayin', it was the fine, bright mornin' that we
left Ireland, but the good weather held for only a few days after. Then,
there blew up such a storm as I never see before an' hope never to see
again. It was fearful, fearful. I couldn't describe it to you if I
tried. We just lay in our berths, every one of us, our backs agin the
wall, our knees braced agin the board in front, an' we holdin' on for
dear life expectin' every moment to be dashed out on to the floor an'
have all our bones broken. We was too frightened to say a word, but we
prayed, oh, my! how we did pray, every mother's son of us. For nigh onto
three days that poor boat struggled on bravely agin the ragin' storm,
but the ship wasn't built that could live in that sea, an' the end was
bound to come sooner or later. Come, it did, at last. An officer stood
on the stairs orderin' us all up onto the deck; the ship had sprung a
leak, the water was pourin' in faster than they could pump it out, an'
we mus