The Poor Scholar Part 19

"Jemmy!--Jemmy!" shouted the lather, with a cry of joy which might be heard far beyond the house.

"Jemmy!--our poor Jemmy!--Jemmy!!" exclaimed his brothers and sisters.

"Asy, childhre," said the father--"asy; let the mother to him--let her to him. Who has the right that she has? Vara, asth.o.r.e--Vara, think of yourself. G.o.d of heaven! what is comin' over her?--Her brain's turned!"

"Father, don't remove her," said the son. "Leave her arms where they are: it's long since they encircled my neck before. Often--often would I have given the wealth of the universe to be encircled in my blessed and beloved mother's arms! Yes, yes!--Weep, my father--weep, each of you. You see those tears:--consider them as a proof that I have never forgotten you! Beloved mother! recollect yourself: she knows me not--her eyes wander!--I fear the shock has been too much for her. Place a chair at the door, and I will bring her to the air."

After considerable effort, the mother's faculties were restored so far as to be merely conscious that our hero was her son. She had not yet shed a tear, but now she surveyed his countenance, smiled and named him, placed her hands upon him, and examined his dress with a singular blending of conflicting emotions, but still without being thoroughly collected.

"I will speak to her," said Jemmy, "in Irish, it will go directly to her heart:--_Mhair, avourneen, tha ma, laht, anis.h.!.+_--Mother, my darling, I am with you at last."

"_Shamus, aroon, vick machree, wuil thu Ihum? wuil thu--wuil thu Ihum?_--Jemmy, my beloved, son of my heart, are you with me?--are you--are you with me?"

"_Ish maheen a tha in, a vair dheelish machree_--It is I who am with you, beloved mother of my heart!"

She smiled again--but only for a moment. She looked at him, laid his head upon her bosom, bedewed his face with her tears, and muttered out, in a kind of sweet, musical cadence, the Irish cry of joy.

We are incapable of describing the scene further. Our readers must be contented to know, that the delight and happiness of our hero's whole family were complete. Their son, after many years of toil and struggle, had at length succeeded, by a virtuous course of action, in raising them from poverty to comfort, and in effecting his own object, which was, to become a member of the Catholic priesthood. During all his trials he never failed to rely on G.o.d; and it is seldom that those who rely upon Him, when striving to attain a laudable purpose, are ever ultimately disappointed.

We regret to inform our readers, that the poor scholar is dead! He did not, in fact, long survive the accomplishment of his wishes. But as we had the particulars of his story from his nearest friends, we thought his virtues of too exalted a nature to pa.s.s into oblivion without some record, however humble. He died as he had lived--the friend of G.o.d and of man.