"Last Winter
Was A Hard Winter; The Work Was Scarce, And The Poor People Would Have
Starved For Want Of
Fire but for Mr. Wynne of Hazelwood." "He let you
gather sticks in his woods, then?" "He did more than
That; he cut down
trees on purpose for the people, and we drew them over the ice, for the
lough was frozen over. We had no fire in our house all last winter, and
it was a cold one, but what we got that way from Mr. Wynne." Mr. Wynne's
eloquent advocate rowed along the lake close in shore, for fear of any
doubt resting on my mind, and showed the stumps of the trees, cut very
close to the ground, a great many of them indeed, as a proof of Mr.
Wynne's thoughtful generosity.
We rowed along over the laughing waters among the pretty islands, and
finally pulled ashore on the Hazelwood demesne and landed. We walked
round a little bit, filling our eyes with beauty; feloniously abstracted
a few wild flowers and a fir cone or two, and reluctantly left
Hazelwood. Now this gentleman was not a perceptible whit the poorer for
all the cottage homes that were warmed by his bounty - yes, and hearts
were warmed, too, through the dreary winter. "Blessed is he that
considereth the poor." There is riches for you - oh master of Hazelwood!
The emigration from Sligo amounts to a stampede now. How many more would
leave the island that has no place for them, if they only had the means?
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