Only an Irish Boy; Or, Andy Burke's FortunesAlger, Horatio, Jr.
General
Only an Irish Boy; Or, Andy Burke's Fortunes
Alger, Horatio, Jr.
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Juvenile fiction; Irish Americans -- Juvenile fiction
"Then I must go, too," said Miss Priscilla. "We have lived together
from girlhood, and we cannot be separated."
"I supposed you would be unwilling to leave her, so I am afraid we
must make up our minds to lose you both."
"Do you think, doctor, that Sophia will, by and by, be strong enough
to return here?"
"I am afraid not. The effects of lung fever are always felt for a long
time. She will improve, no doubt, but a return to this harsh air
would, I fear, bring back her old trouble."
"I asked because I wanted to know whether it would be best to keep
this place. After what you have told me, I shall try to sell it."
"I am truly sorry, Miss Priscilla."
"So am I, Dr. Townley. I don't expect any place will seem so much like
home as this."
"Have you any particular place that you think of going to?"
"Yes; I have a niece married in a small town near Syracuse, New York
State. They don't have east winds there. I'll get Priscilla (she's
named after me) to hunt up a cottage that we can live in, and move
right out there. I suppose we'd better go soon?"
"Better go at once. Weak lungs must be humored."
"Then I'll write to Priscilla to get me a boarding house, and we'll
start next week."
There was one person whom this removal was likely to affect seriously,
and this was our young hero.
"I hope Andy'll be able to get a place," said Priscilla, after she had
communicated the doctor's orders to her sister.
"Just so, Priscilla. He's a good boy."
"I will give him a good recommendation."
"Just so. Does he know it?"
"No. I will call him in and tell him, so that he can be looking out
for another position."
"Just so."
Andy answered the call of Miss Priscilla. He had been sawing wood, and
there was sawdust in his sleeves.
"How long have you been with us, Andy?" asked his mistress.
"Over a year, ma'am."
"I wish I could keep you for a year to come."
"Can't you?" asked Andy, startled.
"No, Andy."
"What's the matter, Miss Priscilla? Have I done anything wrong?"
"No, Andy. We are both of us quite satisfied with you."
"You haven't lost any money, ma'am, have you? I'll work for less, if
you can't afford to pay as much as you've been paying."
"Thank you, Andy, but it isn't that. My sister's lungs are weak, and
Dr. Townley has ordered her to move to a less exposed place. We are
going to move away from the town."
"I'm sorry," said Andy, and he was, for other reasons than because he
was about to lose a good place.
"We shall miss you, Andy."
"Just so," chimed in Miss Sophia, with a cough.
"You see how weak my sister's lungs are. It's on her account we are
going."
"Shan't you come back again, ma'am?"
"No, Andy. The doctor says it will never be safe for us to do so. I
hope you will get a good place."
"I hope so, ma'am; but you needn't think of that."
"We are prepared to give you a good recommendation. We feel perfectly
satisfied with you in every way."
"Just so," said Sophia.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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