<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
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  <node>
    <title>Hanna117</title>
    <Collections>Part Two</Collections>
    <Contributor>Linen Hall Library</Contributor>
    <Coverage>1951</Coverage>
    <Creator>Linen Hall Library</Creator>
    <Date>Thursday, April 7, 2016</Date>
    <Format>TIFF</Format>
    <Identifier>Hanna117</Identifier>
    <ItemDescription>Manuscript</ItemDescription>
    <Keywords>Townland, Minister</Keywords>
    <Language>English</Language>
    <Path>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna117</Path>
    <Publisher>Linen Hall Library</Publisher>
    <Relation>Linen Hall Library</Relation>
    <Rights>Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA</Rights>
    <Scannedimage>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna117_0.jpg</Scannedimage>
    <Source>LHL Archive</Source>
    <Transcript>﻿111

&quot;Can&#039;t you put the child somewhere, until we’ve finished talking?&quot;
he asked irritably,

’’No,&quot; she answered. &quot;It&#039;s past his feeding time anyway.&quot;

In his annoyance, Sorleyson said something that he had already
considered and rejected, as being contemptible and cruel.

&quot;Sarah, tell me, what do you think your mother would have felt
about this?&quot;

He saw her wince and immediately regretted his question. The young
mother looked at him calmly for a moment. &quot; Well, you said you came as a
friend, Mr Sorleyson. I hope you&#039;re satisfied now. What you&#039;ve said to
me is no different from what the people of the townland would say. You&#039;re
a man who&#039;s supposed to know better. Everything should be a kind of a
way for you, to be right. Nothing ever is. It was the same when - &quot;

&quot;When what?&quot; asked Sorleyson, leaning forward.

&quot;When Andrew died. I dont know how ye did it, but ye stole some-
thing away from that too!&quot;

&quot;Surely, surely I didn&#039;t!&quot; cried Sorleyson.

&quot;Yes, ye did!&quot; cried the woman springing up in passion. &quot;I told ye
he left go of the boat for us, and ye said something about a sacrifice
that should teach us something. It was like as if he had done nothing
more than threw a pound-note on the collection plate. He gave his life
for his sons and me, and all the time you were thinking how it could be
made to prove something else, &quot;My God, Mr Sorleyson, things happen to
people!&quot;

&quot;Yes, Sarah,&quot; answered the minister, &quot;but there is a guidance that
helps us to combat the temptations of life, and a Divine help which
supports us in those evil hours that none of us can avoid. Have you
</Transcript>
    <Type>Text</Type>
  </node>
</>
