ELLEN DUNCAN

and

THE PROCTOR'S DAUGHTER


By William Carleton




ELLEN DUNCAN


There are some griefs so deep and overwhelming, that even the best
exertions of friendship and sympathy are unequal to the task of soothing
or dispelling them. Such was the grief of Ellen Duncan, who was silently
weeping in her lone cottage on the borders of Clare--a county at that
time in a frightful state of anarchy and confusion. Owen Duncan, her
husband, at the period about which our tale commences, resided in the
cabin where he was born and reared, and to which, as well as a few acres
of land adjoining, he had succeeded on the death of his father. They had
not been long married, and never were husband and wife more attached.
About this time outrages began to be perpetrated; and soon increased
fearfully in number. Still Owen and Ellen lived happily, and without
fear, as they were too poor for the marauders to dream of getting
much booty by robbing; and their religion being known to be "the ould
religion ov all ov all," in a warfare that was exclusively one of party,
they were more protected than otherwise. Owen never was particularly