money from her sister who was doing well in New York to pay her passage
money out.

She told Miss Cobbe how she had been to an emigration office and booked
her passage.

'Direct to New York, of course.'

'Well no, Miss. But to some place close by, New something else.'

'New something else near New York?'

'Yes; I disremember what it was, but he said it was quite handy for New
York.'

'Not New Orleans, surely?'

'Yes, Miss, that was it, New Orleans, quite near New York,' he said.

The scoundrelly agent had taken her passage money and sent her off
absolutely friendless to New Orleans, where she died of a fever in less
than a year.

Many of the three million emigrants after the famine must have been as
easily duped.

A considerable time ago (but if I were in Kerry I could give the date
from my diary, because I met the man at a dinner given at the St.
James's Club by Lord Kenmare's son-in-law, Mr. Douglas) one of the big
New World railway companies sent over an emissary to the British