She trembled with fear at the vacant silence in which he at first
gazed at her, but at length, after she had told him a great many times,
he said "Yes, mother," and went.
He reached the bottom safely, and presently spoke to her. There was
naked, dry earth under his feet; it was warm, and he wished her to come
down. She laid her baby beside some of the sleepers, and descended.
Immediately she determined upon taking them all down. How good, she
thought, as she descended the boughs, was the God whom she trusted. By
perseverance, by entreaty, by encouragement, and with her own aid, she
got them into this snug shelter.
Relief came not, and as starvation crept closer and closer to himself
and those about him, Patrick Breen determined that it was his duty to
employ the means of sustaining life which God seemed to have placed
before them. The lives of all might be saved by resorting to such food
as others, in like circumstances, had subsisted upon. Mrs. Breen,
however, declared that she would die, and see her children die, before
her life or theirs should be preserved by such means. If ever the father
gave to the dying children, it was without her consent or knowledge. She
never tasted, nor knew of her children partaking. Mrs. Farnham says that
when Patrick Breen ascended to obtain the dreadful repast, his wife,
frozen with horror, hid her face in her hands, and could not look up.
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