When
my oldest brother, on whom my mother depended, was very weak
and almost at death’s door, my mother went to the Breens
and begged a little meat, just a few mouthfuls—I remember
well that little piece of meat! My mother gave half of it to
my dying brother, he ate it, fell asleep with a hollow death
gurgle. When it ceased I went to him—he was dead—starved
to us in our presence. Although starving herself, my mother
said that if she had known that Landrum was going to die she
would have given him the balance of the meat.
