"Da," asked Brigit as their wagon passed a store sign, "What does it mean, 'No Irish need apply?'"
"Many people here think the Irish do nothing but drink and fight. I fear that a few have given the rest a bad name. I think many people are afraid, too," said Patrick Morran.
"Why would they be afraid of us, Da?" asked his daughter Brigit. "We're just looking for a place to live."
"That's true, Brigit, but many Irish are willing to work for lower wages, and they don't demand as much as those who were born here. Our land is near other Irish people, so we don't have to deal with English bigotry."
"Is that why we are going to live on the frontier?" asked Brigit.
Patrick nodded. He had purchased a wagon to bring the family to their new home in Pennsylvania. It wasn't Ireland, but it was a good land. Most of all, their farm was not part of an estate. No one could come and throw them off for non-payment of rents.
He looked back in the wagon at the children there. It was hardly a week ago that he had learned of the deaths of his wife and children on a coffin ship, all of his children except Brigit.
As he had searched for her in the city of Philadelphia, he became aware of the hundreds of other children who had also lost their families. He could not replace his family, but he could try to help others. He had a home waiting for five children. With Brigit to help, they could take that many to help. Besides, good farms needed many hands to help. They would be better with him than in the city.