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the family with red hair like her father. Her health failed in early years and she never regained it. She died when she was thirty-two, in 1915.

Angelina attended Notre Dame Convent from an early age, where she lamed to play the piano and developed an interest in painting. One of her paintings, which she liked particularly well, she decided to pass on to a family member. It was her wish that the painting would go to the first married family members to whom a girl was born. That first girl turned out to be Margaret Doyle (now Margaret Quinn) the daughter of Angelina's brotherWilliam (Bill). Margret still retains this treasured painting. Angelina died when she was thirtycfive.

Bill and Mary had one daughter, Margaret. Margaret married Jack Quinn and they live in New Waterford Nova Scotia.

I remember ‘Uncle Bill" Doyle as a very kind man with a twinkle in his eye. chhildrcnlikedtogotoVillageGreenwithourparentsitovisithimand Aunt Mary. On one occasion Uncle Bill took us fora ride in a fancy sleigh. On another he took out his World War I souvenir revolver and entertained us with a tale of his heroics during that conflict. Whether the story adhered exactly to battalion history I'll never know, but Bill told it with such cxcitementthat itkeptusspellbound and wondering foralong time tocome.

In later years I recall Bill in the Sacred Heart Home. When I went to visit, Bill would always welcome me with a hearty handshake and turn his good car towards me. Like my grandfather, (his bmtherJohn), Bill was hard of hearing in his old age. "Would you like to have a game of ards, Louis?’ he would loudly ask. In response to my affirmative reply, he would lock his room door. Taking a small key out of his watch pocket, he then unlocked a dresser drawer. The drawer contained a pint of his favorite brand. Bill would pour us each a good portion and we would then play a few hands

of cribbage.

Bill would test my knowledge of cribbage on the spur of the moment, when I was least expecting it. “What's four sixes with a three turned up on the deck?’ I answered, 'twenty-four'. ‘Good,' he replied as if to say that I was progressing at a satisfactory rate. At other times he would share general wisdom of the world that every young man should know. Once— out of the blue—he said 'You could never freeze a nun!” Dumfounded, I murmured something which provoked a reply. "Ihey war so many layers of clothes that they are always a little too warm."

One time someone organized a family reunion at which, among the various foot races, the organizer had seen fit to have a short grandfather’s race. Both Bill and his brothcrjohn participated and Bill won. That evening, my

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