a man out of the
corners of her eyes. Moriarty was agreeably thrilled by her glance.

"Is it the pig you're going to feed?" he asked.

"It is," said Mary Ellen.

A very chivalrous man, or one trained in the conventions of what is
called polite society, might have left his seat on the wall and helped
the girl to carry the bucket across the yard. Moriarty did neither the
one nor the other. Mary Ellen did not expect that he would. It was her
business and not his to feed the pigs. Besides, the bucket was very
full. That its contents should stain her dress did not matter. It
would have been a much more serious thing if any of the yellow slop had
trickled down Constable Moriarty's beautiful trousers.

She reached the pig-stye, lifted the bucket, and tipped the contents
into a wooden trough. Constable Moriarty, still seated on the wall,
watched her admiringly. Her sleeves were rolled up above the elbows. She
had very well-shaped, plump, brown arms.

"There's many a man," he said, "might be glad enough to be that pig."

Mary Ellen looked up at him with an air of innocent astonishment.

"Why would he then?" she said.

"The way he'd have you bringing his dinner to him," said Moriarty.

This compliment must have been very gratifying to Mary Ellen, but she
made no reply to it. She set down the empty bucket on the ground and
rubbed her hands slowly on the sides of her skirt Moriarty probably
felt that he had done as much as could be expected of him in the way of
pretty speeches. He whistled "Kathleen Mavourneen" through once while
Mary Ellen wiped her hands dry. She picked up her bucket again and
turned to go away.

"Tell me this now," said Moriarty. "Did ever you have your fortune
told?"

"I did not," she said.

"It's what I'm good at," said Moriarty, "is telling fortunes. There was
an aunt of mine one time that was terrible skilful at it. It was her
taught me."

"It's a pity she had no more sense."

"If you was to sit up on the wall beside me," said Moriarty, "and if you
was to lend me the loan of your hand for one minute----"

"Get out," said Mary Ellen.

"You'd be surprised, so you would," said Moriarty, "at the things I'd
tell you."

"I might."

"You would."

"But I won't be," said Mary Ellen, "for I've more to do than to be
listening to you."

"Where's the hurry?" said Moriarty. "Sure the day's long."

The affair might have ended in a manner pleasant to Moriarty and
interesting to the pig. The attr