e fields. Mike rented a farm of about
fifteen acres, at least ten of it was grass; he grew an acre of
potatoes and some corn, and some turnips for his sheep. He had a nice
bit of meadow, and he took down his scythe, and as he put the whetstone
in his belt Bryden noticed a second scythe, and he asked Mike if he
should go down with him and help him to finish the field.

"You haven't done any mowing this many a year; I don't think you'd be
of much help. You'd better go for a walk by the lake, but you may come
in the afternoon if you like and help to turn the grass over."

Bryden was afraid he would find the lake shore very lonely, but the
magic of returning health is the sufficient distraction for the
convalescent, and the morning passed agreeably. The weather was still
and sunny. He could hear the ducks in the reeds. The hours dreamed
themselves away, and it became his habit to go to the lake every
morning. One morning he met the landlord, and they walked together,
talking of the country, of what it had been, and the ruin it was
slipping into. James Bryden told him that ill health had brought him
back to Ireland; and the landlord lent him his boat, and Bryden rowed
about the islands, and resting upon his oars he looked at the old
castles, and remembered the pre-historic raiders that the landlord had
told him about. He came across the stones to which the lake dwellers
had tied their boats, and these signs of ancient Ireland were pleasing
to Bryden in his present mood.

As well as the great lake there was a smaller lake in the bog where the
villagers cut their turf. This lake was famous for its pike, and the
landlord allowed Bryden to fish there, and one evening when he was
looking for a frog with which to bait his line he met Margaret Dirken
driving home the cows for the milking. Margaret was the herdsman's
daughter, and she lived in a cottage near the Big House; but she came
up to the village whenever there was a dance, and Bryden had found
himself opposite to her in the reels. But until this evening he had had
little opportunity of speaking to her, and he was glad to speak to
someone, for the evening was lonely, and they stood talking together.

"You're getting your health again," she said. "You'll soon be leaving
us."

"I'm in no hurry."

"You're grand people over there; I hear a man is paid four dollars a
day for his work."

"And how much," said James, "has he to pay for his food and for his
clothes?"

Her c