'm sayin; it'll nourish an put strinth in you."

"Ah, Misther Burke," replied Peety, in a tone of gratitude peculiar to
his class, "you're the ould* man still--ever an' always the large heart
an' lavish hand--an' so sign's on it--full an' plinty upon an' about
you--an' may it ever be so wid you an' yours, a chierna, I pray. An how
is the misthress, sir?"

* That is to say, the same man still.

"Throth, she's very well, Peety--has no raison to complain, thank God!"

"Thank God, indeed! and betther may she be, is my worst wish to her--an'
Masther Hycy, sir?--but I needn't ax how he is. Isn't the whole country
ringin' wid his praises;--the blessin' o' God an you, acushla"--this
was to Nancy Devlin, on handing them the new milk--"draw over, darlin',
nearer to the table--there now"--this to his daughter, whom he settled
affectionately to her food. "Ay, indeed," he proceeded, "sure there's
only the one word of it over the whole Barony we're sittin' in--that
there's neither fetch nor fellow for him through the whole parish. Some
people, indeed, say that Bryan M'Mahon comes near him; but only some,
for it's given up to Masther Hycy all to pieces."

"Faix, an' I for one, although I'm his father--amn't I, Rosha?" he
added, good-humoredly addressing his wife, who had just come into the
kitchen from above stairs.

"Throth," said the wife, who never replied with good humor unless when
addressed as Mrs. Burke, "you're ill off for something to speak about.
How are you, Peety? an' how is your little girl?"

"In good health, ma'am, thank God an' you; an' very well employed at the
present time, thanks to you still!"

To this Mrs. Burke made no reply; for it may be necessary to state
here, that although she was not actually penurious or altogether without
hospitality, and something that might occasionally be termed charity,
still it is due to honest Jemmy to inform the reader in the outset,
that, as Peety Dhu said, "the large heart and the lavish hand"
were especially his own. Mrs. Burke was considered to have been
handsome--indeed, a kind of rustic beauty in her day--and, like many of
that class, she had not been without a due share of vanity, or perhaps
we might say coquetry, if we were to speak the truth. Her teeth were
good, and she had a very pretty dimple in one of her cheeks when she
smiled, two circumstances which contributed strongly to sustain her good
humor, and an unaccountable tendency to laughter, when the pover