a stream of oaths in a shrill
childish voice, pierced through the singing.

"Phat's that in all the worrld?" exclaimed Mrs. Carroll. "Hivin
preserve us, it's little Patsy. Tim, ye'll 'av to be spakin' to that
child for the swearin'. Listen to the oaths av 'im. The Lord forgive
'im!"

Tim strode to the door, followed by his wife.

"Phat the blank, blank is this yellin' about? Phat d'ye mane swearin'
loike that, Patsy? Oi'll knock yer blank little head aff if Oi catch ye
swearin' agin."

"I don't care," stormed little Patsy, quite unafraid of his father when
the other children fled. "It's that blank, blank Batcheese an' Tim
there. They keep teasin' me an' Mayan all the time."

"Let me catch yez, ye little divils!" shouted Carroll after the
children, who had got off to a safe distance. "Go on, Marion, an' sing
phat ye loike. It's loike a burrd ye are, an' Oi loikes t' hear ye. An'
Patsy, too, eh?"

He took the little cripple up in his arms very gently and held him for
some minutes.

"You're a big man, dad, aint ye?" said Patsy, putting his puny arm
round his father's hairy neck. "An' ye can lick the hull town, can't
ye?"

"Who wuz tellin' ye that, Patsy?" asked his father, with a smile.

"I heard ye meself last week when the big row was on."

"Ye did, be dad! Thin Oi'm thinkin' ye do be hearin' too much."

"But ye can, dad, can't ye?" persisted the boy.

"Well, Oi'll stick to phat Oi said, anyway, Patsy boy," replied his
father.

"An' I'll be a big man like you, dad, some day, an' lick the hull town,
won't I?" asked Patsy eagerly.

His father shuddered and held him close to his breast.

"I will, dad, won't I?" persisted the lad, the little face turned
anxiously toward his father.

"Whisht now, laddie. Sure an' ye'll be the clivir man some day," said
the big man huskily, while his wife turned her face toward the door.

"But they said I'd niver lick anybody," persisted Patsy. "An' that's a
blank lie, isn't it, dad?"

The man's face grew black with wrath. He poured out fierce oaths.

"Let me catch thim. Oi'll break their backs, the blank, blank little
cowards! Niver ye heed thim. Ye'll be a betther man thin any av thim,
Patsy avick, an' that ye will. An' they'll all be standin' bare-headed
afore ye some day. But Patsy, darlin', Oi want ye to give up the
swearin' and listen to Marion yonder, who'll be afther tellin' ye good
things an' cliver things."

"But, dad," persisted the little boy, "won't I b