ry lad ye are! Sure, you're across the floor
in one leap--like a stag just."

"Oh, sure; my legs are young. And one spoonful o' sugar is it, ma'am?"

"One--yes. And now sit down. And so it's a Republican ye are? And an
Irishman, too? Well, well--they do be queer happenin's in the world!"

"Queer enough. And from what part of Ireland are ye, ma'am?"

"Galway."

"A fine place, ma'am. I know it."

"Do ye now? But you're not Galway?"

"I wouldn't lie to ye, ma'am, though I'm tempted--I'm not; but I had an
uncle, as fine a man as ever lived, who died there. I went to see him
there once, and a grand time I had with salmon-fishin' in the loch and
fishin' with the Claddagh men in the bay--and on a Saturday night the
little boys singin' the old Irish songs in the streets and before Mrs.
Mack's hotel door. And was it in Galway the last of your people died?"

"It wasn't. And they didn't die--they were killed, God rest their
souls!"

"Amen!"

The sticks in the little stove crackled; the water in the little kettle
spluttered; a gaunt black cat crowded his way through the poorly
fastened door and rubbed himself against Tim's legs, whereat the widow
threw a stick of wood at him.

"Out o' that, you with your mud on you from the quarry pools sp'ilin'
the gentleman's fine clothes!"

"Small harm he'll do, ma'am."

"It's better manners he ought to be havin', though 'tis fine to see a
man like yourself hasn't too much conceit of his clothes. But now have
your tea, avic."

"I will. Ah-h! and the fine tea, it is, too. And isn't it a queer thing
now, Mrs. Nolan, that I can go to the finest hotels in the land and not
get the like o' this for tea? The finest of hotels--yes; and here in a
little cabin, with the wind blowing through the cracks, I'm havin' tea
that for its equal I'd have to go--well, to China itself, I'm thinking.
But tell me, Mrs. Nolan--it's as a friend I ask--what misfortune was it
brought you to be living in a little shebeen on this rocky hillside?"

The old woman made no response, except to add three or four little
sticks of wood from her pile to freshen the fire. It was still chilly
and outside it was windy, and Tim drew the man's worn coat about her
shoulders and made her sit closer to the fire. And by and by she told
him.

When she had done the twilight was on them and the fire long gone out.
Through the one little window of the cabin they could see the increasing
lights in the town below, and from the