o-morrow to find any of the
flock amissing. So, though mother lay sick in the cottage, with none to
tend her, Tim and I, because of the dread we had of our father's
displeasure, left her and went out to seek the sheep before the storm
broke.

It was no light task, for the dog was lame, and the wind carried back
our shouts into our very teeth. The flock had straggled far and wide in
search of the scanty grass, and neither Tim nor I had our hearts in the
work.

Presently Tim took a stone to dislodge one stubborn ewe, where it hid
beside a rock, and, as luck would have it, struck not her but my cheek,
which received a sharp cut.

"Faith, and you'll make a fine soldier when you're grown," said I, in a
temper, "if that's the best you can shoot."

Tim often said he would be a soldier when he came to be a man, and was
touchy on the point.

"Shoot, is it?" said he, picking up another stone; "you blackguard,
stand where ye are and I'll show yez."

And he let fly and struck me again on the self-same place; and I confess
I admired his skill more than his brotherly love.

I picked up the stone and flung it back. But the wind took it so that
it struck not Tim but the ewe. Whereat Tim laughed loudly and called me
a French spalpeen. That was more than I could bear.

"I'll fight you for that," said I, flinging my cap on the ground and
stamping a foot on it.

"Come on wid ye," retorted Tim, giving his buckle a hitch.

And there, on the lonely, wind-swept cliff, we two brothers stood up to
one another. Con, the dog, limped between us with a whine.

"You might tie the dog to the gate till we're done, Barry," said Tim.

"You're right, Tim," said I; "I will."

It took no long time, but 'twas long enough to cool my blood, and when I
returned to Tim I had less stomach for the fight than before.

"Was it 'Frenchman' you said?" asked I, hoping he might say no.

"Troth and I did," said he.

But it seemed to me he too was less fiery than when he spoke last.

So we fought. And I know not how it went. We were a fair match. What
I lacked in strength I made up for in quickness, and if Tim hit me hard
I hit him often.

But it was a miserable business, and our hearts were sorer than our
bodies. For we loved one another as we loved our own lives. And on a
day like this, when mother lay dying at home, and father was out with
the trawlers in the tempest, we lacked spirit to fight in earnest. Only
when Tim called me "Fren