that same; so come along wid ye, for ye'll git nought but
air for all ye're growlin' if ye stay there," were the words that fell
on John Jarvis's astonished ears, as he lay watching his companion get
into his coat at the dinner hour.

"Well, I never, if that don't beat all," he exclaimed, jumping up and
seizing his own coat. "What's put that into her head?"

"Case yer quastions an' look sharp now, for I want ye to have a look
round me bit uv ground afther dinner," good-humouredly replied Tim.

The meal to which John presently sat down was simple enough but
abundant, and such as he seldom partook of at his own table. He could
not help also contrasting the bright, happy faces of Tim's wife and
children with his own. He became silent and absorbed in thought, as he
walked round Tim's garden when the repast was ended.

"Ye're an' illigant slip uv a pig, an'll make good mate to ralish the
bread an' praties nixt winter, shure now, won't ye?" said Tim,
addressing himself to the bristly porker who grunted his approval of his
master's hand, as the two men leaned over the sty.

"I'd advase ye to kape a pig, Jack; ye've no idaya how handy a bit uv
bacon is through the winter, wid so many mouths to be fadin'."

"You might just as well advise me to set up a carriage and pair,"
answered John, somewhat testily.

"Nonsinse, ye might do it jist as aisy as mesilf."

"I'd like to know how you make that out, when I never have a penny to
bless myself with after I've paid up on Saturday nights."

"Jist tell me how much ye an' yer ould woman spind a week in beer," was
the unexpected reply.

"At yer old game, matey, eh; well, really now, I can't say. Perhaps I
take three pints a day; not much for a working man, Tim."

"An' maybe yer wife wad take a pint an' a half uv bitther, that wad make
sixpence a day for yersilf, an' fourpence ha'pinny for hersilf; an' ye
know ye ofthen spind more nor that. That 'ud make six shillin' an' a
pinny three farthin's a wake; wan poun' six shillin' an' eight pince a
month; an' sixteen poun' a year. How many pigs de ye sind down yer
throats at that rate in the coorse uv twelve months, me bhoy?"

John Jarvis stood open-eyed and open-mouthed.

"Sixteen pound a year! What on earth have I been a doin'? Sixteen pound
a year; who'd have thought it!" he ejaculated presently; and no more
could Tim get out of him, till, late in the afternoon of that day, he
emptied a hod of bricks at Tim's feet with such ener