y in his ar-rms.

"I'll not say Ahearn was a changed man. Th' love iv money was knitted
into his heart; an', afther th' la-ad come, th' way he ground th' people
that lived in his house was death an' destruction. 'I must provide f'r
me own,' he said. But thim that was kind to th' kid cud break th' crust,
an' all th' r-rough, hard-wurrkin' tenants paid f'r th' favors he give
to th' ol' frauds an' beguilin' women that petted Dan'l O'Connell
Ahearn. Nawthin' was too good f'r th' kid. He had nurses an' servants to
wait on him. He had clothes that'd stock this ba-ar f'r a year. Whin he
was old enough, he was sint to Saint Ignatyous. An' th' ol' man'd take
him walkin' on a Sundah, an' pint out th' rows an' rows iv houses, with
th' childher in front gazin' in awe at th' great man an' their fathers
glowerin' fr'm the windows, an' say, 'Thim will all be yours whin ye
grow up, Dan'l O'Connell, avick.'

"Well, it didn't take an eye iv a witch to see that Dan'l O'Connell was
a bor-rn idjet. They was no rale harm in th' poor la-ad, on'y he was
lazy an' foolish an' sort iv tired like. To make a long story short,
Hinnissy, his father thried ivrything f'r him, an' got nawthin.' He
didn't dhrink much, he cared little f'r women, he liked to play ca-ards,
but not f'r money. He did nawthin' that was bad; an' yet he was no good
at all, at all,--just a slow, tired, aisy-goin', shamblin' la-ad,--th'
sort that'd wrench th' heart iv a father like Ahearn. I dinnaw what he
did fin'lly, but wan night he come into my place an' said he'd been
turned out be his father an' wanted a place f'r to sleep. 'Ye'll sleep
at home,' says I. 'Ye'er father sh'd take shame to himsilf,--him a rich
man.' An' I put on me coat, an' wint over to Ahearn's. I was a power in
th' wa-ard in thim days, an' feared no man alive. Th' ol' la-ad met us
at th' dure. Whin I started to speak, he blazed up. 'Misther Dooley,'
says he, 'my sorrows are me own. I'll keep thim here. As f'r ye,' he
says, an' tur-rned like a tiger on th' boy an' sthruck him with his ol'
leathery hand. Th' boy stood f'r a minyit, an' thin walked out, me with
him. I niver see him since. We left Ahearn standin' there, as we used to
say iv th' fox in th' ol' counthry, cornered between th' river an' th'
wall."

"Ye're lucky to be alone," said Mr. Hennessy as he left.

"I think so," said Mr. Dooley. But there was no content upon his face as
he watched a lounging oaf of a boy catch up with Mr. Hennessy, exchang