ld handle the thing together--what there is
of it, Mr. Madigan," he added hastily, as Madigan was about to speak;
and he leaned forward, holding out his hand boyishly. "There may not be
much, but I can get English capital to develop it, at a sacrifice of
half its value now, and its possibilities. So that will leave only
quarter shares for each of us. I may be offering you only a lot of work
and a disappointment at the end. But the thing seemed worth enough to
me, 'way over on the other side, to come out here and look into it
myself. And one thing that made it seem so was the desperate battle you
had fought to keep it. I hoped--I hoped you'd like me well enough, when
we got to know each other, to help me with your experience,
and--frankly, to help yourself in helping me. I had no intention of
saying all this to-night, but--allow me, Cousin Kate."

He had dropped Madigan's hand after a hearty squeeze, and was standing
holding open the door for Kate to pass.

It was a glorified Kate, for, lo, the veil of ill humor had fallen; a
treacherous Kate, Sissy would have said, for she shone out now, warm and
sparkling, upon the man who had had the discrimination to let a brood of
small Madigans pass without special attention, yet who jumped to his
feet when the young-lady daughter of the house made her exit, and stood
looking after her till Madigan hauled him off to the library to talk
about the Tomboy.

* * * * *

That certain contentment which followed after an unusually good dinner,
when the world and the Madigans were young together, had inspired Old
Mother Gibson. The original couplet, with which all Madigans are
familiar, is not strictly quotable; it was not invented, but adopted, by
them. And it served merely to give a name to the game, which was half a
war-dance, half a cake-walk, accompanied by chanted couplets composed by
each performer in turn; said couplets being necessarily original and
relevant locally. The accompaniment--an easy change of chords--was
played on the piano _colla voce_. And no one minded in the least a
foot, more or less, at the end of a verse. The joke was the thing with
the Madigans, and the impromptu rhyme that brought down the house was
the one that hit hardest.

For Old Mother Gibson was a satire, a pasquinade, a flesh-and-blood
libel done in rhyme, of wildest license both as to form and matter, and
set to music--to be discharged full at the head of the victim. I