e misthress that thinks
so?"

"Bless her, she was always in and out of it from the time she could
toddle," said Mrs. Brown, pausing with the teapot in her hand. "And
she wasn't much more than toddlin' before she was at me to teach her
to cook. When she was twelve she could cook a dinner as well as anyone
twice her age. I never see the beat of her--handy as a man out on the
run, too--"

"She was that," said Murty solemnly. "Since she was a bit of a thing I
never see the bullock as could get away from her. And the ponies she'd
ride! There was nothin' ever looked through a bridle that cud frighten
her."

"Poof! Miss Norah didn't know what it was to be afraid," said Mrs.
Brown, filling the huge brown teapot. "Sometimes I've wished she was,
for me heart's been in me mouth often and often when I see her go
caperin' down the track on some mad-'eaded pony."

"An' there was niver a time when they was late home but you made sure
the whole lot of 'em was killed," said Murty, grinning. "I'd come in
here an' find you wit' all the funerals planned, so to speak--"

"Ah, go on! At least, I alwuz stayed at home when I was nervis," said
Mrs. Brown. "Who was it I've known catch an 'orse in the dark, an' go
off to look for 'em when they were a bit late? Not me, Mr. O'Toole!" She
filled his cup and handed it to him with a triumphant air.

"Yerra, I misremember doin' any such thing," said Murty, slightly
confused. "'Tis the way I was most likely goin' afther a sick bullock,
or it might be 'possum shootin'." He raised his cup and took a deep
draught; then, with a wry face, gazed at its contents. "I dunno is this
a new brand of tea you're afther usin', now? Sure, it looks pale."

Mrs. Brown cast a glance at the cup he held out, and gave a gasp of
horror.

"Well, not in all me born days 'ave I made tea an' forgot to put the tea
in!" she exclaimed, snatching it from his hand. "Don't you go an' tell
Dave and Mick, Murty, or I'll never hear the end of it. Lucky there's
plenty of hot water." She emptied the teapot swiftly, and refilled it,
this time with due regard to the tea-caddy.

"Now, Murty, don't you sit there grinnin' at me like a hyener--it isn't
every day I get Miss Norah home."

"It is not," said Murty, taking his renewed cup and a large piece of
bread and butter. "Sure, I'd not blame ye if ye fried bacon in the
tea-pot--not this morning. I dunno, meself, am I on me head or me heels.
All the men is much the same; they've been