e as like her as
if the both of them had come out of the one egg, and you could be takin'
that instid. It's a lucky thing I didn't set her to sit the way I was
intendin'; on'y I niver could get a clutch gathered for her, be raison
of the lads aitin' up the eggs on me. Sure, I can't keep them from the
little bosthoons when they be hungry."

"'Twould be all the same thing to me, in coorse, supposin' she was
equally so good," Jerry admitted with caution.

"Ivery feather she is," said Mrs. Joyce. "I seen her runnin' about there
just this minute; you can be lookin' at her yourself."

She went towards the door as she spoke, and was somewhat taken aback to
perceive her husband leaning against the wall close outside. How much of
the discussion he might have heard, she could not tell. The white hen
also appeared within easy reach, daintily resplendent under the sunshine
on a background of black turf. And Mrs. Ryan, standing darkly framed in
her doorway, was very certain to be an interested observer of events.
For the moment Mrs. Joyce's uppermost anxiety was to avoid any betrayal
of discomfiture, and she accordingly said in a loud and cheerful tone:

"Och, and are you there, Andy? Jerry Dunne's wishful for the loan of a
clockin' hin, so I'm about catchin' him the young white one to take home
wid him."

But, to her intense disgust, Jerry, who had followed her with his
basket, said remonstrantly: "Whethen now, Mrs. Joyce, the way I
understand the matter there's no talk in it of borryin' at all. I'm on'y
takin' her back instid of the ould one, and I question would any
raisonable body stand me out I don't own her be rights. It's an unjust
thing to be spakin' of loans."

Mrs. Joyce was so dumbfounded by this rebuff that she could only hide
her confusion by displaying an exaggerated activity in the capture of
the hen.

Her husband, however, said blandly, "Och, don't make yourself onaisy,
man. Loan or no loan, you needn't be under any apperhinsion we'll be
comin' after her wid a basket. Divil a much. Stir yourself, Kitty, and
be clappin' her in under the lid. He's in a hurry to get home to his
sweetheart wid the iligant prisint he's after pickin' up for her. Ay,
that's right, woman alive; give a tie to the bit of string, and then
there's nothin' to be delayin' him."

After this everybody said good-bye with much politeness and affability,
though withal a certain air of despatch, as if they were conscious of
handling rather per