m from
the dull eyes and disclosed a sparkle beneath.

The drear days went by, and Tony lay like a veritable Samson shorn of
his strength, for his voice was sunken to a hoarse, sibilant whisper,
and his black eyes gazed fiercely from the shock of hair and beard
about a white face. Life went on pretty much as before in the shop;
the children paused to ask how Mr. Tony was, and even hushed the
jingles on their bell hoops as they passed the door. Red-headed
Jimmie, Mrs. Murphy's nephew, did the hard jobs, such as splitting wood
and lifting coal from the bin; and in the intervals between tending the
fallen giant and waiting on the customers, Tony's wife sat in her
accustomed chair, knitting fiercely, with an inscrutable smile about
her purple compressed mouth.

Then John came, introducing himself, serpent-wise, into the Eden of her
bosom.

John was Tony's brother, huge and bluff too, but fair and blond, with
the beauty of Northern Italy. With the same lack of race pride which
Tony had displayed in selecting his German spouse, John had taken unto
himself Betty, a daughter of Erin, aggressive, powerful, and
cross-eyed. He turned up now, having heard of this illness, and
assumed an air of remarkable authority at once.

A hunted look stole into the dull eyes, and after John had departed
with blustering directions as to Tony's welfare, she crept to his
bedside timidly.

"Tony," she said,--"Tony, you are very sick."

An inarticulate growl was the only response.

"Tony, you ought to see the priest; you mustn't go any longer without
taking the sacrament."

The growl deepened into words.

"Don't want any priest; you 're always after some snivelling old
woman's fuss. You and Mrs. Murphy go on with your church; it won't
make YOU any better."

She shivered under this parting shot, and crept back into the shop.
Still the priest came next day.

She followed him in to the bedside and knelt timidly.

"Tony," she whispered, "here's Father Leblanc."

Tony was too languid to curse out loud; he only expressed his hate in a
toss of the black beard and shaggy mane.

"Tony," she said nervously, "won't you do it now? It won't take long,
and it will be better for you when you go--Oh, Tony, don't--don't
laugh. Please, Tony, here's the priest."

But the Titan roared aloud: "No; get out. Think I'm a-going to give
you a chance to grab my money now? Let me die and go to hell in peace."

Father Leblanc knelt meekly and prayed