hat way!" said Christian, her head up, her
mood answering his, "apparently it is the only thing to be done!"

There came a tap at the door. Dr. Mangan's voice said: "I'm going back
to Cluhir now. Haven't you to meet Father Greer at twelve o'clock,
Larry? I could give you a lift if you like--"

* * * * *

From an early work on the Fauna of the Indian Forest the following
extract may be quoted:

"The elephant's trunk then encircled the young man's body, and placing
him gently upon its back, the huge creature ambled away with its prize
to the depths of the jungle."

CHAPTER XXXIII

Little Mary Twomey, footing it into Cluhir on a misty Saturday
morning, with a basket of fowl under her brown and buff shawl, was not
sorry when, from a side road on the line of march, a donkey-cart,
driven by an acquaintance, drew forth at the instant of her passing.

"God bless ye, John Brien," she said, when the suitable salutations
and comments on the weather had been exchanged, with the rigorous
courtesy observed by such as Mary Twomey and John Brien with one
another, "this basket is very weighty on me--"

"Put it up on the butt, ma'am," responded John Brien. "Put it up, for
God's sake, and let you sit up with it. Sure the ass is able for more
than yourself!"

This referred, with polite facetiousness, to Mrs. Twomey's stature,
and was taken by her in excellent part.

She uttered a brief screech. "Isn't it what they say they puts the
best of goods in the small passels?" she demanded; "but for all, I
wouldn't wish it to be too small altogether! 'Look!' I says to that
owld man I have, 'Look! When I'll be dead, let ye tell the
car-pennther that he'll make the coffin a bit-een too long, the way
the people'll think the womaneen inside in it wasn't altogether too
small entirely!'"

"Arrah, don't talk of dyin' for a while, ma'am!" said John Brien,
gallantly. "Aren't you an' me about the one age, and faith, when
you're dyin' I'll be sending for the priest for meself!"

"Well, please God, the pair of us'll knock out a spell yet!" responded
Mrs. Twomey, cheerfully; "for as little as I am, the fly itself
wouldn't like to die!"

John Brien did not question this assertion. "The 'fluenzy is very
raging these times," he remarked.

"'Tis a nassty, dirty disease altogether, God help us!" said Mrs.
Twomey, with feeling.

"It is, and very numerous," replied John Brien. "There's people dying
now that n