and a wide mouth with perfect white teeth. Her sleeves
were rolled above her elbows, showing a pair of solid, red, freckled
forearms, and in one hand she carried a mop. Amazed at this apparition,
Angus gaped at her.

"Well," said the lady in accents which left no doubt of her nationality,
"well, misther man, an' phwat will yez be wantin'?"

"Is Miss Winton at home?" Angus asked.

"She is _nat_."

"She's living here now, isn't she?"

"She is."

"Which way has she gone?"

"I dunno."

"Then I'll wait," Angus decided.

"Outside!" the lady also decided.

Bang! The door shut in Angus' face. Immediately the thump and swish
began again, though the moaning obligato did not. Angus sat down on the
steps and filled his pipe, but found he had no matches. For some moments
he sat there, sucking the cold stem and wondering where the deuce Faith
Winton had picked up this woman. No doubt she and her girl friend had
gone for a walk. Well, he might as well be doing something.

He went around to the back of the house where he had hauled a pile of
wood, picked up an old ax and began to split. Once the lady of the mop
came to the back door and took a long look at him. By and by, tiring of
splitting and wanting a smoke very badly, he put on his coat and went to
the door to request a match. The lady of the mop met him on the
threshold.

"Could you give me--" he began, but she cut him short.

"I could _nat_," she said grimly. "Who asked ye to do ut? On yer way!"

"But--"

"They's nawthin' comin' to ye," the lady asserted. "Ut's no handout
yez'll get here."

"But I don't want--"

"Yez want coin, do yez? Divil th' cint will yez get!"

"No, no," Angus protested, "you're all wrong. I want--"

"An' do I care phwat yez want, ye black-avised bo?" the lady shouted in
a tops'l-yard-ahoy bellow. "Beggars on harrseback I've heerd iv, but
ye're the first I've seen. On yer way; or th' flat iv me hand and th'
toe iv me boot is phwat ye'll dhraw, for all the bigness iv ye, ye long,
lazy, herrin'--bel--"

"Give me a match!" Angus roared through this wealth of personal
description, despairing of making his want known otherwise. "I want a
match, that's all."

"A match?" the lady exclaimed.

"Sure, to light my pipe with," Angus told her. "I'm not a hobo. I'm
working the place for Miss Winton."

"And why couldn't ye say so before?" she demanded, frowning at him.

"Because you wouldn't give me a chance. You wouldn't let me get in a