y--a charm that touched the heart of the
beholder at once with love and compassion. As yet there had been no
sickness among them; but who could say to-day that he or she might not
be stricken down at once before to-morrow.

"Donnel," said Sullivan, after he had taken a seat, "how you came to
prophecy what would happen, an' what has happened, is to me a wondher;
but sure enough, _fareer gair_, (* bitter misfortune) it has all come to
pass."

"I can't tell myself," replied the other, "how I do it; all I know is,
that the words come into my mouth, an' I can't help spakin' them. At
any rate, that's not surprisin'. I'm the seventh son of the seventh son,
afther seven generations; that is I'm the seventh seventh son that was
in our family; an' you must know that the knowledge increases as they go
on. Every seventh son knows more than thim that wint before him till
it comes to the last, and he knows more than thim all. There were six
seventh sons before me, so that I'm the last; for it was never known
since the world began that ever more than seven afther one another had
the gift of prophecy in the same family. That's the raison, you see,
that I have no sons--the knowledge ends wid me."

"It's very strange," replied Sullivan, "an' not to be accounted for by
any one but God--glory be to his name!"

"It is strange--an' when I find that I'm goin' to foretell any thing
that's bad or unlucky, I feel great pain or uneasiness in my mind--but
on the other hand, when I am to prophesy what's good, I get quite
light-hearted and aisy--I'm all happiness. An' that's the way I feel
now, an' has felt for the last day or two."

"I wish to God, Donnel," said Mrs. Sullivan, "that you could prophesize
something good for us."

"Or," continued her charitable and benevolent husband, "for the
thousands of poor creatures that wants it more still than we do--sure
it's thankful to the Almighty we ought to be--an' is, I hope--that
this woful sickness hasn't come upon us yet. Even Condy Dalton an'
his family--ay, God be praised for givin' me the heart to do it--I can
forgive him and them."

"Don't say them, Jerry ahagur," observed his wife, "we never had any bad
feelin' against them."

"Well, well," continued the husband, "I can forgive him an' all o'
them now--for God help them, they're in a state of most heart-breakin'
distitution, livin' only upon the bits that the poor starvin' neighbors
is able to crib from their own hungry mouths for them!