casion. I'm sorry
you struck me, Condy, for I was only jokin' all the time. I never had
ill-will against you; an' in spite of what has happened, I haven't now."

A feeling of generous regret, almost amounting to remorse, instantly
touched Dalton's heart; he seized the hand of Donnel, and expressed his
sorrow for the blow he had given him.

"My God," he exclaimed, "why did I strike you? But sure no one could for
a minute suppose that you weren't in earnest."

"Well, well," said the other, "let it be a warnin' to both of us; to me,
in the first place, never to carry a joke too far; and to you, never to
allow your passion to get the betther of you, afaird that you might give
a blow in anger that you'd have cause to repent of all the days of your
life. My eye and cheek is in a frightful state; but no matther, Condy, I
forgive you, especially in the hope that you'll mark my advice."

Dalton once more asked his pardon, and expressed his unqualified sorrow
at what had occurred; after which he again shook hands with Dalton and
departed.

Sullivan felt surprised at this rencontre, especially at the nature of
its singular termination; he seemed, however, to fall into a meditative
and gloomy mood, and observed when Dalton had gone--

"If I ever had any doubt, Donnel, that my poor brother owed his death to
a Dalton, I haven't it now."

"I don't blame you much for sayin' so," replied Donnel. "I'm sorry
myself for what has happened, and especially as you were present. I'm
afeard, indeed', that a man's life would be but little in that boy's
hands under a fit of passion. I provoked him too much, though."

"I think so," said Sullivan. "Indeed, to tell you the truth, I had as
little notion that you wore jokin' as he had."

"That's my drame out last night, at all events," said Donnel.

"How is that?" asked Sullivan, as they approached the door.

"Why," said he, "I dreamed that I was lookin' for a hammer at your
house, an' I thought that you hadn't one to give me; but your daughter
Mave came to me, and said, 'here's a hammer for you, Donnel, an' take
care of it, for it belongs to Condy Dalton.' I thought I took it, an'
the first thing I found myself doin' was drivin' a nail in what appeared
to be my own coffin. The same dhrame would alarm me but that I know that
dhrames goes by contrairies, as I've reason to think this will."

"No man understands these things better than yourself, Donnel," said
Sullivan; "but, for my part, I t