replied Mrs. Quirk. "Did he ever tell me
anything I should do that was not the only thing to do?"

Samuel Quirk grunted disbelievingly. "Oh, he's right enough for the
soul, but what would Father Healy know about the body?" he asked.

Mrs. Quirk having placed the yeast in his mind, left it to ferment. She
well knew that in a few days' time a letter would be despatched to the
Presbytery at Grey Town. And this happened as she anticipated. In due
course, too, the answer came back to them.

"Why not buy 'Layton' and settle down on the land? It will give you
something to do, and lengthen your own and Mrs. Quirk's life," the
priest wrote.

Samuel Quirk read the letter to his wife, commenting unfavourably on it
the while.

"Buy a farm? What would I be doing on a farm?" he asked.

"Why not go down to Grey Town and see the place for yourself?" suggested
Mrs. Quirk.

After a prolonged argument, the old man again accepted her advice. It
was something of an adventure to him to journey so far by train, and to
spend a night away from home. But it was far worse for the old woman,
as he always termed her, to be alone in the shop for thirty-six hours.
She missed her husband's rough voice, the heavy shuffling tread, above
all the rare endearments that she valued for their infrequency. When
Samuel Quirk returned he was received as if his absence had lasted
twelve months.

"Well? Are we to go?" she asked.

"It's done. The place is bought and sold, and it's mine--and yours," he
answered.

"Is it a grand place?" she questioned.

"It's as grand as the Governor's house," replied the old man. "I
couldn't count the rooms, and the gardens are amazing."

A sigh came from her lips as she cast her eyes around the small
sitting-room where every object was familiar.

"Can we take our things with us?" she asked.

"Take these!" he replied scornfully. "I've bought furniture, cows and
horses, everything. What would we do with these?"

He was a man, and she a woman, whose heart was devoted to these old
familiar, useful friends. A few of them she took with her, and placed in
her own room at the new home, among them the old cane chair where her
husband had sat, night after night, to smoke his pipe.

In the new home, Samuel Quirk soon found work and pleasure in
supervising the employees. Of agriculture and horticulture he knew
nothing, but he gathered knowledge speedily as he stood over his
workers. He bore the transplanting well, and thr