kitchen-floor swept clean, and to put
the potatoes on a dish, instead of emptying them out of the pot into the
middle of the table; and, besides, 'twas a cruel, unnatural thing, they
said, to take away the pool from the ducks, that they were always used
to paddle in so handy. But my mother was always too busy and too happy
to heed what they said; and, besides, she was always so ready to do a
kind turn for any of them, that, out of poor shame, they had at last to
leave off abusing her "fine English ways."

West of our house there was a straggling, stony piece of ground, where,
within the memory of man nothing ever grew but nettles, docks, and
thistles. One Monday, when Richard and myself came in from school, my
mother told us to set about weeding it, and to bring in some basketfuls
of good clay from the banks of the river; she said that if we worked
well at it until Saturday, she'd bring me a new frock, and Dick a
jacket, from the next market-town; and encouraged by this, we set to
work with right good will, and didn't leave off till supper time. The
next day we did the same; and by degrees, when we saw the heap of weeds
and stones that we got out, growing big, and the ground looking nice and
smooth and red and rich, we got quite anxious about it ourselves, and we
built a nice little fence round it to keep out the pigs. When it was
manured, my mother planted cabbages, parsnips, and onions in it; and, to
be sure, she got a fine crop out of it, enough to make us many a nice
supper of vegetables stewed with pepper, and a small taste of bacon or a
red herring. Besides, she sold in the market as much as bought a Sunday
coat for my father, a gown for herself, a fine pair of shoes for Dick,
and as pretty a shawl for myself, as e'er a colleen in the country could
show at mass. Through means of my father's industry and my mother's good
management, we were, with the blessing of God, as snug and comfortable a
poor family as any in Munster. We paid but a small rent, and we had
always plenty of potatoes to eat, good clothes to wear, and cleanliness
and decency in and about our little cabin.

Five years passed on in this way, and at last little Mary was born. She
was a delicate fairy thing, with that look, even from the first, in her
blue eyes, which is seldom seen, except where the shadow of the grave
darkens the cradle. She was fond of her father, and of Richard, and of
myself, and would laugh and crow when she saw us, but _the lov