nt, that I should say it. But sorra a thought had I
for the small boccawn's nationality nor for his own father's trade.
I only knew the friendship in his pretty eyes an' the sweetness that
knit our two sowls togither, like David's an' Jonathan's. Pretty it
was to walk togither, an' discourse, an' get the strap togither for
heaven knows what mischief, an' consowl each other for our broken
skins. He'd a wonderful gift at his books, for which I reverenced um,
and at the single-stick, for which I loved um. Niver to this day did
I call up the ould play-ground widout behowldin' that one boy, though
all the rest av the faces (the master's included) were vague as
wather--wather in which that one pair av eyes was reflected.

"The school was a great four-square stone buildin' beside a windy
road, and niver a tree in sight; but pastures where the grass would
cut your boot, an' stone walls, an' brown hills around, like the rim
av a saucer. All belonged to the estate that Jemmy Nichol's father
managed--a bankrupt property, or next door to that. It's done better
since he gave up the place; but when I've taken a glance at the
landscape since (as I have, once or twice) I see no difference. To me
'tis the naked land I looked upon the last day av the summer half,
when I said good-bye to Jemmy; for he was lavin' the school that same
afternoon for Dublin, to cross over to England wid his father.

"Sick at heart was I, an' filled already wid the heavy sense of
solitariness, as we stood by the great iron gate wishin' one another
fare-ye-well.

"'Jemmy avick,' says I, 'dull, dull will it be widout ye here. And,
Jemmy--send some av my heart back to me when ye write, as ye promise
to do.'

"'Wheniver I lay me down, Ned,' he answered me (though by nature a
close-hearted English boy), 'I'll think o' ye; an' wheniver I rise up
I'll think o' ye. May the Lord do so to me, an' more also, if I cease
from lovin' ye till my life's end.'

"So we kissed like a pair av girls, and off he was driven, leavin' a
great hollow inside the rim av the hills. An' I ran up to the windy
dormitory, stumblin' at ivery third step for the blindin' tears, and
watched um from the window there growin' small along the road. 'Ye
Mountains av Gilboa,' said I, shakin' my fist at the hills, 'let there
be no dew, neither let there be rain upon ye;' for I hated the place
now that Jemmy was gone.

"Well, 'twas the ould story--letters at first in plenty, then fewer,
then none