nd
the superintendence of Edith.

"I say, Losh," cried Bryan to his companion, whose head was at the
moment hid from view in a cloud of steam that ascended from a large pot
over which he bent, apparently muttering incantations.

"Vell, fat you want?"

"Faix, and it's just _fat_ that I don't want," said Bryan, pointing, as
he spoke, to the large pudding, which, being much too large for the
kettle, was standing on the rim thereof like the white ball of foam that
caps a tankard of double X. "It's more nor twice too fat already. The
kittle won't hould it, no how."

"Oh, stuff him down, dat is de way," suggested La Roche.

"Stuff it down, avic, an' what's to come o' the wather?" said Bryan.

"Ah! true, dat is perplexible, vraiment."

At this moment the large pot boiled over and a cloud of scalding steam
engulfed the sympathetic Frenchman, causing him to yell with mingled
pain and rage as he bounded backwards.

"Musha! but ye'll come to an early death, Losh, if ye don't be more
careful o' yer dried-up body."

"Taisez vous, donc," muttered his companion, half angrily.

"Taisin' ye? avic, sorra wan o' me's taisin' ye. But since ye can't
help me out o' me throubles, I'll try to help mysilf."

In pursuance of this noble resolve, Bryan went to the store and fetched
from thence another large tin kettle. He then undid the covering of the
unwieldy pudding, which he cut into two equal parts, and having squeezed
them into two balls, tied them up in the cloth, which he divided for the
purpose, and put them into the separate kettles, with the air of a man
who had overcome a great difficulty by dint of unfathomable wisdom. It
was found, however, that the smaller pudding, intended for Stanley's
table, was also too large for its kettle; but the energetic blacksmith,
whose genius was now thoroughly aroused, overcame this difficulty by
cutting off several pounds of it, and transferring the pudding thus
reduced to the kettle, saying in an undertone as he did so, "There's
more nor enough for the six o' ye yit, av yer only raisonable in yer
appetites."

But the superfluity of the pudding thus caused became now a new source
of trouble to Bryan.

"What's to be done wid it, Losh? I don't like to give it to the dogs,
an' it's too small intirely to make a dumplin' of."

"You better heat him raw," suggested La Roche.

"Faix, an' I've half a mind to; but it would spile my dinner. Hallo!
look out for the vainison, Losh."

"Ah