Nora was there herself and all our folks. The
b'ys was very proud of her for being so old and respicted."

"Sure, Mary was an old woman, and I first coming out," repeated
Patrick, with feeling. "I went up to her that Monday night, and I
sailing on a Wednesday, an' she gave me her blessing and a present of
five shillings. She said then she 'd see me no more; 't was poor old
Mary had the giving hand, God bless her and save her! I joked her that
she 'd soon be marrying and coming out to Ameriky like meself. 'No,'
says she, 'I 'm too old. I 'll die here where I was born; this old
farm is me one home o' the world, and I 'll never be afther l'avin' it;
't is right enough for you young folks to go,' says she. I could n't
get my mouth open to answer her. 'T was meself that was very homesick
in me inside, coming away from the old place, but I had great boldness
before every one. 'T was old Mary saw the tears in me eyes then.
'Don't mind, Patsy,' says she; 'if you don't do well there, come back
to it an' I 'll be glad to take your folks in till you 'll be afther
getting started again.' She had n't the money then she got afterward
from her cousin in Dublin; 't was the kind heart of her spoke, an'
meself being but a boy that was young to maintain himself, let alone a
family. Thanks be to God, I 've done well, afther all, but for me
crooked leg. I does be dr'amin' of going home sometimes; 't is often
yet I wake up wit' the smell o' the wet bushes in the mornin' when a
man does be goin' to his work at home."

Mike Duffy looked at his brother-in-law with curiosity; the two men
were sitting side by side before Mike's house on a bit of green bank
between the sidewalk and the road. It was May, and the dandelions were
blooming all about them, thick in the grass. Patrick Quin readied out
and touched one of them with his stick. He was a lame man, and had
worked as section hand for the railroad for many years, until the bad
accident which forced him to retire on one of the company's rarely
given pensions. He had prevented a great disaster on the road; those
who knew him well always said that his position had never been equal to
his ability, but the men who stood above him and the men who were below
him held Patrick Quin at exactly the same estimate. He had limped
along the road from the clean-looking little yellow house that he owned
not far away on the river-bank, and his mind was upon his errand.

"I come over early to