his friend discoursed to him about the folly of allowing Paddy to
deceive him with bad whisky. Surely any man could tell the bad from the
good.

"It is deplorable stuff altogether, and it will not be good for Paddy
when I see him."

"Och!" burst out Ould Michael at last, "it is not the whisky at all, at
all."

"Ay, that is a great part of it, whatever."

"Och! me hea-art is broke, me hea-art is broke," groaned Ould Michael.

"Hoots, man! is it for the p'stoffice? That was not much worth to any
man."

But Ould Michael only shook his head. It was hopeless to try to make
such a man appreciate his feelings. McFarquhar rambled on, making light
of the whole affair. The loss could only be very trifling. A man could
make much more out of anything else. Poor Ould Michael bore it as long
as he could and then, rising to his feet, cried out:

"Howly mither av Moses! an' have ye no hea-art inside av ye at all, at
all? 'Tis not the money; the money is dirt!"

Here McFarquhar strongly dissented. Ould Michael heeded him not, but
poured out his bitterness and grief. "For twinty years and more did I
folly the flag in all lands and in all climates, wid wounds all over me
body, an' medals an' good conduct sthripes an'--an' all that; an' now,
wid niver a word av complaint or explanashun, to be turned aff like a
dog an' worse."

Then the matter-of-fact McFarquhar, unable to understand these
sentimental considerations, but secretly delighted that he had got Ould
Michael to unbosom himself, began to draw him.

"Not twenty years, Michael."

"Twenty-foive years it is, an' more, I'm tellin' ye," replied Ould
Michael, "an' niver wance did the inimy see the back av me coat or the
dust av me heels; an' to think----"

"How long was it, then, you were with Sir Colin?" continued McFarquhar,
cunningly.

"Wid Sir Colin? Shure an' didn't I stay wid him all the way from
Calcutta to Lucknow an' back? An' didn't I give thim faithful sarvice
here for twelve years--the first man that iver handled the mail in the
valley? An' here I am, like--like--any common man."

These were the sore spots in his heart. He was shamed before the people
of the valleys in whose presence he had stood forth as the
representative of a grateful sovereign. His Queen and his country--his
glory and pride for all these years--had forgotten him and his years of
service and had cast him aside as worthless; and now he was degraded to
the ranks of a mere private citizen! N