n a position to
enable their pastor to gratify his artistic tastes.

Dan presently confided his troubles and difficulties anent the
changing of the order, and was desired by the priest to call in the
afternoon, when he would himself go with him to the post-office. Then
Father Taylor withdrew, feeling a little sad at the thought of losing
two such old parishioners, and a little impatient with the
over-affectionate nephew, who had so late in the day insisted on their
uprootal.

"How much more sensible it would have been," he said to himself, "how
much more truly kind, if Larry, instead of transplanting the poor old
couple in their old age, had sent them a small sum of money every
month to enable them to end their days in comfort at home." But there
was apparently nothing for it now but to take what steps he could to
help them over the difficulties of their flitting.

About five o'clock Dan duly made his appearance, wearing a much more
jubilant aspect than when his pastor had taken leave of him. With a
comical and somewhat sheepish grin he produced the "ordher" in a
crumpled condition from his tattered pocket, and handed it over to the
priest, remarking, as he did so, that "it was a quare thing to think
what a power o' money did be in a little or'nary thing like that."

"Yes, indeed," said Father Taylor, with a sigh, "that little bit of
paper will carry you and Mary all the way over the sea, and across a
State as big as Ireland."

"Would it now?" inquired Dan, eyeing it curiously. "Well now, to tell
you the truth, yer reverence, herself an' me has been havin' a bit of
a chat. She thinks bad, the cratur', of lavin' the bed, an' the ould
pot, an' all our little sticks o' things behind, ye know, sir, an' I
do be thinkin' I'd never get my health at all out of ould Ireland; an'
any way the two of us is too ould to be thravellin' off that way. An'
so herself says to me--she says:--'Dan,' says she, 'I think the best
way would be for ye to step down to his reverence's,' says she, 'an'
give him the ordher,' she says, 'an' ax him,' says she, 'if he'll just
write a line to poor Larry, an' let him know that we haven't the heart
nor the strength to be lavin' our own little place. An' bid him,' says
she, "ax Larry if it 'ud be all the same to him if his reverence was
to keep the money for us agin we want it.'"

"To be sure, to be sure," cried Father Taylor, delighted. "You show
your good sense, Dan, and so does Mary. I'll just go