ingle
moment to lose. Think now whether you love your son or your money best."

"Saver of earth, amn't I an unhappy man! every one sayin' I have money,
an' me has not! Where would I get it? Where would a man like me get it?
Instead o' that, I'm so poor that I see plainly I'll starve yet; I see
it's before me! God pity me this day! But agin, there's my boy, my boy;
oh, God, pity him! Say what's the laste, the lowest, the very lowest you
could take, for defendin' him; an' for pity's sake, for charity's sake,
for God's sake, don't grind a poor, helpless, ould man by extortion. If
you knew the boy--if you knew him--oh, afore my God, if you knew him,
you wouldn't be apt to charge a penny; you'd be proud to sarve sich a
boy."

"You wish everything possible to be done for him, of course."

"Of coorse, of coorse; but widout extravagance; as asy an' light on a
poor man as you can. You could shorten it, sure, an' lave out a grate
dale that 'ud be of no use; nu' half the paper 'ud do; for you might
make the clerks write close--why, very little 'ud be wanted if you wor
savin'."

"I can defend him with one counsel if you wish; but, if anxious to save
the boy's life, you ought to enable your attorney to secure a strong bar
of the most eminent lawyers he can engage."

"An' what 'ud it cost to hire three or four of them?"

"The whole expenses might amount to between thirty and forty guineas."

A deep groan of dismay, astonishment, and anguish, was the only reply
made to this for some time.

"Oh, heavens above!" he screamed, "what will--what will become of me!
I'd rather be dead, as I'll soon be, than hear this, or know it at all.
How could I get it? I'm as poor as poverty itself! Oh, couldn't you feel
for the boy, an' defend him on trust; couldn't you feel for him?"

"It's your business to do that," returned the man of law, coolly.

"Feel for him; me! oh, little you know how my heart's in him; but any
way, I'm an unhappy man; everything in the world wide goes against me;
but--oh, my darlin' boy--Connor, Connor, my son, to be tould that I
don't feel for you--well you know, avourneen machree--well you know that
I feel for you, and 'ud kiss the track of your feet upon the ground:
Oh, it's cruel to tell it to me; to say sich a thing to a man that his
heart's braakin' widin him for your sake; but, sir, you sed this minute
that you could defend him wid one lawyer?"

"Certainly, and with a cheap one, too, if you wish; but, in that