n, not attending to him, "in
makin' any bargain, Connor, be sure to make as hard a one as you can;
but for all that be honest, an' never lind a penny o' money widout
interest."

"I think he's wandherin'," whispered his mother. "Oh grant it may be so,
marciful Jasus this day!"

"Honor ahagur."

"Well, darlin', what is it?"

"There's another thing that throubles me--I never knew what it was to
feel myself far from my own till now."

"How is that, dear?"

"My bones won't rest in my own counthry; I won't sleep wid them that
belong to me. How will I lie in a strange grave, and in a far land? Oh,
will no one bring me back to my own?"

The untutored sympathies of neither wife nor son could resist this
beautiful and affecting trait of nature, and the undying love of one's
own land, emanating, as it did, so unexpectedly, from a heart otherwise
insensible to the ordinary tendernesses of life.

"Sure you are at home, avourneen," said Honor; "an' will rest wid your
friends and relations that have gone before you."

"No," said he, "I'm not, I'm far away from them, but now I feel more
comforted; I have one wid me that's dearer to me than them all. Connor
and I will sleep together, won't we, Connor?"

This affectionate transition from every other earthly object to himself,
so powerfully smote the son's heart that he could not reply.

"What ails him, Connor?" said his wife. "Help me to keep up his
head--Saver above!"

Connor raised his head, but saw at a glance that the last struggle in
the old man's heart was over. The miser was no more.

Little now remains to be said. The grief for old age, though natural, is
never abiding.

The miser did sleep with his own; and after a decent period allotted
to his memory, need we say that our hero and heroine, if we may be
permitted so to dignify them, were crowned in the enjoyment of those
affections which were so severely tested, and at the same time so worthy
of their sweet reward.

Ned M'Cormick and Biddy Nulty followed their example, and occupied
the house formerly allotted to Fardorougha and his wife. John O'Brien
afterwards married, and the Bodagh, reserving a small but competent
farm for himself, equally divided his large holdings between his son and
son-in-law. On John's mojority he built a suitable house; but Una and her
husband, and Honor, all live with themselves, and we need scarcely say,
for it is not long since we spent a week with them, that the affection
of the