he tenancy of Bridget and her brood had not improved it
externally. The lease was evidently a repairing one. For holes in the
thatch roof were stopped with heather, or mended with broad slabs of
turf held down with stones and laboriously strengthened with wattle--a
marvel of a roof. It is certain that Boyd's efforts were never
continuous. He tired of everything in an hour, or sooner--unless
somebody, preferably a woman, was watching him and paying him
compliments on his dexterity.

The cottage had originally consisted of the usual "but-and-ben"--that is
to say, in well regulated houses (which this one was not) of a
kitchen--and a room that was not the kitchen. The family beds occupied
one corner of the kitchen, that of Bridget and her husband in the middle
(including accommodation for the latest baby), while on either side and
at the foot, shakedowns were laid out "for the childer," slightly raised
from the earthen floor on rude trestles, with a board laid across to
receive the bedding. There was nothing at either side to provide against
the occupants rolling over, but, as the distance from the ground did
not average more than four inches, the young Connoways did not run much
danger of accident on that account.

Disputes were, however, naturally somewhat frequent. Jerry or Phil would
describe himself as "lying on so many taturs"--Mary or Kitty declare
that her bedfellow was "pullin' every scrap off of her, that she was!"

To quell these domestic brawls Bridget Connoway kept at the head of the
middle bed a long peeled willow, which was known as the "Thin One." The
Thin One settled all night disputes in the most evenhanded way. For
Bridget did not get out of bed to discriminate. She simply laid on the
spot from which the disturbance proceeded till that disturbance ceased.
Then the Thin One returned to his corner while innocent and guilty
mingled their tears and resolved to conduct hostilities more silently in
future.

In the daytime, however, the "Thick One" held sway, which was the
work-hardened palm of Mistress Bridget Connoway's hand. She was
ambidextrous in correction--"one was as good as t'other," as Jerry
remarked, after he had done rubbing himself and comparing damages with
his brother Phil, who had got the left. "There's not a fardin' to pick
between us!" was the verdict as the boys started out to find their
father, stretched on his favourite sunny mound within sight of the
Haunted House of Marnhoul--now more