name, and he led her to the harmonium and
left her talking, addressing most of her instruction to Biddy M'Hale, a
long, thin, pale-faced woman, with wistful eyes.

"This won't do," said the priest, interrupting the lecturer,--"I'm not
speaking to you, miss, but to my people. I don't see one of you taking
notes, not even you, Biddy M'Hale, though you have made a fortune out
of your hins. Didn't I tell you from the pulpit that you were to bring
pencil and paper and write down all you heard. If you had known years
ago all this young lady is going to tell you you would be rolling in
your carriages to-day."

Then the priest asked the lecturer to go on, and the lady explained
that to get hens to lay about Christmas time, when eggs fetched the
best price, you must bring on your pullets early.

"You must," she said, "set your eggs in January."

"You hear that," said the priest. "Is there anyone who has got anything
to say about that? Why is it that you don't set your eggs in January?"

No one answered, and the lecturer went on to tell of the advantages
that would come to the poultry-keeper whose eggs were hatched in
December.

As she said this, the priest's eyes fell upon Biddy M'Hale, and, seeing
that she was smiling, he asked her if there was any reason why eggs
could not be hatched in the beginning of January.

"Now, Biddy, you must know all about this, and I insist on your telling
us. We are here to learn."

Biddy did not answer.

"Then what were you smiling at?"

"I wasn't smiling, your reverence."

"Yes; I saw you smiling. Is it because you think there isn't a brooding
hin in January?"

It had not occurred to the lecturer that hens might not be brooding so
early in the year, and she waited anxiously. At last Biddy said:--

"Well, your reverence, it isn't because there are no hins brooding.
You'll get brooding hins at every time in the year; but, you see, you
can't rear chickens earlier than March. The end of February is the
earliest I have ever seen. But, of course, if you could rear them in
January, all that the young lady said would be quite right. I have
nothing to say agin it. I have no fault to find with anything she says,
your reverence."

"Only that it can't be done." said the priest. "Well, you ought to
know, Biddy."

The villagers were laughing.

"That will do," said the priest. "I don't mind your having a bit of
amusement, but you're here to learn."

And as he looked round the room, quiet