to us. There's thruth and sense in it,
too, ye will find.--It's a fine counthree is this, Masther Barry, and
a free," added Biddy, turning to a stout man, who, with scarcely a
whole article in his apparel, was lounging in the shade of a corner.

"Thrue for ye," he replied,--"though it's little I get out of it,
barrin' the sup o' whisky wi' my supper."

"But ye might--the more shame it is. Ye are weel-conditioned and
hearty. It's no the counthree is to blame, neighbour, nor Katy indade.
She works night and day for ye an' the childer. Ye are better here
than over the sae."

"Oh, then, I don't know. When I came to this counthree, I had never a
rag to me back, an' now, faith, I'm nothing but rags. A fine, illigant
counthree!"

"Lave the liquor alone, Peter Barry, and ye may have the best of the
land for yerself. An' ye would give up the dhrinking, a better lad
could not be found, nor a handsomer."

"It's too sthrong for me. It's many a day have I given it up for ever,
and been drunk as a beast in an hour. But to-night, says Katy to me,
'It's the heretic Bible as is read at Mrs. Dillon's has a cure in it
for weak sinners like you, Peter dear.' So I came to hear a bit o' the
Bible, an' ye plaze."

So Kirwan's Letters were laid aside, and a New Testament brought out.
Phelim read very poorly, and was often obliged to spell over the long
words, and did not always succeed in giving the correct pronunciation;
but no fault was found by his eager listeners. He read how Christ
healed the leper, and poor Peter Barry found in the story a word of
encouragement for him. He read of the Saviour's gracious compassion
for the hungering multitude; and his ignorant auditors praised the
divine Being who so sympathized with mortal infirmities. Phelim was
often interrupted by remarks or approving comments, but these in no
way diminished the interest of the sacred story.

CHAPTER VIII.

ANNIE'S DEATH--ANNORAH'S PROSPECTS.

On every pleasant evening Biddy Dillon's cottage was thronged by those
who came to listen to the Word of God. It was in vain that Father
M'Clane opposed these meetings. His threats and arguments, once so
potent, seemed now but to lessen his power. He even secured the
services of a neighbouring priest, and with him visited each Irish
family in succession, coaxing and flattering where his authority was
not acknowledged. But, alas for him and his prospects! he could do
nothing with the people.

The Protestant