mplements
hung from rusty nails and wooden pegs. The floor was of hard mud.
There was no ceiling, and the rafters were stained black by the smoke of
the peat fire which burned in the middle of the floor, and the only
chimney for which was a small hole in the roof. A stool, a broken
chair, and a crooked table, constituted the entire furniture of the
miserable place; unless we may include a heap of straw and rags in a
corner, which served for a bed.

Seated on the stool, and bending over the fire,--was an old woman, so
wild and shrivelled in her appearance that a much less superstitious
urchin than Jacky might have believed her to be a witch. Her clothing
may be described as a bundle of rags, with the exception of a
shepherd's-plaid on her shoulders, the spotless purity of which
contrasted strangely with the dirtiness of every thing else around. The
old creature was moaning and moping over the fire, and drawing the plaid
close round her as if she were cold, although the weather was extremely
warm. At first she took no notice whatever of the entrance of her
visitors, but kept muttering to herself in the Gaelic tongue.

"A fine evening, my good woman," said Fred, laying his hand gently on
her shoulder.

"How do ye know I'm good?" she cried, turning her gleaming eyes sharply
on her questioner.

"Don't be angry, granny," put in Mr Sudberry, in a conciliatory tone.

The effect of this remark on the old woman, was the reverse of what had
been expected.

"Granny! granny!" she shrieked fiercely, holding up her skinny right arm
and shaking her fist at Mr Sudberry, "who dares to ca' me granny?"

"My dear woman, I meant no offence," said the latter, much distressed at
having unwittingly roused the anger of this strange creature, who
continued to glare furiously at the trio.

Jacky kept well in the background, and contented himself with peeping
round the door-post.

"No offence! no offence! an' you dare to ca' me granny! Go! go! _go_!"

As she uttered these three words with increasing vehemence, the last
syllable was delivered in a piercing scream. Rising suddenly from her
stool, she pointed to the door with an air of command that would have
well become the queen of the witches.

Not wishing to agitate the poor woman, whom he now regarded as a
lunatic, Mr Sudberry turned to go, but a wonderful change in the
expression of her face arrested him. Her eye had fallen on the round
visage of Jacky, and a beaming smile