fered
for my sake, and for the manner I left you.'

'There's only one thing you have any rayson to grieve over,' said the
poor fellow, as the tears started to his eyes, and rolled in heavy drops
down his cheeks, 'and here it is.'

As he spoke, he drew from his bosom a little green-silk purse, half
filled with gold.

'Ah, Captain, jewel, why wouldn't you let a poor fellow taste happiness
his own way? Is it because I had no shoes on me that I hadn't any pride
in my heart? And is it because I wasn't rich that you wouldn't let me
be a friend to you, just to myself alone? Oh, little as we know of grand
people and their ways, troth, they don't see our hearts half as plain.
See, now I 'd rather you 'd have come up to the bed that morning and
left me your curse--ay, devil a less--than that purse of money; and it
wouldn't do me as much harm.'

He dropped his head as he spoke, and his arms fell listlessly to his
side, while he stood mute and sorrow-struck before me.

'Come, Joe,' said I, holding out my hand to him--'come, Joe, forgive me.
If I didn't know better, remember we were only new acquaintance at that
time: from this hour we are more.'

The words seemed to act like a spell upon him; he stood proudly up, and
his eyes flashed with their wildest glare, while, seizing my hand, he
pressed it to his lips, and called out--

'While there's a drop in my heart, darlin'----'

'You have a letter for me,' said I, glad to turn the channel of both our
thoughts. 'Where did you get it?'

'At the Curragh, sir, no less. I was standing beside the staff, among
all the grand generals and the quality, near the Lord Liftinint, and
I heard one of the officers say, "If I knew where to write to him, I'd
certainly do so; but he has never written to any of us since his duel."
"Ah," said another, "Binton's an odd fellow that way." The minit I heard
the name, I up and said to him, "Write the letter, and I'll bring it,
and bring you an answer besides, av ye want it."

'"And who the devil are you?" said he.

'"Troth," said I, "there's more on this race knows me nor yourself, fine
as ye are." And they all began laughing at this, for the officer grew
mighty red in the face, and was angry; and what he was going to say it's
hard to tell, for just then Lord Clonmel called out--

'"Sure, it's Tipperary Joe himself; begad, every one knows him. Here,
Joe, I owe you half-a-crown since last meeting at the lough."

'"Faix, you do," says I, "and ten