conversation with a young Irishman who had come to read the
gas-meter in my house. I asked him where he came from. He said,
'Aldigarey, County Sligo.' I asked him if he knew Annie Flynn.
'Sure, didn't she marry my cousin? She lives--' Well, the short of it
is that I went right over to see her, though it was late then. I
found her a widow with two children. She nearly went crazy at the
prospect of seeing her mother again, but we agreed that we must wait
until morning. We planned--oh, come in, Annie," he called suddenly.

At his call, the shop door opened and shut. There was a rush of two
pairs of feet through the shop. In the doorway appeared a young
woman carrying a baby. Behind her came a little boy on crutches.
Granny stood like a marble statue, staring. But Maida screamed.

Who do you suppose they were?

They were Mrs. Dore and Delia and Dicky.

"Oh, my mother!" Mrs. Dore said.

"My little Annie--my little girl," Granny murmured. The tears began
to stream down her cheeks.

Followed kissings and huggings by the dozen. Followed questions and
answers by the score.

"And to t'ink you've been living forninst us all this time," Granny
said after the excitement had died down. She was sitting on the
couch now, with Delia asleep in her lap, Mrs. Dore on one side and
Dicky on the other. "And sure, me own hearrt was telling me the
trut' all the toime did Oi but listhen to ut--for 'twas loving this
foine little lad ivry minut av the day." She patted Dicky's head.
"And me niver seeing the baby that had me own name!" She cuddled
Delia close. "OI'm the happiest woman in the whole woide wurrld this
day."

It was arranged that the two families were to have Christmas dinner
together. Dicky and Mrs. Dore hurried back for a few moments to
bring their turkey to the feast.

"Granny, will you love me just the same now that you've got Dicky
and Delia?" Maida said wistfully.

"Love you, my lamb? Sure, I'll love you all the more for 'twas
t'rough you I met Misther Billy and t'rough Misther Billy I found me
Annie. Ah, Misther Billy, 'tis the grand man you make for such a b'y
that you are!"

"Yes, m'm," said Billy.

When Mrs. Dore returned, mother and daughter went to work on the
dinner, while Billy and Maida and Dicky trimmed the tree. When the
door opened, they caught bits of conversation, Granny's brogue
growing thicker and thicker in her excitement, and Mrs. Dore
relapsing, under its influence, into old-country speech. At