er very near to-day. Only, if I
could just talk with her and ask her things."

"Sure ye can, me colleen. I mind it's no far to the land where she's
gone. But about the money. See here; how got I this?"

And Cleena whipped out a handkerchief from her jacket pocket and
unfolded it with utmost care. In this were a number of silver pieces,
from half-dollars to dimes, and added together made the "smart decent
sum" of five dollars and fifteen cents.

"Why, Cleena! Where? I thought all ours was spent as soon as earned."

"Where? An' I to be mendin' a few clothes for me neighbors. Even that
man John fetches me a blouse now an' again, to put in a fresh pair o'
sleeves or set on a button that's missin'. Sure, ye didn't think Cleena
was one would be leavin' her childer bring in all the wage. Only--" and
the good creature's fine face clouded dismally.

Amy's arms were around the other's neck, and her soft cheek pressed
against the shoulder that had borne so many burdens for her and hers.

"Only what, you darling Scrubbub?"

"Only I was mindin' to buy a few trinkets for you an' Master Hal. 'Tis
Christmas comes but once a year, an' sure me heart should give good
cheer--"

"Cleena, Cleena! A poet! What next?"

"Arrah musha, no! Not one o' them sort. But it's in the air, belike.
Christmastide do set the blood running hitherty-which. So they say in
old Ireland. It's this way, me darling. Gifts for you an' Hal--or the
trip to town for the master. Which, says you? For here's the silver will
pay either one, an' it's you an' him shall decide."

"Then it's decided already. At least, I'm sure Hallam will so agree when
he comes in. You know he's stopped at Mr. Metcalf's to see some books on
designing. Hallam thinks that either he might learn to do it or that
perhaps even father might give some odd moments to it, though I don't
know as he would hardly dare propose it. The idea was Mr. Metcalf's, and
he hasn't much 'sentiment' about him. He said that if there was any way
in which father could make a living, he would be happier if so employed.
It sounded dreadful to me at first, and then it seemed just sensible."

"That last it was, and so I b'lieve the master'll say himself. But
child, child, you do be gettin' too sober notions into your bonny head.
Oh, for that Balaam the spalpeen stole! But since ye can't ride, why
then it's aye ye must walk. Either way, get into the open. There's not
many such a day 'twixt now and Easter. Away wit