all things else, a laddher is the wan thing necessary."

"Then you expect me to construct a ladder for your convenience?"

"Oh, not at all, your reverence; but if you gave me a little note up to
the 'Great House,' I'd have it down while you'd be saying
'trapsticks.'"

There were some reasons why it was not at all desirable that he should
ask favors from the "Great House"; but there was no help, and Jem got
the letter.

"Now, this is all you require," said Father Letheby, with determination.

"That is all," said Jem. "Do you think I'd be throubling your reverence
every minit. Long life to your reverence. May you be spared long in the
parish."

About four o'clock that afternoon, Father Letheby was startled by a
sudden commotion in the village. All the dogs were barking, and there
are as many dogs in Kilronan as in Constantinople, and they are just as
vicious; all the women were at the doors, rubbing their hands in their
aprons; and the village loafers were all turned towards where a solemn
procession was moving through the street. First came a gang of
youngsters, singing, "Sure, We're the Boys of Wexford," then a popular
ditty; then came two laborers, dragging along a ladder with as much show
of expended energy as if it were a piece of heavy ordnance; then the
cart on which the ladder was placed; then two more laborers behind,
making desperate efforts to second the arduous endeavors of their mates
in front; then a squadron of bare-legged girls, trying to keep the hair
out of their eyes; and finally, the captain of the expedition, Jem
Deady, leisurely walking along, with his hands in his pockets, a
wheaten straw in his mouth, whilst he looked from cabin to cabin to
receive the admiration of the villagers. It was expressed in various
ways:--

"Wisha, thin, Jem, 't is you're the divil painted."

"Where is he taking it?"

"To the chapel."

"Wisha, thin, I thought the priests had some sinse."

"Whisht, 'uman, he's come around the new cojutor and got a job."

"Th' ould job?"

"Th' ould job!"

"Wisha, God help his poor wife now. 'T is she'll suffer," etc.

The men made desperate efforts as they passed Father Letheby's windows.
He looked on hopelessly, as you look at a charade of which you have not
got the key.

At six o'clock there was a deputation at the door, consisting of four
laborers and the owner of the cart.

"We come for our day's hire, your reverence," said the foreman,
unabashed.

"Oh, indeed,