er, and Heaven only knows where
in winter.)

"Th' Dummy," Willie continued, "came over t' th' pile an' acted purty
gay, but says I, 'Dummy, if there's anythin' I kin give ye I'll give it,
but there's nothin' ye kin give me!'

"'Ye break stones fur a livin',' says she.

"'Aye,' says I.

"'What wud ye do if ye wor a lone wuman an' cudn't get nothin' at all t'
do?'

"'I dunno,' says I.

"'I don't want to argufy or palaver wi' a dacent maan,' says she, 'but
I'm terrible hungry.'

"'Luk here,' says I, 'I've got a dozen pirtas I'm goin' t' roast fur m'
dinner. I'll roast thim down there be that gate, an' I'll lave ye six
an' a dhrink ov butthermilk. Whin ye see m' lave th' gate ye'll know yer
dinner's ready.'

"'God save ye,' says she, 'may yer meal barrel niver run empty an' may
yer bread foriver be roughcasted wi' butther!'

"I begun t' swither whin she left. Says I, 'Withero, is yer specs clane?
Kin ye see th' Son ov Maan in th' Dummy?' 'Begorra, I dunno,' says I t'
m'self. I scratched m' head an' swithered till I thought m' brains wud
turn t' stone.

"Says I t' m'self at last, 'Aye, 'deed there must be th' spark there
what Anna talks about!' Jist then I heard yer mother's voice as plain as
I hear m' own now at this minute--an' what d'ye think Anna says?"

"I don't know, Willie."

"'So ye haave th' Son ov Maan t' dinner th' day?' 'Aye,' says I.

"'An' givin' 'im yer lavins!'

"It was like a piece ov stone cuttin' the ball ov m' eye. It cut deep!

"I ran down th' road an' says I t' th' Dummy, 'I'll tie a rag on a stick
an' whin ye see m' wavin' it come an' take yer dinner an' I'll take
what's left!'

"I didn't wait fur no answer, but went and did what I shud.

"That summer whin she was hungry she hung an oul rag on th' thorn hedge
down be the wee plantain where she camped, and I answered be a rag on a
stick that she cud share mine and take hers first. One day I towld 'er
yer mother's story about th' Son ov Maan. It was th' only time I ever
talked wi' 'er. That winther she died in th' poorhouse and before she
died she sint me this." He pulled out of an inside pocket a piece of
paper yellow with age and so scuffed with handling that the scrawl was
scarcely legible:

_M Withero_
Stone breaker
Dublin Road
Antrim

"I seen Him in the ward last night and I'm content to go now. God save
you kindly.
THE DUMMY."

Withero having unburdened,