m I?'

"'Acushla, why do ye ask sich a question?'

"'Tell 'im I didn't like "fisher ov men" as well as "th' plowman." It's
aisy t' catch thim fish, it's hard t' plow up ignorance an'
superstition--tell 'im that fur me, Jamie?'

"'Aye, I'll tell 'im, dear.'

"'Ye mind what I say'd t' ye on th' road t' Antrim, Jamie? That "love is
Enough"?'

"'Aye.'

"'I tell ye again wi' my dyin' breath.'

"I leaned over an' kiss't 'er an' she smiled at me. Ah, bhoy, if ye
could haave seen that luk on 'er face, it was like a picture ov th'
Virgin, it was that.

"'Tell th' childther there's only wan kind ov poverty, Jamie, an' that's
t' haave no love in th' heart,' says she.

"'Aye, I'll tell thim, Anna,' says I."

He choked up. The next thought that suggested itself for expression
failed of utterance. The deep furrows on his face grew deeper. His lips
trembled. When he could speak, he said:

"My God, bhoy, we had to beg a coffin t' bury 'er in!"

"If I had died at the same time," I said, "they would have had to do the
same for me!"

"How quare!" he said.

I persuaded him to accompany me to one of the largest churches in
Belfast. I was to preach there. That was more than he expected and the
joy of it was overpowering.

I do not remember the text, nor could I give at this distance of time an
outline of the discourse: it was one of those occasions when a man
stands on the borderland of another world. I felt distinctly the
spiritual guidance of an unseen hand. I took her theme and spoke more
for her approval than for the approval of the crowd.

He could not hear, but he listened with his eyes. On the street, after
the service, he became oblivious of time and place and people. He threw
his long lean arms around my neck and kissed me before a crowd. He hoped
Anna was around listening. I told him she was and he said he would like
to be "happed up" beside her, as he had nothing further to hope for in
life.

In fear and trembling he crossed the Channel with me. In fear lest he
should die in Scotland and they would not bury him in Antrim churchyard
beside Anna. We visited my brothers and sisters for several days. Every
day we took long walks along the country roads. These walks were full of
questionings. Big vital questions of life and death and immorality.
They were quaintly put:

"There's a lot of balderdash about another world, bhoy. On yer oath now,
d'ye think there is wan?"

"I do."

"If there is wud He keep me fr