ion was caught by sight of a modest frame building,
standing near the middle of the village with the sign in small letters
"Post Office" over the front porch, which was crowded with samples of
what were for sale at the store.

Entering the open door, he asked in his most suave manner if there was a
letter for "Michael Murphy, lately from Tipperary." The thin old lady in
spectacles behind the counter, at the front, pulled the half dozen
missives from the pigeon hole over which the letter "M" showed and slowly
inspected each. She gently shook her head:

"It doesn't seem to have arrived; probably it will come in the next
mail."

Mike's genial face became the picture of disappointment.

"That's mighty qu'ar. The Duke promised he would write me two waaks ago
from his castle and return the five pounds I loaned him. Ye can't thrust
the nobility."

"I am sorry," said the sympathetic postmistress, "but I don't see how I
can help you. Have patience and all will come right."

"Don't think it's yersilf I'm blaming, though onraisoning folks are
inclined that way. The matter of a little money doesn't consarn me, but
it's the aboose of me confidence."

Just then a man came in to inquire for a letter, and the sweet looking
old lady was obliged to withdraw her attention from the freckled face
before her.

During this brief interview a girl not yet out of short dresses stood
behind the counter, measuring out some calico for a woman in a scoop
shovel-bonnet. The girl's face was as mirthful as Mike's, and her black
eyes twinkled with mischief. She heard all that was said, and read the
youth like a book. He looked more at her than at her mother, and could
not help being pleased with the lively young lady. Never at loss for an
excuse in such circumstances, he waited at the front of the store,
sighing as if greatly depressed, until the woman customer paid her bill,
accepted the roll and walked out. Then Mike, blushing so far as it was
possible to do so, moved respectfully toward the smiling attraction.

"I lost me wheelbarrer in coming up from me launch; have ye anything of
the kind ye would be willing to sell to a poor orphan?"

"Will one be all you want?" asked the miss. "We can furnish you with a
dozen as well as a single barrow. How much would you like to pay?"

Mike was caught. He had taken a comprehensive survey of the display
outside the store before entering, and was sure that only the simplest
agricultural implements wer