good afterwards."

"And I," said another, "am indebted to the thief o' hell for the loss of
as good a cow as ever filled a piggin."

"Well, sure," observed a third, "Father Mullen is goin' to read her out
next Sunday from the althar. She has been banished from every parish in
the counthry. Indeed, I believe he's goin' to drown the candles against
her, so that, plaise the Lord, she'll have to tramp."

"How does she live and maintain herself?" asked the stranger again.

"Why, sir," replied the man, "she tuck possession of a waste cabin and
a bit o' garden belongin' to it; and Larry Sullivan, that owns it, was
goin' to put her out, when, Lord save us, he and his whole family were
saized with sickness, and then he sent word to her that if she'd take it
off o' them and put it on some one else he'd let her stay."

"And did she do so?"

"She did, sir; every one o' them recovered, and she put it on his
neighbor, poor Harry Commiskey and his family, that used to visit them
every day, and from them it went over the country--and bad luck to her!
Devil a man of us would have had luck or grace in the fair to-day if we
had met her. That's another gift she has--to bring bad luck to any
one that meets her first in the mornin'; for if they're goin' upon
any business it's sure not to thrive with them. She's worse than Mrs.
Lindsay; for Mrs. Lindsay, although she's unlucky to meet, and unlucky
to cattle, too, has no power over any one's life; but they say it has
always been in her family, too."

The equestrians then proceeded at a rather brisk pace until they had got
clear of the peasants, when they pulled up a little.

"That is a strange superstition, sir," said Woodward, musingly.

"It is a very common one in this country, at all events," replied the
other; "and I believe pretty general in others as well as here."

"Do you place any faith in it?" asked the other.

The stranger paused, as if investigating the subject in question, after
which he replied,

"To a certain extent I do; but it is upon this principle, that I believe
the force of imagination on a weak mind constitutes the malady. What is
your own opinion?"

"Why, that it is not a superstition but a fact; a fact, too, which has
been frequently proved; and, what is more, it is known, as the man said,
to be hereditary in families."

"I don't give credence to that," said the stranger.

"Why not, sir?" replied Woodward; "are not the moral qualities
hereditary? are