le girl surely, and that nothing would
make him happy or easy at all but me to be loving him.--Ah, the kind man
that he was, to be sure, the kind, decent man.... And Sorca Reilly to be
trying to get him from me, and Kate Finnegan with her bold eyes looking
after him in the Chapel; and him to be saying that along with me they
were only a pair of old nanny goats.... And then me to be getting
married and going home to my own little house with my man--ah, God be
with me! and him kissing me, and laughing, and frightening me with his
goings-on. Ah, the kind man, with his soft eyes, and his nice voice, and
his jokes and laughing, and him thinking the world and all of me--ay,
indeed.... And the neighbours to be coming in and sitting round the fire
in the night time, putting the world through each other, and talking
about France and Russia and them other queer places, and him holding
up the discourse like a learned man, and them all listening to him and
nodding their heads at each other, and wondering at his education and
all: or, maybe, the neighbours to be singing, or him making me sing the
Coulin, and him to be proud of me... and then him to be killed on me
with a cold on his chest. ... Ah, then, God be with me, a lone,
old creature on a stick, and the sun shining into her eyes and she
thirsty--I wish I had a cup of tea, so I do. I wish to God I had a cup
of tea and a bit of meat... or, maybe, an egg. A nice fresh egg laid
by the speckeldy hen that used to be giving me all the trouble, the
thing!... Sixteen hens I had, and they were the ones for laying,
surely.... It's the queer world, so it is, the queer world--and the
things that do happen for no reason at all.... Ah, God be with me! I
wish there weren't stones in my boots, so I do, and I wish to God I had
a cup of tea and a fresh egg. Ah, glory be, my old legs are getting
tireder every day, so they are. Wisha, one time--when himself was in
it--I could go about the house all day long, cleaning the place, and
feeding the pigs, and the hens and all, and then dance half the night,
so I could: and himself proud of me...."

The old woman turned up a little rambling road and went on still talking
to herself, and the Philosopher watched her go up that road for a long
time. He was very glad she had gone away, and as he tramped forward he
banished her sad image so that in a little time he was happy again. The
sun was still shining, the birds were flying on every side, and the wide
h