is plans,
as Mr. Benedict has drawed. That's the kitchen, and that's the
settin'-room, and that's the cubberd, and that's the bedroom for us, ye
know, and on that other paper is the chambers."

Mike looked at it all earnestly, and with a degree of awe, and then
shook his head.

"Jim," said he, "I don't want to bodder ye, but ye've jist been fooled.
Don't ye see that divil a place 'ave ye got for the pig?"

"Pig!" exclaimed Jim, with contempt. "D'ye s'pose I build a house for a
pig? I ain't no pig, an' she ain't no pig."

"The proof of the puddin' is in the atin', Jim; an' ye don't know the
furrst thing about house-kapin'. Ye can no more kape house widout a pig,
nor ye can row yer boat widout a paddle. I'm an owld house-kaper, Jim,
an' I know; an' a man that don't tend to his pig furrst, is no betther
nor a b'y. Ye might put 'im in Number Tin, but he'd go through it
quicker nor water through a baskit. Don't talk to me about house-kapin'
widout a pig. Ye might give 'im that little shtoop to lie on, an' let
'im run under the house to slape. That wouldn't be bad now, Jim?"

The last suggestion was given in a tender, judicial tone, for Mike saw
that Jim was disappointed, if not disgusted. Jim was looking at his
beautiful stoop, and thinking of the pleasant dreams he had associated
with it. The idea of Mike's connecting the life of a pig with that stoop
was more than he could bear.

"Why, Mike," said he, in an injured tone, "that stoop's the place where
she's agoin' to set."

"Oh! I didn't know, Jim, ye was agoin' to kape hins. Now, ef you're
agoin' to kape hins, ye kin do as ye plase, Jim, in coorse; but ye
musn't forgit the pig, Jim. Be gorry, he ates everything that nobody
ilse kin ate, and then ye kin ate him."

Mike had had his expression of opinion, and shown to his own
satisfaction that his judgments were worth something. Having done this,
he became amiable, sympathetic, and even admiring. Jim was obliged to
tell him the same things a great many times, and to end at last without
the satisfaction of knowing that the Irishman comprehended the precious
plans. He would have been glad to make a confidant of Mike, but the
Irishman's obtuseness and inability to comprehend his tenderer
sentiments, repulsed him, and drove him back upon himself.

Then came up the practical question concerning Mike's ability to draw
the lumber for the new house. Mike thought he could hire a horse for his
keeping, and a sled for a small