Countryman, but it's
a beauty. Musha, a _Ora Gal_, maybe you'll dispose of it, for, in troth,
if ever a face livin' could afford to part with its best ornament,
your's is that one."

Mave smiled and blushed at the compliment, and the pedlar eyed her
apparently with a mixed feeling of admiration and compassion.

"No," she replied, "I haven't any desire to part with it."

"You had the sickness, maybe?"

"Thanks be to the mercy of God," she fervently exclaimed, "no one in
this family has had it yet."

"Well, achora," he continued, "if you take my advice you'll dispose of
it, in regard that if the sickness--which may God prevent--should come,
it will be well for you to have it off you. If you sell it, I'll give
you either money or value for it; for indeed, an' truth it flogs all
I've seen this many a day."

"They say," observed her mother, "that it's not lucky to sell one's
hair, and whether it's true or not I don't know; but I'm tould for a
sartinty, that there's not a girl that ever sould it but was sure to
catch the sickness."

"I know that there's truth in that," said Jerry himself. "There's Sally
Hacket, and Mary Geoghegan, and Katy Dowdall, all sould it, and not
one of them escaped the sickness. And, moreover, didn't I hear Misther
Cooper, the bleedin' doctor, say, myself, in the market, on Sathurday,
that the people couldn't do a worse thing than cut their hair close, as
it lets the sickness in by the head, and makes it tin times as hard upon
them, when it comes."

"Well, well, there's no arguin' wid you," said the pedlar, "all I say
is, that you ought to part wid it, acushla--by all means you ought."

"Never mind him, Mave darlin'," said her mother, whose motive in saying
so was altogether dictated by affectionate apprehensions for her health.

"No," replied her daughter, "it is not my intention, mother, to part
with what God has given me. I have no notion of it."

At this stage of the dialogue, her eldest brother, who had been getting
a horse shod at the next forge, entered the house, and threw himself
carelessly on a chair. His appearance occasioned a alight pause in the
conversation.

"Well, Denny," said the father, "what's the news?"

"Bad news with the Daltons," replied the boy.

"With the Daltons!" exclaimed Mave, trembling, and getting paler, if
possible, than she was; "for God's mercy, Dennis, what has happened
amongst them?"

"I met Mrs. Dalton a while ago," he replied, "and she tould me