s tired as two. Ye'd never dream, to
hear me talking, that I'd never had much more than a crooked sixpence
to my name since I was born; and here I am, with that gone and not a
slither to buy me bed or board for the night."

The tinker looked down at her with an altogether strange expression,
very different from anything Patsy had seen on his face all day. Had
she chanced to catch it before it flickered out, it might have
puzzled even her O'Connell wits to fathom the meaning of it. For it
was as if the two had unexpectedly changed places, and the tender
pity and protectiveness that had belonged to her had suddenly become
his.

"Never mind, lass; there's board in the kit for to-night--what the
farm wife put up; and there's this left, and I'll--I'll--" He did not
finish; instead he dropped a few coins in her hand, the change from
the half-dollar. Then he set about sweeping the dust from the step
with his battered cap and spreading their meager meal before her.

They ate in silence, so deep in the business of dulling their
appetites that they never noticed a small figure crossing the street
with two goblets and a pitcher hugged tight in his arms. They never
looked up until the things were set down beside them and a voice
announced at their elbow, "Mother said I could bring it; it's better
'n eatin' dry."

It was Joseph; and the pitcher held milk, still foamy from a late
milking. He looked at Patsy a moment longingly, as if there was more
he wanted to ask; but, overcome with a sudden bashful confusion, he
took to his heels and disappeared around the corner of the
meeting-house before they had time even to give thanks.

The tinker poured the goblets full, handed Patsy's to her with
another grave bow, and, touching his to hers, said, soberly, "Here's
to a friendly lass--the first I ever knew, I reckon."

For an instant she watched him, puzzled and amused; then she raised
her glass slowly in reply. "And here's to tinkers--the world over!"

When everything but the crumbs were eaten she left him to scatter
these and return Joseph's pitcher while she went to get "the loan of
a light from the shopkeeper, and hunt up the news."

* * * * *

The store was store, post-office, and general news center combined.
The news was at that very moment in process of circulation among the
"boys"--a shirt-sleeved quorum from the patriarchs of the town
circling the molasses-keg--the storekeeper himself toppe