it goes sore to a mother's heart that
ever I should rear up a child to be a thief. But as Halloran said to
me, "Take the young limb to his Worship," Halloran says, "and maybe a
trifle of correction by a gentleman in his Worship's position will
have some effect," he says. But I hope, sir, you won't visit all the
punishment on Mike, for he didn't do it alone; and though I'm not
sayin' he don't deserve all he gets, 'tisn't fair to make him the
only scapegoat--now is it, sir?'

'My good woman, I--I have no such intention,' stammered the mayor,
glancing at the lad again, and liking his appearance worse than ever.

'I thank your Worship.' Mrs Halloran dropped a quick curtsey.
'And so I made free to tell Halloran, who was in doubt of it.
"Mr Pinsent," I said, "is a just-minded man, an' you may be sure," I
said, "he'll mete out the same to all, last as well as first."'

'Yes, yes!' The mayor took her up impatiently and paused for a
moment, still eyeing the boy. 'Er--by the way, what age is your
son?'

'Rising fifteen, sir; christened fifteen years ago last St Michael's
Day, which is the twenty-ninth of September, though little good it
done him. He takes after his father, sir. All the Hallorans shoot
up tall, like runner beans; and thick in the bone. Or so his father
says. For my part, I've never been to Ireland; but by the looks of
en you'd say not a day less than seventeen. It seems like
blood-money, my takin' five shillin' and handin' the child over--at
his tender age--and me his own mother that nursed en!'

Here Mrs Halloran, whose emotions had been mastering her for some
moments, broke down in a violent fit of sobbing; and this so affected
her offspring that he emitted a noise like the hoot of a dog.
As he started it without warning, so abruptly he ended it, and looked
around with an impassive face.

It was uncanny. It shook the mayor's nerve. 'My dear Mrs Halloran,
if you will let me have a word or two with your son--'

'Oh, I know!' she wailed. 'That's how you put it. But you give me
over the money, sir, and let me go quick, before I weaken on it.
You never had a child of your own, Mr Pinsent--and more's the pity
for the child--but with one of your own you'd know what it feels
like!'

Mr Pinsent felt in his trouser-pocket, drew forth two half-crowns,
and pressed them into Mrs Halloran's dirty palm. With a sob and a
blessing she escaped. He heard her run sobbing down the passage to
the front door