e door was
shut, so I knocked with the pitchfork. Sez she: 'Who's there?' Sez I:
'Come out a' that, Mrs M'Rea.' Sez she: 'What would I be doin' that
for?' 'Because,' sez I, 'it's the divil himself come to see ye, Mrs
M'Rea.'"

"But ye wern't to be the divil," Jane interrupted. "Ye were only one
of his wee divils."

"I clean forgot," said Fly; "'deed, indeed, I clean forgot. An' oh,
Jane, I wisht ye'd seen her. She opened the dour, and when she seen me
she give a yell, an' went down on her knees, an' began prayin' like
mad. I danced round, an' poked her with the pitchfork, an', sez I:
'I'll larn ye to curse the Pope, Mrs M'Rea, ye black-mouthed ould
Protestant,'--that's what Teressa said, wasn't it, Patsy? 'Look here,
my girl,' sez I, 'I'm comin' for ye at twelve the night, so see an' be
ready.' An' with that she give another big yell, an' run in an' shut
the dour, an' I could hear her cryin'. An' oh, Jane, Jane, I've scared
the very sowl out of her." And Fly began to cry too.

"Ye've just spoilt it all, Fly," said Jane. "The divil wasn't to be
goin' to come for her on'y if she wouldn't give over drinkin'."

Fly shivered, and sobbed.

"Yes, ye jackass; an' how can we take her away at twelve?" said Mick.

"An' if we don't she won't believe it was the divil," said Patsy.

But Fly only shivered, and sobbed the more.

"Look here," said Jane, "she'll be sick if we don't dry her." So they
all went upstairs, and Fly was washed, and dressed in her own clothes,
and sent down to sit by the kitchen fire, having first sworn to cut her
throat if she let out one word to Lull. Then the four went back to the
schoolroom to think the matter over.

"We can't have Mrs M'Rea goin' round sayin' the divil tould her a lie,"
said Jane.

"An' we can't have her sittin' there all night scared to death," said
Mick.

"We'll have to send her another message," said Jane.

"Another divil?" said Patsy.

"No," said Jane; "it must be some person from heaven this time to tell
her that if she'll quit drinkin' the divil won't be let come!"

They agreed that this was the only plan; but who was it to be? "I'll
be the Blessed Virgin," said Jane; "there's mother's blue muslin dress
in the nursery cupboard, an' I can have the wax flowers out of the
glass shade in my hair."

"But Mrs M'Rea's a Protestant," Mick objected, "an' what would she care
for the Blessed Virgin?"

"Let's send a ghost of Mister M'Rea," said Patsy. But her