r M'Keown from Teressa,
who went once a week to do his washing, and who had told them stories
of how he lived all by himself, with not even a servant to look after
him, and kept all his money tied up in old stockings.

Honeybird's heart was full of joy. Last night she had asked Almighty
God to let her find the money for Tom Kelly, and when she got back into
bed for the last time Almighty God had reminded her that old Mr M'Keown
had stockings full of gold.

After rapping for a long time on the panels of the front door--she
could not reach the knocker--she walked round to the back of the house,
and knocked there. But still there was no answer. Then she tried the
side door. By this time her knuckles were sore, and, as she found she
could turn the handle, she opened the door, and walked in. A long
passage led to the hall, where she stopped, and looked round. There
were doors on every side, but they were all shut. The first door she
opened showed another passage, the second led into a dark room. But
when she opened the third door she saw an old man sitting in an
arm-chair by a fire. Honeybird smiled at him. Then she shut the door
carefully behind her, and went up to him, holding out her hand.

"An' how're ye, Mister M'Keown?" she said.

A bony hand closed over hers for a second, but Mr M'Keown did not
speak. Honeybird pulled up a chair to the fire. "I hurted me han'
rappin' on thon dours," she said, "so I just come in at last."

"May I ask who you are?" said Mr M'Keown in a thin voice.

"I'm Honeybird Darragh," she said.

"Darragh!" he repeated. "Ah, yes."

Honeybird's eyes wandered round the room. Cupboards with glass doors
lined the walls, and the cupboards were full of china. "Can I look at
them things?" she asked.

"Certainly, certainly," said Mr M'Keown.

She got off her chair, and went round the room. In one cupboard there
were china ladies and gentlemen in beautiful clothes. She sighed
before it. "Auch, I wisht I was a lady," she said, coming back to the
fire. "Wouldn't ye like to have long hair, Mister M'Keown?"

"I am afraid it would not afford me much pleasure," he said.

Honeybird looked at him again. He was very thin, and his long back was
bent. "Aren't you feared to live here all by yer lone?" she said.

"Afraid? What should I be afraid of?" he asked.

"I'm feared," she said, "an' there's me an' Fly an' Patsy an' Mick an'
Jane an' Lull an' mother--all them--an' I'm feared to