nd I hope he'll waken! I would
like to see him kiss his father again--but I'm afeared somehow I never
will. If he awakens I'll give him the cock any how--bad luck to me but I
will."

"Hush," said the priest, whilst a tear started to his eye at this most
artless exhibition of affection for the child--"don't swear, Raymond.
The sweet boy will never waken in this world; but he will in heaven,
where he is awake already, and where you will see him again."

"I would rather see him here," replied the other; "and I wish I had
gev him the cock first, when he came out of the room; but what'd she do
without his white head before her?--what'll she do, and not have that
to look at? But stop," said Raymond--"wait a minute, and we'll soon see
whether he'll waken or not."

He then went into the little room where the poor child had lain during
his illness, and immediately returned, bearing the cock in his hands--

"Wait," said he; "I was bringing the bird to poor little Brian, for I
promised it to him. We'll see--we'll see."

As he uttered the words, he placed the bird down on the child's bosom
and called out--

"Brian, here's your present for you, that I promised you--won't you
waken?--spake open your blue eyes, achora machree, and look at the fine
bird I brought you."

It was a most affecting little incident; for the contrast between the
fiery scintillations flashed from the eye of the noble bird, the utter
unbroken stillness of death, as character was so mournfully impressed
upon the fair sweet features of innocence, was indeed such as few
parental hearts could withstand. Raymond looked awhile as if even he had
been struck by it.

"Ah no," said he, going down to his mother; "no, Mary, he will never
waken--and then what will you do for Brian's white head?"

"Whisht!" she replied; "whisht, and I'll sing you a song. I have nothing
else to do now but to sing and be happy--

"'Farewell father, farewell mother,
Farewell friends, and farewell foes!
I now will go and court some other,
For love it was the causer of all my woes."

"An' so it was," she said; "for I did love some one, I think; but who
they were, or where they are gone to, I cannot tell. Is your name,"
she added, her eye blazing as she spoke to Raymond, "is your, name
M'Clutchy?"

"Say it is," suggested one of the neighbors; "may be it may startle the
poor thing into her senses."

"That's not very likely," replied another, "for it has startle