but before you go farther, lay down your burden, an' let us chat
awhile."

"Indeed," replied Biddy, "it's little we expected ever to see your
father's son goin' to earn his bread undher another man's roof."

"Pooh! Biddy! there's greater wondhers in the world than that, woman
alive! But tell me--pooh--ay, is there a thousand quarer things--but I
say, Biddy, how do you like to--live wid this family?"

"Why, troth indeed, only for the withered ould leprechaun himself, divil
a dacenter people ever broke bread."

"Yet, isn't it a wondher that the ould fellow is what he is, an' he so
full o' money?"

"Troth, there's one thing myself wondhers at more than that."

"What, Biddy? let us hear it."

"Why, that you could be mane an' shabby! enough to come as a sarvint to
ate the bread of the man that ruined yees!"

"Biddy," replied Flanagan, "I'm glad! you've said it; but do you think
that I have so bad a heart as too keep revinge in against an inimy? How
could I go to my knees at night, if I--no, Biddy, we must be Christians.
Well! let us drop that; so you tell me this mother an' son are kind to
you."

"As good-hearted a pair as ever lived."

"Connor, of course, can't but be very kind to so good-looking a girl as
you are, Biddy," said Bartle, with a knowing smile.

"Very kind! good-looking! ay, indeed, I'm sure o' that, Bartle; behave!
an' don't be gettin' an wid any o' your palavers. What 'ud make Connor
be kind to the likes of me, that way?"

"I don't see why you oughtn't an' mightn't--you're as good as him, if it
goes to that."

"Oh, yis, indeed!"

"Why, you know you'r handsome."

"Handsome," replied the vain girl, tightening her apron-strings, and
assuming a sly, coquettish look; "Bartle, go 'an mind your business, and
let me bring home my pitchers; it's time the breakwist was down. Sich
nonsense!"

"Very well, you're not, thin; you've a bad leg, a bad figure, an' a bad
face, an' it would be a terrible thing all out for Connor O'Donovan to
fall in consate wid you."

"Well, about Connor I could tell you something;--me! tut! go to
the sarra;--faix, you don't know them that Connor's afther, nor the
collogin' they all had about it no longer ago than last night itself.
I suppose they thought I was asleep, but it was like the hares, wid my
eyes open."

"An' it's a pity, Biddy, ever the same two eyes should be shut. Begad,
myself is beginning to feel quare somehow, when I look at them."

A glance of pretende