said Connor, "what news?"

"Let the boy get his supper first," said Honor; "Bartle, you must be
starved wid hunger."

"Faith, I'm middlin' well, I thank you, that same way," replied Bartle;
"divil a one o' me but's as ripe for my supper as a July cherry; an' wid
the blessin' o' Heaven upon my endayvors I'll soon show you what good
execution is."

A deep groan from Fardorougha gave back a fearful echo to the truth of
this formidable annunciation.

"Aren't you well, Fardorougha?" asked Bartle.

"Throth I'm not, Bartle; never was more uncomfortable in my life."

Flanagan immediately commenced his supper, which consisted of flummery
and new milk--a luxury among the lower ranks which might create envy in
an epicure. As he advanced in the work of destruction, the gray eye
of Fardorougha, which followed every spoonful that entered his mouth,
scintillated like that of a cat when rubbed down the back, though from
a directly opposite feeling. He turned and twisted on the chair, and
looked from his wife to his son, then turned up his eyes, and appeared
to feel as if a dagger entered his heart with every additional dig of
Bartle's spoon into the flummery. The son and wife smiled at each other;
for they could enjoy those petty sufferings of Fardorougha with a great
deal of good-humor.

"Bartle," said Connor, "what's the news?"

"Divil a word worth telling; at laste that I can hear."

"I mane from Bodagh Buie's."

Bartle stared at him; "Bodagh Buie's!--what do I know about Bodagh Buie?
are you ravin'?"

"Bartle," said Connor, smiling, "my father and mother knows all about
it--an' about your going to Una with the letter. I have no secrets from
them."

"Hoot toot! That's a horse of another color; but you wouldn't have me,
widout knowin' as much, to go to betray trust. In the mane time, I may
as well finish my supper before I begin to tell you what-som-ever I
happen to know about it."

Another deep groan from Fardorougha followed the last observation.

At length the work of demolition ceased, and after Honor had put past
the empty dish, Bartle, having wiped his mouth, and uttered a hiccup or
two, thus commenced to dole out his intelligence:--

"Whin I wint to the Bodagh's," said Bartle, "it was wid great
schamin' an' throuble I got a sight of Miss Una at all, in regard of
--(hiccup)--in regard of her not knowin' that there was any sich message
for her--(hiccup). But happenin' to know Sally Laffan, I made bould to
go