Chapter Eight.

Chapter Eight.“Diddy.”Larry and Eileen took hold of hands, and began running as fast as they could. They jumped from one tuft of grass to another. Dennis came splashing through the puddles after them. He had almost caught them, when all of a sudden, Larry stopped and listened.“What’s that now?” he said. Eileen and Dennis listened too. They heard a faint squealing sound.They looked all around. There was nothing in sight but the brown bog, and the stones, and the blue hills far beyond. They were a little bit scared.“Do you suppose it might be a Leprechaun?” Eileen whispered.“’Tis a tapping noise they make; not a crying noise at all,” Larry answered.“Maybe it’s a Banshee,” Dennis said. “They do be crying about sometimes before somebody is going to die.”“’Tis no Banshee whatever,” Eileen declared. “They only cry at night.”They heard the squealing sound again.“’Tis right over there,” cried Eileen, pointing to a black hole in the bog where turf had been cut out. “Indeed, and it might be a beautiful baby like Deirdre herself! Let’s go and see.”They crept up to the bog-hole, and peeped over the edge. The hole was quite deep and down in the bottom of it was a little pig! Dennis rolled over on the ground beside the bog-hole and screamed with laughter.“Sure, ’tis the beautiful child entirely!” he said.“’Tis the little pig the Tinkers had!” cried Eileen.“It broke the rope and ran away with itself,” shouted Larry.“However will we get it out?” said Eileen. “The hole is too deep entirely!”“The poor little thing is nearly destroyed with hunger,” Larry said. “I’ll go down in the hole and lift her out.”“However will you get out yourself, then, Larry darling?” cried Eileen.“The two of you can give me your hands,” said Larry, “and I’ll be up in no time.”Then Larry jumped down into the hole. He caught the little pig in his arms. The little pig squealed harder than ever and tried to get away, but Larry held it up as high as he could.Eileen and Dennis reached down and each got hold of one of the pig’s front feet. “Now then for you!” cried Larry.He gave the pig a great shove. He shoved so hard that Eileen and Dennis both fell over backwards into a puddle! But they held tight to the pig, and there the three of them were together, rolling in the bog with the pig on top of them!“Hold her, hold her!” shrieked Larry. By standing on tiptoe his nose was just above the edge of the bog-hole, so he could see them.“I’ve got her,” Eileen cried. “Run back for the bit of rope the Tinkers left, Dennis, and tie her, hard and fast!”Dennis ran for the rope while Eileen sat on the ground and held the little pig in her arms. The little pig squealed and kicked and tried every minute to get away. She kicked even after her hind legs were tied together. But Eileen held on!“You’ll have to get Larry out alone, Dennis, while I never let go of this pig,”cried Eileen, breathlessly. “She’s that wild, she’ll be running away with herself on her two front legs, alone.”Dennis reached down, and took both of Larry’s hands and pulled and pulled until he got him out.Larry was covered with mud from the bog-hole, and Eileen and Dennis were wet and muddy from falling into the puddle.But they had the pig!“Sure, she is a beautiful little pig, and we’ll call her Deirdre, because we found her in the bog just in the same way as Conchubar himself,” said Larry.“Indeed, Deirdre was too beautifulaltogether to be naming a pig after her,” Eileen said.“Isn’t she a beautiful little pig, then?” Larry answered.“Well, maybe we might be calling her ‘Diddy,’ for short, and no offence to herself at all,” Eileen agreed.The poor little pig was so tired out with struggling, and so hungry, that she was fairly quiet while Dennis carried her on his shoulder to the road. Eileen walked behind Dennis and fed her with green leaves.She was so quiet that Larry said: “We’ll tie the rope to one of Diddy’s hind legs, and she’ll run home herself in front of us.”So when they reached the road he and Dennis tied the rope securely to Diddy’s left hind leg and set her down.They found Colleen asleep, standing up.Larry woke her. Then he said, “Eileen, come now, you take the jug, and get on Colleen’s back. Dennis can lead her, and I’ll drive the pig myself.”But Diddy was feeling better after her rest. She made up her mind she didn’t like the plan. She squealed and tried to get away. Once she turned quickly and ran between Larry’s legs and tripped him up. But she was a tired little pig, and so it was not long before, somehow, they got her back to where Mr McQueen was working.He hadn’t heard them coming, though what with the pig squealing, and the children all speaking at once, they made noise enough. But Mr McQueen had his head down digging, and he was in a bog-hole besides, so when they came up right beside him, with the pig, he almost fell over with astonishment.He stopped his work and leaned on his clete, while they told him all about the pig, and how they found it, and got it out of the hole, and how the Tinkers must have lost it. And when they were all done, he only said, “The Saints preserve us! We’ll take it home to Herself and let her cosset it up a bit!”So the children hurried off to take the pig to their Mother without even stopping to eat their bit of lunch. Mr McQueen came, too.When they got home, they found Mrs McQueen leaning on the farmyard fence. When she saw them coming with the pig, she ran out to meet them.“Wherever did you find the fine little pig?” she cried. Then she threw up her hands. “Look at the mud on you!” she said.Then the Twins and Dennis told the story all over again, and Mrs McQueen took the little pig in her apron. “The poor little thing!” she said. “Its heart is beating that hard, you’d think its ribs would burst themselves. I’ll get it some milk right away this minute when once you’ve looked in the yard.”Mr McQueen and Dennis and the Twins went to the fence. There in the yard were the two geese with the black feathers in their wings! “Faith, and the luck is all with us this day,” said Mr McQueen. “However did you get them back at all?”“’Twas this way, if you’ll believe me,” said Mrs McQueen. She scratched the little pig’s back with one hand as she talked. “I was just after churning my butter when what should I see looking in the door but that thief of a Tinker with the beard like a rick of hay! Thinks I to myself, sure, my butter will be bewitched and never come at all with the bad luck of a stranger, and he a Tinker, coming in the house!“But he comes in and gives one plunge to the dasher for luck and to break the spell, and says he, very civil, ‘Would you be wanting to buy any fine geese to-day?’“My heart was going thumpity-thump, but I says to him, ‘I might look at them, maybe,’ and with that I go to the door, for the sake of getting him out of it, and if there weren’t our own two geese, with the legs of them tied together!”“The impudence of that!” cried Mr McQueen. “Get along with your tale, woman! Surely you never paid the old thief for your own two geese!”“Trust me!” replied Mrs McQueen. “I’m coming around to the point of my tale gradual, like an old goat grazing around its tethering stump! I says to him, ‘They look well enough, but I’m wishful to see them standing up on their own two legs. That one looks as if it might be a bit lame, and the cord so tight on it! And meanwhile, will you be having a bit of a drink on this hot day?’“Then I gave him a sup of milk, in a mug, and with that he thanks me kindly, loosens the cord, and sets the geese up on their legs for me to see. In a minute of time I stood between him and the geese, and ‘Shoo!’ says I to them, and to him I says, ‘Get along with you before I call the man working behind the house to put an end to your thieving entirely!’“And upon that he went in great haste,taking the mug along with him, but it was cracked anyway!”“Woman, woman, but you’ve the clever tongue in your head,” said Mr McQueen with admiration.“’Tis mighty lucky we have,” said Mrs McQueen, “for it’s little else women have in this world to help themselves with!”Then she put the little pig down in the empty pig-pen in the farmyard and went to fetch it some milk.

Larry and Eileen took hold of hands, and began running as fast as they could. They jumped from one tuft of grass to another. Dennis came splashing through the puddles after them. He had almost caught them, when all of a sudden, Larry stopped and listened.

“What’s that now?” he said. Eileen and Dennis listened too. They heard a faint squealing sound.

They looked all around. There was nothing in sight but the brown bog, and the stones, and the blue hills far beyond. They were a little bit scared.

“Do you suppose it might be a Leprechaun?” Eileen whispered.

“’Tis a tapping noise they make; not a crying noise at all,” Larry answered.

“Maybe it’s a Banshee,” Dennis said. “They do be crying about sometimes before somebody is going to die.”

“’Tis no Banshee whatever,” Eileen declared. “They only cry at night.”

They heard the squealing sound again.

“’Tis right over there,” cried Eileen, pointing to a black hole in the bog where turf had been cut out. “Indeed, and it might be a beautiful baby like Deirdre herself! Let’s go and see.”

They crept up to the bog-hole, and peeped over the edge. The hole was quite deep and down in the bottom of it was a little pig! Dennis rolled over on the ground beside the bog-hole and screamed with laughter.

“Sure, ’tis the beautiful child entirely!” he said.

“’Tis the little pig the Tinkers had!” cried Eileen.

“It broke the rope and ran away with itself,” shouted Larry.

“However will we get it out?” said Eileen. “The hole is too deep entirely!”

“The poor little thing is nearly destroyed with hunger,” Larry said. “I’ll go down in the hole and lift her out.”

“However will you get out yourself, then, Larry darling?” cried Eileen.

“The two of you can give me your hands,” said Larry, “and I’ll be up in no time.”

Then Larry jumped down into the hole. He caught the little pig in his arms. The little pig squealed harder than ever and tried to get away, but Larry held it up as high as he could.

Eileen and Dennis reached down and each got hold of one of the pig’s front feet. “Now then for you!” cried Larry.

He gave the pig a great shove. He shoved so hard that Eileen and Dennis both fell over backwards into a puddle! But they held tight to the pig, and there the three of them were together, rolling in the bog with the pig on top of them!

“Hold her, hold her!” shrieked Larry. By standing on tiptoe his nose was just above the edge of the bog-hole, so he could see them.

“I’ve got her,” Eileen cried. “Run back for the bit of rope the Tinkers left, Dennis, and tie her, hard and fast!”

Dennis ran for the rope while Eileen sat on the ground and held the little pig in her arms. The little pig squealed and kicked and tried every minute to get away. She kicked even after her hind legs were tied together. But Eileen held on!

“You’ll have to get Larry out alone, Dennis, while I never let go of this pig,”cried Eileen, breathlessly. “She’s that wild, she’ll be running away with herself on her two front legs, alone.”

Dennis reached down, and took both of Larry’s hands and pulled and pulled until he got him out.

Larry was covered with mud from the bog-hole, and Eileen and Dennis were wet and muddy from falling into the puddle.

But they had the pig!

“Sure, she is a beautiful little pig, and we’ll call her Deirdre, because we found her in the bog just in the same way as Conchubar himself,” said Larry.

“Indeed, Deirdre was too beautifulaltogether to be naming a pig after her,” Eileen said.

“Isn’t she a beautiful little pig, then?” Larry answered.

“Well, maybe we might be calling her ‘Diddy,’ for short, and no offence to herself at all,” Eileen agreed.

The poor little pig was so tired out with struggling, and so hungry, that she was fairly quiet while Dennis carried her on his shoulder to the road. Eileen walked behind Dennis and fed her with green leaves.

She was so quiet that Larry said: “We’ll tie the rope to one of Diddy’s hind legs, and she’ll run home herself in front of us.”

So when they reached the road he and Dennis tied the rope securely to Diddy’s left hind leg and set her down.

They found Colleen asleep, standing up.

Larry woke her. Then he said, “Eileen, come now, you take the jug, and get on Colleen’s back. Dennis can lead her, and I’ll drive the pig myself.”

But Diddy was feeling better after her rest. She made up her mind she didn’t like the plan. She squealed and tried to get away. Once she turned quickly and ran between Larry’s legs and tripped him up. But she was a tired little pig, and so it was not long before, somehow, they got her back to where Mr McQueen was working.

He hadn’t heard them coming, though what with the pig squealing, and the children all speaking at once, they made noise enough. But Mr McQueen had his head down digging, and he was in a bog-hole besides, so when they came up right beside him, with the pig, he almost fell over with astonishment.

He stopped his work and leaned on his clete, while they told him all about the pig, and how they found it, and got it out of the hole, and how the Tinkers must have lost it. And when they were all done, he only said, “The Saints preserve us! We’ll take it home to Herself and let her cosset it up a bit!”

So the children hurried off to take the pig to their Mother without even stopping to eat their bit of lunch. Mr McQueen came, too.

When they got home, they found Mrs McQueen leaning on the farmyard fence. When she saw them coming with the pig, she ran out to meet them.

“Wherever did you find the fine little pig?” she cried. Then she threw up her hands. “Look at the mud on you!” she said.

Then the Twins and Dennis told the story all over again, and Mrs McQueen took the little pig in her apron. “The poor little thing!” she said. “Its heart is beating that hard, you’d think its ribs would burst themselves. I’ll get it some milk right away this minute when once you’ve looked in the yard.”

Mr McQueen and Dennis and the Twins went to the fence. There in the yard were the two geese with the black feathers in their wings! “Faith, and the luck is all with us this day,” said Mr McQueen. “However did you get them back at all?”

“’Twas this way, if you’ll believe me,” said Mrs McQueen. She scratched the little pig’s back with one hand as she talked. “I was just after churning my butter when what should I see looking in the door but that thief of a Tinker with the beard like a rick of hay! Thinks I to myself, sure, my butter will be bewitched and never come at all with the bad luck of a stranger, and he a Tinker, coming in the house!

“But he comes in and gives one plunge to the dasher for luck and to break the spell, and says he, very civil, ‘Would you be wanting to buy any fine geese to-day?’

“My heart was going thumpity-thump, but I says to him, ‘I might look at them, maybe,’ and with that I go to the door, for the sake of getting him out of it, and if there weren’t our own two geese, with the legs of them tied together!”

“The impudence of that!” cried Mr McQueen. “Get along with your tale, woman! Surely you never paid the old thief for your own two geese!”

“Trust me!” replied Mrs McQueen. “I’m coming around to the point of my tale gradual, like an old goat grazing around its tethering stump! I says to him, ‘They look well enough, but I’m wishful to see them standing up on their own two legs. That one looks as if it might be a bit lame, and the cord so tight on it! And meanwhile, will you be having a bit of a drink on this hot day?’

“Then I gave him a sup of milk, in a mug, and with that he thanks me kindly, loosens the cord, and sets the geese up on their legs for me to see. In a minute of time I stood between him and the geese, and ‘Shoo!’ says I to them, and to him I says, ‘Get along with you before I call the man working behind the house to put an end to your thieving entirely!’

“And upon that he went in great haste,taking the mug along with him, but it was cracked anyway!”

“Woman, woman, but you’ve the clever tongue in your head,” said Mr McQueen with admiration.

“’Tis mighty lucky we have,” said Mrs McQueen, “for it’s little else women have in this world to help themselves with!”

Then she put the little pig down in the empty pig-pen in the farmyard and went to fetch it some milk.

Chapter Nine.The Secret.Mr McQueen was a good farmer, but at the time he lived in Ireland, farmers could not own their farms.The land was all owned by rich landlords, who did not do any work themselves. These landlords very often lived away in England or France, and did not know much about how the poor people lived at home, or how hard they had to work to get the money for the rent of their farms.Sometimes, when they did know, they didn’t care. What they wanted was all the money they could get, so they could live in fine houses and wear beautiful clothes, and go where they pleased, without doing any work.When the landlords were away, they had agents to collect the rents for them.The business of these agents was to get all the rent money they could, and they made life very hard for the farmers.Sometimes when the farmers couldn’t pay all the rent, the agent would turn them out of their houses. This was called “evicting” them. The farm that Mr McQueen lived on, as well as the village and all the country roundabout, was owned by the Earl of Elsmore, who lived most of the year in great style in England. The agent who collected rents was Mr Conroy. Nobody liked Mr Conroy very much, but everybody was afraid of him, because he could do so much to injure them.So one morning when Mr McQueen came back very early from his potato-field, he was not glad to see Mr Conroy’s horse standing near his door, and Mr Conroy himself, leaning on the farmyard fence, looking at the fowls.“How are you, McQueen?” said Mr Conroy, when Mr McQueen came up.“Well enough, Mr Conroy,” said Mr McQueen.“And you’re doing well with the farm, too, it seems,” said Mr Conroy. “Those are good-looking fowls you have, and the pig is fine and fat. How many cows have you, now?”“Two, and a heifer,” said Mr McQueen.“You drained that field over by the bog this year, didn’t you, and have it planted to turnips?” went on Mr Conroy. “I’m glad to see you so prosperous, McQueen. Of course, now, the farm is worth more than it was when you first took it, and so you’ll not be surprised that I’m raising the rent on you.”“If the farm is worth more, ’tis my work that has made it so,” said Mr McQueen, “and I shouldn’t be punished for that. The house is none too good at all, and the place is not worth more. Last year was the drought and all manner of bad luck, and next year may be no better. Truly, Mr Conroy, if you press me, I don’t know how I can scrape more together than I’m paying now.”“Well, then,” said Mr Conroy. “You must just find a way, for this is one of the best farms about here, and you should pay as much as any one.”“You can’t get money by shaking a man with empty pockets,” said Mr McQueen.But Mr Conroy only laughed and said:“You’ll have five pounds in yours when next rent-day comes around, or ’twill be the worse for you. You wouldn’t like to be evicted, I’m sure.”Then he mounted his horse and rode away.Mr McQueen went into the house with a heavy heart, and told his wife the bad news.“Faith,” said Mrs McQueen, “I’d not be in that man’s shoes for all you could offer. It’s grinding down the faces of the poor he is, and that at the telling of some one else! Not even his badness is his own! He does as he’s bid.”“He gets fat on it,” said Mr McQueen.“Faith, we’ll get along somehow,” said Mrs McQueen. “We always have, though ’tis true it’s been scant fare we’ve had now and again.”Mr McQueen didn’t answer. He went back to his work in the fields. MrsMcQueen got the Twins started off to school, with their lunch in a little tin bucket, and began her washing, but she did not sing at her work that day as she sometimes did.Larry and Eileen knew that something was wrong, though their Father and Mother had not said anything to them about it.They had seen Mr Conroy talking with their Father in the yard. “And it’s never a sign of anything good to see Mr Conroy,” Eileen said.Larry was thinking the same thing, for he said:—“When I’m a man, I’m going to be rich, and then I’ll give you and Mother and Dada a fine house, and fine clothes, and things in plenty.”“However will you get the money?” asked Eileen.“Oh! Giants or something,” Larry answered, “or maybe being an Alderman.”“Blathers!” said Eileen. “I’ve a better plan in my head. You know Dada and Mother said we could have Diddy for our very own, because we found her ourselves.”“I do,” said Larry.“Well, then,” said Eileen, “I know it’s about the rent they are bothered, for it always is the rent that bothers them. Now, when the Fair-time comes we’ll coax Dada to let us take Diddy to the Fair. She’ll be nice and fat by that time, and we’ll sell her, and give the money to Dada for the rent!”“Sure, it will be hard parting with Diddy, that’s been like one of our own family since the day we found her crying in the bog,” said Larry.“Indeed, and it will,” said Eileen, “but we think more of our parents than of a pig, surely.”“But however will we get her to the Fair to sell her?” said Larry.“We’ll get Dada to take her for us, but we’ll never tell him we mean the money to go for the rent until we put it in hishands,” Eileen answered, “and we won’t tell any one else at all. It’s a Secret.”“I’d like to be telling Dennis, maybe,” said Larry.“We can tell Dennis and Grannie Malone, but no one else at all,” Eileen agreed.

Mr McQueen was a good farmer, but at the time he lived in Ireland, farmers could not own their farms.

The land was all owned by rich landlords, who did not do any work themselves. These landlords very often lived away in England or France, and did not know much about how the poor people lived at home, or how hard they had to work to get the money for the rent of their farms.

Sometimes, when they did know, they didn’t care. What they wanted was all the money they could get, so they could live in fine houses and wear beautiful clothes, and go where they pleased, without doing any work.

When the landlords were away, they had agents to collect the rents for them.

The business of these agents was to get all the rent money they could, and they made life very hard for the farmers.

Sometimes when the farmers couldn’t pay all the rent, the agent would turn them out of their houses. This was called “evicting” them. The farm that Mr McQueen lived on, as well as the village and all the country roundabout, was owned by the Earl of Elsmore, who lived most of the year in great style in England. The agent who collected rents was Mr Conroy. Nobody liked Mr Conroy very much, but everybody was afraid of him, because he could do so much to injure them.

So one morning when Mr McQueen came back very early from his potato-field, he was not glad to see Mr Conroy’s horse standing near his door, and Mr Conroy himself, leaning on the farmyard fence, looking at the fowls.

“How are you, McQueen?” said Mr Conroy, when Mr McQueen came up.

“Well enough, Mr Conroy,” said Mr McQueen.

“And you’re doing well with the farm, too, it seems,” said Mr Conroy. “Those are good-looking fowls you have, and the pig is fine and fat. How many cows have you, now?”

“Two, and a heifer,” said Mr McQueen.

“You drained that field over by the bog this year, didn’t you, and have it planted to turnips?” went on Mr Conroy. “I’m glad to see you so prosperous, McQueen. Of course, now, the farm is worth more than it was when you first took it, and so you’ll not be surprised that I’m raising the rent on you.”

“If the farm is worth more, ’tis my work that has made it so,” said Mr McQueen, “and I shouldn’t be punished for that. The house is none too good at all, and the place is not worth more. Last year was the drought and all manner of bad luck, and next year may be no better. Truly, Mr Conroy, if you press me, I don’t know how I can scrape more together than I’m paying now.”

“Well, then,” said Mr Conroy. “You must just find a way, for this is one of the best farms about here, and you should pay as much as any one.”

“You can’t get money by shaking a man with empty pockets,” said Mr McQueen.

But Mr Conroy only laughed and said:

“You’ll have five pounds in yours when next rent-day comes around, or ’twill be the worse for you. You wouldn’t like to be evicted, I’m sure.”

Then he mounted his horse and rode away.

Mr McQueen went into the house with a heavy heart, and told his wife the bad news.

“Faith,” said Mrs McQueen, “I’d not be in that man’s shoes for all you could offer. It’s grinding down the faces of the poor he is, and that at the telling of some one else! Not even his badness is his own! He does as he’s bid.”

“He gets fat on it,” said Mr McQueen.

“Faith, we’ll get along somehow,” said Mrs McQueen. “We always have, though ’tis true it’s been scant fare we’ve had now and again.”

Mr McQueen didn’t answer. He went back to his work in the fields. MrsMcQueen got the Twins started off to school, with their lunch in a little tin bucket, and began her washing, but she did not sing at her work that day as she sometimes did.

Larry and Eileen knew that something was wrong, though their Father and Mother had not said anything to them about it.

They had seen Mr Conroy talking with their Father in the yard. “And it’s never a sign of anything good to see Mr Conroy,” Eileen said.

Larry was thinking the same thing, for he said:—

“When I’m a man, I’m going to be rich, and then I’ll give you and Mother and Dada a fine house, and fine clothes, and things in plenty.”

“However will you get the money?” asked Eileen.

“Oh! Giants or something,” Larry answered, “or maybe being an Alderman.”

“Blathers!” said Eileen. “I’ve a better plan in my head. You know Dada and Mother said we could have Diddy for our very own, because we found her ourselves.”

“I do,” said Larry.

“Well, then,” said Eileen, “I know it’s about the rent they are bothered, for it always is the rent that bothers them. Now, when the Fair-time comes we’ll coax Dada to let us take Diddy to the Fair. She’ll be nice and fat by that time, and we’ll sell her, and give the money to Dada for the rent!”

“Sure, it will be hard parting with Diddy, that’s been like one of our own family since the day we found her crying in the bog,” said Larry.

“Indeed, and it will,” said Eileen, “but we think more of our parents than of a pig, surely.”

“But however will we get her to the Fair to sell her?” said Larry.

“We’ll get Dada to take her for us, but we’ll never tell him we mean the money to go for the rent until we put it in hishands,” Eileen answered, “and we won’t tell any one else at all. It’s a Secret.”

“I’d like to be telling Dennis, maybe,” said Larry.

“We can tell Dennis and Grannie Malone, but no one else at all,” Eileen agreed.

Chapter Ten.School.By this time they had reached the schoolhouse. The Schoolmaster was standing in the door calling the children to come in.He was a tall man dressed in a worn suit of black. He wore glasses on his nose, and carried a stick in his hand.The schoolhouse had only one room, with four small windows, and Larry hung his cap and Eileen her shawl, on nails driven into the wall.The schoolroom had benches for the children to sit on, with long desks in front of them. On the wall hung a printed copy of the Ten Commandments. At one side there was a fireplace, but, as it was summer, there was no fire in it.The Master rapped on his desk, which was in the front of the room, and the children all hurried to their seats. Larry sat on one side of the room, with the boys. Eileen sat on the other, with the girls.The Master called the roll. There were fifteen boys and thirteen girls. When the roll was called and the number marked down on a slate in front of the school, the Master said, “First class in reading.”All the little boys and girls of the size of Larry and Eileen came forward and stood in a row. There were just three of them: Larry and Eileen and Dennis.“Larry, you may begin,” said the Master.Larry read the first lines of the lesson. They were, “To do ill is a sin.“Can you run far?”Larry wondered who it was that had done ill, and if he were running away because of it, and who stopped him to ask, “Can you run far?” He was thinking about it when Eileen read the next two sentences.They were, “Is he friend or foe?“Did you hurt your toe?”This did not seem to Larry to clear the mystery.“Next!” called the Master.Dennis stood next. He read, “He was born in a house on the hill.“Is rice a kind of corn?“Get me a cork for the ink jar.”Just at this point the Master went to the open door to drive away some chickens that wanted to come in, and as Dennis had not been told to stop he went right on. Dennis was eight, and he could read quite fast if he kept his finger on the place. This is what he read:—“The morn is the first part of the day.“This is my son, I hope you will like him.“Sin not, for God hates sin.“Can a worm walk?“No, it has no feet, but it can creep.“Did you meet Fred in the street?“Weep no more.”By this time the chickens were frightened away and Dennis was nearly out of breath.The Master came back. Then Eileen had a turn. They could almost say the lessons by heart, they knew them so well.After the reading-lesson they went back to their benches, and studied in loud whispers, but Larry was thinking of something else. He drew a pig with a curly tail on his slate—like this—He held it up for Dennis to see. He wanted to tell him about Diddy and the Fair, but the Master saw what he had done. “Come here, Larry McQueen, and bring your slate,” he said. “Sure, I’ll teach you better manners. Get up on this stool now, and show yourself.” He put a large paper dunce-cap on Larry’s head, and made him sit up on a stool before the whole school!The other children laughed, all but Eileen. She hid her face on her desk, and two little tears squeezed out between her fingers. But Larry didn’t cry. He pretended he didn’t care at all. He sat there for what seemed a very long time, while other children recited other lessons in reading, and grammar, and arithmetic. The Master gave him this poem to learn by heart:—“I thank the Goodness and the GraceThat on my birth have smiled,And made me in these Christian days,A happy English child.”Larry wondered why he was called an English child, when he knew he was Irish. And he wasn’t so sure either about the “Christian days”; but he learned it and said it to the teacher before he got down off the stool. It seemed to him that it was about three days before noontime came. At last they were dismissed, and the Twins went out with the other children into the schoolyard to eat their luncheon. Dennis ate his with them, and Larry told him the Secret.After lunch they went back into the dark, smoky little schoolroom for more lessons, and when three o’clock came, how glad they were to go dancing out into the sunshine again, and walk home along the familiar road, with the air sweet about them, and the little birds singing in the fields.

By this time they had reached the schoolhouse. The Schoolmaster was standing in the door calling the children to come in.

He was a tall man dressed in a worn suit of black. He wore glasses on his nose, and carried a stick in his hand.

The schoolhouse had only one room, with four small windows, and Larry hung his cap and Eileen her shawl, on nails driven into the wall.

The schoolroom had benches for the children to sit on, with long desks in front of them. On the wall hung a printed copy of the Ten Commandments. At one side there was a fireplace, but, as it was summer, there was no fire in it.

The Master rapped on his desk, which was in the front of the room, and the children all hurried to their seats. Larry sat on one side of the room, with the boys. Eileen sat on the other, with the girls.

The Master called the roll. There were fifteen boys and thirteen girls. When the roll was called and the number marked down on a slate in front of the school, the Master said, “First class in reading.”

All the little boys and girls of the size of Larry and Eileen came forward and stood in a row. There were just three of them: Larry and Eileen and Dennis.

“Larry, you may begin,” said the Master.

Larry read the first lines of the lesson. They were, “To do ill is a sin.

“Can you run far?”

Larry wondered who it was that had done ill, and if he were running away because of it, and who stopped him to ask, “Can you run far?” He was thinking about it when Eileen read the next two sentences.

They were, “Is he friend or foe?

“Did you hurt your toe?”

This did not seem to Larry to clear the mystery.

“Next!” called the Master.

Dennis stood next. He read, “He was born in a house on the hill.

“Is rice a kind of corn?

“Get me a cork for the ink jar.”

Just at this point the Master went to the open door to drive away some chickens that wanted to come in, and as Dennis had not been told to stop he went right on. Dennis was eight, and he could read quite fast if he kept his finger on the place. This is what he read:—

“The morn is the first part of the day.

“This is my son, I hope you will like him.

“Sin not, for God hates sin.

“Can a worm walk?

“No, it has no feet, but it can creep.

“Did you meet Fred in the street?

“Weep no more.”

By this time the chickens were frightened away and Dennis was nearly out of breath.

The Master came back. Then Eileen had a turn. They could almost say the lessons by heart, they knew them so well.

After the reading-lesson they went back to their benches, and studied in loud whispers, but Larry was thinking of something else. He drew a pig with a curly tail on his slate—like this—

He held it up for Dennis to see. He wanted to tell him about Diddy and the Fair, but the Master saw what he had done. “Come here, Larry McQueen, and bring your slate,” he said. “Sure, I’ll teach you better manners. Get up on this stool now, and show yourself.” He put a large paper dunce-cap on Larry’s head, and made him sit up on a stool before the whole school!

The other children laughed, all but Eileen. She hid her face on her desk, and two little tears squeezed out between her fingers. But Larry didn’t cry. He pretended he didn’t care at all. He sat there for what seemed a very long time, while other children recited other lessons in reading, and grammar, and arithmetic. The Master gave him this poem to learn by heart:—

“I thank the Goodness and the GraceThat on my birth have smiled,And made me in these Christian days,A happy English child.”

“I thank the Goodness and the GraceThat on my birth have smiled,And made me in these Christian days,A happy English child.”

Larry wondered why he was called an English child, when he knew he was Irish. And he wasn’t so sure either about the “Christian days”; but he learned it and said it to the teacher before he got down off the stool. It seemed to him that it was about three days before noontime came. At last they were dismissed, and the Twins went out with the other children into the schoolyard to eat their luncheon. Dennis ate his with them, and Larry told him the Secret.

After lunch they went back into the dark, smoky little schoolroom for more lessons, and when three o’clock came, how glad they were to go dancing out into the sunshine again, and walk home along the familiar road, with the air sweet about them, and the little birds singing in the fields.

Chapter Eleven.The Fair.For many weeks Eileen and Larry kept the Secret. They told no one but Dennis and Grannie Malone, and they both promised they would never, never tell.Mr McQueen worked hard—early and late—over his turnips and cabbages and potatoes, and Larry and Eileen helped by feeding the pig and chickens, and driving the cows along the roadsides, where they could get fresh sweet grass to eat.One evening Mr McQueen said to his wife. “Rent-day comes soon, and next week will be the Fair.”Larry and Eileen heard him say it. They looked at each other and then Eileen went to her Father and said, “Dada, will you take Larry and me to the Fair with you? We want to sell our pig.”“Yousell your pig!” cried Mr McQueen. “You mean you want to sell ityourselves?”“You can help us,” Eileen answered; “but it’s our pig and we want to sell it, don’t we, Larry?”Larry nodded his head up and down very hard with his mouth tight shut. He was so afraid the Secret would jump out of it!“Well, I never heard the likes of that!” said McQueen. He slapped his knee and laughed.“We’ve got it all planned,” said Eileen. She was almost ready to cry because her Father laughed at her. “We’ve fed the pig and fed her, until she’s so fat she can hardly walk, and we are going to wash her clean, and I have a ribbon to tie on her ear. Diddy will look so fine and stylish, I’m sure some one will want to buy her!”Mrs McQueen was just setting away a pan of milk. She stopped with the pan in her hand.“Leave them go,” she said.Mr McQueen smoked awhile in silence. At last he said:—“It’s your own pig, and I suppose you can go, but you’ll have a long day of it.”“The longer the better,” said the Twins.All that week they carried acorns, and turnip-tops, and everything they could find that was good for pigs to eat, and fed them to Diddy, and she got fatter than ever.The day before the Fair, they took the scrubbing-pail and the broom, and some water, and scrubbed her until she was all pink and clean. Then they put her in a clean place for the night, and went to bed early so they would be ready to get up in the morning.When the first cock crowed, before daylight the next morning, Eileen’s eyes popped wide open in the dark. The cock crowed again.Cock-a-doodle-doo!“Wake up, Larry darling,” cried Eileen from her bed. “The morn is upon us, and we are not ready for the Fair.”Larry bounded out of bed, and such a scurrying around as there was to get ready! Mrs McQueen was already blowing the fire on the hearth in the kitchen into a blaze, and the kettle was on to boil. The Twins wet their hair and their Mother parted it and then they combed it down tight on the sides of their heads. But no matter how much they wet their hair, the wind always blew it about their ears again in a very little while. They put on their best clothes, and then they were ready for breakfast.Mr McQueen was up long before the Twins. He had harnessed Colleen and had loaded the pig into the cart somehow, and tied her securely. This must have been hard work, for Diddy had made up her mind she wasn’t going to the Fair.Mr McQueen had found room, too, for some crocks of butter, and several dozen eggs carefully packed in straw.When breakfast was over, Mrs McQueen brought a stick with notches cut in it and gave it to Mr McQueen.She explained what each notch meant. “There’s one notch, and a big one, for selling the pig,” she said, “and mind you see that the Twins get a good price for the creature. And here’s another for selling the butter and eggs. And this is a pound of teafor Grannie Malone. She’s been out of tea this week past, and she with no one to send. And this notch is for Mrs Maguire’s side of bacon that you’re to be after bringing her with her egg money, which is wrapped in a piece of paper in your inside pocket, and by the same token don’t you be losing it.“And for myself, there’s so many things I’m needing, that I’ve put all these small notches close together. There’s yarn for stockings for the Twins, and some thread for myself, to make crochet, that might turn me a penny in my odd moments, and a bit of flour, and some yellow meal. Now remember that you forget nothing of it all!” Mr McQueen shook his head sadly. “Faith, there’s little pleasure in going to the Fair with so many things on my mind,” he said.The sun was just peeping over the distant hills, when Colleen started up the road, pulling the cart with Diddy in it, squealing “like a dozen of herself” Mrs McQueen said. Mr McQueen led the donkey, and Larry and Eileen followed on foot. They had on shoes and stockings, and Eileen had on a clean apron and a bright little shawl, so they looked quite gay.They walked miles and miles, beside bogs, and over hills, along country roads bordered by hedgerows or by stone walls. At last they saw the towers of the Castle which belonged to the Earl of Elsmore. It was on top of a high hill.The towers stood up strong and proud against the sky. Smoke was coming out of the chimneys.“Do you suppose the Earl himself is at home?” Eileen asked her Father.“’Tis not unlikely,” Mr McQueen answered. “He comes home sometimes with parties of gentlemen and ladies for a bit of shooting or fishing.”“Maybe he’ll come to the Fair,” Eileen said to Larry.“Sure, he’d never miss anything so grand as the Fair and he being in this part of the world,” said Larry.Some distance from the Castle they could see a church spire, and the roofs of the town, and nearer they saw a little village of stalls standing in the green field, like mushrooms that had sprung up overnight.“The Fair! The Fair!” cried the Twins.

For many weeks Eileen and Larry kept the Secret. They told no one but Dennis and Grannie Malone, and they both promised they would never, never tell.

Mr McQueen worked hard—early and late—over his turnips and cabbages and potatoes, and Larry and Eileen helped by feeding the pig and chickens, and driving the cows along the roadsides, where they could get fresh sweet grass to eat.

One evening Mr McQueen said to his wife. “Rent-day comes soon, and next week will be the Fair.”

Larry and Eileen heard him say it. They looked at each other and then Eileen went to her Father and said, “Dada, will you take Larry and me to the Fair with you? We want to sell our pig.”

“Yousell your pig!” cried Mr McQueen. “You mean you want to sell ityourselves?”

“You can help us,” Eileen answered; “but it’s our pig and we want to sell it, don’t we, Larry?”

Larry nodded his head up and down very hard with his mouth tight shut. He was so afraid the Secret would jump out of it!

“Well, I never heard the likes of that!” said McQueen. He slapped his knee and laughed.

“We’ve got it all planned,” said Eileen. She was almost ready to cry because her Father laughed at her. “We’ve fed the pig and fed her, until she’s so fat she can hardly walk, and we are going to wash her clean, and I have a ribbon to tie on her ear. Diddy will look so fine and stylish, I’m sure some one will want to buy her!”

Mrs McQueen was just setting away a pan of milk. She stopped with the pan in her hand.

“Leave them go,” she said.

Mr McQueen smoked awhile in silence. At last he said:—

“It’s your own pig, and I suppose you can go, but you’ll have a long day of it.”

“The longer the better,” said the Twins.

All that week they carried acorns, and turnip-tops, and everything they could find that was good for pigs to eat, and fed them to Diddy, and she got fatter than ever.

The day before the Fair, they took the scrubbing-pail and the broom, and some water, and scrubbed her until she was all pink and clean. Then they put her in a clean place for the night, and went to bed early so they would be ready to get up in the morning.

When the first cock crowed, before daylight the next morning, Eileen’s eyes popped wide open in the dark. The cock crowed again.Cock-a-doodle-doo!

“Wake up, Larry darling,” cried Eileen from her bed. “The morn is upon us, and we are not ready for the Fair.”

Larry bounded out of bed, and such a scurrying around as there was to get ready! Mrs McQueen was already blowing the fire on the hearth in the kitchen into a blaze, and the kettle was on to boil. The Twins wet their hair and their Mother parted it and then they combed it down tight on the sides of their heads. But no matter how much they wet their hair, the wind always blew it about their ears again in a very little while. They put on their best clothes, and then they were ready for breakfast.

Mr McQueen was up long before the Twins. He had harnessed Colleen and had loaded the pig into the cart somehow, and tied her securely. This must have been hard work, for Diddy had made up her mind she wasn’t going to the Fair.

Mr McQueen had found room, too, for some crocks of butter, and several dozen eggs carefully packed in straw.

When breakfast was over, Mrs McQueen brought a stick with notches cut in it and gave it to Mr McQueen.

She explained what each notch meant. “There’s one notch, and a big one, for selling the pig,” she said, “and mind you see that the Twins get a good price for the creature. And here’s another for selling the butter and eggs. And this is a pound of teafor Grannie Malone. She’s been out of tea this week past, and she with no one to send. And this notch is for Mrs Maguire’s side of bacon that you’re to be after bringing her with her egg money, which is wrapped in a piece of paper in your inside pocket, and by the same token don’t you be losing it.

“And for myself, there’s so many things I’m needing, that I’ve put all these small notches close together. There’s yarn for stockings for the Twins, and some thread for myself, to make crochet, that might turn me a penny in my odd moments, and a bit of flour, and some yellow meal. Now remember that you forget nothing of it all!” Mr McQueen shook his head sadly. “Faith, there’s little pleasure in going to the Fair with so many things on my mind,” he said.

The sun was just peeping over the distant hills, when Colleen started up the road, pulling the cart with Diddy in it, squealing “like a dozen of herself” Mrs McQueen said. Mr McQueen led the donkey, and Larry and Eileen followed on foot. They had on shoes and stockings, and Eileen had on a clean apron and a bright little shawl, so they looked quite gay.

They walked miles and miles, beside bogs, and over hills, along country roads bordered by hedgerows or by stone walls. At last they saw the towers of the Castle which belonged to the Earl of Elsmore. It was on top of a high hill.

The towers stood up strong and proud against the sky. Smoke was coming out of the chimneys.

“Do you suppose the Earl himself is at home?” Eileen asked her Father.

“’Tis not unlikely,” Mr McQueen answered. “He comes home sometimes with parties of gentlemen and ladies for a bit of shooting or fishing.”

“Maybe he’ll come to the Fair,” Eileen said to Larry.

“Sure, he’d never miss anything so grand as the Fair and he being in this part of the world,” said Larry.

Some distance from the Castle they could see a church spire, and the roofs of the town, and nearer they saw a little village of stalls standing in the green field, like mushrooms that had sprung up overnight.

“The Fair! The Fair!” cried the Twins.

Chapter Twelve.How they sold the Pig.Although they had come so far, they were among the earliest at the Fair. People were hurrying to and fro, carrying all sorts of goods and arranging them for sale on counters in little stalls, around an open square in the centre of the grounds.Cattle were being driven to their pens, horses were being brushed and curried, sheep were bleating, cows were lowing, and even the hens and ducks added their noise to the concert. Diddy herself squealed with all her might.Larry and Eileen had never seen so many people together before in all their lives.They had to think very hard about the Secret in order not to forget everything but the beautiful things they saw in the different stalls.There were vegetables and meats, and butter and eggs. There were hats and caps. There were crochet-work, and bed-quilts, and shawls with bright borders, spread out for people to see.There were hawkers going about with trays of things to eat, pies and sweets, toffee and sugar-sticks. This made the Twins remember that they were dreadfully hungry after their long walk, but they didn’t have anything to eat until quite a while after that, because they had so much else to do. They followed their Father to the corner where the pigs were. A man came to tell them where to put Diddy.“You can talk with these two farmers,” said Mr McQueen. He brought the Twins forward. “It’s their pig.”Then Larry and Eileen told the man about finding Diddy in the bog, and that their Father had said they could have her for their own, and so they had come to the Fair to sell her.“And whatever will you do with all the money?” asked the man.The Twinsalmosttold! The Secret was right on the tip end of their tongues, but they clapped their hands over their mouths, quickly, so it didn’t get out.The man laughed. “Anyway, it’s a fine pig, and you’ve a right to get a good price for her,” he said. And he gave them the very best pen of all for Diddy.When she was safely in the pen, Eileen and Larry tied the red ribbon, which Eileen had brought in her pocket, to Diddy’s ear, and another to her tail. Diddy looked very gay.When the Twins had had a bite to eat, they stood up before Diddy’s pen, where the man told them to, and Diddy stood up on her hind legs with her front feet on the rail, and squealed. Larry and Eileen fed her with turnip-tops.There were a great many people in theFairgrounds by that time. They were laughing and talking, and looking at the things in the different booths. Every single one of them stopped to look at Diddy and the Twins, because the Twins were the very youngest farmers in the whole Fair.Everybody was interested, but nobody offered to buy, and the Twins were getting discouraged when along came some farmers with ribbons in their hands. They were the Judges!The Twins almost held their breath while the Judges looked Diddy over. Then the head man said, “That’s a very fine pig, and young. She is a thoroughbred. Wherever did you get her, Mr McQueen?”Mr McQueen just said, “Ask them!” pointing to the Twins.The Twins were very much scared to be talking to the Judges, but they told about the Tinkers and how they found Diddy in the bog, and the Judges nodded their heads and looked very wise, and finally the chief one said, “Faith, there’s not her equal in the whole Fair! She gets the blue ribbon, or I’m no Judge.”All the other men said the same. Then they gave the blue ribbon to the Twins, and Eileen tied it on Diddy’s other ear! Diddy did not seem to like being dressed up. She wiggled her ears and squealed.Just then there was the gay sound of a horn.Tara, tara, tara! it sang, and right into the middle of the Fairground drove a great tally-ho coach, with pretty young ladies and fine young gentlemen riding on top of it.Everybody turned away from Diddy and the Twins to see this grand sight!The footman jumped down and helped down the ladies, while the driver, in livery, stood beside the horses’ heads with his hand on their bridles.Then all the young gentlemen and ladies went about the Fair to see the sights.“’Tis a grand party from the Castle,” said Mr McQueen to the Twins. “And sure, that’s the Earl’s daughter, the Lady Kathleen herself, with the pink roses on her hat! I haven’t seen a sight of her since she was a slip of a girl, the size of yourselves.”Lady Kathleen and her party came by just at that moment, and when she saw Diddy with her ribbons and the Twins beside her, the Lady Kathleen stopped.The Twins could hardly take their eyesoff her sweet face and her pretty dress, and the flowered hat, but she asked them all sorts of questions, and finally they found themselves telling her the story of how they found the pig.“And what is your pig’s name?” said Lady Kathleen.“Sure, ma’am, it’s Deirdre, but we call her Diddy for short,” Eileen answered.All the young gentlemen and ladies laughed. The Twins didn’t like to be laughed at—they were almost ready to cry.“And why did you call her Deirdre?” asked Lady Kathleen.“It was because of finding her in the bog all alone with herself, the same as Deirdre when she was a baby and found by the high King of Emain,” Eileen explained.“A very good reason, and it’s the finest story in Ireland,” said Lady Kathleen. “I’m glad you know it so well, and she is such a fine pig that I’m going to buy her from you myself.”All the young ladies seemed to think this very funny, indeed. But Lady Kathleen didn’t laugh. She called one of the footmen. He came running. “Do you see that this pig is sent to the Castle when the Fair is over,” she said.“I will, your Ladyship,” said the footman. Then Lady Kathleen took out her purse. “What is the price of your pig?” she said to the Twins.They didn’t know what to say, but the Judge, who was standing near, said, “She is a high-bred pig, your Ladyship, and worth all of three pounds.”“Three pounds it is, then,” said the Lady Kathleen. She opened her purse and took out three golden sovereigns.She gave them to the Twins and then almost before they found breath to say, “Thank you, ma’am,” she and her gay company had gone on to another part of the Fair. The Judge made a mark on Diddy’s back to show that she had been sold.The Twins gave the three golden sovereigns to their Father to carry for them, and he put them in the most inside pocket he had, for safe keeping! Then while he stayed to sell his butter and eggs, and to do his buying, the Twins started out to see the Fair by themselves.

Although they had come so far, they were among the earliest at the Fair. People were hurrying to and fro, carrying all sorts of goods and arranging them for sale on counters in little stalls, around an open square in the centre of the grounds.

Cattle were being driven to their pens, horses were being brushed and curried, sheep were bleating, cows were lowing, and even the hens and ducks added their noise to the concert. Diddy herself squealed with all her might.

Larry and Eileen had never seen so many people together before in all their lives.

They had to think very hard about the Secret in order not to forget everything but the beautiful things they saw in the different stalls.

There were vegetables and meats, and butter and eggs. There were hats and caps. There were crochet-work, and bed-quilts, and shawls with bright borders, spread out for people to see.

There were hawkers going about with trays of things to eat, pies and sweets, toffee and sugar-sticks. This made the Twins remember that they were dreadfully hungry after their long walk, but they didn’t have anything to eat until quite a while after that, because they had so much else to do. They followed their Father to the corner where the pigs were. A man came to tell them where to put Diddy.

“You can talk with these two farmers,” said Mr McQueen. He brought the Twins forward. “It’s their pig.”

Then Larry and Eileen told the man about finding Diddy in the bog, and that their Father had said they could have her for their own, and so they had come to the Fair to sell her.

“And whatever will you do with all the money?” asked the man.

The Twinsalmosttold! The Secret was right on the tip end of their tongues, but they clapped their hands over their mouths, quickly, so it didn’t get out.

The man laughed. “Anyway, it’s a fine pig, and you’ve a right to get a good price for her,” he said. And he gave them the very best pen of all for Diddy.

When she was safely in the pen, Eileen and Larry tied the red ribbon, which Eileen had brought in her pocket, to Diddy’s ear, and another to her tail. Diddy looked very gay.

When the Twins had had a bite to eat, they stood up before Diddy’s pen, where the man told them to, and Diddy stood up on her hind legs with her front feet on the rail, and squealed. Larry and Eileen fed her with turnip-tops.

There were a great many people in theFairgrounds by that time. They were laughing and talking, and looking at the things in the different booths. Every single one of them stopped to look at Diddy and the Twins, because the Twins were the very youngest farmers in the whole Fair.

Everybody was interested, but nobody offered to buy, and the Twins were getting discouraged when along came some farmers with ribbons in their hands. They were the Judges!

The Twins almost held their breath while the Judges looked Diddy over. Then the head man said, “That’s a very fine pig, and young. She is a thoroughbred. Wherever did you get her, Mr McQueen?”

Mr McQueen just said, “Ask them!” pointing to the Twins.

The Twins were very much scared to be talking to the Judges, but they told about the Tinkers and how they found Diddy in the bog, and the Judges nodded their heads and looked very wise, and finally the chief one said, “Faith, there’s not her equal in the whole Fair! She gets the blue ribbon, or I’m no Judge.”

All the other men said the same. Then they gave the blue ribbon to the Twins, and Eileen tied it on Diddy’s other ear! Diddy did not seem to like being dressed up. She wiggled her ears and squealed.

Just then there was the gay sound of a horn.Tara, tara, tara! it sang, and right into the middle of the Fairground drove a great tally-ho coach, with pretty young ladies and fine young gentlemen riding on top of it.

Everybody turned away from Diddy and the Twins to see this grand sight!

The footman jumped down and helped down the ladies, while the driver, in livery, stood beside the horses’ heads with his hand on their bridles.

Then all the young gentlemen and ladies went about the Fair to see the sights.

“’Tis a grand party from the Castle,” said Mr McQueen to the Twins. “And sure, that’s the Earl’s daughter, the Lady Kathleen herself, with the pink roses on her hat! I haven’t seen a sight of her since she was a slip of a girl, the size of yourselves.”

Lady Kathleen and her party came by just at that moment, and when she saw Diddy with her ribbons and the Twins beside her, the Lady Kathleen stopped.

The Twins could hardly take their eyesoff her sweet face and her pretty dress, and the flowered hat, but she asked them all sorts of questions, and finally they found themselves telling her the story of how they found the pig.

“And what is your pig’s name?” said Lady Kathleen.

“Sure, ma’am, it’s Deirdre, but we call her Diddy for short,” Eileen answered.

All the young gentlemen and ladies laughed. The Twins didn’t like to be laughed at—they were almost ready to cry.

“And why did you call her Deirdre?” asked Lady Kathleen.

“It was because of finding her in the bog all alone with herself, the same as Deirdre when she was a baby and found by the high King of Emain,” Eileen explained.

“A very good reason, and it’s the finest story in Ireland,” said Lady Kathleen. “I’m glad you know it so well, and she is such a fine pig that I’m going to buy her from you myself.”

All the young ladies seemed to think this very funny, indeed. But Lady Kathleen didn’t laugh. She called one of the footmen. He came running. “Do you see that this pig is sent to the Castle when the Fair is over,” she said.

“I will, your Ladyship,” said the footman. Then Lady Kathleen took out her purse. “What is the price of your pig?” she said to the Twins.

They didn’t know what to say, but the Judge, who was standing near, said, “She is a high-bred pig, your Ladyship, and worth all of three pounds.”

“Three pounds it is, then,” said the Lady Kathleen. She opened her purse and took out three golden sovereigns.

She gave them to the Twins and then almost before they found breath to say, “Thank you, ma’am,” she and her gay company had gone on to another part of the Fair. The Judge made a mark on Diddy’s back to show that she had been sold.

The Twins gave the three golden sovereigns to their Father to carry for them, and he put them in the most inside pocket he had, for safe keeping! Then while he stayed to sell his butter and eggs, and to do his buying, the Twins started out to see the Fair by themselves.

Chapter Thirteen.What they saw.The first person they stopped to watch was a Juggler doing tricks. It was quite wonderful to see him keep three balls in the air all at the same time, or balance a pole on the end of his nose. But when he took out a frying-pan from behind his stall, and said to the Twins, who were standing right in front of him, “Now, I’ll be after making you a bit of an omelet without any cooking,” their eyes were fairly popping out of their heads with surprise.The Juggler broke an egg into the frying-pan. Then he clapped on the cover, waved the pan in the air, and lifted the cover again. Instead of an omelet there in the frying-pan was a little black chicken crying “Peep, peep,” as if it wanted its mother!The Juggler looked very much surprised himself, and the Twins were simply astonished.“Will you see that now!” Larry whispered to Eileen. “Sure, if only Old Speckle could be learning that trick, ’twould save her a deal of sitting.”“Indeed, then, ’tis magic,” Eileen answered back, “and there’s no luck in that same! Do you come away now, Larry McQueen, or he might be casting his spells on yourself and turning you into something else entirely, a goat maybe, or a Leprechaun!”This seemed quite likely to Larry, too, so they slipped hurriedly out under the elbows of the crowd just as the Juggler was in the very act of finding a white rabbit in the crown of his hat. They never stopped running until they found themselves in the middle of a group of people in a distant part of the Fairgrounds.This crowd had gathered around a rough-looking man with a bundle of papers under his arm. He was waving a leaflet in the air and shouting, “Ladies and Gentlemen—Whist now till I sing you a song of Old Ireland. ’Tis the Ballad of the Census Taker!” Then he began to sing in a voice as loud as a clap of thunder. This was the first verse of the song:—“Oh, they’re taking of the CensusIn the country and the town.Haveyour children got the measles?Areyour chimneys tumbling down?”Every one seemed to think this a very funny song and at the end of the second verse they all joined in the chorus. The Ballad Singer sang louder than all the rest of the people put together.“Musha, the roars of him are like the roars of a giant,” Eileen said to Larry. “Indeed, I’m fearing he’ll burst himself with the noise that’s in him.”The moment the song ended, the Ballad Singer passed the hat, and the crowd began to melt away. “There you go, now,” cried the Singer, “lepping away on your two hind legs like scared rabbits! Come along back now, and buy the Ballad of ‘The Peeler and the Goat.’ Sure, ’tis a fine song entirely and one you’ll all be wanting to sing yourselves when once you’ve heard it.” He seized a young man by the arm. “Walk up and buy a ballad now,” he said to him. “Troth, you’ve the look of a fine singer yourself, and dear knows what minute you may be needing one, and none handy. Come now, buy before ’tis too late.”The young man turned very red. “I don’t think I’ll be wanting any ballads,” he said, and tried to pull away.“You don’t think!” shouted the Ballad Singer. “Of course, you don’t think, you’ve nothing whatever to do it with!”The crowd laughed. The poor young man bought a ballad.“There now,” cried the Singer, “you’re the broth of a boy after all! Who’ll be after buying the next one off of me?”His eyes lighted on the Twins. They shook in their shoes. “He’ll be clapping one of them on us next,” Larry said toEileen. “We’d best be going along;” and they crept out of the crowd just as he began to roar out a new song.An old woman, with a white cap and a shawl over her head and a basket on her arm, smiled at them as they slipped by. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the Ballad Singer. “Melodious is the closed mouth,” she said.“Indeed, ma’am, I’ve often heard my Mother say so,” Eileen answered politely. She curtsied to the old woman.The old woman looked pleased. “Will you come along with me out of the sound of this—the both of you?” she said. “And I’ll take you to hear things that will keep the memory of Ireland green while there’s an Irishman left in the world.”She led them to a raised platform some distance away. Over the platform there floated a white flag with a green harp on it. The old woman pointed to it. “Do you remember the old harp of Tara?” she said to the Twins. “’Tis nowhere else at all now but on the flag, but time was, long, long years ago, when the harp itself was played on Tara’s hill. And in those days there were poets to praise Ireland, and singers to sing her songs. And here theywill be telling of those days, and singing those songs. Come and listen. ’Tis a Feis (pronouncedfaysh) they’re having, and prizes given for the best tale told, or the best song sung.”The old woman and the Twins made their way to the platform and sat down on a bench near the edge of it. Many other people were sitting or standing about. An old man stood up on the platform. He told the story of Cuchulain (pronouncedKoohoolin)—the “Hound of Culain”—and how he fought all the greatest warriors of the world on the day he first took arms.When he had finished, another man took his place and told the story of Deirdre and Naisi, and another told the fate of the four children of Lir that were turned into four beautiful swans by their cruel stepmother.And when the stories were finished a prize was given for the best one, and the Twins were glad that it was for the story of Deirdre, for that tale was like an old friend to them.After that there was music, and the dances of old Ireland—the reel and the lilt. And when last of all came the Irish jig, the old woman put her basket down on the ground.“Sure, the music is like the springtime in my bones,” she said to the Twins. “Be-dad, I’d the foot of the world on me whenI was a girl and I can still shake one with the best of them, if I do say it myself.”She put her hands on her hips and began to dance! The music got into everybody else’s bones, too, and soon everybody around the platform, and on it, too,—old and young, large and small,—was dancing gayly to the sound of it.The Twins danced with the rest, and they were having such a good time that they might have forgotten to go home at all if all of a sudden, Larry hadn’t shaken Eileen’s arm and said, “Look there!”“Where?” Eileen said. “There!” said Larry. “The rough man with the brown horse.”The moment Eileen saw the man with the brown horse she took Larry’s hand and they both ran as fast as they could back to their Father.“We saw the Tinker!” they cried the moment they saw Mr McQueen.“Then we’d as well be starting home,” said Mr McQueen. “I’d rather not be meeting the gentleman on the road after dark.” He got Colleen and put her into the cart once more. Then he and the Twins had something to eat. They bought a ginger cake shaped like a rabbit, and another likea man from one of the hawkers, and they bought some sugar-sticks, too, and these, with what they had brought from home, made their supper.Then Mr McQueen brought out his notched stick. “We’ve sold the pig,” he said, with his finger on the first notch, “and the butter and eggs was the second notch.” Then he went over all the other notches. “And besides all else I’ve bought Herself a shawl,” he said to the Twins.The Twins wanted to get home because the Secret was getting so big inside of them, they knew they couldn’t possibly hold it in much longer, and they didn’t want to let it out until they were at home and could tell their Father and Mother both at the same time. So they said good-bye to Diddy, and Eileen took off the ribbons and kept them to remember her by. Then they hurried away.It was after dark when at last they drove into the yard. Mrs McQueen came running to the door to greet them and hear all about the Fair.Eileen and Larry told her about the prize, and about Lady Kathleen buying the pig, and about seeing the Tinker, while their Father was putting up Colleen.Then when he came in with all his bundles, and took the three golden sovereigns out of his pocket, to show to the Mother, the Twins couldn’t keep still another minute. “It’s for you! To pay the rent!” they cried.The Father and Mother looked at each other. “Now, what are they at all,” said Mrs McQueen, “but the best children in the width of the world? Wasn’t I after telling you that we’d make it out somehow? And to think of her being a thoroughbred like that, and we never knowing it at all.” She meant the pig!But Mr McQueen never said a word. He just gave Larry and Eileen a great hug. Then Mr McQueen went over all the errands with his wife, and last of all he brought out the shawl. “There, old woman,” he said, “is a fairing for you!”“The Saints be praised for this day!” cried Mrs McQueen. “The rent paid, and me with a fine new shawl the equal of any in the parish.”It was a happy family that went to bed in the little farmhouse that night. Only Mrs McQueen didn’t sleep well. She got up a number of times in the night to be sure there were no Tinkers prowling about. “For one can’t be too careful with so much money in the house,” she said to herself.

The first person they stopped to watch was a Juggler doing tricks. It was quite wonderful to see him keep three balls in the air all at the same time, or balance a pole on the end of his nose. But when he took out a frying-pan from behind his stall, and said to the Twins, who were standing right in front of him, “Now, I’ll be after making you a bit of an omelet without any cooking,” their eyes were fairly popping out of their heads with surprise.

The Juggler broke an egg into the frying-pan. Then he clapped on the cover, waved the pan in the air, and lifted the cover again. Instead of an omelet there in the frying-pan was a little black chicken crying “Peep, peep,” as if it wanted its mother!

The Juggler looked very much surprised himself, and the Twins were simply astonished.

“Will you see that now!” Larry whispered to Eileen. “Sure, if only Old Speckle could be learning that trick, ’twould save her a deal of sitting.”

“Indeed, then, ’tis magic,” Eileen answered back, “and there’s no luck in that same! Do you come away now, Larry McQueen, or he might be casting his spells on yourself and turning you into something else entirely, a goat maybe, or a Leprechaun!”

This seemed quite likely to Larry, too, so they slipped hurriedly out under the elbows of the crowd just as the Juggler was in the very act of finding a white rabbit in the crown of his hat. They never stopped running until they found themselves in the middle of a group of people in a distant part of the Fairgrounds.

This crowd had gathered around a rough-looking man with a bundle of papers under his arm. He was waving a leaflet in the air and shouting, “Ladies and Gentlemen—Whist now till I sing you a song of Old Ireland. ’Tis the Ballad of the Census Taker!” Then he began to sing in a voice as loud as a clap of thunder. This was the first verse of the song:—

“Oh, they’re taking of the CensusIn the country and the town.Haveyour children got the measles?Areyour chimneys tumbling down?”

“Oh, they’re taking of the CensusIn the country and the town.Haveyour children got the measles?Areyour chimneys tumbling down?”

Every one seemed to think this a very funny song and at the end of the second verse they all joined in the chorus. The Ballad Singer sang louder than all the rest of the people put together.

“Musha, the roars of him are like the roars of a giant,” Eileen said to Larry. “Indeed, I’m fearing he’ll burst himself with the noise that’s in him.”

The moment the song ended, the Ballad Singer passed the hat, and the crowd began to melt away. “There you go, now,” cried the Singer, “lepping away on your two hind legs like scared rabbits! Come along back now, and buy the Ballad of ‘The Peeler and the Goat.’ Sure, ’tis a fine song entirely and one you’ll all be wanting to sing yourselves when once you’ve heard it.” He seized a young man by the arm. “Walk up and buy a ballad now,” he said to him. “Troth, you’ve the look of a fine singer yourself, and dear knows what minute you may be needing one, and none handy. Come now, buy before ’tis too late.”

The young man turned very red. “I don’t think I’ll be wanting any ballads,” he said, and tried to pull away.

“You don’t think!” shouted the Ballad Singer. “Of course, you don’t think, you’ve nothing whatever to do it with!”

The crowd laughed. The poor young man bought a ballad.

“There now,” cried the Singer, “you’re the broth of a boy after all! Who’ll be after buying the next one off of me?”

His eyes lighted on the Twins. They shook in their shoes. “He’ll be clapping one of them on us next,” Larry said toEileen. “We’d best be going along;” and they crept out of the crowd just as he began to roar out a new song.

An old woman, with a white cap and a shawl over her head and a basket on her arm, smiled at them as they slipped by. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the Ballad Singer. “Melodious is the closed mouth,” she said.

“Indeed, ma’am, I’ve often heard my Mother say so,” Eileen answered politely. She curtsied to the old woman.

The old woman looked pleased. “Will you come along with me out of the sound of this—the both of you?” she said. “And I’ll take you to hear things that will keep the memory of Ireland green while there’s an Irishman left in the world.”

She led them to a raised platform some distance away. Over the platform there floated a white flag with a green harp on it. The old woman pointed to it. “Do you remember the old harp of Tara?” she said to the Twins. “’Tis nowhere else at all now but on the flag, but time was, long, long years ago, when the harp itself was played on Tara’s hill. And in those days there were poets to praise Ireland, and singers to sing her songs. And here theywill be telling of those days, and singing those songs. Come and listen. ’Tis a Feis (pronouncedfaysh) they’re having, and prizes given for the best tale told, or the best song sung.”

The old woman and the Twins made their way to the platform and sat down on a bench near the edge of it. Many other people were sitting or standing about. An old man stood up on the platform. He told the story of Cuchulain (pronouncedKoohoolin)—the “Hound of Culain”—and how he fought all the greatest warriors of the world on the day he first took arms.

When he had finished, another man took his place and told the story of Deirdre and Naisi, and another told the fate of the four children of Lir that were turned into four beautiful swans by their cruel stepmother.

And when the stories were finished a prize was given for the best one, and the Twins were glad that it was for the story of Deirdre, for that tale was like an old friend to them.

After that there was music, and the dances of old Ireland—the reel and the lilt. And when last of all came the Irish jig, the old woman put her basket down on the ground.

“Sure, the music is like the springtime in my bones,” she said to the Twins. “Be-dad, I’d the foot of the world on me whenI was a girl and I can still shake one with the best of them, if I do say it myself.”

She put her hands on her hips and began to dance! The music got into everybody else’s bones, too, and soon everybody around the platform, and on it, too,—old and young, large and small,—was dancing gayly to the sound of it.

The Twins danced with the rest, and they were having such a good time that they might have forgotten to go home at all if all of a sudden, Larry hadn’t shaken Eileen’s arm and said, “Look there!”

“Where?” Eileen said. “There!” said Larry. “The rough man with the brown horse.”

The moment Eileen saw the man with the brown horse she took Larry’s hand and they both ran as fast as they could back to their Father.

“We saw the Tinker!” they cried the moment they saw Mr McQueen.

“Then we’d as well be starting home,” said Mr McQueen. “I’d rather not be meeting the gentleman on the road after dark.” He got Colleen and put her into the cart once more. Then he and the Twins had something to eat. They bought a ginger cake shaped like a rabbit, and another likea man from one of the hawkers, and they bought some sugar-sticks, too, and these, with what they had brought from home, made their supper.

Then Mr McQueen brought out his notched stick. “We’ve sold the pig,” he said, with his finger on the first notch, “and the butter and eggs was the second notch.” Then he went over all the other notches. “And besides all else I’ve bought Herself a shawl,” he said to the Twins.

The Twins wanted to get home because the Secret was getting so big inside of them, they knew they couldn’t possibly hold it in much longer, and they didn’t want to let it out until they were at home and could tell their Father and Mother both at the same time. So they said good-bye to Diddy, and Eileen took off the ribbons and kept them to remember her by. Then they hurried away.

It was after dark when at last they drove into the yard. Mrs McQueen came running to the door to greet them and hear all about the Fair.

Eileen and Larry told her about the prize, and about Lady Kathleen buying the pig, and about seeing the Tinker, while their Father was putting up Colleen.

Then when he came in with all his bundles, and took the three golden sovereigns out of his pocket, to show to the Mother, the Twins couldn’t keep still another minute. “It’s for you! To pay the rent!” they cried.

The Father and Mother looked at each other. “Now, what are they at all,” said Mrs McQueen, “but the best children in the width of the world? Wasn’t I after telling you that we’d make it out somehow? And to think of her being a thoroughbred like that, and we never knowing it at all.” She meant the pig!

But Mr McQueen never said a word. He just gave Larry and Eileen a great hug. Then Mr McQueen went over all the errands with his wife, and last of all he brought out the shawl. “There, old woman,” he said, “is a fairing for you!”

“The Saints be praised for this day!” cried Mrs McQueen. “The rent paid, and me with a fine new shawl the equal of any in the parish.”

It was a happy family that went to bed in the little farmhouse that night. Only Mrs McQueen didn’t sleep well. She got up a number of times in the night to be sure there were no Tinkers prowling about. “For one can’t be too careful with so much money in the house,” she said to herself.

Chapter Fourteen.Sunday.The next Sunday all the McQueen family went to Mass and Mrs McQueen wore her new shawl. The chapel was quite a distance away, and as they walked and all the neighbours walked, too, they had a pleasant time talking together along the way.Dennis and the Twins walked together, and Larry and Eileen told Dennis all about the Fair, and about selling the pig to the Lady Kathleen, and “Begorra,” said Dennis, “but that little pig was after bringing you all the luck in the world, wasn’t she?” All the other boys and girls wanted to hear about it. Most of them had never been to a Fair. So Eileen and Larry talked all the way to church, and that was two miles and a half of talk, the shortest way you could go.Just as they neared the church, what should they see but Grannie Malone, coming in grandeur, riding on a jaunting-car! Beside her was a big man with a tall hat on his head.“’Tis her son Michael, back from the States!” cried the Twins. “He said in a letter he was coming.”They ran as fast as they could to reach the church door in time to see them go in. Everybody else stopped, too, they were so surprised, and everybody said to everybody else, “Well, for dear’s sake, if that’s not Michael Malone come back to see his old Mother!”And then they whispered among themselves, “Look at the grand clothes on him, and the scarf pin the bigness of a ha’penny piece, and the hat! Sure, America must be the rich place entirely.”And when Michael got out of the cart and helped out his old Mother, there were many hands held out for him to shake, and many old neighbours for him to greet.“This is a proud day for you, Grannie Malone,” said Mrs McQueen.“It is,” said Grannie, “and a sad day, too, for he’s after taking me back to America, and ’tis likely I’ll never set my two eyes on old Ireland again, when once the width of the sea comes between us.”She wiped her eyes as she spoke. Then the bell rang to call the people into the chapel. It was little the congregation heard of the service that day, for however much they tried they couldn’t help looking at the back of Michael’s head and at Grannie’s bonnet.And afterward, when all the people were outside the church door, Grannie Malone said to different old friends of Michael, “Come along to my house this afternoon, and listen to Himself telling about the States!”That afternoon when the McQueens had finished their noon meal, the whole family walked up the road to Grannie’s house. There were a good many people there before them. Grannie’s little house was full to the door. Michael stood by the fireplace, and as the McQueens came in he was saying, “It’s the truth I’m telling you! There are over forty States in the Union, and many of them bigger than the whole of Ireland itself! There are places in it where you could travel as far as from Dublin to Belfast without ever seeing a town at all; just fields without stones or trees lying there begging for the plough, and sorrow a person to give it them!”“Will you listen to that now?” said Grannie.“And more than that, if you’ll believe me,” Michael went on, “there do be places in America where theygive awayland, let alone buying it! Just by going and living on it for a time and doing a little work on it, you can get one hundred and sixty acres of land, for your own, mind you!”“The Saints preserve us, but that might be like Heaven itself, if I may make bold to say so,” said Mrs Maguire.“You may well say that, Mrs Maguire,” Michael answered, “for there, when a man has bent his back, and put in sweat and labour to enrich the land, it is not for some one else he does it, but for himself and his children. Of course, the land that is given away is far from big cities, and it’s queer and lonely sometimes on the distant farms, for they do not live in villages, as we do, but each farmhouse is by itself on its own land, and no neighbours handy. So for myself, I stayed in the big city.”“You seem to have prospered, Michael,” said Mr McQueen.“I have so,” Michael answered. “There are jobs in plenty for the willing hands. Sure, no Irishman would give up at all when there’s always something new to try. And there’s always somebody from the old sod there to help you if the luck turns on you. Do you remember Patrick Doran, now? He lived forninst the blacksmith shop years ago. Well, Patrick is a great man. He’s a man of fortune, and a good friend to myself. One year when times were hard, and work not so plenty, I lost my job, and didn’t Patrick help me to another the very next week? Not long after that Patrick ran for Alderman, and myself and many another like me, worked hard for to get him elected, and since then I’ve been in politics myself. First Patrick got me a job on the police force, and then I was Captain, and since then, by one change and another, if I do say it, I’m an Alderman myself!”“It’s wonderful, sure,” Mr Maguire said, when Michael had finished, “but I’m not wishful for to change. Sure, old Ireland is good enough for me, and I’d not be missing the larks singing in the spring in the green fields of Erin, and the smell of the peat on the hearth in winter. It’s queer and lonesome I’d be without these things, and that’s the truth.”He threw his head back and began to sing. Everybody joined in and sang, too. This is the song they sang:—“Old Ireland you’re my jewel sure,My heart’s delight and glory,Till Time shall pass his empty glassYour name shall live in story.“And this shall be the song for me,The first my heart was learning,When first my tongue its accents flung,Old Ireland, you’re my darling!“From Dublin Bay to Cork’s Sweet Cove,Old Ireland, you’re my darlingMy darling, my darling,From Dublin Bay to Cork’s Sweet Cove;Old Ireland, you’re my darling.”

The next Sunday all the McQueen family went to Mass and Mrs McQueen wore her new shawl. The chapel was quite a distance away, and as they walked and all the neighbours walked, too, they had a pleasant time talking together along the way.

Dennis and the Twins walked together, and Larry and Eileen told Dennis all about the Fair, and about selling the pig to the Lady Kathleen, and “Begorra,” said Dennis, “but that little pig was after bringing you all the luck in the world, wasn’t she?” All the other boys and girls wanted to hear about it. Most of them had never been to a Fair. So Eileen and Larry talked all the way to church, and that was two miles and a half of talk, the shortest way you could go.

Just as they neared the church, what should they see but Grannie Malone, coming in grandeur, riding on a jaunting-car! Beside her was a big man with a tall hat on his head.

“’Tis her son Michael, back from the States!” cried the Twins. “He said in a letter he was coming.”

They ran as fast as they could to reach the church door in time to see them go in. Everybody else stopped, too, they were so surprised, and everybody said to everybody else, “Well, for dear’s sake, if that’s not Michael Malone come back to see his old Mother!”

And then they whispered among themselves, “Look at the grand clothes on him, and the scarf pin the bigness of a ha’penny piece, and the hat! Sure, America must be the rich place entirely.”

And when Michael got out of the cart and helped out his old Mother, there were many hands held out for him to shake, and many old neighbours for him to greet.

“This is a proud day for you, Grannie Malone,” said Mrs McQueen.

“It is,” said Grannie, “and a sad day, too, for he’s after taking me back to America, and ’tis likely I’ll never set my two eyes on old Ireland again, when once the width of the sea comes between us.”

She wiped her eyes as she spoke. Then the bell rang to call the people into the chapel. It was little the congregation heard of the service that day, for however much they tried they couldn’t help looking at the back of Michael’s head and at Grannie’s bonnet.

And afterward, when all the people were outside the church door, Grannie Malone said to different old friends of Michael, “Come along to my house this afternoon, and listen to Himself telling about the States!”

That afternoon when the McQueens had finished their noon meal, the whole family walked up the road to Grannie’s house. There were a good many people there before them. Grannie’s little house was full to the door. Michael stood by the fireplace, and as the McQueens came in he was saying, “It’s the truth I’m telling you! There are over forty States in the Union, and many of them bigger than the whole of Ireland itself! There are places in it where you could travel as far as from Dublin to Belfast without ever seeing a town at all; just fields without stones or trees lying there begging for the plough, and sorrow a person to give it them!”

“Will you listen to that now?” said Grannie.

“And more than that, if you’ll believe me,” Michael went on, “there do be places in America where theygive awayland, let alone buying it! Just by going and living on it for a time and doing a little work on it, you can get one hundred and sixty acres of land, for your own, mind you!”

“The Saints preserve us, but that might be like Heaven itself, if I may make bold to say so,” said Mrs Maguire.

“You may well say that, Mrs Maguire,” Michael answered, “for there, when a man has bent his back, and put in sweat and labour to enrich the land, it is not for some one else he does it, but for himself and his children. Of course, the land that is given away is far from big cities, and it’s queer and lonely sometimes on the distant farms, for they do not live in villages, as we do, but each farmhouse is by itself on its own land, and no neighbours handy. So for myself, I stayed in the big city.”

“You seem to have prospered, Michael,” said Mr McQueen.

“I have so,” Michael answered. “There are jobs in plenty for the willing hands. Sure, no Irishman would give up at all when there’s always something new to try. And there’s always somebody from the old sod there to help you if the luck turns on you. Do you remember Patrick Doran, now? He lived forninst the blacksmith shop years ago. Well, Patrick is a great man. He’s a man of fortune, and a good friend to myself. One year when times were hard, and work not so plenty, I lost my job, and didn’t Patrick help me to another the very next week? Not long after that Patrick ran for Alderman, and myself and many another like me, worked hard for to get him elected, and since then I’ve been in politics myself. First Patrick got me a job on the police force, and then I was Captain, and since then, by one change and another, if I do say it, I’m an Alderman myself!”

“It’s wonderful, sure,” Mr Maguire said, when Michael had finished, “but I’m not wishful for to change. Sure, old Ireland is good enough for me, and I’d not be missing the larks singing in the spring in the green fields of Erin, and the smell of the peat on the hearth in winter. It’s queer and lonesome I’d be without these things, and that’s the truth.”

He threw his head back and began to sing. Everybody joined in and sang, too. This is the song they sang:—

“Old Ireland you’re my jewel sure,My heart’s delight and glory,Till Time shall pass his empty glassYour name shall live in story.“And this shall be the song for me,The first my heart was learning,When first my tongue its accents flung,Old Ireland, you’re my darling!“From Dublin Bay to Cork’s Sweet Cove,Old Ireland, you’re my darlingMy darling, my darling,From Dublin Bay to Cork’s Sweet Cove;Old Ireland, you’re my darling.”

“Old Ireland you’re my jewel sure,My heart’s delight and glory,Till Time shall pass his empty glassYour name shall live in story.“And this shall be the song for me,The first my heart was learning,When first my tongue its accents flung,Old Ireland, you’re my darling!“From Dublin Bay to Cork’s Sweet Cove,Old Ireland, you’re my darlingMy darling, my darling,From Dublin Bay to Cork’s Sweet Cove;Old Ireland, you’re my darling.”

Chapter Fifteen.Mr McQueen makes up his Mind.Michael sang with the others. And when the song was ended, he said, “’Tis a true word, Mr Maguire, that there’s no place like old Ireland; and you’ll not find an Irishman anywhere in America that wouldn’t put the man down that said a word against her. But what with the landlords taking every shilling you can scrape together and charging you higher rent whenever you make a bit of an improvement on your farm, there’s no chance at all to get on in the world. And with the children, God bless them, coming along by sixes and dozens, and little for them to do at home, and no place to put them when they grow up, sure, it’s well to go where they’ve a better chance.“Look at the schools now! If you could see the school that my Patrick goes to, you’d never rest at all until your children had the same! Sure, the schoolhouses are like palaces over there, and as for learning, the children pick it up as a hen does corn!”“And are there no faults with America, whatever?” Mr McQueen said to Michael.“There do be faults with her,” Michael answered, “and I’ll never be the man to say otherwise. There’s plenty of things to be said about America that would leave you thinking ’tis a long way this side of Heaven. But whatever it is that’s wrong, ’tis the people themselves that make it so, and by the same token it is themselves that can cure the trouble when they’re so minded. It’s not like having your troubles put down on you by the people that’s above you, and that you can’t reach at all for to be correcting them! All I say is there’s a better chance over there for yourself and the children.”The Twins and Dennis and the other young people were getting tired of sitting still by this time, and when Michael stopped talking about America they jumped up. The children ran outdoors and played tag around Grannie’s house, and the older people stayed inside.By and by Grannie came to the door and called them. “Come in, every one of you,” she cried, “and have a fine bit of cake with currants in it! Sure, Michael brought the currants and all the things for to make it yesterday, thinking maybe there’d be neighbours in. And maybe ’tis the last bit of cake I’ll be making for you at all, for ’tis but two weeks now until we start across the water.” She wiped her eyes on her apron.Mr McQueen was very quiet as he walked home with Mrs McQueen and the Twins. And that evening, after the children were in bed, he sat for a long time silent, with his pipe in his mouth. His pipe went out and he did not notice it. By andby he said to Mrs McQueen, “I’ve made up my mind—”“The Lord save us! To what?” said Mrs McQueen.“To go to America,” said Mr McQueen.Mrs McQueen hid her face in her hands and rocked back and forth and cried. “To be leaving the place I was born, and where my father and mother were born before me, and all the neighbours, and this old house that’s been home since ever I married you—’twill break the heart in my body,” she said.“I like that part of it no better than yourself,” said Mr McQueen, “but when I think of the years to come, and Larry and Eileen growing up to work as hard as we have worked without getting much at all, and think of the better chance altogether they’ll have over there, sure, I can’t be thinking of the pain, but only of the hope there is in it for them.”“I’ve seen this coming ever since the children told us about Grannie Malone’s letter,” said Mrs McQueen. “’Tis Michael has put this in your head.”“’Tis not Michael alone,” said Mr McQueen; “’tis also other things. To-morrow I pay Conroy the rent money. And it will take all that the pig brought and all I’ve been able to rake and scrape myself, and nothing left over at all. And there’s but ourselves and the Twins, and the year has not been a bad one. We have had the pig, which we wouldn’t be having another year. And what would it be like if there were more of us to feed, and no more pigs to be found in the bog like manna from Heaven, to be helping us out?”“Sure, if it’s for the children,” sobbed Mrs McQueen, “I’d go anywhere in the world, and that you know well.”“I do know it,” said Mr McQueen. “And since we’re going at all, let it be soon. We’ll go with Grannie and Michael.”“In two weeks’ time?” cried Mrs McQueen.“We will so,” said Mr McQueen. “I’ve no debts behind me, and we can sell the cows and hens, and take with us whatever we need from the house. Michael Malone will lend me the money and find me a job when we get there. The likes of this chance will never befall us again, and faith, we’ll take it.”“Did he tell you so?” asked Mrs McQueen.“He did, indeed.”“Well, then, I’ve no other word to say, and if it must be done, the sooner the better,” said Mrs McQueen.That night she lay awake a long time. She was planning just what they should take with them to their new home, and trying to think what the new home would be like.

Michael sang with the others. And when the song was ended, he said, “’Tis a true word, Mr Maguire, that there’s no place like old Ireland; and you’ll not find an Irishman anywhere in America that wouldn’t put the man down that said a word against her. But what with the landlords taking every shilling you can scrape together and charging you higher rent whenever you make a bit of an improvement on your farm, there’s no chance at all to get on in the world. And with the children, God bless them, coming along by sixes and dozens, and little for them to do at home, and no place to put them when they grow up, sure, it’s well to go where they’ve a better chance.

“Look at the schools now! If you could see the school that my Patrick goes to, you’d never rest at all until your children had the same! Sure, the schoolhouses are like palaces over there, and as for learning, the children pick it up as a hen does corn!”

“And are there no faults with America, whatever?” Mr McQueen said to Michael.

“There do be faults with her,” Michael answered, “and I’ll never be the man to say otherwise. There’s plenty of things to be said about America that would leave you thinking ’tis a long way this side of Heaven. But whatever it is that’s wrong, ’tis the people themselves that make it so, and by the same token it is themselves that can cure the trouble when they’re so minded. It’s not like having your troubles put down on you by the people that’s above you, and that you can’t reach at all for to be correcting them! All I say is there’s a better chance over there for yourself and the children.”

The Twins and Dennis and the other young people were getting tired of sitting still by this time, and when Michael stopped talking about America they jumped up. The children ran outdoors and played tag around Grannie’s house, and the older people stayed inside.

By and by Grannie came to the door and called them. “Come in, every one of you,” she cried, “and have a fine bit of cake with currants in it! Sure, Michael brought the currants and all the things for to make it yesterday, thinking maybe there’d be neighbours in. And maybe ’tis the last bit of cake I’ll be making for you at all, for ’tis but two weeks now until we start across the water.” She wiped her eyes on her apron.

Mr McQueen was very quiet as he walked home with Mrs McQueen and the Twins. And that evening, after the children were in bed, he sat for a long time silent, with his pipe in his mouth. His pipe went out and he did not notice it. By andby he said to Mrs McQueen, “I’ve made up my mind—”

“The Lord save us! To what?” said Mrs McQueen.

“To go to America,” said Mr McQueen.

Mrs McQueen hid her face in her hands and rocked back and forth and cried. “To be leaving the place I was born, and where my father and mother were born before me, and all the neighbours, and this old house that’s been home since ever I married you—’twill break the heart in my body,” she said.

“I like that part of it no better than yourself,” said Mr McQueen, “but when I think of the years to come, and Larry and Eileen growing up to work as hard as we have worked without getting much at all, and think of the better chance altogether they’ll have over there, sure, I can’t be thinking of the pain, but only of the hope there is in it for them.”

“I’ve seen this coming ever since the children told us about Grannie Malone’s letter,” said Mrs McQueen. “’Tis Michael has put this in your head.”

“’Tis not Michael alone,” said Mr McQueen; “’tis also other things. To-morrow I pay Conroy the rent money. And it will take all that the pig brought and all I’ve been able to rake and scrape myself, and nothing left over at all. And there’s but ourselves and the Twins, and the year has not been a bad one. We have had the pig, which we wouldn’t be having another year. And what would it be like if there were more of us to feed, and no more pigs to be found in the bog like manna from Heaven, to be helping us out?”

“Sure, if it’s for the children,” sobbed Mrs McQueen, “I’d go anywhere in the world, and that you know well.”

“I do know it,” said Mr McQueen. “And since we’re going at all, let it be soon. We’ll go with Grannie and Michael.”

“In two weeks’ time?” cried Mrs McQueen.

“We will so,” said Mr McQueen. “I’ve no debts behind me, and we can sell the cows and hens, and take with us whatever we need from the house. Michael Malone will lend me the money and find me a job when we get there. The likes of this chance will never befall us again, and faith, we’ll take it.”

“Did he tell you so?” asked Mrs McQueen.

“He did, indeed.”

“Well, then, I’ve no other word to say, and if it must be done, the sooner the better,” said Mrs McQueen.

That night she lay awake a long time. She was planning just what they should take with them to their new home, and trying to think what the new home would be like.

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