looking lad; he is red-haired, freckled and bandy-legged; yet for all that he is a very interesting child, at least to his mother, grandmother and aunts, to say nothing of myself. I wish the lad could be sent to school, he has been so decently brought up, that I am sure he would make a good school master to the poor Catholic children."
"Well, Mrs. M'Curdy, your wish shall be gratified; Patrick Conolly shall be sent to a good school for one year; nay, don't stop to thank me, it will cost me nothing. How do the women, his aunts and mother, maintain themselves?"
"They wash for the men at the forge and the quarry; and they pick blackberries in the season, and they go out to day's work to clean house and so on, and the old woman patches and mends and knits. They are as industrious as possible, but they barely make out to keep life and body together; for money is scarce and women are plenty. If the man only was sober it would do very well, but he is so notorious a drunkard that he can get no work during the few days he is sober."
"And thus the peace and well doing of a whole family are destroyed by the beastliness of one man. Who lives next to lame David?"
"Ah! then comes Larry M'Gilpin—there's an honest creature spoiled, sir, by too much willingness to help others. He is always too late at the forge or the quarry, or the mill, for he is never steady at one place, because he has to help one neighbour look for his run-a-way pig, or to put up a fence, or to run for a doctor, or something or other. Every body calls upon Larry M'Gilpin, but no one does a thing for him. I never heard of any one doing him a good turn but yourself, sir, and it was but small service he did for you. I try to be of use to him as far as I can, and Norah teaches his little girl to read, which you know is something;
