“Very well, you're not, thin; you've a bad leg, a bad figure, an' a bad face, an' it would be a terrible thing all out for Connor O'Donovan to fall in consate wid you.” “Well, about Connor I could tell you something;--me! tut! go to the sarra;--faix, you don't know them that Connor's afther, nor the collogin' they all had about it no longer ago than last night itself. I suppose they thought I was asleep, but it was like the hares, wid my eyes open.” “An' it's a pity, Biddy, ever the same two eyes should be shut. Begad, myself is beginning to feel quare somehow, when I look at them.” A glance of pretended incredulity was given in return, after which she proceeded-- “Bartle, don't be bringin' yourself to the fair wid sich folly. My eyes is jist as God made them; but I can tell you that before a month o' Sundays passes, I wouldn't be surprised if you seen Connor married to--you wouldn't guess!” “Not I; divil a hap'orth I know about who he's courtin'.” “No less than our great beauty, Bodagh Buie's daughter, Una O'Brien. Now, Bartle, for goodness sake, don't let this cross your lips to a livin' mortal. Sure I heard him tellin' all to the father and mother last night--they're promised to one another. Eh! blessed saints, Bartle, what ails you? you're as white as a sheet. What's wrong? and what did you start for?” “Nothin',” replied Flanagan, coolly, “but a stitch in my side. I'm subject to that--it pains me very much while it lasts, and laves me face, as you say, the color of dimity; but about Connor, upon my throth, I'm main proud to hear it; she's a purty girl, an' besides he'll have a fortune that'll make a man of him. I am, in throth, heart proud to hear it. It's a pity Connor's father isn't as dacent as himself. Arrah, Biddy, where does the ould codger keep his money?” “Little of it in the house any way--sure, whenever he scrapes a guinea together he's away wid it to the county ---- county ---- och, that countryman that keeps the money for the people.” “The treasurer; well, much good may his thrash do him, Biddy, that's the worst I wish him. Come now and I'll lave your pitchers at home, and remember you owe me something for this.” “Good will, I hope.” “That for one thing,” he replied, as they went along; “but we'll talk more about it when we have time; and I'll thin tell you the truth about what brought me to hire wid Fardorougha Donovan.” Having thus excited that most active principle called female curiosity, both entered the kitchen, where they found Connor and his mother in close and apparently confidential conversation--Fardorougha himself having as usual been abroad upon his farm for upwards of an hour before any of them had risen.