"'Tis me that was, sir; but oh, I'm not that now." "It's sad it must be to be looking back on the bright dancin' days o' youth, Mrs. Nolan." "Sure and it is, sir; but why--the fine bouncin' lad ye are--why should you be sayin' it?" "Ah, sure, youth has its trials and tribulations too, ma'am, sometimes. And is this your little place?" "It is. An' will you come in, sir?" "I will and thank ye kindly, ma'am. 'Tisn't every day a lady invites me into her place." "Whisht! There are ladies enough to be pleasant to a fine strappin' lad like you, with nothing on earth to be botherin' you." Tim laughed as he sat down. "Nothing? Oh, ma'am----" "And what is it can be worryin' you, sir?" "What is it? Well, if you had my job, Mrs. Nolan, I'm thinkin' you'd be worrying, too; even if 'twas big and strong and a man you were, and but thirty years of age. I'm the Republican speaker, ma'am, that has been sent to ye here. And for why? To convert ye, ma'am." "And so you're a Republican, sir? Well, well--but, savin' your presence, you don't look it or talk it. Sure, you're as Irish as myself!" "I'm that Irish, ma'am, that if you were to take the Irish from out of me it's faded and limp as a mornin'-glory at two in the afternoon I'd be." "And what's your name, may I ask?" "Riley, ma'am. Timothy Joseph Riley, to be exact." "Riley--Tim Riley! Well, you're the first Riley ever I knew was a Republican. That thin-necked one in the bank, and that other one, the fat-necked one in the real-estate place--sure, you don't favor them no more than--Yet there must be good men Republicans, too. Will you have a cuppeen o' tea? 'Tisn't much; but 'twill war-rm you, maybe, on the chill day." "Thank you; and 'twill taste fine--a cup o' tea on a chill day like this. And like to be chiller, Mrs. Nolan." "True for ye. And gen'rally I feels it; but not so to-day, sir. Mr. Kearney gave me a dollar, sayin' it was from a stranger and I wasn't to mention it--and I won't; but"--she shot a quick, warm glance at Tim--"God guard the kind heart of him, whoever he is. To-morrow I'll be orderin' some beautiful groceries with it. Tis a gran' sinsation to be goin' into a store and orderin' things." She stooped for her little bundle of fagots, but Tim forestalled her. He undid them, arranged them craftily in the stove with rolls of old newspaper beneath, and touched a match to the fire. "There, ma'am." "We'll have the little kittle b'ilin' in a minute now, sir." "And what will you do against the cold winter comin', ma'am?" "Oh, yeh! I'll do, no doubt, what I've done every winter since I come here--live through it." "With the cold wind coming through the wide cracks and the snow piling high on the wintry mornings, it won't be the tightest place in the world, ma'am." "Thanks be to God I have it--the same little cabin!" "Thank God you have! Whisht, ma'am"--- Tim laid a restraining hand on hers as she spooned the tea out of the can--"you won't be leaving yourself any at all."