“Well, God grant them luck an’ happiness, poor things! I do indeed remember his father’s wake an’ funeral well--ould Risthard Kelly of Tamlaght--a dacent corpse he made for his years, an’ well he looked. But indeed I _knewn_ by the colour that sted in his checks, an’ the limbs remainin’ soople for the twenty-four hours afther his departure, that some of the family ’ud follow him afore the year was out: an’ so she did. The youngest daughter, poor thing, by raison of a could she got, over-heatin’ herself at a dance, was stretched beside him that very day was eleven months; and God knows it was from the heart my grief came for _her_--to see the poor handsome colleen laid low so soon. But when a gallopin’ consumption sets in, avourneen, sure we all know what’s to happen. In Crockaniska churchyard they sleep--the Lord make both their beds in heaven this day!” The very reverse of this, but at the same time as inveterately professional, was Rose Moan. “God save you, Rose.” “God save you kindly, avick. Eh!--let me look at you. Aren’t you red Billy M’Guirk’s son from Ballagh?” “I am, Rose. An’, Rose, how is yourself an’ the world gettin’ an?” “Can’t complain, dear, in such times. How are yez all at home, alanna?” “Faix, middlin’ well, Rose, thank God an’ you.--You heard of my granduncle’s death, big Ned M’Coul?” “I did, avick, God rest him. Sure it’s well I remimber his weddin’, poor man, by the same atoken that I know one that helped him on wid it a thrifle. He was married in a blue coat and buckskins, an’ wore a scarlet waistcoat that you’d see three miles off. Oh, well I remimber it. An’ whin he was settin’ out that mornin’ to the priest’s house, ‘Ned,’ says I, an’ I fwhishspered him, ‘dhrop a button on the right knee afore you get the words said.’ ‘_Thighum_,’ said he, wid a smile, an’ he slipped ten thirteens into my hand as he spoke. ‘I’ll do it,’ said he, ‘and thin a fig for the fairies!’--becase you see if there’s a button of the right knee left unbuttoned, the fairies--this day’s Friday, God stand betune us and harm!--can do neither hurt nor harm to sowl or body, an’ sure that’s a great blessin’, avick. He left two fine slips o’ girls behind him.” “He did so--as good-lookin’ girls as there’s in the parish.” “Faix, an’ kind mother for them, avick. She’ll be marryin’ agin, I’m judgin’, she bein’ sich a fresh good-lookin’ woman.” “Why, it’s very likely, Rose.”