CLANCY was reading the news of the convention in the evening paper behind his counter; the rush was over for the night, and he pulled at his pipe contentedly, for O’Hara had failed to keep his threat, and Clancy fancied that his creditor had thought better of it. “Sure, Young Murphy is the b’y for thim,” said Clancy, as he finished the account. It was a McQuirk sheet and lauded that gentleman’s action to the skies. Its story of the convention teemed with such phrases as “Magnificent battle against organized greed,” “Opponent of municipal corruption,” “Able friend of the working class,” etc. “But, divil take thim,” continued the grocer, “yez’d t’ink, from this, that McQuirk done it all.” He adjusted his steel-rimmed glasses and was about to resume his reading when a step sounded upon the floor and a shadow fell across the newspaper; looking up he saw O’Hara. “Good avenin’,” said the visitor. “I wur passin’ an’ t’ought I’d drop in on yez.” “An’ welcome,” said Clancy, but his looks belied his tongue. “Yez towld me this mornin’, Mr. Clancy,” said O’Hara, “that yez could not pay me the troifle av money yez owe me.” “An’ I towld yez the truth.” “On con-sider-rayshun av yez bein’ an ’owld frind av mine,” said O’Hara, “I have daysided till give yez back the note, widout the payin’ av a cint--upon wan condition.” “Give me back me note!” Clancy could not believe his ears. “Upon wan condition,” repeated O’Hara. “An’ wat’s that?” “That yez give yez consint till Annie’s marriage wid young McGonagle.” Clancy looked thunderstruck; he gazed at the other with mingled wonder and anger. “What call have yez till meddle wid me family affairs?” demanded he, indignantly. “An’ what rayson have ye till be pullin’ wid McGonagle?” “Sorra the t’ing hav that till do wid it. Give yez consint, an’ I will give ye a raysate for the money ye owe me the minyute the marriage lines are wrote.” Clancy’s objection to Goose was solely because of his poverty, but a son-in-law with money could do no more than pay off his debt, so the grocer figured it out, and the reluctance with which he at last consented to O’Hara’s proposition was more assumed than real. “The ceremony must take place t’morry,” said O’Hara. “I have no objection till offer,” said Clancy, resignedly. * * * * * THE door bell of Larry’s home at the end of Murphy’s Court kept up an almost constant ringing next morning, and old Mrs. Coogan’s breath grew short through answering the calls. First it was McGonagle and Larkin, dressed in their best, with beaming faces and movements of suppressed excitement. “Everyt’ing’s all to the velvet,” said Goose airily. “The girls have been up and dressed since five o’clock, and Father Dawson’ll do his turn at eleven, sharp.” “Say, Larry,” put in Jimmie, “one bridesmaid’s goin’ to do for both; who d’youse t’ink it is?” “I don’t know,” replied Larry.