Mike smiled with satisfaction and reached for the broom. His mother said nothing, but not a move escaped her critical eye. As far as the beds could be moved, they were moved, and around them and under them went Mike's busy broom. Mike was warm-blooded, and it was a pretty red-faced boy that stood at last before his mother with the dustpan in his hand. There was strong approval on the little woman's face. "Pat himsilf couldn't 'a' beat that. It's my belafe you've got a gift for swapin'," she said. "I can leave home to go to my washin' with an aisy mind, I see, and with no fears of chance callers foindin' dirty floors and mussy-lookin' beds a-disgracin' me. If widows is iver lucky, which I doubt, Moike, I'm lucky this far. I've got some wonderful foine sons, so I have." Mike, at this, beamed with the consciousness that he was one of the sons and a fully appreciated one, too. A long time he had stood in the shadow of Pat's achievements. This morning he was showing what he could do. "This permotion is pretty foine," said Mrs. O'Callaghan. "Moike, my b'y, you have stepped up aisy loike a gintleman into Pat's place, and now let's see you cook." Mike looked crestfallen at once. "I can't cook, mother," he said. "Not the least in the world. Often and often I've watched Pat, but I never could get the hang of it." The widow was silent a moment, "Well, then!" she cried, "you've got the hang of bein' an honest b'y, and not pretindin' to do what you can't do, and that's better as bein' the best cook in the world. Niver do you pretind, Moike, not because there's always somebody about to foind you out, but because pretindin's mean. I'd have no pride left in me if I could think I had a pretindin' b'y about the house. And now, Moike, I'll teach you to cook. It's my belafe you can larn it. Why, Pat didn't know nothin' about it when he begun, and now he can cook meat and potatoes and such better as many a doless girl I've seen. You think Pat's cookin' tastes pretty good, don't you, Moike?" "I do, mother," said Mike earnestly and without a tinge of jealousy in his tone. He loved and admired Pat with all his heart. "You can larn it, too, if you only think so," encouraged Mrs. O'Callaghan.