"Well, Jim," said his mother finally, "you do be grinnin' foine ivery toime you come in, and a lot of wet you're bringin' with you, too, a-stampin' the snow off on the floor. You'll remimber that toimes are changed. Wanst it was old men as had the rheumatism, but now b'ys can have it, to say nothin' of colds and sore throats and doctors' bills. You'll stay in now. The snow can deepen without you, I'm thinkin'." Thus admonished, Jim went with a bad grace to wash his hands, and then to set the table for supper. Presently in came Pat. "Where's the clothes basket, mother?" he inquired. "I'll be bringing in the clothes from the line for you." Mrs. O'Callaghan handed him the basket with a smile, and out went Mr. Farnham's newest clerk to the summer kitchen, under whose roof the line was stretched in parallel lengths. "I couldn't be dryin' the clothes in the house with no place to put 'em, but the new kitchen's the thing, so 'tis," the mother had said. "Clothes will dry there famous, 'specially when it's rainin' or snowin'. Pat and Moike did a good thing when they made it. I've heard tell of them as has dryin' rooms for winter, and 'tis mysilf has wan of 'em." These were the words that had caused Pat to smile with pleasure, and had stirred Mike's heart with determination to do yet more for his mother. And that same evening the widow's sturdy second son came to the shanty, and behind him on the snow bumped and slid his newest handiwork--a sled for Larry to ride on. "And what have you got there?" asked Mrs. O'Callaghan when he dragged it into the house. "A sled!" cried Barney and Tommie together, pausing on their bedward way, and opening wide their sleepy eyes. "And 'twas mysilf was wonderin' how to get Larry along with me!" exclaimed the mother when Mike had explained the object of the sled. "What's the good of me wonderin' when I've got Moike for my b'y? 'Twas his father as would have made a sled jist loike it, I'm thinkin'. But Moike," as she saw the light of affection in his eyes, "you'll be spoilin' me. Soon I'll not be wonderin' any more, but I'll be sayin', 'Moike will fix it some way.'" "Will you, mother?" cried the boy. "Will you promise me that?" "Moike! Moike!" said the widow, touched by his eager look and tone, "what a b'y you are for questions! Would I be layin' all my burdens on you, when it's six brothers you've got? 'Twouldn't be fair to you. But to know you're so ready and willin' loightens my ivery load, and it's a comfort you are to me. Your father was always for makin' easy toimes for other people, and you're loike him, Moike. And now I've something else to be talkin' of. Will you be havin' the goose for Gineral and Mrs. Brady to-morrow?" "I will, mother," answered Mike respectfully.