Whether he meant the patriot or the pippin it might be difficult to
determine. This, however, is but a specimen of their conversation.
Then in the end she would produce the ripest and rosiest of her
stock--which she had been keeping for him all the while,--and, leaving
a penny in her palm, he would hurry away in order to reach St. Francis'
School before the bell rang.

This particular afternoon, when he had helped her over the worst part
of the way, she glanced uneasily at the can which he carried, and said:

"Faith, Masther Tom, it's afraid I am that they'll be waitin' at home
for the milk ye were sent for. Sure I wouldn't want ye to be blamed
for not makin' haste, avick! An' all because of yer doin' a kindly
turn for a poor old woman."

"No fear of that, ma'am," answered Tom, confidently. "There is no
hurry; the milk won't be needed till supper time."

Then, noticing that she was tired and panting for breath, he took out
the stopper and held the can toward her, saying impulsively,

"Have a drink, Missis Barry,--yes, it will do you good."

A suspicious moisture dimmed the widow's faded eyes for a moment, and
her heart gave a throb of grateful surprise at the child's ingenuous
friendliness; but she drew back with a deprecating gesture, saying,

"Well, well, Masther Tom, ye're the thoughtfullest young gentleman that
ever I see! An' I'm sure I thank ye kindly. It isn't for the likes of
me to be tellin' ye what is right an' proper, but what would yer mother