"I'm surprised at you, Mary," said Frederica, indignantly, "You ought
to have more sense than to repeat such rubbish!"

To this reproach, Mrs. Twomey responded with a long and jubilant crow
of laughter.

"Yerra, gerr'l alive--!" she corrected herself quickly. "My lady
alive, I should say--sure a little thing like me'd tell lies as fast
as a hen'd pick peas!"

The modesty, as well as the accuracy, of this statement silenced Miss
Coppinger for a moment.

"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" she resumed with much
severity. "It is amazing to me how a decent, respectable little woman
like you can not only tell lies, but boast of it!"

"Ah ha! I'm the same owld three and fourpince, an' will be till I
die!" triumphed Mrs. Twomey, with another screech of laughter,
removing her tiny person, her milk-pail, and her stool from under the
cow. "An' I won't be long dyin'!" another screech; "an' it won't take
many to carry me to Cunnock-a-Ceoil Churchyard!"

A final and prolonged burst of mirth succeeded this announcement,
during which the unrepentant Three and Fourpence swung the pail on to
the hook of the swinging-balance for weighing the milk that was Miss
Coppinger's latest and most detested innovation.

"Look at that now what she has for you, Miss! Shixteen pints! An' I'll