schoolmaster, good man, has let me off the cow. Ye see, darlin', I
towld him ye wos buildin' a palace in the say, to put ships in afther
they wos wrecked on the coast of Ameriky, so ye couldn't be expected
to send home much money at prisint. An' he just said, 'Well, well,
Kathleen, you may just kaip the cow, and pay me whin ye can'. So put
that off yer mind, my swait Ned.

"'I'm sorry to hear the Faries rowls so bad, though what the Faries
mains is more nor I can tell.' (I spelled the word quite krect, lads,
but my poor mistress hain't got the best of eyesight.) 'Let me know
in yer nixt, an' be sure to tell me if Long Forsyth has got the
bitter o' say-sickness. I'm koorius about this, bekaise I've got a
receipt for that same that's infallerable, as his Riverence says.
Tell him, with my luv, to mix a spoonful o' pepper, an' two o' salt,
an' wan o' mustard, an' a glass o' whisky in a taycup, with a
sprinklin' o' ginger; fill it up with goat's milk, or ass's, av ye
can't git goat's; hait it in a pan, an' drink it as hot as he
can--hotter, if possible. I niver tried it meself, but they say it's
a suverin' remidy; and if it don't do no good, it's not likely to do
much harm, bein' but a waik mixture. Me own belaif is, that the
milk's a mistake, but I suppose the doctors know best.

"'Now, swaitest of men, I must stop, for Neddy's just come in howlin'
like a born Turk for his tay; so no more at present from, yours till
deth,

"'KATHLEEN O'CONNOR.'"

"Has she any sisters?" enquired Joe Dumsby eagerly, as Ned folded the
letter and replaced it in his pocket.