thought of selling his single cow, thinking that by redoubled exertion
he might after a while be enabled to repurchase her; forgetting, that
before the cow was sold was really the time to make the exertion. A
circumstance that greatly damped his ardor in this design was the
idea of his wife's not acquiescing in it; and one evening, as they sat
together by the light of the wood and turf fire, he thus opened his
mind--

"Ellen, asthore, its myself that's sorry I haven't a fine large cabin,
and a power o' money, to make you happier an' comfortabler than you
are."

"Owen," she interrupted, "don't you know I'm very happy? an' didn't
I often tell you, that it was the will of Providence that we shud be
poor'? So it's sinful to be wishin' for riches."

"Bud, Ellen acushla, it's growi'n' worse wid us every day; an' I'm
afeard the trouble is goin' to come on us. You know how hard the
master's new agint is--how he sould Paddy Murphy's cow, an' turned him
out, bekase he couldn't pay his rint; an' I'm afeard I'll have to sell
_Black Bess_,' to prevint his doin' the same wid us."

"Well, Owen agra, we mustn't murmur for our disthresses; so do whatever
you think right--times won't be always as they are now."

"Bud, Ellen," said he, "you're forgettin' how you'll miss the dhrop ov
milk, an' the bit of fresh butter, fur whin we part wid the poor baste,
you won't have even thim to comfort you."

"Indeed, an' iv I do miss them, Owen," she answered, "shure it's no