an' to the dance, too. Find some one that'll take you off of my hands;
that'll put a house over your head--give you a bit to ait, an' a rag to
put on you; an' may God pity him that's doomed to get you! If the woeful
state of the country, an' the hunger an' sickness that's abroad, an'
that's comin' harder an' faster on us every day, can't tame you or keep
you down, I dunna what will. I'm sure the black an' terrible summer
we've had ought to make you think of how we'll get over all that's
before us! God pity you, I say again, an' whatever poor man is to be
cursed wid you!"

"Keep your pity for them that wants it," replied the other, "an' that's
not me. As for God's pity, it isn't yours to give, and even if it was,
you stand in need of it yourself more than I do. You're beginning
to praich to us now that you're not able to bait us; but for your
praichments an' your baitins, may the divil pay you for all alike!--as
he will--an' that's my prayer."

A momentary gush of the step-mother's habitual passion overcame her; she
darted at her step-daughter, who sprung to her limbs, and flew at her
in return. The conflict at first was brief, for the powerful strength of
the elder female soon told. Sarah, however, quickly disengaged herself,
and seizing an old knife which lay on a shell that served as a dresser,
she made a stab at the very heart of her step-mother, panting as she did
it with an exulting vehemence of vengeance that resembled the growlings
which a savage beast makes when springing on its prey.

"Ha!" she exclaimed, "you have it now--you have it! Call on God's pity
now, for you'll soon want it. Ha! ha!"

The knife, however, owing to the thick layers of cloth with which the