asked, followed the herring?

Alarmed, lest at this I might take offense, Mrs. Farrell
interrupted him.

"The Fletchers and O'Farrells of Youghal she exclaimed, "were
gentry. What would they be doing in a trawler?"

I assured her that so far as I knew, 1750 being before my time,
they might have been smugglers and pirates.

"All I ever heard of the Farrells," I told her, begins after they
settled in New York. And there is no one I can ask concerning them.
My father and mother are dead; all my father's relatives are dead,
and my mother's relatives are as good as dead. I mean," I added,
"we don't speak!"

To my surprise, this information appeared to afford my visitors
great satisfaction. They exchanged hasty glances.

"Then," exclaimed Mr. Farrell, eagerly; "if I understand you, you
have no living relations at all--barring those that are dead!"

"Exactly!" I agreed.

He drew a deep sigh of relief. With apparent irrelevance but with
a carelessness that was obviously assumed, he continued.

"Since I come to America," he announced, "I have made heaps of
money. "As though in evidence of his prosperity, he flashed the