in the unsteady hands of Whisky Dick, caused him to sit down again.
He ate the pie, and lost his case likewise, before a Rough-and-
Ready jury.

Indeed, far from exhibiting the cynical doubts and distrusts of
age, Daddy Downey received always with childlike delight the
progress of modern improvement and energy. "In my day, long back
in the twenties, it took us nigh a week--a week, boys--to get up a
barn, and all the young ones--I was one then--for miles 'round at
the raisin'; and yer's you boys--rascals ye are, too--runs up this
yer shanty for Mammy and me 'twixt sun-up and dark! Eh, eh, you're
teachin' the old folks new tricks, are ye? Ah, get along, you!"
and in playful simulation of anger he would shake his white hair
and his hickory staff at the "rascals." The only indication of the
conservative tendencies of age was visible in his continual protest
against the extravagance of the boys. "Why," he would say, "a
family, a hull family,--leavin' alone me and the old woman,--might
be supported on what you young rascals throw away in a single
spree. Ah, you young dogs, didn't I hear about your scattering
half-dollars on the stage the other night when that Eyetalian
Papist was singin'? And that money goes out of Ameriky--ivry
cent!"

There was little doubt that the old couple were saving, if not
avaricious. But when it was known, through the indiscreet
volubility of Mammy Downey, that Daddy Downey sent the bulk of
their savings, gratuities, and gifts to a dissipated and prodigal
son in the East,--whose photograph the old man always carried with
him,--it rather elevated him in their regard. "When ye write to
that gay and festive son o' yourn, Daddy," said Joe Robinson, "send