broke. He did not want her to see his emotion. He answered with a
half-laugh, half-sob:

"Thinkin' about, is it? It's ashamed I am of ye to be frightened by
a few little flashes of lightnin' and the beautiful, grand thundher
that always kapes it company. It's ashamed I am of ye--that's what I
am!" He spoke almost roughly to hide his emotion and he furtively
wiped the tears from his face so that she should not see them.

"It's not the lightnin' I'm afraid of, father," said Peg solemnly.
"It's the thundher. It shrivels me up, that's what it does."

"The thundher, is it? Sure that's only the bluff the storm puts up
when the rale harm is done by the lightnin's flash. There is no harm
in the thundher at all. And remember, after all, it's the will of
God."

Peg thought a moment:

"It always sounds just as if He were lookin' down at us and firin'
off cannons at us because He's angry with us."

O'Connell said nothing. Presently he felt her small hand creep into
his:

"Father," said Peg; "are yez ralely ashamed of me when I'm
frightened like that?"

O'Connell was afraid to unbend lest he broke down altogether. So he
continued in a voice of mock severity: