"And that's a heavy sign, Father Bernard."

"The surest sign in the world that they have no money among them at
all, at all. And it is bad with thim, Mrs. O'Dwyer,--very bad, very
bad indeed."

"Glory be to God, the poor cratures!" said the soft-hearted lady.
"It isn't much the like of us have to give away, Father Bernard; I
needn't be telling you that. But we'll help, you know,--we'll help."

"And so will father, uncle Bernard. If you're so bad off about here
I know he'll give you a thrifle for the asking." In a short time,
however, it came to pass that those in the cities could spare no aid
to the country. Indeed it may be a question whether the city poverty
was not the harder of the two.

"God bless you both--you've soft hearts, I know." And Father Barney
put his punch to his lips. "Whatever you can do for me shall not be
thrown away. And I'll tell you what, Mrs. O'Dwyer, it does behove us
all to put our best foot out now. We will not let them say that the
Papists would do nothing for their own poor."

"'Deed then an' they'll say anything of us, Father Bernard. There's
nothing too hot or too heavy for them."

"At any rate let us not deserve it, Mrs. O'Dwyer. There will be a
lot of them at Gortnaclough to-morrow, and I shall tell them that
we, on our side, won't be wanting. To give them their due, I must
say that they are working well. That young Herbert Fitzgerald's a