CHAPTER VI


The next morning Pat stepped out into the kitchen and donned his apron
in a downcast mood. The uplift of his mother's praise had passed, and
the fact remained that to-day he was to go out to service like a girl.
The little boys were up and stowed here and there waiting for breakfast.
Some little boys cannot be kept in bed mornings as long as their elders
could wish, and the widow's little boys were of that kind.

"Get up, if you want to," was Mrs. O'Callaghan's counsel to her youngest
sons, "but see to it you don't get under Pat's feet. Nayther must you be
runnin' out doors, for Moike to be haulin' you in when breakfast's
ready."

These orders shut the little fellows into a narrow space, and they were
always eager for the morning meal to be over. Andy and Jim were not in
such a hurry to rise, having reached the age when boys need a deal of
persuasion to get them up.

"They'll be along in a minute," thought the widow. "Here comes Moike."

[Illustration: "Pat donned his apron."]

Along they were in a minute, as their mother had predicted. The little
woman was fond of effect. "There's toimes when it's the thing to spake