20 GARRYOWEN 



This question brought Moriarty back from his 

 reverie and he rose to his feet. 



" Come along," said he, taking the donkey's 

 reins; "it's moidhered you'll be gettin' with the 

 Bun on your head and you without a hat." 



"I'm going to have a governess," said the 

 child; " she's coming this day week, and she's 

 forty years old — what'll she be like, do you think, 

 Moriarty? " 



" Faith," said the evader of questions, " it's I 

 that am thinkin' she won't be like a rosebud." 



Miss French drew a letter from the pocket of 

 her sku^t as Moriarty led the donkey towards the 

 path. It was a letter written purposely in a large 

 round hand that a child could easily read; each 

 character was nearly printed, and though the con- 

 tents were simple enough, the thing spoke volumes 

 about the good heart of the sender. 



Mr French was in Dublin, but every day during 

 his absence he wrote his little daughter a letter hke 

 this. A pleasant trait in a man living in a world 

 the key-note of which is forge tfulness of the absent. 

 The child read out the letter as Moriarty guided 

 the donkey down the steep hill path. 



It was a funny letter; it began as though Mr 

 French were writing to a child, it went on as 

 though he were writing to an adult, and it finished 

 as though the age of his correspondent had just 

 occurred to him. It told of what he was doing in 

 town, of a visit to Mr Legge, the family solicitor, 

 and of bother about money matters. 



