A TERRIFYING GOOD WISH 



so. Once when we were stranded at a small wayside 

 station in Ireland, without even a bench to sit upon, he 

 began to while away the time by testing his weight on the 

 automatic machine. The indicating needle travelled consi- 

 derably further than he expected ! He was standing, trans- 

 fixed, staring at the pointing finger, when a very old woman 

 with a shawl over her head, holding a very small boy by 

 the hand, suddenly broke into loud paeans beside him : 

 "God bless your honour ! Isn't it the grand gentleman 

 you are ! Glory be to God, may you grow larger, and 

 larger, and larger ! " 



"For heaven's sake/' cried Loki's Grandfather, wheeling 

 round in horror, " don't say such a thing ! " 

 " And indeed I do, yer honour. Look at him now," she 

 went on, shaking the little creature she held by the hand, 

 " you'll never see a finer gentleman. Don't you wish you 

 had a Dada like that?" 



Then she burst out again and continued to wish him 

 increase in Sybilline tones. They were both so extra- 

 ordinarily serious, she in her benisons, he in his terror of 

 the curse, that as Loki's Grandmother sat on her trunk 

 she was weak with laughter. 



The Master of the Villino had a charming little experience 

 last spring. Some time before, in the winter, he fell into 

 conversation with an old sweep, who was tramping up the 

 hill, the evidence of his life-work thick upon him. They 

 discoursed of many things, for the sweep had a wide range 

 of interests. They spoke of the moorland place as it was 

 in bygone days/ and of the learned Professor whose 



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