THE DEATH OF SIR TOM 349 
«Sir Tom,” said I, “shall I send for a priest ?” 
« A priest! What could I do with a priest ? 
Me forebears were on the Orange side of Boyne ~ 
_ Water, and we have never changed color.” 
« Would you like to see a clergyman?” 
“No, no; just the grip of a friend’s hand and 
these angels around me. Asking pardon is not 
me long suit, Williams, but perhaps the time has 
come for me to play it. If the good God will be 
kind to me I will thank Him, as a gentleman 
should, and I will take no advantage of His 
kindness; but if He cannot see His way clear to 
do that, I will take what is coming.” 
“Dear Sir Tom,” said Jane, with streaming 
eyes, “God cannot be hard with you, who have 
been so good to every one.” 
«If there’s little harm in me life, there’s but 
scant good, too; I can’t find much credit. Me 
good angel has had an easy time of it, more’s 
the pity; but Janie, if you love me, Le Bon 
Dieu will not be hard on me. He cannot be 
severe with a poor Irishman who never stacked 
the cards, pulled a race, or turned his back on 
a friend, and who is loved by an angel.” 
: I asked Sir Tom what we should do for him 
after he had passed away. 
“It would be foine to sleep in the woods just 
back of Janie’s forge, where I could hear the 
click of her hammer if the days get lonely; but 
there’s a little castle, God save the mark, out 
from Sligo. Me forebears are there, — the lucky 
