IRISH SERVANTS 147 



" You forgot it." 



" I did not forget it, ma'am," with dignity, 

 " but it went out of me head this momin'." 



He gardens in summer, in a manner as strange 

 and successful as his ' caring of hunters.' 



Only yesterday he was looking at the tomato 

 house where the fruit was ripening well, and he told 

 me confidently that sure that was the showery 

 weather that heartened them. 



I looked at the glass roof and suggested the 

 showers did not come through. 



" Well I was towlt it was good," said Cuthbert 

 blandly and still of his own opinion. 



When he fills a box of delicate seedlings and 

 they get the pip and turn over in battahons, you 

 find that he has gathered some very hot manure 

 for the bottom of the box so as to " hearten the 

 bits of plants." 



My horses are his horses, and always spoken of 

 as such. Three years ago I lent two to a lady who 

 came to stay here who was short. 



Any tips are always confided to me immediately, 

 and as I got into the trap at the end of the day 

 and waited while he put a man's saddle on one 

 horse I thought he looked very much put out, so 

 enquired delicately. 



" I would ask her to give me a penny," he 

 burst out, " an' she did it, but she never even said 

 thank you for me two horses." 



The next morning I guessed that I should be 



