ter's heart. His own son disappointed the Deemster. He seemed to have no joy in him. Ewan was quiet, and his father thought him a milksop. There was more tha

chuckle and shake, and roll his head between his shoulders, then give the boy a slap on his hindmost part, accompanied

to the deaf man. Now, Hommy was a gaunt, raw-boned man, dressed in a rough blue jacket and a short gray petticoat. His full and proper name was now quite lost. He was known as Hommy-beg, sometimes as Hommy-beg-Bill, a name which at once embodied a playful allusion to his great physique, and a certain genealogical rec

" said the young rogue, who spoke the homespun to the life. "Aw, dea

is it? And never a whiff of a

he flowers, it's the

'll do. And blind

of her! And, man alive, the fond she is of you! A fine sort of a man a

aely ma

ll, and who but you do

ing, asto

ort and take a cup

his head. "Is it rar

rascal went back to Bishop's Court, lighted upon blind Kerry, and en

see him in his Sunday hat, or maybe with a frill on his shirt,

lolly-boy in t

is for all, and, bless me, Kerr

ead that comes singin

en he comes beside of you. You wouldn't believe it! And, bless me, the rael bad h

mane it, Dan

th a peony as big as a March cabbage in his fist. The end of it all was that Kerry and Hommy-beg were forthwith asked in church. Wild

mnly proclaimed from the reading-desk, he tittered audibly in his pew. "Danny was tired of the woman's second sight-found it inconvenient, very-wanted to be rid of her

the last twenty years Hommy-beg, the gardener, and Mr. James Quirk, the schoolmaster, had officiated as singers in the strange Manx ritual. Great had hitherto been the rivalry between these musical celebrities, but word had gone round th

of it in his hand. Of course, Mr. Quirk, the schoolmaster, could read, but, as we have seen, he resem

said he, "it's morthal strange the way a man of your common-sense can't see that you'd wallop that squeaking ould Jemmy Quirk in a jiffy if you'

ving his advantage, the young rascal continued, "Do it at the Oiel Verree

ener frowned austerely. "Me sing s

consented to the proposal; but one idea was firmly rooted in his mind-namely, that if he was to sing a carol with the schoolmaster, he must take the best of care

, and "Jemmy," he said, "it's morthal strange the way a man of your common-sense can't see that you'd wallop that squeaking old Hommy-beg in a jiffy if you'd only consent to si

en. A carol was selected; it was to be the ancient Manx carol on the bad women

he mantelpiece, just under the pendulum of the clock with the facetious face. It resembled the other prints in being worn, cru

ken down the carol that had been pinned above the mantelpiece, and fixed up another in place of it from the opposite side of the room. The substituted carol happened, oddly enough, to be a second copy of the carol on "Bad Women," with this radical difference: the copy taken from unde

p had turned them off to bed. Danny's bedroom was the little crib over the library, and Ewan's was the room over that. All three bade the Bishop good-night and went into their rooms. But Danny did not go to bed; he listened until he heard the Bishop in the library twisting his chair and stirring the peats, and then he whipped off his boots and crept upstairs to Ewan's room. There in bated breath he told of

he young women went up into the gallery, and from that elevation they shot down at their bachelor friends large handfuls of peas. To what ancient spirit of usage, beyond the ancient spirit of mischief, the strange pr

he expression on his face was not at the moment one of peculiar grace, and he stopped the gardener and said sharp

's, I'm thinkin'," said Hommy-beg

norant as goats," sai

erd, so just make sheeps of them,

d to be ready, and Will-as-Thorn, the clerk, had taken his station inside the communion rail, the business of the Oiel Verree began. First one man got up and sung a ca

ch other with severe looks, stepped out of their pews, and walked down the aisle to the door o

ause of both. "Hush, hush, man alive, that's him, that's him." "Bless me, look at Hommy-beg and the petticut,

ment to keep order and silence. "Hush

er each verse the carol singers should take a long stride toward the communion. By the time the carol

irk. As for Hommy-beg, he looked, at this last instant, like a

hispered a girl in the gallery to

it with the air of a conductor taking a final look at his score, nodded his head at it as if in approval, and then, with a magnanimous gesture, held it b

ush," whispered Danny from his pew; "hush, man

s not the carol for which he had been told by Master Danny to prepare. They were, by arrangement, to have sung the English version of "Bad Women." This was the Manx version, and though the metre was the same, it was always sung to a different tune. Ah! Mr. Qu

m-grinnin' together like a pair

sion of "Bad Women." Mr. Quirk sang the carol they held in their hands-the Manx version of "Bad Women." Neither heard the other, and t

m the day

ief you m

ther Mr. Q

a'n voir a

e da Ad

shrieks! How the young fellows in the body made the sacred edifice ring with guffaws! But

er and shouting of the people ceased. All eyes had turned toward the porch. There the Bishop stoo

ttered on the book-rail. The Bishop turned about, and before the people had recovered from their surprise he was gone. At the next moment everybody got up without a word and left the church. In two

churchyard from a meadow on the north, and struck upon a path that went round to Bishop's Court by way of the cliff-head. The path was a long one, but it was lonesome, and i

rolling on the sand below came up to him through the dense air. Late as was the hour, he could hear the little sandpiper screaming at Orris Head.

barking their nets on the shore. And that night the ghostly memories would arise, do what he might to keep them down. To banish them Danny began to whistle, and, failing to enliven himself much by that

aine, where go

you have l

Curragh, deep

, and void

ny peered in at the curtainless window. The familiar room was empty. On the hearth a turf fire burned without flame, and bathed the book-encased walls in a rosy red. The Bishop's easy-chair, in its white covering, stood at one side of the ingle, his slippers in front of i

nly vanished. In a lad's vague way Danny now realized that it had not been merely because the night was dark and the road lonely that he h

e his way in that room. He knew every crib and corner; the place where he kept his fishing lines, the nail from which his moth-net hung, the bottle on the drawers in which he had his minnows, and the can with the lid well down that contained the newts that were the terror of all the women in

or a moment he thought it might have been Derry that had pushed open the door. But the dog's snout could not have turned down the counterpane of the bed, or opened the top drawer that held the fishing flies, or rummaged among the long rods in the corner. T

close, and a familiar step pass through the hall. The Bishop had returned. Danny waited and listened. Now there was talking in the library. Danny's quick ear could scarcely distinguish the words, but the voices he could not mistake-they were the voices of the Bishop and blind Kerry. With a stealthy stride Danny went up to Ewan's room. Ewan was sleeping. Feeling hot and cold together, Danny un

t, as was his wont, by putting on his cap. He had got this length, and was standing in cap and shirt, when he blurted out the mischief of last night's adventure, the singing, the sudden appearance of the Bishop, the race home along the cliff, and the coming up to bed. "But you won't let on, Ewan, will you?" he said. Ewa

d you not sleep in your o

, father," Danny a

re then, and they all

ether?" he said, and, with a dig of emphasis

d, and his tongue fa

aid, in another tone, "would you thi

then most intent

emly riot at the Oiel Verree, and all night long I have been sor

at Danny must be punished. The boy's wise head could see no way out of a tangle like that. The breakfast was the quietest ever eaten on a Christmas morning at Bishop's Court, and, little as the talking was, the Bishop, strangely enough, did it all. But when they rose from the table, and the boys slunk out of the room wit

ast night-I know it, child, I know it," said

the steep of life, and left a little ghost of his child-self behind him,