The Argosy — page 345: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

** Kitlings for his Reverence.”’ 329 dog-cart beside his host. ‘‘ Where is your husband ?” he asked. “I saw you lift my portmanteau—too heavy for you.” “Not at all, sir; not at all. Ned’s away, doing an errand for the master.” “ Ah! Please give him this from me,” handing her a small packet, which, when opened, was seen to contain half a sovereign. Matty’s smile broadened on making this discovery, and she muttered : “‘’ Deed he’s a decent gentleman—very decent—’deed and troth it’s a pity to frighten the likes o’ him: but sure his reverence has the innocent wit, an’ sure Ned de to do what his reverence bids him.” ‘ A quaint old soul, Matty,” remarked Mr. St. John, as they drove off. ‘I had been told of the drollery of Irish servants. I presume she and her husband are trustworthy—not Land Leaguers? They won’t betray you, Williamson ?” “Tand Leaguers! Betrayme! MHa,ha! If they could but hear you, my good fellow! They are Orange to the back-bone. Matty hates a Papist like poison, and if Ned does not go quite so far, it is because of his bonhomie and sense of humour ; for he is a droll dog, I assure you.” ‘Where is he to-day ?” ‘Oh, he is employed upon a little secret service for me. By the way (hastily turning the conversation), I have known Matty longer than Ned. She was my sole domestic when I first tcok up house. I had to leave home for a fortnight on one occasion, and I found she was afraid to stay alone in the house. I tried to get a Protestant woman to keep her company during my absence, but could only find a Roman Catholic. Here was a dilemma. I called the two women before me, and addressed them solemnly, begging them to be good friends, and advising them, in furtherance of that end, not to men- tion the subject of religion during the fortnight. A week, ten days, twelve days, were passed in the greatest amity, but on the thirteenth the Roman Catholic could restrain herself no longer. ‘¢¢ There’s one thing I’m sure of,’ she said, ‘ King William’s in the bad place.’ ‘“‘* That canna be,’ replied Matty, promptly: ‘I always heered tell that the bad place was so full of popes that there’d be nae room for him.’ Ready of Matty, was it not ?” Mr. St. John gave a dry chuckle, without appreciation in it. In fact he did not enjoy driving on Irish roads, and was secretly con- gratulating himself that he would soon take a final leave of the- dangerous country. ‘There are as strong Protestants as Matty in my parish,” the Rector proceeded. ‘“ For instance, there’s a shoemaker who mends my boots. He assures me that ‘Catholics do very well for soles, but it is a mistake to put them in for spfers.’ Said cobbler has a fund of dry humour and apt illustration at his command.” “There must be an immensity of bad feeling among you," said VOL, XLVII. EOMRRIC OOO SS (GO) i