TOM GROGAN
long before? How could she do it now when he had risked his life to save Patsy?
Then she answered firmly, still without turning her head, “No, Jennie; there won't be time. Carl must get ready to”—
Pop laid his hand on hers.
“There's plinty o' toime, Mary. Ye'll git the ladder behint the kitchen door, Carl. I hed it ther' mesilf this mornin'.”
Carl found the ladder, steadied it against the tree, and guided Jennie's little feet till they reached the topmost round, holding on to her skirts so that she should not fall. Above their heads the branches twined and interlaced, shedding their sweetest blossoms over their happy upturned faces. The old man's eyes lightened as he watched them for some moments; then, turning to Tom, his voice full of tenderness, he said:—
“Carl's a foine lad, Mary; ye'll do no better for Jinnie.”
Tom did not answer; her eyes were on the cedars where the crows were flying, black silhouettes against the yellow sky.
“Did I shtop ye an' break yer heart whin ye wint off wid yer own Tom? What wuz he but an honest lad thet loved ye, an' he wid
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