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 of the house, who, roused from her cat-sleep by the unwonted noise, surlily called to know "what all the racket meant." Lucy stopped and respectfully explained. "La, it's only a cold," replied Mrs. Broadson; "the Irish are always scared out of their wits—it's hard we can't be allowed to sleep when there's only two of us!" and she closed the door, thinking it was no further her concern than as it invaded her comfort. Judy was immersed in the bath and the physician called; and his prescriptions harmonizing with the restoratives Lucy had advised, Judy was speedily relieved. "Bless the sweet eyes of ye, Lucy," said Bridget, "you it was that saved her to me, and I it was that wronged ye; but true as the word stands in the Holy Bible, I thought that, as St. Paul says, I had the right of it. But ye will be after forgiving me when ye know all the bad luck that's broken my heart. We were but five of us in Ireland, and that was before Mike, God rest his soul, was killed fighting with the rebellion-ruffian about the cow that kept poor Judy's breath in her, for her mother's husband, that was to be, was taken off for a soldier, and so she fretted herself to death for that it was, and not borning the baby that killed her; and then the old gentleman—my father that was, was took off to the Limerick jail for Mike's business, and the boys got him out, and hid him in the rocks up the country, and there of hardship, and starvation, and fretting, and the like, he died. My own father it was, Lucy, and he that had a kind word for even the dog at his door; and then my mother, ah! her heart was always bending like, not breaking, went to live with her sister's son's wife, and Judy with