"
Mrs. Ginniss was alone, so that one might at first have been a
little puzzled to know whom she addressed as "honey;" but as she
continued to talk while unfolding another shirt, and laying it upon
her ironing-board, it became evident that she was addressing the
absent owner of the garments.
"And sure it's many a maner man they've made their prisidints out
on, and sorra a better one they'd find betune here and Canady. It's
yees that have the free hand and the kind way wid yees, for all your
grand looks. The good Lord save and keep ye all the days of yer
life!"
A wrinkle in the wristband here absorbed the attention of the
laundress; and, while smoothing it out, she forgot to continue what
she had been saying, but, as she once more ironed briskly upon the
sleeve, began upon a new subject.
"And it's late ye're agin, Teddy Ginniss, bad 'cess to yees! And
thin it's mesilf that should take shame for saying it; for niver a
b'y of them all is so good to his ould mother, and niver a one of
'em all that his mother's got so good a right to be proud on, as
Ted. But where is the cratur? His supper's cowld as charity wid
stannin."
At this moment a heavy step was heard upon the stairs, as of some
one climbing slowly up with a heavy burden in his arms.
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