Only an Irish Boy; Or, Andy Burke's Fortunes. Alger Horatio Jr.
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wood for us, too."
"Just so."
"I think we must be kind to him, sister."
"Just so. He won't try to kiss you, Priscilla," said Sophia, with a sudden thought.
"You are a goose, sister," said Priscilla.
"Just so," assented the other, from force of habit.
In due time dinner was ready, and Andy was summoned from the woodpile. He was in nowise sorry for the summons. He had a hearty appetite at all times, and just now it was increased by his unrequited labor in turning the grindstone for Deacon Jones, as well as by the half-hour he had spent at his new task.
The Misses Grant did their own work, as I have before observed. They were excellent cooks, and the dinner now upon the table, though plain, was very savory and inviting. Andy's eyes fairly danced with satisfaction as they rested on the roast beef and vegetables, which emitted an odor of a highly satisfactory character. At the farmer's where he had last worked, the table had been plentifully supplied, but the cooking was very rudimentary.
"Sit down, Andrew," said Miss Priscilla. "I think that is your name."
"They call me 'Andy,' ma'am."
"That means Andrew. Shall I give you some meat?"
"Thank you, ma'am."
"Will you have it rare or well done?"
"Well done, ma'am. I have it rare enough, anyhow."
"Sophia, Andrew has made a joke," said Priscilla, with a decorous smile.
"Just so, Priscilla," and Sophia smiled also.
"I suppose your family has been reduced to poverty, Andrew, or you would not be seeking employment of this character?"
"True for you, ma'am," said Andy, with his mouth full.
"How was your family property lost?"
"Faith, ma'am, by speculation," said Andy, hazarding a guess.
"That is very sad. Sophia, we must never speculate."
"Just so, Priscilla."
"Or we might lose all our money."
"And have to saw wood for a living," said Sophia, with another brilliant idea.
Andy was so amused at the picture thus suggested that he came near choking, but recovered himself, after a violent attack of coughing.
"I am afraid, Sophia, we should scarcely make a living in that way," said Priscilla, with a smile.
"Just so," acquiesced her sister.
"How long have you been in this country, Andrew?"
"Six years, ma'am."
Andy kept at work industriously. His appetite proved to be quite equal to the emergency, but his evident enjoyment of the dinner only gratified the ladies, who, though eccentric, were kind-hearted, and not in the least mean.
"What will I do, ma'am?" asked our hero.
"You may go on sawing wood."
So Andy resumed work, and worked faithfully during the afternoon. By this time there was a large pile of wood ready for the stove.
At half-past four Miss Priscilla appeared at the door.
"Andrew," she said.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Do you feel tired?"
"A little, ma'am."
"Does your mother know where you are?"
"No, ma'am."
"Would you like to go home and tell her?"
"Yes, ma'am, I would."
"You can go now or after supper, as you prefer."
"Then I'll go now."
"But remember, we want you to come back and sleep here. We do not feel safe without a man in the house."
Andy felt rather flattered at being referred to as a man.
"I'll be back any time you name, ma'am," he said.
"Then be here at nine o'clock."
"Very well, ma'am."
Andy put on his coat and hurried home. He wanted to tell his mother and Mary the good news about his engagement at such unexpected good wages.
Mrs. Burke looked up inquiringly as he entered the house.
"Where have you been, Andy?" she asked. "I thought I had lost you."
"You don't lose me so easy, mother. Shure, I've been at work."
"At work?"
"Yes—I've got a place."
"What, already? You are lucky, Andy."
"You'll think so, mother. How much do you think I get besides board, mind?"
"A dollar a week?"
"What do you say to three dollars?"
"You're a lucky boy, Andy. I'm glad for you."
"What do you say to five dollars a week, mother?" asked Andy, in exultation.
"You're jokin' now, Andy," said his sister. "I don't believe you've got a place at all."
"I have, thin, and it's five dollars a week I'm to get. Ask the ould maids I'm workin' for."
"The Miss Grants?"
"I expect so. They're mighty queer old ladies. One of 'm is always sayin' 'just so.'"
"That is Miss Sophia Grant."
"Just so," said Andy, mimicking her.
"You mustn't do that, Andy. Then it's them you're workin' for?"
"Yes, and they're mighty kind. I'm goin' back to sleep there to-night.
They want a man to purtect them."
Mary laughed.
"Do you call yourself a man, Andy? What could you do if a burglar tried to get in?"
"I'd give him what Paddy did the drum," said Andy.
"Supper is ready," announced his mother.
It was a cheerful meal. Andy had done much better than his mother expected, and it seemed likely that they would get along in spite of her being discharged by Mrs. Preston.
CHAPTER VIII THE MIDNIGHT ALARM
"It's time for me to be goin' back," said Andy, as the clock indicated twenty minutes to nine.
"I wish you could sleep at home, Andy," said his mother.
"They want me to purtect them," said our hero, with a little importance. "I'll pack my clothes in a handkerchief."
"I've got a little carpetbag," said his mother. "That looks more respectable. When you have earned enough money, you must have a new suit of clothes."
"How much will they cost, mother?"
"I think we can get a cheap suit for fifteen or twenty dollars. When you have got the money, we will call on the tailor and see."
"Shure, I'll feel like a gentleman with a suit like that."
"Mary, go and get the carpetbag. I've packed Andy's clothes all ready for him."
Mary soon reappeared with the carpetbag, and Andy set out on his return.
Presently, as the clock struck nine, he knocked at the door of the Misses Grant. The elder opened the door for him.
"You are punctual, Andrew," she said, approvingly.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Are those your clothes?" pointing to the bag he carried.
"What few I've got, ma'am. I'm goin' to buy some more when I've got money enough."
"That is right. We want you to look respectable."
"Just so," remarked Sophia, who felt that it was time for her to speak.
Then a brilliant idea