Let her do her own ironin', the ould spalpeen!" In general, Andy's speech was tolerably clear of the brogue, but whenever he became a little excited, as at present, it was more marked.

He was more angry at the slight to his mother than he would have been at anything, however contemptuous, said to himself.

He had that chivalrous feeling of respect for his mother which every boy of his age ought to have, more especially if that mother is a widow.
"But, Andy, I'm very sorry for the money I'll lose." "How much is it, mother ?" "Seventy-five cents." "I'll make it up, mother." "I know you will if you can, Andy; but work is hard to get, and the pay is small." "You might go back and tell Mrs.Preston that I'm a dirty spalpeen, and maybe she'd take you back, mother." "I wouldn't slander my own boy like that if she'd take me back twenty times." "That's the way to talk, mother," said Andy, well pleased.

"Don't you be afeared--we'll get along somehow.

More by token, here's three dollars I brought home with me yisterday." Andy pulled out from his pocket six silver half-dollars, and offered them to his mother.
"Where did you get them, Andy ?" she asked, in surprise.
"Where did I get them?
One way and another, by overwork.