“Sure, sir, and it’s mesilf that’s afther being exterpretated intirely!  The varmints! faith, there was a dozen, sir, came scratching at me;” and she pointed at the aperture, as if in dread expectation of seeing their ghosts in pursuit; but lo! instead, there was the full, round face of Pat, who, having been left to take up his night’s lodging with the creatures, in the apology for a barn, had espied the light, and not being able to resist the temptation of getting one more glimpse at the “swate Biddy,” he had ventured to look in, and catching a glimpse of her woebegone face from among the shining tins, he exclaimed: 

“Och, honey dear, and has it come to this? that yese obliged to make yese bed of the likes of that!  And if ye’ll wait a bit it’s mesilf that’ll run and fetch some of the nate, saft sthraw, that ye can fill the tins, and ’twill do ye betther; indade, and it’s none but a hathen that could endure the likes of that!”

“Ah!  Pathrick, is it ye? and was ye pint up in there wid the crathurs?”

“Yes, it’s mesilf that will be risting with the bastes, the night,” said Pat, thinking she had alluded to the creatures in the barn; “and I’ll be wishing ye swate dhrames, and a plinty’ of thim;” saying which he disappeared, leaving the trembling Biddy in great anxiety of mind as to what should be his fate.

As the little Winnie peeped out from behind the screen, when they had all retired, and saw Biddy counting her beads, with her eye still fixed upon the spot where she had last seen the smiling Patrick, she laughed outright, in spite of the crevices in the roof overhead, and she laid her down and looked up at the stars which came twinkling in upon her, ’till those great black eyes gradually diminished in size, and her little brain was busily engaged among the familiar scenes of the home which she had left so far away.

Cautiously did Biddy, with the first dawn of day, advance toward where she had dreamed her poor “Pathrick” was in close contact with the veritable bastes, and the family was awakened from their slumbers by her loud tones, lamenting that “niver a vistage of Pathrick, the cats, or the ante-room was left,” for on looking out, the only object which met her gaze was the sun, which was just coming up in the east.

“What’s the time, Biddy?” asked Mrs. Santon.

“And it’s jist about three hours afther sunrise, mem.”

“I think you must be mistaken, Biddy; we cannot surely have been sleeping so long after our usual time for rising.”

“Indade, and the sun bes jist coming in sight, and it must have been a powerful time travelling over, sure.  I’m thinking they must be afther dhrying their takettles a long time, back there in ould Boston.”