“Sure I’ll think all round a thing twict afore I have my mind made to anythin’; then I’ll keep it made for a good bit afore I give over the penny.”

She repeated this advice while she considered all possible investments, but she found nothing to her liking.  The children made frequent suggestions, such as bagpipes and clothes-chests, and contrivances for feast-spreading and transportation; and Susan was strongly in favor of a baby faery to take back to Miss Peggie.  But to all of these Bridget shook an emphatic negative.

“Sure ye’d be tired o’ the lot afore ye’d gone half-way back.  Like as not we’ll never have another penny to spend as long as we live, an’ I’m goin’ to see that ye’ll all get somethin’ that will last.”

She was beginning to fear that theirs would be the fate of the man from Letterkenny, when she chanced upon Peter and Toby performing for the benefit of the pipers.

“Them trusters will never be lettin’ Pether take that dog back to the horspital,” she thought, mindful of the sign in Saint Margaret’s yard that dogs were not allowed.  “He’d have to be changin’ him back into a make-believe dog to get him in at all; an’ Pether’d never be satisfied wi’ him that way, now—­afther havin’ him real.”

Her trouble took her to the queen.  “Is there any way of buyin’ a dog into a horspital?” she asked, solemnly.

“I think it would be easier to buy a home to put him in.”

“Could ye—­could ye get one for the price of a penny?” Bridget considered her own question, and coupled it with something she remembered Sandy had been wishing for back in Ward C.  “Wait a minute; I’ll ask ye another.  Could ye be buyin’ a home for childher an’ dogs for the price of a penny?”

The queen nodded.

“Would it be big enough for nine childher—­an’ one dog; an’ would it be afther havin’ all improvements like Miss Peggie an’ the House Surgeon?”

Again the queen nodded.

Bridget lowered her voice.  “An’ could we put up a sign furninst, ’No Trusters Allowed’?”

“I shouldn’t wonder.”

“Then,” said Bridget, with decision, “I’ve thought all round it twict an’ my mind’s been made to stay; we’ll buy a home.”

She made a hollow of her two hands and called, “Whist—­whist there, all o’ yez!  Pether an’ Pancho—­Michael—­Susan—­do ye hear!” And when she had them rounded up, she counted them twice to make sure they were all present.  “Now ye listen.”  Bridget raised a commanding finger to the circle about her while she exhibited the golden penny.  “Is there any one objectin’ to payin’ this down for a home?”

“What kind of a home?” asked Susan, shrewdly.

“Sure the kind ye live in—­same as other folks have that don’t live in horspitals or asylums.”

“Hurrah!” chorused everybody, and Bridget sighed with relief.

“Faith, spendin’ money’s terrible easy.”

She put the penny in the queen’s out-stretched hand.  “Do I get a piece o’ paper sayin’ I paid the money on it?” she demanded, remembering her responsibility.