he found no one in the kitchen, for it is necessary to say here that, in this neat but unassuming abode of benevolence and goodness, that which we have termed the hall-door led, in the first instance, to the beautiful little kitchen we have just described.  The stranger, having heard voices in conversation with the priest, resolved to wait a little until his visitors should leave him, as he felt reluctant to intrude upon him while engaged with his parishioners.  He could not prevent himself, however, from overhearing the following portion of their I conversation.

“And it was yesterday he put in the distraint?”

“It was, your reverence.”

“Oh, the dirty Turk; not a landlord at all is half so hard to ourselves as those of our own religion:  they’ll show some lenity to a Protestant, and I don’t blame them for that, but they trample those belonging to their own creed under their inhuman hoofs.”

“How much is it, Nogher?”

“Only nine pounds, your reverence.”

“Well, then, bring me a stamp in the course of the day, and I’ll pass my bill to him for the amount.”

“Troth, sir, wid great respect, your reverence will do no such thing.  However I may get it settled, I won’t lug you in by the head and shoulders.  You have done more of that kind of work than you could afford.  No, sir; but if you will send Father James up to my poor wife and daughter that’s so ill with this faver—­that’s all I want.”

“To be sure he’ll go, or rather I’ll go myself, for he won’t be home till after station.  Did this middleman landlord of yours know that there was fever in your family when he; sent in the bailiffs?”

“To do him justice, sir, he did not; but he knows it since the day before yesterday, and yet he won’t take them off unless he gets either the rent or security.”

“Indeed, and the hard-hearted Turk will have the security;—­whisper,—­call down tomorrow with a stamp, and I’ll put my name on it; and let these men, these keepers, go about their business.  My goodness! to think of having two strange fellows night and day in a sick and troubled family!  Oh, dear me! one half the world doesn’t know how the other lives.  If many of the rich and wealthy, Michael, could witness the scenes that I witness, the sight might probably soften their hearts.  Is this boy your son, Nogher?”

“He is, sir.”

“I hope you are giving him a good education; and I hope, besides, that he is a good boy.  Do you attend to your duty regularly, my good lad?”

“I do, plaise your reverence.”

“And obey your parents?”

“I hope so, sir.”

“Indeed,” said his father, “poor Mick doesn’t lave us much to complain of in that respect; he’s a very good boy in general, your reverence.”

“God bless you, my child,” said the priest, solemnly, placing his hand upon the boy’s head, who was sitting, “and guide your feet in the paths of religion and virtue!”