"
"An' there was niver a time when they was late home but you made sure
the whole lot of 'em was killed," said Murty, grinning. "I'd come in
here an' find you wit' all the funerals planned, so to speak--"
"Ah, go on! At least, I alwuz stayed at home when I was nervis," said
Mrs. Brown. "Who was it I've known catch an 'orse in the dark, an' go
off to look for 'em when they were a bit late? Not me, Mr. O'Toole!" She
filled his cup and handed it to him with a triumphant air.
"Yerra, I misremember doin' any such thing," said Murty, slightly
confused. "'Tis the way I was most likely goin' afther a sick bullock,
or it might be 'possum shootin'." He raised his cup and took a deep
draught; then, with a wry face, gazed at its contents. "I dunno is this
a new brand of tea you're afther usin', now? Sure, it looks pale."
Mrs. Brown cast a glance at the cup he held out, and gave a gasp of
horror.
"Well, not in all me born days 'ave I made tea an' forgot to put the tea
in!" she exclaimed, snatching it from his hand. "Don't you go an' tell
Dave and Mick, Murty, or I'll never hear the end of it. Lucky there's
plenty of hot water." She emptied the teapot swiftly, and refilled it,
this time with due regard to the tea-caddy.
"Now, Murty, don't you sit there grinnin' at me like a hyener--it isn't
every day I get Miss Norah home."
"It is not," said Murty, taking his renewed cup and a large piece of
bread and butter.
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