Only an Irish Boy | Page 6

settin' on them,
but I drove her away, and you can hear her cackling. Shure, Andy
needs them more than she does."
"Will you have them boiled or fried, Andy?" asked his mother.
"Any way, mother. I'm hungry enough to ate 'em raw. It's hungry work
walkin' ten miles wid a bundle on your back, let alone the fightin'."
"Fighting!" exclaimed Mrs. Burke, pausing in drawing out the table.
"Fightin', Andy?" chimed in Mary, in chorus.
"Yes, mother," said Andy.
"And who did you fight with?" asked the widow, anxiously.
"With a boy that feels as big as a king; maybe bigger."
"What's his name?"
"I heard his father call him Godfrey."
"What, Godfrey Preston?" exclaimed Mrs. Burke in something like
consternation.
"Yes, that's the name. He lives in a big house a mile up the road."
"What made you fight with him, Andy?" inquired his mother,
anxiously.
"He began it."
"What could he have against you? He didn't know you."

"He thought as I only was an Irish boy he could insult me, and call me
names, but I was too much for him."
"I hope you didn't hurt him?"
"I throwed him twice, mother, but then his father came up and that put
a stop to the fight."
"And what did his father say?"
"He took my part, mother, when he found out how it was, and scolded
his son. Shure, he's a gentleman."
"Yes, Colonel Preston is a gentleman."
"And that's where he isn't like his son, I'm thinkin'."
"No. Godfrey isn't like his father. It's his mother he favors."
"Faith, and I don't call it favoring," said Andy. Is the old lady as ugly
and big-feelin' as the son?"
"She's rather a hard woman, Andy. I go up to work there one day every
week."
"Do you, mother?" said Andy, not wholly pleased to hear that his
mother was employed by the mother of his young enemy.
"Yes, Andy."
"What is it you do?"
"I help about the ironing. To-morrow's my day for going there."
"I wish you could stay at home, and not go out to work, mother," said
Andy, soberly. "You don't look strong, mother, dear. I'm afraid you're
not well."
"Oh, yes, Andy, I am quite well. I shall be better, too, now that you are

at home. I missed you very much. It seemed lonely without you."
"I must find out some way to earn money, mother," said Andy. "I'm
young and strong, and I ought to support you."
"You can help me, Andy," said Mrs. Burke, cheerfully.
She took up the shirt and resumed her sewing.
"I'm afraid you're too steady at the work, mother," said Andy.
"I shall be ironing to-morrow. It's a change from sewing, Andy. Mary,
it's time to take off the eggs."
Andy was soon partaking of the frugal meal set before him. He enjoyed
it, simple as it was, and left not a particle of the egg or a crumb of the
bread.
CHAPTER IV
MRS. PRESTON
Whenever Godfrey Preston had any difficulty with his father, he always
went to his mother, and from her, right or wrong, he was sure to obtain
sympathy. So in the present instance, failing to receive from his father
that moral support to which he deemed himself entitled, on entering the
house he sought out his mother.
Mrs. Preston, who was rather a spare lady, with thin lips and a sharp,
hatchet-like face, was in her own room. She looked up as Godfrey
entered.
"Well, Godfrey, what's the matter?" she asked, seeing on her son's face
an unmistakable expression of discontent.
"Matter enough, mother. Father's always against me."
"I know it. He appears to forget that you are his son. What is it now?"

"He came up just as I was thrashing a boy down in the yard."
"What boy?"
"Nobody you know, mother. It was only an Irish boy."
"What was your reason for punishing him?" asked Mrs. Preston,
adopting Godfrey's version of the affair.
"He was impudent to me. He was leaning against the fence, and I
ordered him away. He was a ragged boy, with a bundle on a stick. Of
course, when he wouldn't move, I went out and thrashed him."
"Was your father there?"
"He came up in the midst of it, and, instead of taking my part, he took
the part of the Irish boy."
"I don't see how Mr. Preston can be so unfair," said his wife. "It is his
duty to stand by his family."
"I felt ashamed to have him scold me before the impudent boy. Of
course, he enjoyed it, and I suppose he will think he can be impudent to
me again."
"No doubt. I will speak to your father about it. He really shouldn't be so
inconsiderate. But what is that