"What's that?—Jack's voice!" "It is," replied her son. "Ah! Terry O'Flaherty!" vociferated Jonathan, in a tone that betrayed hot the slightest discomposure. "Can't you guess?" returned Winifred, throwing her arms about her neck. Crossing several fields, newly mown, or filled with lines of tedded hay, she arrived, not without great exertion, at the summit of a hill. Two persons possessing a more comfortable stock of assurance could not be readily found. You really ought not to stay here and talk to us. " "Thank'ee, Sir," grinned Sheppard. . Just now my best ones are all taken.
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