Joe accepted the boon without acknowledgment; indeed, he scrutinized the gift with an air of half-depreciation.
“You don't seem to think much of a cigar,” said O'Shea, testily.
“When I can get no betther,” said Joe, biting off the end.
O'Shea frowned and turned away. It was evident that he had some difficulty in controlling himself, but he succeeded, and was silent. The effort, however, could not be sustained very long, and at last he said, but in a slow and measured tone,—
“Shall I tell you a home-truth, Master Joe?”
“Yes, if you like.”
“It is this, then: it is that same ungracious and ungrateful way with which you, and every one like you in Ireland, receive benefits, disgusts every stranger.”
“Benefits!”
“Yes, benefits,—I said benefits.”
“Sure, what's our own isn't benefits,” rejoined Joe, calmly.