"The right sort are good to us, of course. Them Jim Barrows boys are anything but good. They sets on all of us as much as they dares."
By three o'clock the roof was on, and the rough scraps Mike had collected were patched into a sort of protection for a part of the east side of the new kitchen.
"Now let's be after the stove!" cried Mike.
In they went, very important.
"Mother, dear, we'd like to be takin' down your stove, if you'll let us," said Pat.
The widow smiled. "I lets you," she answered.
Down came the stovepipe to be carried out. Then the lids and the doors were taken off to make the heavy load lighter. And then under went the truck that Andy had run to borrow, and the stove was out.
Mrs. O'Callaghan carefully refrained from looking at them, but cheerful sounds came in through doors and windows as the big boys worked and the little ones crowded close with eager enjoyment of the unusual happening. Presently there came tones of dismay.
"Pat," said Mike, "there's no hole to run the pipe through. What'll we do?"
"We'll have to be cuttin' one, and with a jackknife, too, for we've nothin' else. But I'll have to be goin' now. I was to be back by four, you know."