'You know my conditions.'
'Well, then, why were you so poor when I first met you?'
'I will answer you truly. Because I haven't self-control and firmness of mind enough to keep money when I get it—in a word, because I'm an Irishman. I receive a monthly allowance, and, as I wrote to a friend the other day, the first week in the month I am the King of Yvetot, the second comes good resolution on the heel of terrible reaction, the third is my week of work and philosophy, and the fourth——'
'Aye, the fourth?'
'Why, in the fourth I generally think of throwing myself off the Pont Neuf.'
'Ha! and I came upon you at the close of your fourth week?'
'That's just it.'
'Alas!' said O'Hoolohan, rising, 'that is one of our national failings. We never think of to-morrow. I had it myself, but the discipline of the barrack-yard made me methodical and gave me habits of order that grew into my nature. If I hadn't some foresight when I had the means of earning money; I would be in debt to-day and the debtor is a slave. I tell you what, sir, one of the worst lessons we Irish want to learn is the lesson of thrift—to put by something when the sun shines against the rainy day.'
O'Hara felt himself colouring, but his visitor had delicacy enough to pretend not to see it.
'Now, may I crave the favour I came for?' asked O'Hoolohan as he rose to leave.