“I heard Mary prayed for in church on Sunday,” said Jerry, with a glance at the mourning band.
“Sure,” said Larry. “But she don’t need it, though,” he added reverently.
“If we all stood as good as her,” remarked McGonagle, “we’d be all right. Me mother was makin’ a novena for her when she died. She t’ought she’d get better.”
“Tell her I’m much obliged,” said Larry. “Your mother always liked Mary.” After a pause he said: “I’m goin’ out to see what’s doin’. Don’t loaf, gents, keep the t’ing goin’.”
After he had gone McGlory asked.
“Did any o’ youse fella’s hear the new one?”
“Bat it out,” requested McGonagle.
“One o’ Rosie O’Hara’s aunts was to see me mother last night, and it was the first time she was ever in our house, for her and me mother can’t hit it. I was out at the time—over to see Veronica, ye know—but I heard all about it at breakfast-time next mornin’.”
“Well, chop it off!” urged McGonagle, impatiently. “Don’t wait until I’m grey-headed. Bat it out.”
“Larry and Rose is goin’ to run double.”