This conversation took place three months before, soon after Brandon's boat-house was completed.
When on this June day Brandon loosened his rope, and prepared for a row, he was alone. But just as he was pushing off he caught sight of a small boy, ten years old, the son of a poor Irish widow in the village, who regarded him and his boat wistfully.
"Give me a ride, Brandon?" he asked.
Ordinarily Brandon would have answered in the negative, and indeed he was on the point of doing so, when a sudden idea entered his mind.
"Well, jump in, you little brat!" he said.
Tommy Boyle was only too glad to do so, and he did not trouble himself to resent the rough form of invitation.
"Thank you, Brandon," he said.
"Look here, youngster, don't call me Brandon."
"Why, isn't that your name?" asked Tommy, in wonder.