But one morning ould Davy, who lived in the next cottage, when he came to work, brought a message from Mrs Kelly to say that Tom was ill. Jane, who went down to see what was the matter, came back crying.
"He's goin' to die," she said, choking back her tears, "an' she's sittin' by the fire cryin' her heart out."
"Auch, the critter! she's had sorras enough without that," said Lull.
"What ails him?" Mick asked.
"He's got consumption, an' she says—she says—she's buried eight a' them with it."
"God help her! she was the brave wee woman," said Lull.
"Mebby he'll get better," said Patsy.
"He'll niver do that in this world," Lull said sadly.
"It's just awful," said Jane. "She says there's no cure for it. It'd break yer heart to see her sittin' there."
"I'm sure as anything Doctor Dixey could cure him," said Fly. "Didn't he mend Patsy's foot when he hurted it in the threshin' machine? An' didn't he take them ould ulsters out a' my throat?"