"A good supper, indade," thought the hungry children, and in a few minutes not a sign of anything to eat could be seen.
"Here chick! chick!" called Norah, dropping crumbs to her pet chicken. It had kept close beside her during the meal, and once had grown so impatient that it flew up into the little girl's lap.
An old hen had already gone to roost on the rung of a stool in a dark corner of the room, while the much-loved goat stood munching grass at Norah's elbow.
The child's mother did not seem troubled in the least by these things. She was busy as busy could be, giving hot potatoes and slices of bread to Mike and Joe, Norah and Katie, while she trotted baby Patsy on her knee.
But when the whole flock of geese came running and flying into the hut for their share of the family supper, it was a little too much.
"Away with you, noisy creatures!" cried the busy mother. "Away with you! Mike, take the broom and drive them out. Joe, lend a hand and help your brother."
When the room had been cleared of the greedy geese, every one went on eating, until not even a crumb was left on the table.
The girls cleared away the dishes; the boys brought a load of peat into the house, and placed it before the fire to dry for burning; the mother rocked Patsy to Dreamland, and the father smoked his pipe.
Then, when the work was all done, he told the children there was good news.