Moore nodded his head approvingly.
"Quite right, Mrs. Malone," said he. "It's nice to know there is no danger of the hall being stolen. Sure, what would we do without it?"
"Bah!" exclaimed the landlady, and with her head held scornfully high, she marched out, slamming the door by way of rebuke to the levity of her lodger.
"My heye!" exclaimed Buster, breathing more freely. "She 's more wicious than usual to-day, Mr. Moore."
"I know, lad, but we can't blame her," replied the poet. "She is a good old soul, and, as she says, it was her husband who first whacked knowledge into me."
"Hi suppose 'ee were a fine scholard."
"Well," said Moore, "he was all right when he was sober, but he was never sober that I remember. He was always in high spirits as a result of the spirits being high in him. However, that has nothing to do with the rent. Is the ladder that leads to the roof of the house next door out the window?"
"Yessir," said Buster. "You can go hout the same way you did yesterday."
"Good," said Moore, "then I won't have to disturb Mrs. Malone's watch on the hall."
"No, sir, that you won't."