Part 44 (1/2)

She caavenue, and their steps seemed to march to a triumphant anthem

POST SCRIPTUM

Grey Town after many years, and Grey Town in the early su theed Grey Town, for prosperity had transforer ricultural district, but a busy industrial tohere theinterests; where everya stream of workers flowed from the outside suburbs into the tohere there was bustle and noise and confusion; where rew rich and proud in the power of their s A happier Grey Town? Perhaps not quite so contented as the lazy, easy-going, and self-satisfied Grey Town, as Denis Quirk had found it, for here comparative poverty stood side by side with riches, and suffered in the contrast

Prosperity had come to the town on sound lines, thanks to Denis Quirk

He had provided that riches should not be accu and discomfort to the poor It was thanks to him, so the Grey Towners said, that the factory area was separated from the residential portion of the town They also hinted in Grey Town that he was largely responsible for the Govern landlords to provide their tenants with sufficient space for a garden and yard of greater extent than onea cat in There were others in it, Grey Town acknowledged that; but their Member, their Denis Quirk, was the prime mover

He was rich now, and happy, but I ate to hurl a curse at the oppressor of the unfortunate He still had enemies--his determined and combative nature made that unavoidable--but his ene the poor by his agency These ter suress

And they vowed that ”that deo out when the country recovered its mental equilibrium, lost for the ti on a garden seat, with a book in his hand, but work had been declared an insult by the two rosy rogues, a boy and a girl, by the ho had escaped fro the in an amused manner the subservience of the master of men to the children

Kathleen, the elder, was a copy of her ood as his father; singly, they were powerful; united, as to-day, they were irresistible And they had decided that ”Daddy” ame should be hide and seek

”Hide 'oo eyes and count,” said Kathleen, junior, in a co voice

”But Daddy wants to read,” expostulated Mother, in a tone of entreaty

”Daddy mustn't read to-day It's Denny's birfday Daddies don't read on their little boys' birfdays, does they, Denny?”

”No,” replied Denny, in a voice of conviction

”What do Daddies do under such circumstances?” asked Denis, senior, in an airls wants them to do, doesn't the no reason to controvert this reasoning

”But it's not your birthday, Kath,” suggested Mother

”It's Denny's, and Denny gave it to me, 'cos I told him I wouldn't kiss him if he didn't”

Here the peculiar injustice of this proceeding suddenly struck Denny, and he began to cry, not in a quiet and subdued manner, as a respectable boy would, but in a stentorian roar

It was at this moment that Molly Healy came up the avenue, and she rushed at and snatched Denny up in her arms

”Were they cruel to ht you so nice,” she cried