"She's an awful good wee child, anyway," she answered. "What's that sc.r.a.pin' in the corner?" she added.

She stepped over the hay to look.

"What is it?" said Mick. Jane did not answer. He repeated his question, and Jane turned a bewildered face.

"Come here an' see," she said. In the corner, where a place had been cleared for the purpose, a bantam hen was tethered by a string to a nail in the floor!

"G.o.d help us," said Mick, "but why an' iver did he hide it here?"

"He!" said Jane, "don't you see the manin' af it? She's stole it herself, an' tould us all them lies on purpose."

Mick could hardly be brought to believe this.

"Did ye iver hear tell a' such badness?" said Jane.

"Mebby she niver knowed what she was doin'," said Mick.

"Didn't she just," said Jane; "she knowed enough to tell a quare good lie."

"We'd better go an' ast her if she done it," said Mick.

They found Honeybird playing on the lawn with the two others, and led her away to the top of the garden. Jane began the accusation.

"Do you know, Honeybird, we think you're a wee thief," she said.

"Dear forgive ye," said Honeybird.

"We seen the bantam," said Jane.

Honeybird looked up quickly. "Then just you lave it alone, an' mind yer own business," she said.

"Do you know that you are a thief an' a liar, Honeybird Darragh?" said Jane sternly.

"Well, what if I am?" said Honeybird. "Sure, I'm on'y a wee child, an know no better."

"Ye know the commandments an' 'Thou shall not steal' as well as I do,"

said Jane.

"I forget them sometimes," said Honeybird; "besides, too, I niver stole it. It as near as ninepence walked up into my pinny."

"Where was it?" Mick asked.

"It was out walkin' on the road all by its lone," said Honeybird, "an'

if I hadn't 'a' tuk it mebby somebuddy else would."

"Then ye niver seen no bad man with a baldy head at all?" Mick asked.

"No, I didn't," Honeybird confessed; "but I might 'a' seen him all the same."

"Luk here, me girl," said Jane, "you've just got to walk that bantam hen back to Father Ryan."

"I will not," said Honeybird.

"Then we'll tell Lull."

Honeybird began to cry. "If ye do I'll run away, an' niver, niver come home any more," she said. Jane was dumfounded.

"Ye can't go on bein' a thief, Honeybird," she said at last. "We on'y want to make ye good."

"Then ye'll not make me good," said Honeybird. "If ye tell anybuddy I'll be as bad as bad as the divil, so I just will."

"Well, if ye don't give up the bantam Almighty G.o.d'll let ye know,"

said Jane.

"I'm not a bit feared a' Him," Honeybird replied. Say what they would they could not move her. Mick reasoned and Jane reasoned, but it was all to no purpose. Honeybird was determined to stick to her sin. In the end she got the better of them, for to put an end to her threats they had to promise not to tell. Later in the day Andy also discovered the bantam hen, and told Lull.

"I wouldn't 'a' believed there was that much veeciousness in the wean,"

he said. Andy was cross--he had been to the police barracks, and told Sergeant M'Gee to look out for Honeybird's bad man.

"G.o.d luk to yer wit, man," said Lull. "Sure, childer's always tryin'

their han' at some divilment or other."

"She'd be the better af a good batin'," said Andy.

"It'd be the quare wan would lift han' to a chile like thon," said Lull. "I don't hould with batin's, anyway. Just take yer hurry, an'

ye'll see what'll happen."

What did happen was that Honeybird brought an old hymn-book into the kitchen that evening, and sat by the fire singing hymns. "I am Jesus'

little lamb," she was singing in a shrill voice when the others came into supper.

"Then ye're the quare black wan," said Jane.

Several days pa.s.sed, and Honeybird showed no sign of repentance. She even continued the tale of the bad man to Fly and Patsy, who did not know the truth, and were still frightened of him. She said she had met him again. Where and when she was not going to tell, for he had told her he was going to America, and was never going to steal any more. He had also said that if she were a good girl he would give her a bantam hen for herself.

"He'll on'y give ye the wan he stole from Father Ryan, an' then ye'll have to take it back," said Fly.

"No; but he said it'd be wan he stole from somebuddy I niver seen or knowed," said Honeybird.

"Don't you be takin' it," Patsy warned her. "The receiver's as bad as the thief, ye know."

Honeybird was disconcerted for a moment. "Who tould ye that?" she asked.

"It's in the Bible," said Patsy.

"Well, I don't believe it," said Honeybird. "Anyway, Almighty G.o.d forgets things half His time. I seen somebuddy that done a sin wanst, an' He niver let on He knowed."

That night Mrs Darragh was ill again. The children had all gone to bed. Lull thanked G.o.d they were asleep as she sat by their mother's side listening to her wild prayers and protestations of repentance.

"The childer'd make sure she was goin' to die if they heerd her," she thought, and hoped the nursery door was securely shut. She had found it was best to let Mrs Darragh cry till she had exhausted her grief.