We won't starve."
"I'll get work ag'in soon, maybe," said Pat, encouraged.
"Shure you will."
"And if I don't, I'll help you wash," said her husband,
humorously.
"Shure you'd spoil the clothes," said Bridget, laughing.
In the evening Phil played, and they had a merry time. Mr.
McGuire quite forgot that he was out of work, and, seizing his
wife by the waist, danced around the kitchen, to the great
delight of the children.
The next morning Phil thanked Mrs. McGuire for her kindness, and
prepared to go away.
"Why will you go?" asked Bridget, hospitably. "Shure we have
room for you. You can pay us a little for your atin', and sleep
with the childer."
"I should like it," said Phil, "but----"
"But what?"
"Pietro will come for me."
"And if he does, my Pat will kick him out of doors."
Mr. McGuire was six feet in height, and powerfully made. There
was no doubt he could do it if he had the opportunity. But Phil
knew that he must go out into the streets and then Pietro might
waylay him when he had no protector at hand. He explained his
difficulty to Mrs. McGuire, and she proposed that he should
remain close at hand all the forenoon; near enough to fly to the
house as a refuge, if needful.
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