"My father and Susy is gone into the town," said Norah Kate; "and there's a grand doll, with a pink dress on her, in Mary Finnegan's shop, and it's to be got for Susy and me."
"What signifies the doll, or the money either?" said Mrs. Cassidy. "It's the letter I'm thinking of. Go on with it now, your reverence. I'd never be tired listening to it."
"'The place I'm in,' Sonny wrote, 'would strike you as mighty queer, not being like what you're accustomed to at home. How's father? And how's the polly cow? And, hoping that you're keeping your own health,
"It was Sonny we called him," said Mrs. Cassidy; "but his name was Michael Antony."
"'P.S.,' I read. 'I didn't go near Aunt Matilda, for fear she might think I was wanting something from her, which is what I wouldn't take if she offered it to me—after the letter she wrote saying it would be better for me not to come out. But I'll take a run down to see her some day when I'm through with the job I'm at. I want nothing from her now—thanks be to God! But it might be some time before I get going, for Pittsburgh's a long way from this—farther than you'd think.'"
"Sonny was always terrible stubborn and independent," said Mrs. Cassidy. "Since ever he was
