"'Tis well that ye mind--ye who sit by the fire--
That the Lord he was born in a dark and cold byre.
Mhuire as traugh!"
"Wait ye, whoever ye are!" and Teig was away to the corner, digging fast
at the loose clay, as a terrier digs at a bone. He filled his hands full
of the shining gold, then hurried to the door, unbarring it.
The miller's wee Cassie stood there, peering at him out of the darkness.
"Take those to the widow O'Donnelly, do ye hear? And take the rest to
the store. Ye tell Jamie to bring up all that he has that is eatable an'
dhrinkable; and to the neighbours ye say, 'Teig's keepin' the feast this
night.' Hurry now!"
Teig stopped a moment on the threshold until the tramp of her feet had
died away; then he made a hollow of his two hands and called across the
road:
"Hey there, Barney, will ye come over for a sup?"