HO, FOR C.4ALFORA-A. 9
And so Tim O'Rooney, a good-natured, trustworthy
Irishman, who had been in the employ of Mr. Lawrence
for eight years, almost ever since his arrival in America,
was sent to New York to accompany the boys on their
Howard and Elwood were standing one afternoon on
the corner of Montague Street, in Brooklyn, chatting
with each other about their expected trip to California.
They had closed their school studies a week before, and
boy-like were now anxious to be off upon their journey.
Suddenly an Irishman came in sight, smoking furiously
at a short black pipe. The first glance showed them
that it was no other than Tim O'Rooney, the expected
"Isn't that good" exclaimed Elwood, "the steamer
sails oil Saturday, and we'll go in it. Here he comes, as
though he was in a great hurry!"
" Don't say anything, and see whether he will know
"Why shouldn't he"
" You know we've grown a good deal since he was
here, and the beard is getting so stiff on my chin that it
scratches my hand every time I touch it."
"Yes; that mustache, too, is making you look as
fierce as a Bluebeard; but here he is!"
At this instant Tim O'Rooney came opposite them.
He merely glanced up, puffed harder than ever aad was
passing on, when both burst out in a loud laugh.
"Be the powers! what's the mather with ye spal-
peens" he angrily demanded. "Can't a dacent man be