“I’m fearing it is,” acknowledged Judy. “It’s a way thim pools has. There was one below Swallyfield whin I was here first…and now it’s nothing but a grane dimple wid some ferns and bracken in it.”

“I don’t know how I’ll bear it if it dries up. I’ve always loved it so.”

“What don’t ye be loving around the ould place, Patsy dear?”

“The more things and people you love the more happiness you get, Judy.”

“Oh, oh, and the more sorrow too. Now, whativer made me go and say that! It jist slipped out.”

“It’s true, I suppose,” said Pat thoughtfully. “It’s the price you pay for loving, I guess. If I hadn’t loved Bets so much it wouldn’t have hurt me so terribly when she died. But it was worth the hurt, Judy.”

“It always do be,” said Judy gently. “So niver ye be minding me silly talk av the sorrow.”

“Well, how about the black chest, Judy?”

“Cuddles wants us to be waiting till she can come. She said she wudn’t be long…she had a bit av Lating to look over. She do be getting int’rested in her books at last. Joe did be giving her a bit av advice now and thin.”

“I hope we’ll be able to afford to give her a real good education, Judy. We never do seem to have much money, I admit.”

“Too hospitable, I’m supposing some do be thinking. Mrs. Binnie says we throw out more wid a spoon than the min can bring in wid a shovel…Binnie-like. Our min like the good living. And what if we don’t be having too much money, Patsy dear? Sure and we have lashings av things no money cud be buying. There’ll be enough squazed out for Cuddles whin the time comes, niver fear. The Good Man Above will be seeing to that.”

The drone of the separator came up from the yard below where Tillytuck was operating under the big maple over the well and singing a Psalm sonorously, with McGinty and some cats for an audience. It struck Pat that Tillytuck had a remarkably good voice. And he was setting the saucer for the fairies, just as Judy always did.

“I used to think the fairies really came and drank it. I wish I could believe things like that now, Judy.”

“It do be fun belaving things. I often wonder, Patsy dear, at all the skiptics do be losing. As for the saucer av milk, the dog McGinty gets it now mostly. Look at him sitting there and thumping his bit av a tail ivery time Tillytuck gets to the end av a verse. He may not be having inny great ear for music but he do be knowing how to get round Tillytuck.”

“Judy, I’m almost sure dear little dogs like McGinty must have souls.”