Our Ireland,” and drank, and all said Ah God and Amen to that, and the old man looked at the picture over the hearth and then at last shyly observed, “I do hate to mention it—that picture—”

“Sir?”

“It seems to me,” said the old man, apologetically, “to be a trifle off-centered, on the tilt. I wonder if you might—”

“Mightn’twe, boys!” cried Casey.

And fourteen men rushed to put it right.

The End