Ten stories which give sympathetic glimpses of the gray lives of the peasants of Connaught. They are varied in content from the deep laid scheme which robs the store of Festus Clasby, the "perfectly wrought human casket," to the weird sketches of the Herd who has the blood of the white goat upon him, or the death bed of Kevin Hooban, the friend of the "Good People." Stories of character rather than plot.
en, almost babyish in their rounded innocence. Festus Clasby handed her the tin can, and she examined it slowly.
"Who sold you the Can with the Diamond Notch?" she asked.
"The man standing by your side."
"He has wronged you. The can is not his."
"He says he made it."
"Liar! He never curved it in the piece."
"I don't much care whether he did or not. It is mine now, anyhow."
"It is my brother's can. No other hand made it. Look! Do you see this notch on the piece of sheet iron where the handle is fastened to the sides?"
"Is it not shaped like a diamond?"
"By that mark I identify it. My brother cuts that diamond-shaped notch in all the work he puts out from his hands. It is his private mark. The shopkeepers have knowledge of it. There is a value on the cans with that notch shaped like a diamond. This man here makes cans when he is not drunk, but the notch to them is square. The shopkeepers have knowledge of them, too, for they do not last. The handles fall out of