The Connollys were the caretakers. They occupied the left wing of the
house, and worked the farm. They were both good Catholics, and Mrs.
Connolly looked after the little church at the crossroads corner, where
the good priests came from the College every week to say Mass. She was
a faithful, hard-working, pious soul, with her mind just now very much
on her two sons who had enlisted at the first call for men, and were
now in France.
She talked much about them to Jean, who came into the kitchen to watch
her get supper. The deep, dark, low-ceiled room was lighted by an oil
lamp. The rocking chair in which Jean sat had a turkey-red cushion,
and there was another turkey-red cushion in the rocking chair on the
other side of the cookstove. They ate their meals on the table under
the lamp. It was only when guests were in the house that the dining
room was opened.
The Doctor and Jim Connolly were at the barn, where were kept two fat
mules, a fat little horse, a fat little cow, and a pair of fat pigs.
There were also a fat house dog, and a brace of plump pussies, for the
Connollys were a plump and comfortable couple who wanted everything
about them comfortable, and who had had little to worry them until the
coming of the war.
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