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"
We
're
poor
,
Meggie
,
that
's
the
main
reason
.
The
nuns
always
hate
poor
pupils
.
After
you
've
been
in
Sister
Ag
's
moldy
old
school
a
few
days
you
'll
see
it
's
not
only
the
Clearys
she
takes
it
out
on
,
but
the
Marshalls
and
the
MacDonalds
as
well
.
We
're
all
poor
.
Now
,
if
we
were
rich
and
rode
to
school
in
a
big
carriage
like
the
O'Briens
,
they
'd
be
all
over
us
like
a
rash
.
But
we
ca
n't
donate
organs
to
the
church
,
or
gold
vestments
to
the
sacristy
,
or
a
new
horse
and
buggy
to
the
nuns
.
So
we
do
n't
matter
.
They
can
do
what
they
like
to
us
.
"
I
remember
one
day
Sister
Ag
was
so
mad
at
me
that
she
kept
screaming
at
me
,
'
Cry
,
for
the
love
of
heaven
!
Make
a
noise
,
Francis
Cleary
!
If
you
'd
give
me
the
satisfaction
of
hearing
you
bellow
,
I
would
n't
hit
you
so
hard
or
so
often
!
'
"
That
's
another
reason
why
she
hates
us
;
it
's
where
we
're
better
than
the
Marshalls
and
the
MacDonalds
.
She
ca
n't
make
the
Clearys
cry
.
We
're
supposed
to
lick
her
boots
.
Well
,
I
told
the
boys
what
I
'd
do
to
any
Cleary
who
even
whimpered
when
he
was
caned
,
and
that
goes
for
you
,
too
,
Meggie
.
No
matter
how
hard
she
beats
you
,
not
a
whimper
.
Did
you
cry
today
?
"
"
No
,
Frank
,
"
she
yawned
,
her
eyelids
drooping
and
her
thumb
poking
blindly
across
her
face
in
search
of
her
mouth
.
Frank
put
her
down
in
the
hay
and
went
back
to
his
work
,
humming
and
smiling
.
Meggie
was
still
asleep
when
Paddy
walked
in
.
His
arms
were
filthy
from
mucking
out
Mr.
Jarman
's
dairy
,
his
wide-brimmed
hat
pulled
low
over
his
eyes
.
He
took
in
Frank
shaping
an
axle
on
the
anvil
,
sparks
swirling
round
his
head
,
then
his
eyes
passed
to
where
his
daughter
was
curled
up
in
the
hay
,
with
Mr.
Robertson
's
bay
mare
hanging
her
head
down
over
the
sleeping
face
.
"
I
thought
this
is
where
she
'd
be
,
"
Paddy
said
,
dropping
his
riding
crop
and
leading
his
old
roan
into
the
stable
end
of
the
barn
.
Frank
nodded
briefly
,
looking
up
at
his
father
with
that
darkling
glance
of
doubt
and
uncertainty
Paddy
always
found
so
irritating
,
then
he
returned
to
the
white-hot
axle
,
sweat
making
his
bare
sides
glisten
.
Unsaddling
his
roan
,
Paddy
turned
it
into
a
stall
,
filled
the
water
compartment
and
then
mixed
bran
and
oats
with
a
little
water
for
its
food
.
The
animal
rumbled
affectionately
at
him
when
he
emptied
the
fodder
into
its
manger
,
and
its
eyes
followed
him
as
he
walked
to
the
big
trough
outside
the
forge
,
took
off
his
shirt
.
He
washed
arms
and
face
and
torso
,
drenching
his
riding
breeches
and
his
hair
.
Toweling
himself
dry
on
an
old
sack
,
he
looked
at
his
son
quizzically
.
"
Mum
told
me
Meggie
was
sent
home
in
disgrace
.
Do
you
know
what
exactly
happened
?
"
Frank
abandoned
his
axle
as
the
heat
in
it
died
.
"
The
poor
little
coot
was
sick
all
over
Sister
Agatha
.
"
