that there's a differ betuxt them
two lies so great, that, begad, I wouldn't wondher if it 'ud make a
balance ov five years in purgathory to the sowl that 'ud be in it. Ay,
and if it wasn't that the Church is too liberal entirely, so she is, it
'ud cost his heirs and succissors betther nor ten pounds to have him out
as soon as the other. Get along, man, and take half-a-year at dogmatical
theology: go and read your Dens, you poor dunce, you!"
"Raally," says the Pope, "you're making the heretic's shoes too hot to
hould me. I wondher how the Prodesans can stand afore you at all."
"Don't think to delude me," says his Riv'rence, "don't think to back out
ov your challenge now," says he, "but come to the scratch like a man, if
you are a man, and answer me my question. What's the rason, now, that
Julius Caesar and the Vargin Mary was born upon the one day?--answer me
that, if you wouldn't be hissed off the platform?"
Well, my dear, the Pope couldn't answer it, and he had to acknowledge
himself sacked. Then he axed his Riv'rence to tell him the rason
himself; and Father Tom communicated it to him in Latin. But as that is
a very deep question, I never hard what the answer was, except that I'm
tould it was so mysterious, it made the Pope's hair stand on end.
But there's two o'clock, and I'll be late for the lecthir.
CHAPTER III.
HOW FATHER TOM MADE A HARE OF HIS HOLINESS IN LATIN.
Oh, Docther Whateley, Docther Whateley, I'm sure I'll never die another
death if I don't die aither of consumption or production! I ever and
always thought that asthronomy was the hardest science that was till
now--and it's no lie I'm telling you, the same asthronomy is a tough
enough morsel to brake a man's fast upon--and geolidgy is middling and
hard too--and hydherastatics is no joke; but ov all the books of science
that ever was opened and shut, that book upon Pilitical Econimy lifts
the pins! Well, well, if they wait till they persuade me that taking a
man's rints out ov the counthry, and spinding them in forrain parts
isn't doing us out ov the same, they'll wait a long time in troth. But
you're waiting, I see, to hear how his Riv'rence and his Holiness got on
after finishing the disputation I was telling you of. Well, you see, my
dear, when the Pope found he couldn't hold a candle to Father Tom in
theology and logic, he thought he'd take the shine out ov him in Latin
anyhow, so says he, "Misther Maguire," says he, "I quite agree wid
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