a pair of boots, and a horse of your own (and a good broadcloth black
coat, too) to ride on, every bit as good as Father Philemy's, and may be
betther nor Father Con's."

From this point, which usually wound up these colloquies between the
father and son, the conversation generally diverged into the more
spacious fields of science; so that by the time they reached home,
Briney had probably given the father a learned dissertation upon the
elevation of the clouds above the earth, and told him within how
many thousand miles they approached it, at their nearest point of
approximation.

"Katty," said Phaddhy, when he got home, "we're to have a station
here on Thursday next: 'twas given out from the altar to-day by Father
Philemy."

"Oh, wurrah, wurrah!" exclaimed Katty, overwhelmed at the consciousness
of her own incapacity to get up a dinner in sufficient style for such
guests--"wurrah, wurrah! Phaddhy, ahagur, what on the livin' earth will
we do at all at all! Why, we'll never be able to manage it."

"Arrah, why, woman; what do they want but their skinful to eat and
dhrink, and I'm sure we're able to allow them that, any way?"

"Arrah, bad manners to me, but you're enough to vex a saint--'their
skinful to eat and dhrink!'--you common crathur you, to speak that way
of the clargy, as if it was ourselves or the laborers you war spaking
of."

"Ay, and aren't we every bit as good as they are, if you go to
that?--haven't we sowls to be saved as well as themselves?"

"'As good as they are!'--as good as the clargy!! _Manum a yea agus a
wurrah!_*--listen to what he says! Phaddhy, take care of yourself,
you've got rich, now; but for all that, take care of yourself. You had
betther not bring the priest's ill-will, or his bad heart upon us. You
know they never thruv that had it; and maybe it's a short time your
riches might stay wid you, or maybe it's a short time you might stay wid
them: at any rate, God forgive you, and I hope he will, for making use
of sich unsanctified words to your lawful clargy."

* My soul to God and the Virgin.

"Well, but what do you intind to do?---or, what do you think of getting
for them?" inquired Phaddy.

"Indeed, it's very little matther what I get for them, or what I'll do
either--sorrow one of myself cares almost: for a man in his senses, that
ought to know better, to make use of such low language about the blessed
and holy crathurs, that hasn't a stain of sin about them, no more tha