re
to lave me, clear and clane, and a fortnight or so afore I come here; I
never wanst feels a bit iv it, while I rouse and prepare myself for the
Island, nor for a month after I come here agen, Glory be to God."
She then turned to her companion, and commenced, in a voice half
audible--"Musha! Katty a-haygur, did ye iver lay your two livin' eyes
on so young a priest? a sweet and holy crathur he is, no doubt, and has
goodness in his face, may the Lord bless him!"

"Musha!" said she, "surely your Reverence can't be long afther bein'
ordained, I'm thinkin'?"

"Well, that's very strange," said I, evading her, "so you tell me your
heartburn leaves you, and that you get stout every year about the time
of your pilgrimage?"

"An' troth an' I do!--hut! what am I sayin'? Indeed, sir, may be that's
more than I can say, either, your Reverence: but for sartin'it is"--

"Do you mean that you do, or that you do not?" I inquired.

"Indeed, your Reverence, you jist hot it--the Lord bless you, and spare
you to the parents that reared ye; an' proud people may they be at
having the likes of 'im, Katty avourneen"--turning abruptly to Katty,
that she might disarm my interogatories on this tender subject with a
better grace--"proud people, as I said afore, the Lord may spare him to
them!"

We here topped a little hill, and saw the spire of a steeple, and the
skirts of a country town, which a passenger told us was about three
miles distant.

My feet by this time were absolutely in griskins, nor was I by any means
prepared for a most unexpected proposal, which the spokeswoman, after
some private conversation with the other, undertook to make. I could not
imagine what the purport of the dialogue was; but I easily saw, that
I myself was the subject of it, for I could perceive them glance at me
occasionally, as if they felt a degree of hesitation in laying down
the matter for my approval; at length she opened it with great
adroitness:--"Musha, an' to be sure he will, Katty dear an' darlin'--and
mightn't you know he would--the refusin' to do it isn't in his face, as
any body that has eyes to see may know--you ashamed!--and what for would
ye be ashamed?--asthore, it's 'imself that's not proud, or he wouldn't
tramp it, barefooted, along wud two ould crathurs like huz; him that has
no sin to answer for--but I'll spake to 'im myself, and yell see it's
he that won't refuse it. Why thin, your Reverence, Katty an' I war
thinkin', that as there's