nd upon it, however, if
Beatty had not turned Catholic, he might die like a dog for the same Mr.
Lucre."

"I will not abstract the last shilling from his pocket for the unction
of superstition, at all events."

"Not you, faith; you'll charge him nothing I grant, and right glad am I
to find that you know the value of your services. You forget, however,
that my flock pay you well for doing this nothing--that is, for
discharging your duty--notwithstanding."

Both now pushed on at a rapid rate, growling at each other as they went
along. On getting into the fields they increased their speed; and as the
peasantry of both religions were apprised of the circumstances connected
with Bob's complaint and conversion, each party cheered on their own
champion.

"More power to you Father M'Cabe; give him the Latin and the Bravery!"
(*Breviary)

"Success, Mr. Lucre! Push on, sir, and don't let the Popish rebel send
him out of the world with a bandage on his eyes. Lay in the Bible, Mr.
Lucre! Protestant and True Blue forever--hurra!"

"The true Church forever, Father M'Cabe, the jewel that you war! Give
the horse the spurs, avourneen. Sowl, Paddy, but the _bodagh_ parson has
the advantage of him in the _cappul_. Push on, your reverence; you
have the divil and the parson against you, for the one's drivin' on the
other."

"Cross the corner of the Barny Mother's meadow, Mr. Lucre, and wheel
in at the garden ditch; your horse can do it, although you ride the
heaviest weight. Lay on him, sir, and think of Protestant Ascendancy.
King William against Popery and wooden shoes; hurra!"

"Father, achora, keep your shoulder to the wind, and touch up _Parra
Gastha_ (* Literally, Paddy Speedy) wid the spurs. A groan for the
Protestant parson, father darlin'!"

"Three groans for the Popish Mass Book. Bravo, Mr. Lucre! That ditch was
well cleared!"

"Devil a purtier, father jewel! Parra Gastha's a darlin', and brought
you over like a bird--hurra!"

"Have you no whip, Mr. Lucre? Whip and spur, sir, or the Popish garran
will be in before you. By the great Boyne, I'm afraid the charger's
blown."

"God enable you, father avilish! Blown! Why what would you expect, an'
it the first visit ever the same horse made to a sick-bed' in his life;
he now finds it isn't on the king's highway he is--and I'll go bail it's
himself that's cursin' the same duty in his heart. Bravo, Father Pat!
Parra Gastha's the boy that knows his duty--more power, Parra