thumper, only for the straws--for you see, when
they were making it, they had to draw long straws acrass in order to
keep, it from falling asunder--a fine plan it is, too. Jack M'Kenna, the
carpenther, carved it with a hand-saw, and if he didn't curse the same
straws, I'm not here. 'Draw them out, Jack,' said Father Corrigan--'draw
them out.--It's asy known, Jack, you never ate a polite dinner, you poor
awkward spalpeen, or you'd have pulled out the straws the first thing
you did, man alive.'

"Such lashins of corned beef, and rounds of beef, and legs of mutton,
and bacon--turkeys and geese, and barn-door fowls, young and fat. They
may talk as they will, but commend me to a piece of good ould bacon,
ate with crock butther, and phaties, and cabbage. Sure enough, they
leathered away at everything, but this and the pudding were the
favorites. Father Corrigan gave up the carving in less than no time, for
it would take him half a day to sarve them all, and he wanted to provide
for number one. After helping himself, he set my uncle to it, and maybe
he didn't slash away right and left. There was half a dozen gorsoons
carrying about the beer in cans, with froth upon it like barm--but that
was beer in airnest, Nancy--I'll say no more."

"When the dinner was over, you would think there was as much left as
would sarve a regiment; and sure enough, a right hungry ragged regiment
was there to take care of it--though, to tell the truth, there was as
much taken into Finigan's as would be sure to give us all a rousing
supper. Why, there was such a troop of beggars--men, women, and
childher, sitting over on the sunny side of the ditch, as would make
short work of the whole dinner, had they got it. Along with Father
Corrigan and me, was my father and mother, and Mary's parents; my uncle,
cousins, and nearest relations on both sides. Oh, it's Father Corrigan,
God rest his sowl, he's now in glory, and so he was then, also--how he
did crow and laugh! 'Well, Matthew Finigan,' says-he, 'I can't say but
I'm happy that your Colleen Bawn here has lit upon a husband that's no
discredit to the family--and it is herself didn't drive her pigs to
a bad market,' says he. 'Why, in troth, Father avourneen,' says my
mother-in law, 'they'd be hard to plase that couldn't be satisfied with
them she got; not saying but she had her pick and choice of many a
good offer, and might have got richer matches; but Shane Fadh M'Cawell
although you're sitting there b