tenants together. If I know your
character, Squire Whitethorn, I believe you're not the man that would
put a Protestant tenant over the head of a Catholic one, which shows,
sir, your own good sense; for what is a difference of religion, when
people do what they ought to do? Nothing but the name. I trust, sir, we
shall meet in a better place than this--both Protestant and Catholic'

"'I am happy, sir,' says the Squire, 'to hear such principles from a man
who I thought was bound to hould different opinions.'

"'Ah, sir!' says the friar, 'you little know who you're talking to,
if you think so. I happened to be collecting a taste of oats, with the
permission of my friend Doctor Corrigan here, for I'm but a poor friar,
sir, and dropped in _by mere accident_; but, you know the hospitality of
our country, Squire; and that's enough--go they would not allow me, and
I was mintioning to this young gintleman, your son, how we collected the
oats, and he insisted on my calling--a generous, noble child! I hope,
sir, you have got proper instructors for him?'

"'Yes,' said the Squire; 'I'm taking care of that point.'

"What do you think, sir, but he insists on my calling over to-morrow,
that he may give me his share of oats, as I told him that I was a friar,
and that he was a little parishioner of mine: but I added, that that
wasn't right of him, without his papa's consent.'

"'Well, sir,' says the Squire, 'as he has promised, I will support him;
so if you'll ride over to-morrow, you shall have a sack of oats--at all
events I shall send you a sack in the course of the day.'

"'I humbly thank you, sir,' says Father Rooney and I thank my noble
little parishioner for his generosity to the poor old friar--God mark
you to grace, my dear; and wherever you go, take the ould man's blessing
along with you.'

"They then bid us good-night, and we rose and saw them to the door.

"Father Corrigan now appeared to be getting sleepy. While this was
going on, I looked about me, but couldn't see Mary. The tailor was just
beginning to get a little hearty once more. Supper waa talked of, but
there was no one that could ate anything; even the friar, was against
it. The clergy now got their horses, the friar laving his oats behind
him; for we promised to send them home, and something more along with
them the next day. Father James was roused up, but could hardly stir
with a _heddick_. Father Corrigan was correct enough; but when the friar
got up, he