pe, quite forgetting himself, he was so mad
at being sacked before the sarvints.

Well, if it hadn't been that his Holiness was in it, Father Tom 'ud have
given him the contints of his tumbler betuxt the two eyes, for calling
him a liar; and, in troth, it's very well it was in Latin the offence
was conveyed, for, if it had been in the vernacular, there's no saying
what 'ud ha' been the consequence. His Riv'rence was mighty angry
anyhow. "Tu senex lathro," says he, "quomodo audes me mendacem
praedicare?"

"Et, tu, sacrilege nebulo," says the Pope, "quomodo audacitatem habeas,
me Dei in terris vicarium, lathronem conwiciari?"

"Interroga circumcirca," says his Riv'rence.

"Abi ex aedibus meis," says the Pope.

"Abi tu in malam crucem," says his Riv'rence.

"Excimnicabo te," says the Pope.

"Diabolus curat," says his Riv'rence.

"Anathema sis," says the Pope.

"Oscula meum pod--" says his Riv'rence--but, my dear, afore he could
finish what he was going to say, the Pope broke out into the vernacular,
"Get out o' my house, you reprobate!" says he, in sich a rage that he
could contain himself widin the Latin no longer.

"Ha, ha, ha!--ho, ho, ho!" says his Riv'rence. "Who's the hare now, your
Holiness? O, by this and by that, I've sacked you clane! Clane and
clever I've done it, and no mistake! You see what a bit of desate will
do wid the wisest, your Holiness,--sure it was joking I was, on purpose
to aggravate you,--all's fair, you know, in love, law, and conthravarsy.
In troth if I'd thought you'd have taken it so much to heart, I'd have
put my head into the fire afore I'd have said a word to offend you,"
says he, for he seen that the Pope was very vexed. "Sure, God forbid,
that I'd say anything agin your Holiness, barring it was in fun: for
aren't you the father ov the faithful, and the thrue vicar ov God upon
earth? And aren't I ready to go down on my two knees this blessed minit
and beg your apostolical pardon for every word that I said to your
displasement?"

"Are you in arnest that it is in fun you wer?" says the Pope.

"May I never die if I aren't," says his Riv'rence. "It was all to
provoke your Holiness to commit a brache ov the Latin, that I tuck the
small liberties I did," says he.

"I'd have you to take care," says the Pope, "how you take sich small
liberties again, or maybe you'll provoke me to commit a brache ov the
pace."

"Well, and if I did," says his Riv'rence, "I know a sartan preparation