of hoarded wealth, for it
was said he had thirty or forty pounds in the Loan Fund Office at
Carrick-on-Shannon. He was a hard-working, ill-favoured, saving man;
but, as he was able to keep a comfortable home over a wife, he had no
difficulty in getting one.

"Oh then it pleases me entirely, because you are the boy that's both
able and willing to pay your clergyman respectably as you should--"

"In course, your riverence, though the likes of a poor boy like me
hasn't much, I wouldn't not be married dacently, Father John; and in
course I couldn't expect yer riverence to be doing it for nothing."

"For nothing indeed! Where would I be getting the coat on my back,
and the roof over my head?--no, the poor themselves always make out
something for me; and you, Denis, that are comfortable, would of
course be sorry to set a bad example to those that are not so."

"Oh then, yer riverence is poking yer fun at me."

"No fun at all, Denis. If you that have the money don't pay your
priest, who is to, I'd like to know. Fun indeed! no, but it's good
earnest I'm talking; and if you have a character that you wish to
support, and to give your children after you, it's now you should be
looking to it."

Denis McGovery began twirling his hat round in his hand, and bending
his knees, as if nonplussed. He had known well enough, beforehand,
what the priest would say to him, and the priest too, what answer
he would get. The question in these cases is, which would cajole
the other the best, and of course the priest would have the best
of it. This may seem odd to those who do not know the country; but
did he not do so, the Roman Catholic clergyman could not get even
the moderate remuneration which he does receive for his laborious
services.

"Oh, yer riverence," continued Denis, attempting a grim smile, "you
know it's the young woman, or her friends, as always pays the priest
mostly."

"And who is the young woman, Denis; Betsy Cane, isn't it?"

"No, Father John," said Denis, blushing almost black through his dark
skin; "it ain't Betsy."

"Not Betsy Cane! why she told me three weeks ago you were to be
married to her."

"And so I was, yer riverence, only ye see for a mistake as happened."

"A mistake! Was it she made the mistake or you?"

"Why it warn't exactly herself thin as did it; it war her mother."

"Her mother made a mistake! What mistake did her mother make?"

"Along of the cow, yer riverence." Denis seemed very slow of