low, ye'll never be the cut of a man yer
father was; but no matther, avourneen, ye'll be a betther man, I hope;
and God knows you may asy be that, for Father Philemy, I'm not what I
ought to be, yer Reverence; however, I may mend, and will, maybe, before
a month of Sundays goes over me: but, for all that, Briney, I hope to
see the day when you'll be sitting an ordained priest at my own table;
if I once saw that, I could die contented--so mind yer larning, acushla,
and, his Reverence here will back you, and make inthorest to get you
into the college. Musha, God pity them crathurs at the door--aren't
they gone yet? Listen to them coughin', for fraid we'd forget them: and
throth and they won't be forgot this bout any how--Katty, avourneen,
give them every one, big and little, young and ould, their
skinful--don't lave a wrinkle in them; and see, take one of them
bottles--the crathurs, they're starved sitting there all night in
the cowld--and give them a couple of glasses a-piece--it's good, yer
Reverence, to have the poor body's blessing at all times; and now, as I
was saying, Here's all yer healths! and from the very veins of my heart
yer welcome here."

Our readers may perceive that Phaddhy

"Was not only blest, but glorious,
O'er a' the ills o' life victorious;"

for, like the generality of our peasantry, the _native_ drew to the
surface of his character those warm, hospitable, and benevolent virtues,
which a purer system of morals and education would most certainly keep
in full action, without running the risk, as in the present instance, of
mixing bad habits with frank, manly, and generous qualities.

* * * * *

"I'll not go, Con--I tell you I'll not go till I sing another song.
Phaddhy, you're a prince--but where's the use of lighting more candles
now, man, than you had in the beginning of the night? Is Captain Wilson
gone? Then, peace be with him; it's a pity he wasn't on the right side,
for he's not the worst of them. Phaddhy, where are you?"

"Why, yer Reverence," replied Katty, "he's got a little unwell, and jist
laid down his head a bit."

"Katty," said Father Con, "you had better get a couple of the men to
accompany Father Philemy home; for though the night's clear, he doesn't
see his way very well in the dark--poor man, his eye-sight's failing him
fast."

"Then, the more's the pity, Father Con. Here, Denis, let yourself and
Mat go home wid Father Philemy."

"Good-