speak to Father Con. He's not
very far in his Latin yet, sir but his master tells me that he hasn't
the likes of him in the school for brightness--Briney, will you come
over, I say; come over, sarrah, and spake to the gintleman, and
him wants to shake hands wid you--come up, man, what are you afeard
of?--sure Father Con's not going to examine you now."

"No, no, Briney," said Father Con, "I'm not about to examine you at
present."

"He's a little dashed, yer Reverence, be-kase he thought you war going
to put him through some of his Latin," said the father, bringing him up
like a culprit to Father Con, who shook hands with him, and, after a few
questions as to the books he read, and his progress, dismissed him.

"But, Father Con, wid submission," said Katty, "where's Father Philemy
from us?--sure, we expected him along wid you, and he wouldn't go to
disappoint us?"

"Oh, you needn't fear that, Katty," replied Father Con; "he'll be here
presently--before breakfast, I'll engage for him at any rate; but he had
a touch of the headache this morning, and wasn't able to rise so early
as I was."

During this conversation a little crowd had collected about the door of
the room in which he was to hear the confessions, each struggling and
fighting to get the first turn; but here, as in the more important
concerns of this world, the weakest went to the wall. He now went into
the room, and taking Katty herself first, the door was closed upon them,
and he gave her absolution; and thus he continued to confess and absolve
them, one by one, until breakfast.

Whenever a station occurs in Ireland, a crowd of mendicants and other
strolling impostors seldom fail to attend it; on this occasion, at
least, they did not. The day, though frosty, was fine; and the door was
surrounded by a train of this description, including both sexes, some
sitting on stones, some on stools, with their blankets rolled up under
them; and others, more ostensibly devout, on their knees, hard at
prayer; which, lest their piety might escape notice, our readers may be
assured, they did not offer up in silence. On one side you might observe
a sturdy fellow, with a pair of tattered urchins secured to his back
by a sheet or blanket pinned across his breast with a long iron skewer,
their heads just visible at his shoulders, munching a thick piece of
wheaten bread, and the father on his knees, with a a huge wooden cross
in hand, repeating _padareens_, and occasionally