When breakfast was over, and previous to his departure, he brought Jerry Sullivan and his wife out to the barn, and in a tone and manner of much mystery, assuming at the same time that figurative and inflated style so peculiar to him, and also to his rival the Senachie, he thus addressed them--
“Listen,” said he, “listen, Jerry Sullivan, and Bridget, his wife; a child was born, and a page was written--the moon saw it, and the stars saw it; but the sun did not, for he is dark to fate an' sees nothing but the face of nature. Do you understand that, Jerry Sullivan, an' you Bridget, his wife?”
“Well, troth we can't say we do yet, at all events,” they replied; “but how could we, ye know, if it's regardin' prophecy you're spakin'.”
“Undherstand it!” he replied, contemptuously, “you undherstand it!--no nor Father Philemy Corcoran himself couldn't undherstand it, barrin' he fasted and prayed, and refrained from liquor, for that's the way to get the ray o' knowledge; at laist it's, the way I got it first--however, let that pass. As I was sayin' a child was born and a page was written--and an angel from heaven was sent to Nebbychodanazor, the prophet, who was commanded to write. What will I write? says Nebbychodanazor, the prophet. Write down the fate of a faymale child, by name Mave Sullivan, daughter to Jerry Sullivan and his wife Bridget, of Aughnmurrin. Amin, says the prophet; fate is fate, what's before is not behind, neither is what's behind before, and every thing will come to pass that's to happen. Amin, agin, says the prophet, an' what am I to write? Grandeur an' wealth--up stairs and down stairs--silks-an' satins--an inside car--bracelets, earrings, and Spanish boots, made of Morroccy leather, tanned at Cordovan. Amin, agin, says Nebbychodanazor, the prophet; this is not that, neither is that the other, but every is everything--naither can something be nothing, nor nothing something, to the end of time; and time itself is but cousin jarmin to eternity--as is recorded in the great book of fate, fortune and fatality. Write again, says the angel. What am I to write? At the name of Mabel Sullivan place along wid all the rest, two great paragons of a woman's life, Marriage and Prosperity--write marriage happy, and prosperity numerous--and so the child's born, an' the page written--beauty and goodness, a happy father, and a proud mother--both made wealthy through her means.”