"'Is it that way you salute your clargy,' says he, 'with your caubeen on your head?'
"'Faix,' says I, 'it's little ye mind whether it's an or aff; for you never take the trouble to say, "By your leave," or "Damn your soul!" or any other politeness when we meet.'
"'You're an ungrateful creature,' says he; 'and if you only knew, you'd be trembling in your skin before me, this minute.'
"'Devil a tremble,' says I, 'after walking six miles this way.'
"'You're an obstinate, hard-hearted sinner,' says he; 'and it's no use in telling you.'
"'Telling me what?' says I; for I was getting curious to make out what he meant.
"'Mickey,' says he, changing his voice, and putting his head down close to me,--'Mickey, I saw your father last night.'
"'The saints be merciful to us!' said I, 'did ye?'
"'Tear an ages,' says I, 'did he tell you what he did with the new corduroys he bought in the fair?'
"'Oh, then, you are a could-hearted creature!' says he, 'and I'll not lose time with you.' With that he was going to ride away, when I took hold of the bridle.
"'Father, darling,' says I, 'God pardon me, but them breeches is goin' between me an' my night's rest; but tell me about my father?'
"'In purgathory,' says he; 'but he won't be there long.'
"'Well,' says I, 'that's a comfort, anyhow.'
"'I am glad you think so,' says he; 'but there's more of the other opinion.'
"'Oh, melia-murther!' says I, 'is that it?'
"Well, I was so terrified and frightened, I said nothing for some time, but trotted along beside the priest's horse.
"'Father,' says I, 'how long will it be before they send him where you know?'
"'It will not be long now,' says he, 'for they're tired entirely with him; they've no peace night or day,' says he. 'Mickey, your father is a mighty hard man.'
"'True for you, Father Roach,' says I to myself; 'av he had only the ould stick with the scythe in it, I wish them joy of his company.'
"'Mickey,' says he, 'I see you're grieved, and I don't wonder; sure, it's a great disgrace to a decent family.'
"'Troth, it is,' says I; 'but my father always liked low company. Could nothing be done for him now, Father Roach?' says I, looking up in the priest's face.
"'I'm greatly afraid, Mickey, he was a bad man, a very bad man.'