"'Upon me?' says I.

"'Troth, no less,' says he; 'how many Ma.s.ses was said for your father's soul; how many Aves; how many Paters? Answer me.'

"'Devil a one of me knows!--may be twenty.'

"'Twenty, twenty!--no, nor one.'

"'And why not?' says I; 'what for wouldn't you be helping a poor crayture out of trouble, when it wouldn't cost you more nor a handful of prayers?'

"'Mickey, I see,' says he, in a solemn tone, 'you're worse nor a haythen; but ye couldn't be other, ye never come to yer duties.'

"'Well, Father,' says I, Looking very penitent, 'how many Ma.s.ses would get him out?'

"'Now you talk like a sensible man,' says he. 'Now, Mickey, I've hopes for you. Let me see,' here he went countin' upon his fingers, and numberin' to himself for five minutes. 'Mickey,' says he, 'I've a batch coming out on Tuesday week, and if you were to make great exertions, perhaps your father could come with them; that is, av they have made no objections.'

"'And what for would they?' says I; 'he was always the hoith of company, and av singing's allowed in them parts--'

"'G.o.d forgive you, Mickey, but yer in a benighted state,' says he, sighing.

"'Well,' says I, 'how'll we get him out on Tuesday week? For that's bringing things to a focus.'

"'Two Ma.s.ses in the morning, fastin',' says Father Roach, half aloud, 'is two, and two in the afternoon is four, and two at vespers is six,' says he; 'six Ma.s.ses a day for nine days is close by sixty Ma.s.ses,--say sixty,' says he; 'and they'll cost you--mind, Mickey, and don't be telling it again, for it's only to yourself I'd make them so cheap--a matter of three pounds.'

"'Three pounds!' says I; 'be-gorra ye might as well ax me to give you the rock of Cashel.'

"'I'm sorry for ye, Mickey,' says he, gatherin' up the reins to ride off,--'I'm sorry for ye; and the time will come when the neglect of your poor father will be a sore stroke agin yourself.'

"'Wait a bit, your reverence,' says I,--'wait a bit. Would forty shillings get him out?'

"'Av course it wouldn't,' says he.

"'May be,' says I, coaxing,--'may be, av you said that his son was a poor boy that lived by his indhustry, and the times was bad--'

"'Not the least use,' says he.

"'Arrah, but it's hard-hearted they are,' thinks I. 'Well, see now, I'll give you the money, but I can't afford it all at onst; but I'll pay five shillings a week. Will that do?'

"'I'll do my endayvors,' says Father Roach; 'and I'll speak to them to treat him peaceably in the meantime.'

"'Long life to yer reverence, and do. Well, here now, here's five hogs to begin with; and, musha, but I never thought I'd be spending my loose change that way.'

"Father Roach put the six tinpinnies in the pocket of his black leather breeches, said something in Latin, bid me good-morning, and rode off.

"Well, to make my story short, I worked late and early to pay the five shillings a week, and I did do it for three weeks regular; then I brought four and fourpence; then it came down to one and tenpence halfpenny, then ninepence, and at last I had nothing at all to bring.

"'Mickey Free,' says the priest, 'ye must stir yourself. Your father is mighty displeased at the way you've been doing of late; and av ye kept yer word, he'd be near out by this time.'

"'Troth,' says I, 'it's a very expensive place.'

"'By coorse it is,' says he; 'sure all the quality of the land's there.

But, Mickey, my man, with a little exertion, your father's business is done. What are you jingling in your pocket there?'

"'It's ten shillings, your reverence, I have to buy seed potatoes.'

"'Hand it here, my son. Isn't it better your father would be enjoying himself in paradise, than if ye were to have all the potatoes in Ireland?'

"'And how do ye know,' says I, 'he's so near out?'

"'How do I know,--how do I know, is it? Didn't I see him?'

"'See him! Tear an ages, was you down there again?'

"'I was,' says he; 'I was down there for three quarters of an hour yesterday evening, getting out Luke Kennedy's mother. Decent people the Kennedy's; never spared expense.'

"'And ye seen my father?' says I.

"'I did,' says he; 'he had an ould flannel waistcoat on, and a pipe sticking out of the pocket av it.'

"'That's him,' says I. 'Had he a hairy cap?'

"'I didn't mind the cap,' says he; 'but av coorse he wouldn't have it on his head in that place.'

"'Thrue for you,' says I. 'Did he speak to you?'

"'He did,' says Father Roach; 'he spoke very hard about the way he was treated down there; that they was always jibin' and jeerin' him about _drink_, and fightin', and the course he led up here, and that it was a queer thing, for the matter of ten shillings, he was to be kept there so long.'

"'Well,' says I, taking out the ten shillings and counting it with one hand, 'we must do our best, anyhow; and ye think this'll get him out surely?'

"'I know it will,' says he; 'for when Luke's mother was leaving the place, and yer father saw the door open, he made a rush at it, and, be-gorra, before it was shut he got his head and one shoulder outside av it,--so that, ye see, a thrifle more'll do it.'

"'Faix, and yer reverence,' says I, 'you've lightened my heart this morning.' And I put my money back again in my pocket.

"'Why, what do you mean?' says he, growing very red, for he was angry.

"'Just this,' says I, 'that I've saved my money; for av it was my father you seen, and that he got his head and one shoulder outside the door, oh, then, by the powers!' says I, 'the devil a jail or jailer from h.e.l.l to Connaught id hould him. So, Father Roach, I wish you the top of the morning.' And I went away laughing; and from that day to this I never heard more of purgathory; and ye see, Master Charles, I think I was right."

Scarcely had Mike concluded when my door was suddenly burst open, and Sir Harry Boyle, without a.s.suming any of his usual precautions respecting silence and quiet, rushed into the room, a broad grin upon his honest features, and his eyes twinkling in a way that evidently showed me something had occurred to amuse him.

"By Jove, Charley, I mustn't keep it from you; it's too good a thing not to tell you. Do you remember that very essenced young gentleman who accompanied Sir George Dashwood from Dublin, as a kind of electioneering friend?"

"Do you mean Mr. Prettyman?"

"The very man; he was, you are aware, an under-secretary in some government department. Well, it seems that he had come down among us poor savages as much from motives of learned research and scientific inquiry, as though we had been South Sea Islanders; report had gifted us humble Galwayans with some very peculiar traits, and this gifted individual resolved to record them. Whether the election week might have sufficed his appet.i.te for wonders I know not; but he was peaceably taking his departure from the west on Sat.u.r.day last, when Phil Macnamara met him, and pressed him to dine that day with a few friends at his house. You know Phil; so that when I tell you Sam Burke, of Greenmount, and Roger Doolan were of the party, I need not say that the English traveller was not left to his own una.s.sisted imagination for his facts. Such anecdotes of our habits and customs as they crammed him with, it would appear, never were heard before; nothing was too hot or too heavy for the luckless c.o.c.kney, who, when not sipping his claret, was faithfully recording in his tablet the mems. for a very brilliant and very original work on Ireland.

"Fine country, splendid country; glorious people,--gifted, brave, intelligent, but not happy,--alas! Mr. Macnamara, not happy. But we don't know you, gentlemen,--we don't indeed,--at the other side of the Channel.

Our notions regarding you are far, very far from just."

"I hope and trust," said old Burke, "you'll help them to a better understanding ere long."