An', you phanix of beauty, you managed the
childhre, the crathurs, the same way--an' a good way it is, in throth."
"Pether, wor you ever thinkin' o' Father Muloahy's sweetness to us of
late?"
"No, thin, the sorra one o' me thought of it. Why, Ellish?"
"Didn't you obsarve that for the last three or four months he's full of
attintions to us? Every Sunday he brings you up, an' me, if I'd go, to
the althar,--an' keeps you there by way of showin' you respect. Pether,
it's not you, but your money he respects; an' I think there ought to be
no respect o' persons in the chapel, any how. You're not a bit nearer
God by bein' near the althar; for how do we know but the poorest crathur
there is nearer to heaven than we are!"
"Faith, sure enough, Ellish; but what deep skame are you penethratin'
now, you desaver?"
"I'd lay my life, you'll have a proposial o' marriage from Father
Mulcahy, atween our Dan an' Miss Granua. For many a day he's hintin' to
us, from time to time, about the great offers she had; now what's the
rason, if she had these great offers, that he didn't take them?"
"Bedad, Ellish, you're the greatest headpiece in all Europe. Murdher
alive, woman, what a fine counsellor you'd make. An' suppose he did
offer, Ellish, what 'ud you be sayin' to him?"
"Why, that 'ud depind entirely upon what he's able to give her--they say
he has money.
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