"Och, thin, is it for that _bocaun_ (* soft, innocent person) of a boy
to set off wid himself, runnin' through the wide world afther larnin',
widout money or friends! Avourneen, put it out of yer head. No; struggle
on as the rest of us is doin', an' maybe yell come as well off at the
long run."
"Mother, dear," said the son, "I wouldn't wish to go agin what you'd
say; but I made a promise to myself to 'rise yez out of your poverty if
I can, an' my mind's made up on it; so don't cross me, or be the manes
of my havin' bad luck on my journey, in regard of me goin' aginst yer
will, when you know 'twould be the last thing I wish to do."
"Let the gossoon take his way, Vara. Who knows but it was the Almighty
put the thoughts of it into his head. Pasthorini says that there
will soon be a change, an' 'tis a good skame it 'ill be to have him
a _sogarth_ when the fat living will be walkin' back to their ould
owners."
"Oh, an' may the Man above grant _that_, I pray Jamini this day! for are
not we harrished out of our lives, scrapin' an' scramblin' for the black
thieves, what we ought to put on our backs, an' into our own mouths.
Well, they say it's not lucky to take money from a priest, because
it's the price o' sin, an' no more it can, seein' that they want it
themselves; but I'm sure it's _their_ (* The Protestant clergy) money
that ought to carry the bad luck to them, in regard of their gettin' so
many bitter curses along wid it."
When a lad from the humblest classes resolves to go to Munster as a poor
scholar, there is but one course to be pursued in preparing his outfit.
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