This is by a collection at the chapel among the parishioners, to whom
the matter is made known by the priest, from the altar some Sunday
previous to his departure. Accordingly, when the family had all given
their consent to Jemmy's project, his father went, on the following day,
to communicate the matter to the priest, and to solicit his co-operation
in making a collection in behalf of the lad, on the next Sunday but one:
for there is always a week's notice given, and sometimes more, that the
people come prepared.
The conversation already detailed between father and son took place
on Friday, and on Saturday, a day on which the priest never holds a
Station, and, of course, is generally at home, Dominick M'Evoy went to
his house with the object already specified in view. The priest was
at home; a truly benevolent man, but like the worthies of his day, not
over-burdened with learning, though brimful of kindness and hospitality
mixed up with drollery and simple cunning.
"Good morning, Dominick!" said the priest, as Dominick entered.
"Good morrow, kindly, Sir," replied Dominick: "I hope your Reverence is
well, and in good health."
"Troth I am, Dominick! I hope there's nothing wrong at home; how is the
wife and children?"
"I humbly, thank your Reverence for axin'! Troth there's no rason for
complainin' in regard o' the health; sarra one o' them but's bravely,
consitherin' all things: I believe I'm the worst o' them, myself, yer
Reverence.. I'm gettin' ould, you see, an' stiff', an' wake; but that's
only in the coorse o' nathur; a man can't last always.
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