"You've remained single all this time, and only jilted poor Betsy Cane last week; and are you so hot after Mary Brady that you can't wait till next Monday to be married? Or is it the pigs, Denis? Are you afraid Pat may change his mind about the pigs, as you did about the cow?"
"Oh, drat the cow now, Father McGrath! and will ye never be aisy with yer joke agin a poor boy? It was not about the pigs then, nor nothing of the kind, but jist that I heard as how, but—" and Denis began scratching his head—"yer honer 'll be after twisting what I'll be tellin' yer, and poking your fun at me."
"Not I, my boy; out with it. You know nothing goes farther with me."
"Then it war just this, yer riverence, as makes me so hurried about getting the thing done. I heard tell that Tom Ginty, the pig-jobber, has comed home to Dromod from where he was away tiv' Athlone; and they do be telling me, he brought a thrifle of money with him; and yer honer knows Mary had half given a promise to Ginty afore he went: and so, yer riverence, lest there be any scrimmage betwixt Ginty and I, ye see it's as well to get the marriage done off hand."
"Oh yes, I see; you were afraid Tom Ginty would be taking Mary Brady's pigs to Athlone. That was it, was it?"
"No, yer honer, I war not afraid of that; but it might be as well there should be no scrimmage betwixt us, as in course there would not be, and we oncet man and wife. But as in course Mary has promised me now, she could not go and act like that."
"Why no, Denis, not well; unless, you know, she was to find your cow would not have any calf; eh?"
"Oh, bother it for a calf then!"
"No; for not being a calf, Denis."
"Well then, yer honer, I'll jist go and spake to Father Cullen. Though he is not so good-humoured like,—at least, he don't be always laughing at a boy."