“I believe not. I think I am the only person of that name now on the books.”
“That’s thrue; but there were three O’Malleys before you. Godfrey O’Malley, that construed Calve Neroni to Nero the Calvinist,—ha! ha! ha!—was cautioned in 1788.”
“My uncle, I believe, sir.”
“More than likely, from what I hear of you,—Ex uno, etc. I see your name every day on the punishment roll. Late hours, never at chapel, seldom at morning lecture. Here ye are, sixteen shillings, wearing a red coat.”
“Never knew any harm in that, Doctor.”
“Ay, but d’ye see me, now? ‘Grave raiment,’ says the statute. And then, ye keep numerous beasts of prey, dangerous in their habits, and unseemly to behold.”
“A bull terrier, sir, and two game-cocks, are, I assure you, the only animals in my household.”
“Well. I’ll fine you for it.”
“I believe, Doctor,” said the dean, interrupting in an undertone, “that you cannot impose a penalty in this matter.”
“Ay, but I can. ‘Singing-birds,’ says the statute, ‘are forbidden within the wall.’”