“‘Mickey Free,’ says the priest, ‘ye must stir yourself. Your father is mighty displeased at the way you’ve been doing of late; and av ye kept yer word, he’d be near out by this time.’
“‘Troth,’ says I, ‘it’s a very expensive place.’
“‘By coorse it is,’ says he; ‘sure all the quality of the land’s there. But, Mickey, my man, with a little exertion, your father’s business is done. What are you jingling in your pocket there?’
“‘It’s ten shillings, your reverence, I have to buy seed potatoes.’
“‘Hand it here, my son. Isn’t it better your father would be enjoying himself in paradise, than if ye were to have all the potatoes in Ireland?’
“‘And how do ye know,’ says I, ‘he’s so near out?’
“‘How do I know,—how do I know, is it? Didn’t I see him?’
“‘See him! Tear an ages, was you down there again?’
“‘I was,’ says he; ‘I was down there for three quarters of an hour yesterday evening, getting out Luke Kennedy’s mother. Decent people the Kennedy’s; never spared expense.’
“‘And ye seen my father?’ says I.