Teag. Yes, that it was, but I carried it always about with me when at home my sweet cross upon my dear breast, bound to my dear button hole.
Tom. And what manner of worship did you perform by that?
Teag. Why I adored the cross, the pope, and the priest, cursed Oliver as black as crow, and swears myself a cut throat against all Protestants and church of Englandmen.
Tom. And what is the matter but you would be a church of Englandman, or a Scotch Presbyterian yourself, Paddy?
Teag. Because it is unnatural for an Irishman: but had shaint Patrick been a Presbyterian, I had been the same.
Tom. And for what reason would you be a Presbyterian then, Paddy?
Teag. Because they have liberty to eat flesh in lent, and every thing that’s fit for the belly.
Tom. What, Paddy, are you such a lover of flesh that you would change your profession for it?
Teag. O yes, that’s what I would, I love flesh of all kinds, sheep’s beef, swine’s mutton, hare’s flesh, and hen’s venison; but our religion is one of the hungriest in all the world, ah! but it makes my teeth to weep, and my belly to water, when I see the Scotch Presbyterians, and English churchmen, in time of lent, feeding upon bulls’ bastards, and sheep’s young children.