God bless us, sir, said Billy, will you?
Don’t say these words again, Billy, said the little man, or you will be my ruin for ever.—Now, Billy, as I will be a thousand years in the world to-morrow, I think it is full time for me to get married.
I think so too, without any kind of doubt at all, said Billy, if ever you mean to marry.
And to that purpose, said the little man, have I come all the way to Carrigoggunniel: for in this house, this very night, is young Darby Riley going to be married to Bridget Rooney; and as she is a tall and comely girl, and has come of decent people, I think of marrying her myself, and taking her off with me.
And what will Darby Riley say to that? said Billy.
Silence! said the little man, putting on a mighty severe look; I did not bring you here with me to ask questions; and without holding farther argument, lit began saying the queer words, which had the power of passing him through the key-hole as free as air, and which Billy thought himself mighty clever to be able to say after him.
In they both went; and for the better viewing the company, the little man perched himself up as nimbly as a cock-sparrow upon one of the big beams which went across the house overall their heads, and Billy did the same upon another facing him; not being much accustomed to roosting in such a place, his legs hung down as untidy as may be, and it was quite clear he had not taken pattern after the way in which the little man had bundled himself up together. If the little man had been a tailor all his life, he could not have sat more contented by upon his haunches.
There they were, both master and man, looking down upon the fun going forward—and under them were the priest and piper—and the father of Darby Riley, with Darby’s two brothers and his uncle’s son—and there were both father and the mother of Bridget Rooney, and proud enough the old couple were that night of their daughter, as good right they had—and her four sisters with bran new ribbons in their caps, and her three brothers all looking as clean and clever as any three boys in Munster—and there were uncles and aunts, and gossips and cousins enough besides to make a full house of it—and plenty was there to eat and drink on the table for every one of them, if they had been double the number.
Now it happened, just as Mrs Rooney had helped his reverence to the first cut of the pig’s head which was placed before her, beautifully bolstered up with white savoys, that the bride gave a sneeze which made every one at the table start, but not a soul said “God bless us.” All thinking that the priest would have done so, as he ought if he had done his duty, no one wished to take the word out of his mouth, which unfortunately was preoccupied with pig’s head and greens. And after a moment’s pause the fun and merriment of the bridal feast went on without the pious benediction.
Of this circumstance both Billy and his master were no inattentive spectators from their exalted stations. Ha! exclaimed the little man, throwing one leg from under him with a joyous flourish, and his eye twinkled with a strange light, whilst his eyebrows became elevated into the curvature of Gothic arches—Ha! said he, leering down at the bride, and then up at Billy, I have half of her now, surely. Let her sneeze but twice more, and she is mine, in spite of priest, mass-book and Darby Riley.