“And what is it you want me to do?”
“Why, see here, your reverence, we are going to embark in the dirty steamer yonder for ould Ireland, which starts as soon as the tide serves, and we want your reverence to bless us before we goes.”
“You want me to bless you?”
“We do, your reverence; we want you to spit out a little bit of a blessing upon us before we goes on board.”
“And what good would my blessing do you?”
“All kinds of good, your reverence; it would prevent the dirty steamer from catching fire, your reverence, or from going down, your reverence, or from running against the blackguard Hill of Howth in the mist, provided there should be one.”
“And suppose I were to tell you that I am not Father Toban?”
“Och, your reverence will never think of doing that.”
“Would you believe me if I did?”
“We would not, your reverence.”