Full of boys so frisky
With the sweet-smelling whiskey,
Flying over seas and far away;
Good luck go with ’em——”
“Sullivan!” cried the priest, who could no longer endure this ill-timed mirth.
The old man scrambled up in a moment, and made his obeisance before the mournful gravity of his pastor.
“Sullivan!” continued Father Glenny, “Do you know that vessel? You cannot be aware what freight it bears! You——”
“I know now all about it,” replied the old man, pettishly. “How could your reverence expect my old eyes to see so far off what ship Dora was on board of? And what makes your reverence bring his honour to be a spy on an old man’s disgrace, unless he comes to catch me, and send me after Dora? ’Tis near the hour when foxes and justices come out after their prey. You may have me for the catching, your honour; and much good may it do you to have got me.”
He would not listen to a word Mr. Tracey had to say, but went on addressing the child, as if no one had been present, his glee being, however, all turned to bitterness.
“Agh, my jewel! and you knew more nor I, while you sprung as a lamb does when the ewe bleats. Stretch your arms, my darling, for your mother is there; and fain would I bid ye begone to her, though it would leave me alone in the wide world, where there’s not a thing my eyes love but you, babby dear!”