This preliminary hint is given to the reader, that he may better enter into the spirit of Father Phil's
SUBSCRIPTION LIST FOR THE REPAIRS AND ENLARGEMENT OF BALLY-SLOUGHGUTPHERY CHAPEL
£ s. d. PHILIP BLAKE, P.P.
Micky Hicky 0 7 6 “He might as well have made ten
shillings: but half a loaf is betther
than no bread.”
“Plase your reverence,” says
Mick, from the body of the chapel,
“sure seven and six-pence is more
than the half of ten shillings.”
(A laugh.)
“Oh! how witty you are. 'Faith,
if you knew your duty as well as
your arithmetic, it would be betther
for you, Micky.”
Here the Father turned the laugh
against Mick.
£ s. d.
Bill Riley 0 3 4 “Of course he means to subscribe
again.
£ s. d.
John Dwyer 0 15 0 “That's something like! I'll
be bound he's only keeping back
the odd five shillings for a brush
full o' paint for the althar; it's as
black as a crow, instead o' being as
white as a dove.”
He then hurried over rapidly some
small subscribers as follows:—
Peter Heffernan 0 1 8
James Murphy 0 2 6
Mat Donovan 0 1 3
Luke Dannely 0 3 0
Jack Quigly 0 2 1
Pat Finnegan 0 2 2
Edward O'Connor, Esq. 2 0 0 “There's for you! Edward
O'Connor, Esq., a Protestant in the
parish—Two pounds!”
“Long life to him,” cried a voice
in the chapel.
“Amen,” said Father Phil; “I'm
not ashamed to be clerk to so good
a prayer.
Nicholas Fagan 0 2 6
Young Nicholas Fagan 0 5 0 “Young Nick is better than owld
Nick, you see.”
The congregation honoured the
Father's demand on their risibility.
£ s. d.
Tim Doyle 0 7 6
Owny Doyl 1 0 0 “Well done, Owny na Coppal—you
deserve to prosper for you
make good use of your thrivings.
£ s. d.
Simon Leary 0 2 6
Bridget Murphy 0 10 0 “You ought to be ashamed o'
yourself, Simon: a lone widow
woman gives more than you.”
Simon answered, “I have a large
family, sir, and she has no childhre.”
“That's not her fault,” said the
priest—“and maybe she'll mend o'
that yet.” This excited much
merriment, for the widow was buxom,
and had recently buried an old
husband, and, by all accounts, was
cocking her cap at a handsome young
fellow in the parish.
£ s. d.
Judy Moylan 0 5 0 Very good, Judy; the women are
behaving like gentlemen; they'll
have their reward in the next world.
Pat Finnerty 0 3 4 “I'm not sure if it is 8s. 4d. or
3s. 4d., for the figure is blotted—
but I believe it is 8s. 4d.”
“It was three and four pince
I gave your reverence,” said Pat
from the crowd.
“Well, Pat, as I said eight and
four pence you must not let me go
back o' my word, so bring me five
shillings next week.”
“Sure you wouldn't have me pay
for a blot, sir?”
“Yes, I would—that's the rule
of back-mannon, you know, Pat.
When I hit the blot, you pay
for it.”
Here his reverence turned round,
as if looking for some one, and
called out, “Rafferty! Rafferty!
Rafferty! Where are you, Rafferty?”
An old grey-headed man appeared,
bearing a large plate, and Father
Phil continued—
“There now, be active—I'm
sending him among you, good people,
and such as cannot give as
much as you would like to be read
before your neighbours, give what
little you can towards the repairs,
and I will continue to read out the
names by way of encouragement to
you, and the next name I see is
that of Squire Egan. Long life to
him!
£ s. d.
Squire Egan 5 0 0 “Squire Egan—five pounds—
listen to that—five pounds—a
Protestant in the parish—five
pounds! 'Faith, the Protestants will
make you ashamed of yourselves, if
we don't take care.
£ s. d.
Mrs. Flanagan 2 0 0 “Not her own parish, either—a
kind lady.
£ s. d.
James Milligan
of Roundtown 1 0 0 “And here I must remark that
the people of Roundtown have not
been backward in coming forward
on this occasion. I have a long list
from Roundtown—I will read it
separate.” He then proceeded at a
great pace, jumbling the town and
the pounds and the people in a most
extraordinary manner: “James
Milligan of Roundtown, one pound;
Darby Daly of Roundtown, one
pound; Sam Finnigan of Roundtown,
one pound; James Casey of
Roundpound, one town; Kit Dwyer
of Townpound, one round—pound
I mane; Pat Roundpound—Pounden,
I mane—Pat Pounden a pound
of Poundtown also—there's an
example for you!—but what are you
about, Rafferty? I don't like the
sound of that plate of yours;—
you are not a good gleaner—go up
first into the gallery there, where I
see so many good-looking bonnets—I
suppose they will give something to
keep their bonnets out of the rain,
for the wet will be into the gallery
next Sunday if they don't. I think
that is Kitty Crow I see, getting her
bit of silver ready; them ribbons of
yours cost a trifle, Kitty. Well,
good Christians, here is more of the
subscription for you.
£ s. d.
Matthew Lavery 0 2 6 “He doesn't belong to
Roundtown—Roundtown will be renowned
in future ages for the support
of the Church. Mark my
words—Roundtown will prosper
from this day out—Roundtown
will be a rising place.
Mark Hennessy 0 2 6
Luke Clancy 0 2 6
John Doolin 0 2 6 “One would think they all agreed
only to give two and sixpence apiece.
And they comfortable men, too!
And look at their names—Matthew,
Mark, Luke, and John, the
names of the Blessed Evangelists,
and only ten shillings among them!
Oh, they are apostles not worthy of
the name—we'll call them the Poor
Apostles from this out” (here a
low laugh ran through the chapel)—
“Do you hear that, Matthew, Mark,
Luke, and John? 'Faith! I can tell
you that name will stick to you.'”
(Here the laugh was louder.)
A voice, when the laugh subsided,
exclaimed, “I'll make it ten
shillin's, your reverence.”
“Who's that?” said Father Phil.
“Hennessy, your reverence.”
“Very well, Mark. I suppose
Matthew, Luke, and John will follow
your example?”
“We will, your reverence.”
“Ah! I thought you made a mistake;
we'll call you now the Faithful
Apostles—and I think the change
in the name is better than seven
and sixpence apiece to you.
“I see you in the gallery there,
Rafferty. What do you pass that
well-dressed woman for?—thry back
—ha!—see that—she had her money
ready if you only asked for it—don't
go by that other woman
there—oh, oh!—So you won't give
anything, ma'am. You ought to be
ashamed of yourself. There is a
woman with an elegant sthraw bonnet,
and she won't give a farthing.
Well now—afther that—remember—I
give it from the althar, that
from this day out sthraw bonnets
pay fi'penny pieces.
£ s. d.
Thomas Durfy, Esq. 1 0 0 “It's not his parish and he's a
brave gentleman.
£ s. d.
Miss Fanny Dawson 1 0 0 “A Protestant out of the parish,
and a sweet young lady, God bless
her! Oh, 'faith, the Protestants is
shaming you!!!
£ s. d.
Dennis Fannin 0 7 6 “Very good, indeed, for a working
mason.”
Jemmy Riley 0 5 0 “Not bad for a hedge-carpenther.”
“I gave you ten, plaze, your reverence,” shouted Jemmy, “and by the same token, you may remember it was on the Nativity of the Blessed Vargin, sir, I gave you the second five shillin's.”
“So you did, Jemmy,” cried Father Phil—“I put a little cross before it, to remind me of it; but I was in a hurry to make a sick call when you gave it to me, and forgot it after: and indeed myself doesn't know what I did with that same five shillings.”
Here a pallid woman, who was kneeling near the rails of the altar, uttered an impassioned blessing, and exclaimed, “Oh, that was the very five shillings, I'm sure, you gave to me that very day, to buy some little comforts for my poor husband, who was dying in the fever!”—and the poor woman burst into loud sobs as she spoke.
A deep thrill of emotion ran through the flock as this accidental proof of their poor pastor's beneficence burst upon them; and as an affectionate murmur began to rise above the silence which that emotion produced, the burly Father Philip blushed like a girl at this publication of his charity, and even at the foot of that altar where he stood, felt something like shame in being discovered in the commission of that virtue so highly commended by the Holy One to whose worship the altar was raised. He uttered a hasty “Whisht—whisht!” and waved with his outstretched hands his flock into silence.
In an instant one of those sudden changes common to an Irish assembly, and scarcely credible to a stranger, took place. The multitude was hushed—the grotesque of the subscription list had passed away and was forgotten, and that same man and that same multitude stood in altered relations—they were again a reverent flock, and he once more a solemn pastor; the natural play of his nation's mirthful sarcasm was absorbed in a moment in the sacredness of his office; and with a solemnity befitting the highest occasion, he placed his hands together before his breast, and raising his eyes to Heaven he poured forth his sweet voice, with a tone of the deepest devotion, in that reverential call to prayer, “Orate, fratres.”
The sound of a multitude gently kneeling down followed, like the soft breaking of a quiet sea on a sandy beach; and when Father Philip turned to the altar to pray, his pent-up feelings found vent in tears; and while he prayed, he wept.
I believe such scenes as this are not of unfrequent occurrence in Ireland; that country so long-suffering, so much maligned, and so little understood.