It is not uncommon for a priest to get a bit of truth by accident or by cunning from one of his flock.
The parish priest was congratulating a man who had married three wives upon getting a bit of money with each, and received this answer:—
'Well, your reverence, I did not do badly at all, but between the weddings and the funerals, your reverence took care it was not all clear profit.'
There is plenty of hard barter about the terms of these ceremonies, and on one occasion at Brosna, when the curate stood out for three pounds as his fee for performing the marriage service, the would-be bridegroom held out a thirty shilling note, saying:—
'Marry yourself to this, your reverence, and we'll be happy with your blessing.'
As the persuasive eloquence of another man could not abate the price which his priest demanded for a funeral, he blurted out:—
'Why, the blessed corpse in purgatory would shiver at the thought of costing so much to put away, and we but poor folk, with the pig that contrary we don't know whether the litter will survive.'
Here is a fish story connected with a member of my own family, Miss Clarissa Hussey, who was my aunt, and also a pious Roman Catholic. She used to hospitably entertain her confessor Father Tom, a priest with a keen appreciation of the good things of the table. Among his parishioners it was known that he indicated the value he put on the coming fare by the length of his preliminary grace.
On a certain Friday in Lent he dined with her, and on a huge dish being put down in front of his hostess, he expected a fine salmon, and shutting his eyes proceeded to pronounce a benediction the length of which greatly gratified my aunt. On the cover being removed, however, his face fell, and in severe tones he rebuked her:—
'Was it for bake, ma'am, that I offered up the full grace?'