“I did not,” said Padna. “Who the blazes was he?”
“He was a distant relation of my own on the wife’s side, and so called because he was the best man in a town of two dozen inhabitants,” said Micus.
“And what did he do for a living at all?” said Padna.
“He was a mason by trade, and ’tis said that he built more ditches than all the kings in Christendom put together, and there wasn’t a better birdcatcher in the whole country than himself. Well, after he had worked some forty years or more in all kinds of weather, he found himself at last on the flat of his back in the Poorhouse Hospital, and no better to look at than an old sweeping brush worn to the stump and kept in the back yard for beating the dogs. And there he remained pining away like a snowball in the sun, until one day the doctor, who wanted a little exercise and diversion, approached him and ses: ‘Good morrow, Malachi, King of Goulnaspurra,’ ses he.
“‘Good morrow kindly and good luck,’ ses Malachi. ‘What’s the best news to-day?’
“‘Oh,’ ses the doctor, ‘the poor are thought as little about as ever, and the same friendly relations exist between the clergy and the rich.’
“‘God forgive the clergy for their respectability. It spoils some to make gentlemen of them,’ ses Malachi.
“‘That’s true,’ ses the doctor, ‘but now as regards yourself, I want to tell you that you needn’t worry about looking for a job any more, because you will either be above with St. Patrick and his chums by this day week, or somewhere else. It all depends on how you behaved yourself.’
“‘Won’t you take a chair and sit down for awhile?’ ses Malachi. ‘That’s the first bit of strange news I have had since I heard that England made the discovery that the most stupid thing she ever did was to treat the Irish badly.’
“‘Thanks for your kind offer,’ ses the doctor, ‘but I am in a hurry to-day. I think that I prescribed arsenic instead of olive oil for one of my patients in Tipperary last week. So I must go and see how he is getting along, and if I don’t get there in time to cure him inself, I’ll be in time for the funeral, though ’tis against the rules of my profession to attend the funerals of your patients, whether you are responsible or not for their death. But ’tis all the same to us. We get paid anyway.’