“To be sure Oi do,” replied Pat.
“And where would you be to-day if the gallows had its due?”
“Oi’d be riding alone,” replied Pat.
Jerry O’Rafferty came from the north of Ireland. During all his life there and later in Chicago he had never been inside a Catholic Church.
He was something of a scoffer at religious ceremonies, although he knew little about them. His good friend, Michael O’Brien, was troubled at this, and always used his influence to get Jerry into the church. At last he was successful. Jerry grudgingly consented to go to church Easter Sunday because of the importance of the occasion.
The two sat together, Jerry an interested spectator, while Mike entered into the services like the devout man he was.
Jerry was soon evidently impressed by the splendor of his surroundings and the grandeur of the services. He watched the lighting of the candles and listened attentively to the glorious burst of Easter music. Then he could refrain from commenting no longer.
“Mike,” he whispered, leaning over to his companion, “this bates h—l.”
“Whist,” replied Mike, in a loud whisper, “sich is the intintion.”