When the priest saw Leeam, off and away with him, and he crying out: “In the name of God, I order you back to your grave, William O’Rooney.”
Leeam began running after the priest, and saying, “Father Patrick, Father Patrick, are you mad? Wait and speak to me.”
The priest would not wait for him, but made off home as fast as his feet could carry him, and when he got into the house, he shut the door. Leeam was knocking at the door till he was tired, but the priest would not let him in. At last, he put his head out of a window in the top of the house, and said: “William O’Rooney, go back to your grave.”
“You’re mad, Father Patrick! I’m not dead, and never was in a grave since I was born,” said Leeam.
“I saw you dead,” said the priest; “you died suddenly, and I was present when you were put into the grave, and made a fine sermon over you.”
“The devil from me, but, as sure as I’m alive, you’re mad!” said Leeam.
“Go out of my sight now,” said the priest, “and I’ll read a mass for you, to-morrow.”
Leeam went home then, and knocked at his own door, but his wife would not let him in. Then he said to himself: “I may as well go and pay my rent now.” On his way to the landlord’s house every one who saw Leeam was running before him, for they thought he was dead. When the landlord heard that Leeam O’Rooney was coming, he shut the doors and would not let him in. Leeam began knocking at the hall-door till the lord thought he’d break it in. He came to a window in the top of the house, put out his head, and asked: “What are you wanting?”
“I’m come to pay my rent like an honest man,” said Leeam.
“Go back to your grave, and I’ll forgive you your rent,” said the lord.