“Verum est pro te,—it’s thrue for you,” says his Riv’rence, forgetting the idyim ov the Latin phwraseology, in a manner.
“Prava est tua Latinitas, domine,” says the Pope, finding fault like wid his etymology.
“Parva culpa mihi,” “small blame to me, that is,” says his Riv’rence; “nam multum laboro in partibus interioribus,” says he—the dear man! that never was at a loss for an excuse!
“Quid tibi incommodi?” says the Pope, axing him what ailed him.
“Habesne id quod Anglicè vocamus, a looking-glass,” says his Riv’rence.
“Immo, habeo speculum splendidissimum subther operculum pyxidis hujus starnutatoriæ,” says the Pope, pulling out a beautiful goold snuff-box, wid a looking-glass in under the lid; “Subther operculum pyxidis hujus starnutatorii—no—starnutatoriæ—quam dono accepi ab Archi-duce Austhriaco siptuagisima prætheritâ,” says he; as much as to say that he got the box in a prisint from the Queen ov Spain last Lint, if I rightly remimber.
Well, Father Tom laughed like to burst. At last, says he, “Pather Sancte,” says he, “sub errore jaces. ‘Looking-glass’ apud nos habet significationem quamdam peculiarem ex tempore diei dependentem”—there was a sthring ov accusatives for yez!—“nam mane speculum sonat,” says he, “post prandium vero mat—mat—mat”—sorra be in me but I disremimber the classic appellivation ov the same article. Howandiver, his Riv’rence went on explaining himself in such a way as no scholar could mistake. “Vesica mea,” says he, “ab illo ultimo eversore distenditur, donc similis est rumpere. Verbis apertis,” says he, “Vesthræ Sanctitatis præsentia salvata, aquam facere valde desidhero.”
“Ho, ho, ho!” says the Pope, grabbing up his box; “si inquinavisses meam pyxidem, excimnicari debuisses. Hillo, Anthony,” says he to his head butler, “fetch Misther Maguire a——”
“You spoke first!” says his Riv’rence, jumping off his sate: “You spoke first in the vernacular. I take Misther Anthony to witness,” says he.
“What else would you have me to do?” says the Pope, quite dogged like to see himself bate thataway at his own waypons. “Sure,” says he, “Anthony wouldn’t undherstand a B from a bull’s foot, if I spoke to him any other way.”