At this moment Darby Moran, Denis's old foe entered, and his reception was cordial, and, if the truth were known, almost magnanimous on the part of Denis.
“Darby Moran,” said he, “not a man, barrin' his Reverence here, in the parish we sit in, that I'm prouder to see on my flure—give me your hand, man alive, and Mave and all of ye welcome him. Everything of what you know is buried between us, and you're bound to welcome him, if it was only in regard of the handsome way he spoke of our son this day—here's my own chair, Darby, and sit down.”
“Throth,” said Darby, after shaking hands with the priest and greeting the rest of the company, “the same boy no one could spake ill of; and, although we and his people were not upon the best footin', still the sarra one o' me but always gave him his due.”
“Indeed, I believe you, Darby,” said his father; “but are you comfortable? Draw your chair nearer the fire—the evenin's gettin' cowld.”
“I'm very well, Denis, I thank you;—nearer the fire! Faix, except you want to have me roasted along wid that shoulder of mutton and goose, I think I can't go much nearer it.”
“I'm sorry, you wasn't in sooner, Darby, till you'd hear what Docthor Finnerty here—God spare him long among us—said of Denis a while ago. Docthor, if it wouldn't be makin' too free, maybe you'd oblage me wid repatin' it over again?”
“I can never have any hesitation,” replied the priest, “in repeating anything to his advantage—I stated, Darby, that young Misther O'Shaughnessy was a youth of whom my opinion was decidedly peculiar—keep basting; child, you're forgetting the goose now; did you never see a priest's boots before?”
“An' nobody has a better right to know nor yourself, wherever larnin' and education's consarned,” said the father.
“Why, it's not long since I examined him myself; I say it sitting here, and I believe every one that hears me is present; and during the course of the examination I was really astonished. The translations, and derivations, and conjugations, and ratiocinations, and variations, and investigations that he gave, were all the most remarkably original I ever heard. He would not be contented with the common sense of a passage; but he'd keep hunting, and hawking, and fishing about for something that was out of the ordinary course of reading, that I was truly struck with his eccentric turn of genius.”
“You think he'll pass the Bishop with great credit, Docthor?”