“Very true, Mrs. Connell! But for all that, I won't give up Dan's judgment in anything within his own line of business, still excepting theology, for which, he hasn't the learning.”
“He's a good son, without tayology—as good as ever broke the world's bread,” said Peter, “glory be to God! Although, for that matther, he ought to be as well acquainted wid tayology as your Reverence, in regard that he sells more of it nor you do.”
“A good son, they say, Mrs. Connell, will make a good husband. I wonder you don't think of settling him in life. It's full time.”
“Father, avourneen, we must lave that wid himself. I needn't be tellin' you, that it 'ud be hard to find a girl able to bring what the girl that 'ud expect Dan ought to bring.”
This was a staggerer to the priest, who recruited his ingenuity by drinking Peter's health, and Ellish's.
“Have you nobody in your eye for him, Mrs. Connell?”
“Faith, I'll engage she has,” replied Peter, with a ludicrous grin—“I'll venture for to say she has that.”
“Very right, Mrs. Connell; it's all fair. Might one ask who she is; for, to tell you the truth, Dan is a favorite of mine, and must make it a point to see him well settled.”
“Why, your Reverence,” replied Peter again, “jist the one you mintioned.”
“Who? I? Why I mentioned nobody.”