“Ay! ay! Down on the nail,” replied the priest.
“Well, in the name o' Goodness, a bargain be it,” said Peter; “but, upon my credit, Ellish, I won't have the bag-pipes burnt, anyhow. Faith, I must hear an odd tune, now an' thin, when I call to see the childhre.”
“Pether, acushla, have sinse. Would you wish to see your daughter-in-law playin' upon the bag-pipes, when she ought to be mindin' her business, or attendin' her childhre? No, your Reverence, the pipes must be laid aside. I'll have no pipery connection for a son of mine.”
The priest consented to this, although Peter conceded it with great reluctance. Further preliminaries were agreed upon, and the evening passed pleasantly, until it became necessary for Mr. Mulcahy to bid them good-night.
When they were gone, Peter and Ellish talked over the matter between themselves in the following dialogue:
“The fortune's a small one,” said Ellish to her husband; “an' I suppose you wondher that I consinted to take so little.”
“Sure enough, I wondhered at it,” replied Peter, “but, for my own part, I'd give my son to her widout a penny o' fortune, in ordher to be connected wid the priest; an' besides, she's a fine, handsome, good girl—ay, an' his fill of a wife, if she had but the shift to her back.”
“Four hundhre wid a priest's niece, Pether, is before double the money wid any other. Don't you know, that when they set up for themselves, he can bring the custom of the whole parish to them? It's unknown the number o' ways he can sarve them in. Sure, at stations an' weddins, wakes, marriages, and funerals, they'll all be proud to let the priest know that they purchased whatever they wanted from his niece an' her husband. Betther!—faix, four hundhre from him is worth three times as much from another.”
“Glory to you, Ellish!—bright an' cute for ever! Why, I'd back you for a woman' that could buy an' sell Europe, aginst the world. Now, isn't it odd that I never think of these long-headed skames?”
“Ay do you, often enough, Pether; but you keep them to yourself, abouchal.”