“Why, thin, 'tis a long journey you have before you, alanna, for I know well it's for Munster you're bound.”
“Thrue for you; 'tis there, wid the help of God, I'm goin'. A great scarcity of larnin' was in my own place, or I wouldn't have to go at all,” said the boy, whilst his eyes filled with, tears.
“'Tis no discredit in life,” replied the countryman, with untaught natural delicacy, for he perceived that a sense of pride lingered about the boy which made the character of poor scholar sit painfully upon him; “'tis no discredit, dear, nor don't be cast down. I'll warrant you that God will prosper you; an' that He may, avick, I pray this day!” and as he spoke, he raised his hat in reverence to the Being whom he invoked. “An' tell me, dear—where do you intend to sleep to-night?”
“In the town forrid here,” replied Jemmy. “I'm in hopes I'll be able to reach it before dark.”
“Pooh! asy you will. Have you any friends or acquaintances there that 'ud welcome you, a bouchal dhas (my handsome boy)?”
“No, indeed,” said Jemmy, “they're all strangers to me; but I can stop in 'dhry lodgin',' for it's chaper.”
“Well, alanna, I believe you; but I'm no stranger to you—so come home wid me to-night; where you'll get a good bed, and betther thratement nor in any of their dhry lodgins. Give me your books, and I'll carry them for you. Ethen, but you have a great batch o' them entirely. Can you make any hand o' the Latin at all yet?”
“No, indeed,” replied Jemmy, somewhat sorrowfully; “I didn't ever open a Latin book, at all at all.”
“Well, acushla, everything has a beginnin';—you won't be so. An' I know by your face that you'll be bright at it, an' a credit to them owes (* owns) you. There's my house in the fields beyant, where you'll be well kept for one night, any way, or for twinty, or for ten times twinty, if you wanted them.”
The honest farmer then commenced the song of Colleen dhas Crotha na Mho (* The pretty girl milking her cow), which he sang in a clear mellow voice, until they reached the house.