He shook the poor scholar by the hand, and drawing his hat over his eyes, passed hurriedly out of the room. Alley stooped down, kissed his lips, and wept; and the children each embraced him with that mingled feeling of compassion and respect which is uniformly entertained for the poor scholar in Ireland.
The boy felt as if he had been again separated from his parents; with a sobbing bosom and wet cheeks he bid them farewell, and mounting one of the carts was soon beyond sight and hearing of the kind-hearted farmer and his family.
When the cart had proceeded about a mile, it stopped, and one of the men who accompanied it addressing a boy who passed with two sods of turf under his arm, desired him to hurry on and inform his master that they waited for him.
“Tell Misther Corcoran to come into coort,” said the man, laughing, “my Lordship's waitin' to hear his defince for intindin' not to run away wid Miss Judy Malowny. Tell him Lord Garty's ready to pass sintince on him for not stalin' the heart of her wid his Rule o' Three. Ha! by the holy farmer, you'll get it for stayin' from school to this hour. Be quick, abouchal!”
In a few minutes the trembling urchin, glad of any message that might serve to divert the dreaded birch from himself, entered the, uproarious “Siminary,” caught his forelock, bobbed down his head to the master, and pitched his “two sods” into a little'heap of turf which lay in the corner of the school.
“Arrah, Pat Roach, is this an hour to inter into my establishment wid impunity? Eh, you Rosicrusian?”
“Masther, sir,” replied the adroit monkey, “I've a message for you, sir, i' you plase.”
“An' what might the message be, Masther; Pat Roach? To dine to-day wid your worthy father, abouchal?”
“No, sir; it's from one o' Mr. Lanigan's boys—him that belongs to the carts, sir; he wants to spake to you, sir, i' you plase.”
“An' do you give that by way of an apologetical oration for your absence from the advantages of my tuition until this hour? However, non constat Patrici; I'll pluck the crow wid you on my return. If you don't find yourself a well-flogged youth for your 'mitchin,' never say that this right hand can administer condign punishment to that part of your physical theory which constitutes the antithesis to your vacuum caput. En et ewe, you villain,” he added, pointing to the birch, “it's newly cut and trimmed, and pregnant wid alacrity for the operation. I correct, Patricius, on fundamental principles, which you'll soon feel to your cost.”