“Theojollyological vartues; the four sins that cry to heaven for vingeance; the five carnal vartues—prudence, justice, timptation, and solitude; (* Temperance and fortitude) the seven deadly sins; the eight grey attitudes—”
“Grey attitudes! Oh, the Boeotian!” exclaimed his Eeverence, “listen to the way in which he's playing havoc among them. Stop, sir,” for Kelly was going on at full speed—“Stop, sir. I tell you it's not gray attitudes, but bay attitudes—doesn't every one know the eight beatitudes?”
“The eight bay attitudes; the nine ways of being guilty of another's sins; the ten commandments; the twelve fruits of a Christian; the fourteen stations of the cross; the fifteen mystheries of the passion—”
“Kelly,” said his Eeverence, interrupting him, and heralding, the joke, for so it was intended, with a hearty chuckle, “you're getting fast out of your teens, ma bouchal?” and this was of course, honored with a merry peal; extorted as much by an effort of softening the rigor of examination, as by the traditionary duty which entails upon the Irish laity the necessity of laughing at a priest's jokes, without any reference at all to their quality. Nor was his Reverence's own voice the first to subside into that gravity which became the solemnity of the occasion; or even whilst he continued the interrogatories, his eye was laughing at the conceit with which it was evident the inner man was not competent to grapple. “Well, Kelly, I can't say but you've answered very well, as far as the repealing of them goes; but do you perfectly understand all the commandments of the church?”
“I do, sir,” replied Kelly, whose confidence kept pace with his Reverence's good-humor.
“Well, what is meant by the fifth?”
“The fifth, sir?” said the other, rather confounded—“I must begin agin, sir, and go on till I come to it.”
“Well,” said the priest, “never mind that; but tell us what the eighth means?”
Kelly stared at him a second time, but was not able to advance “First—Sundays and holidays, mass thou shalt hear;” but before he had proceeded to the second, a person who stood at his elbow began to whisper to him the proper reply, and in the act of so doing received a lash of the whip across the ear for his pains.
“You blackguard, you!” exclaimed Father Philemy, “take that—how dare you attempt to prompt any person that I'm examining?”