“Well, to them that's in a hurry I've a word to say.”
“What is it, Mogue?”
“Why, it is this, take your time—ever an' always, when you happen to be in a hurry—take your time.”
“Maybe, Mogue,” they replied, “if you were widout your breakfast, as we are, you wouldn't say so.”
“Why, did'nt yez get your breakfasts yet?”
“Devil a morsel.”
“Well, to them that didn't get their breakfasts I have another word to say.”
“What is it, Mogue?”
“Why, have patience—ever and always when you're hungry, have patience, and you'll find it a great relief; it'll fill you and keep you in good condition—that I mayn't sin but it will! But, sure, I've got news for yez, boys,” he added; “Masther John bid me tell you that, after about a month or so it'll be contrary to law to get hungry: there's an act o' parliament goin' to be made against it, you see; so that any villain disloyal enough to get hungry, if it's proved against him, will be liable to transportation. That I mayn't sin but it'll be a great comfort for the country—I mane, to have hunger made contrary to act o' parliament.”
Mogue Moylan was, indeed, a fellow of a very original and peculiar character. Grave, sly, and hypocritical, yet apparently quiet and not susceptible of strong or vehement emotions, he was, nevertheless, more suggestive of evil designs and their fulfilment than any man, perhaps, in his position of life that ever existed. Though utterly without spirit, or the slightest conception of what personal courage meant, the reader not be surprised that he was also vindictive, and consequently treacherous and implacable. He could project crime and outrage with a felecity of diabolical invention that was almost incredible. He was, besides, close and cautious, unless when he thought that he could risk a falsehood with safety; and, in the opinion of some few who knew him, not merely dishonest, but an actual thief. His manner, too, was full of plausible assumption of great conscientiousness and simplicity. He seemed always calm and cool, was considered rather of a religious turn, and always expressed a strong horror against cursing or swearing in any shape. Indeed he had a pat anecdote, which he occasionally told, of a swoon or faint into which he usually fell, when a youth of about nineteen, in consequence of having been forced to take a book oath, for the first time, another act against which he entertained a peculiar antipathy. Now, all this was indeed very singular and peculiar; but he accounted for it by the scrupulous love of truth with which not only he himself, but his whole family, many of whom he said had given their lives for their country, were affected. The only foible that could be brought to the charge of honest Mogue, was a singular admiration for his own visage, which he never omitted to survey with remarkable complacency several times a day in a broken piece of looking, glass, which he kept for that especial purpose. This, and its not unnatural consequences a belief that almost ever female who spoke to him with civility was smitten by his face and figure, constituted the only two weaknesses in a character otherwise so spotless and perfect as that of Mogue Moylan. Mogue was also a good deal subject to the influence of the pathetic, especially when he alluded to the misfortune, glory be to God, which had befallen the family, in the person of a lone line of ancestors, and especially in that of big poor, simple father, whose word, as every one knew, was as good as his oath; and, indeed, very few doubted that remarkable fact, but who, notwithstanding had been transported during the space of seven years for suspicion of perjury; “for didn't the judge tell him, when he passed sentence upon him, that if he had been found guilty all out, or of anything beyant suspicion of it, he would be transported for life; 'an' instead of that,' said the judge, 'bekaise I persave,' says he, 'that you're an honest man, an' has been sworn against wrongfully in this business, and bekaise I see clearly that you love the truth, the sentence of the coort is,' says he, sheddin' tears, 'that you're to be transported only for seven years, an' you lave the coort an' the counthry,' says he, 'widout at stain upon your character—it's only the law that's against you—so, God be wid you,' the judge went on, wipin' his eyes, 'and grant you a safe and pleasant voyage acrass,' says he, an' he cried for some minutes like a child. That an' the unjust hangin' of my poor, simple ould grandfather for horse-stearin'—that is, for suspicion of horse-stealin'—is the only two misfortunes, thank God, that has been in our family of late days.”