Father  Corrigan  wanted  him  to  dance — '  What ! '
says  he,  '  would  you  have  me  to  bring  on  an
earthquake,  Michael? — but  who  ever  heard  of  a
follower  of  Saint  Domnick,  bound  by  his  vow

to  voluntary  poverty  and  mortification young

couple,  your  health — will  any  body  tell  me  who
mixed  this,  for  they've  knowledge  worth  a  folio

of   the   fathers poverty   and   mortifications,

going  to  shake  his  heel?  By  the  bones  of  St.
Domnick,  I'd  desarve  to  be  suspinded  if  I  did.
Will  no  one  tell  me  who  mixed  this,  I  say,  for
they  had  a  jewel  of  a  hand  at  it? — Och —

'  Let  parsons  prache  and  pray —

Let  priests  too  pray  and  prache,  Sir ;
What's  the  rason  they

Don't  practice  what  they  tache,  Sir?


156  IRELAND

Forral,  orrall,  loll,
Forral,  orrall,  laddy —

Sho  da  slainthah  ma  collenee  agus  ma  bouchalee.
Hoigh,  oigh,  oigh,  healths  all !  gintlemen  seculars !
Molshy,'  says  the  friar  to  my  mother-in-law,
'  send  that  bocaun 78  to  bed — poor  fellow,  he's
almost  off — rouse  yourself,  James!  It's  aisy  to
see  that  he's  but  young  at  it  yet — that's  right —
he's  sound  asleep — just  toss  him  into  bed,  and  in
an  hour  or  so  he'll  be  as  fresh  as  a  daisy.
