[5] A sly rogue.

“I didn’t come to that yet, sir,” replied Jim, scratching his head.

“I wouldn’t fear you, you bosthoon.  Well, listen, and I’ll tell you.  It’s the day when you’ll all have to settle your accounts, and I’m thinking there’ll be a heavy score against some of you, if you don’t mind what I’m saying to you.  When that day comes, I’ll walk up to Heaven and rap at the hall door.  Then St. Pether, who will be takin’ a nap after dinner in his arm-chair, inside, and not liking ta be disturbed, will call out mighty surly, ‘Who’s there?’”

“‘It’s I, my Lord,’ I’ll make answer.

“Av course, he’ll know my voice, and, jumping up like a cricket, he’ll open the door as wide as the hinges will let it, and say quite politely—­

“‘I’m proud to see you here, Father Frank.  Walk in, if you plase.’

“Upon that I’ll scrape my feet, and walk in, and then St. Pether will say agin—­

“’Well, Father Frank, what have you got to say for yourself?  Did you look well afther your flock; and mind to have them all christened, and married, and buried, according to the rites of our holy church?’

“Now, good people, I’ve been forty-five years amongst you, and didn’t I christen every mother’s soul of you?”

Congregation.—­You did,—­you did,—­your Rivirence.

Father Frank.—­Well, and didn’t I bury the most of you, too?

Congregation.—­You did, your Rivirence.

Father Frank.—­And didn’t I do my best to get dacent matches for all your little girls?  I And didn’t I get good wives for all the well-behaved boys in my parish?—­Why don’t you spake up, Mick Donovan?

Mick.—­You did, your Rivirence.

Father Frank.—­Well, that’s settled:—­but then St. Pether will say—­“Father Frank,” says he, “you’re a proper man; but how did your flock behave to you—­did they pay you your dues regularly?” Ah! good Christians, how shall I answer that question?  Put it in my power to say something good of you:  don’t be ashamed to come up and pay your priest’s dues.  Come,—­make a lane there, and let ye all come up with conthrite hearts and open hands.  Tim Delaney!—­make way for Tim:—­how much will you give, Tim?

Tim.—­I’ll not be worse than another, your Riverence.  I’ll give a crown.

Father Frank.—­Thank you, Timothy:  the dacent drop is in you.  Keep a lane, there!—­any of ye that hasn’t a crown, or half-a-crown, don’t be bashful of coming up with your hog or your testher.[6]

    [6] A shilling or a sixpence.

And thus Father Frank went on encouraging and wheedling his flock to pay up his dues, until he had gone through his entire congregation, when I left the chapel, highly amused at the characteristic scene I had witnessed.

X.

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