Well, suppose everything disposed for tomorrow’s feast;—­suppose Phaddhy himself to have butchered the fowl, because Katty, who was not able to bear the sight of blood, had not the heart to kill “the crathurs” and imagine to yourself one of the servant men taking his red-hot tongs out of the fire, and squeezing a large lump of hog’s lard, placed in a grisset, or Kam, on the hearth, to grease all their brogues; then see in your mind’s eye those two fine, fresh-looking girls, slyly take their old rusty fork out of the fire, and going to a bit of three-corned looking-glass, pasted into a board, or, perhaps, to a pail of water, there to curl up their rich-flowing locks, that had hitherto never known a curl but such, as nature gave them.

On one side of the hob sit two striplings, “thryin’ wan another in their catechiz,” that they may be able to answer, with some credit, to-morrow.  On the other hob sits Briney, hard at his syntax, with the Fibulae AEsiopii, as he called it, placed open at a particular passage, on the seat under him, with a hope that, when Philemy will examine him, the book may open at his favorite fable of “Gallus Gallinaceus—­a dung-hill cock.”  Phaddy himself is obliged to fast this day, there being one day of his penance yet unperformed, since the last time he was at his duty; which was, as aforesaid, about five years:  and Katty, now that everything is cleaned up and ready, kneels down in a corner to go over her beads, rocking herself in a placid silence that is only broken by an occasional malediction against the servants, or the cat, when it attempts the abduction of one of the dead fowl.

The next morning the family were up before the sun, who rubbed his eyes, and swore that he must have overslept himself, on seeing such a merry column of smoke dancing over Phaddhy’s chimney.  A large wooden dish was placed upon the threshold of the kitchen door, filled with water, in which, with a trencher of oatmeal for soap,* they successively scrubbed their faces and hands to some purpose.  In a short time afterwards, Phaddhy and the sons were cased, stiff and awkward, in their new suits, with the tops of their fingers just peeping over the sleeve cuffs.  The horses in the stable were turned out to the fields, being obliged to make room for their betters, that were soon expected under the reverend bodies of Father Philemy and his curate; whilst about half a bushel of oats was left in the manger, to regale them on their arrival.  Little Richard Maguire was sent down to the five-acres, with the pigs, on purpose to keep them from about the house, they not being supposed fit company at a set-dinner.  A roaring turf fire, which blazed two yards up the chimney, had been put down; on this was placed a large pot, filled with water for the tea, because they had no kettle.

     * Fact—­Oatmeal is in general substituted for soap, by
     those who cannot afford to buy the latter.