"_Eversor_, id est cyathus," says his Riv'rence, "nam apud nos _tumbleri_, seu eversores, dicti sunt ab evertendo ceremonian inter amicos; non, ut Temperantiæ Societatis frigidis fautoribus placet, ab evertendis ipsis potatoribus." (It's not every masther unher the Boord, I tell you, could carry such a car-load ov the dead langidges.) "In agro vero Louthiano et Midensi," says he, "nomine gaudent quodam secundum linguam Anglicanam significante bombardam seu tormentum; quia ex eis tanquam ex telis jaculatoriis liquorem faucibus immitere solent. Etiam inter hæreticos illos melanostomos" (that was a touch of Greek), "Presbyterianos Septentrionales, qui sunt terribiles potatores, Cyathi dicti sunt _faceres_, et dimidium Cyathi _hæf-a-glessus_. Dimidium Cyathi vero apud Metropolitanos Hibernicos dicitur _dandy_."-- "En verbum Anglicanum!" says the Pope, clapping his hands--"leporem te fecisti;" as much as to say that he had made a hare ov himself. "_Dandæus, dandæus_, verbum erat," says his Riv'rence--oh, the dear man, but it's himself that was handy ever and always at getting out ov a hobble--"_dandæus_ verbum erat," says he, "quod dicturus eram, cum me intherpillavisti." "Ast ego dico," says the Pope, very sharp, "quod verbum erat _dandy_." "Per tibicinem qui coram Mose modulatus est," says his Riv'rence, "id flagellat mundum! _Dandæus_ dixi, et tu dicis _dandy_; ergo tu es lepus, non ego--Ah, ha! Saccavi vesthram Sanctitatem!" "Mendacium est!" says the Pope, quite forgetting himself, he was so mad at being sacked before the sarvints. Well, if it hadn't been that his Holiness was in it, Father Tom 'ud have given him the contints of his tumbler betuxt the two eyes for calling him a liar; and, in troth, it's very well it was in Latin the offince was conveyed, for, if it had been in the vernacular, there's no saying what 'ud ha' been the consequence. His Riv'rence was mighty angry anyhow.--"Tu senex lathro," says he, "quomodo audes me mendacem prædicare?" "Et tu, sacrilege nebulo," says the Pope, "quomodo audacitatem habeas, me Dei in terris vicarium, lathronem conviciari?" "Interroga circumcirca," says his Riv'rence. "Abi ex ædibus meis," says the Pope. "Abi tu in malem crucem," says his Riv'rence. "Excomunicabo te," says the Pope. "Diabolus curat," says his Riv'rence. "Anathema sis," says the Pope. "Oscula meum pod," says his Riv'rence--but, my dear, afore he could finish what he was going to say, the Pope broke out into the vernacular, "Get out o' my house, you reprobate!" says he, in sich a rage that he could contain himself widin the Latin no longer.