“Yes, there is undoubtedly comfort in, that reflection; and depend upon it, my dear mother, that I'll be sure to clinch your masses in the surest mode. I'll not fly over them like Camilla across a field of potato oats, without discommoding a single walk, as too many of my worthy brethren--I mane as! too many of those whose worthy brother I will soon be--do in this present year of grace. I'm no fool at the Latin, but, as I'm an unworthy candidate for Maynooth, I cannot even understand every fifteenth word they say when reading mass, independently of the utter scorn with which they treat; these two Scholastic old worthies, called! Syntax and Prosody.” “Denis,” said the father, “nothing would give me greater delight than to be present at your first mass, an' your first sarmon; and next to that I would like to be stumpin' about wid a dacent staff in my hand, maybe wid a bit of silver on the head of it, takin' care of your place when you'd have a parish.” “At all events, if you're not with me, father, I'll keep you comfortable wherever you'll be, whether in this world or the other; for, plase goodness, I'll have some influence in both.--When I get a parish, however, it is not improbable that I may have occasion to see company; the neighboring gentlemen will be apt to relish my society, particularly those who are addicted to conviviality; and our object will be to render ourselves as populous as possible; now, whether in that case it would be compatible--but never fear, father, whilst I have the means, you or one of the family shall never want.” “Will you let the people be far behind in their dues, Denis?” inquired Brian. “No, no--leave that point to my management. Depend upon it, I'll have them like mice before me--ready to run into the first augerhole they meet. I'll collect lots of oats, and get as much yarn every year as would clothe three regiments of militia, or, for that matther, of dragoons. I'll appoint my stations, too, in the snuggest farmers' houses in the parish, just as Father Finnerty, our worthy parochial priest, ingeniously contrives to do. And, to revert secondarily to the collection of the oats, I'll talk liberally to the Protestant boddaghs; give the Presbyterians a learned homily upon civil and religious freedom: make hard hits with them at that Incubus, the Established Church; and, never fear, but I shall fill bag after bag with good corn from many of both creeds.” “That,” said Brian, “will be givin' them the bag to hould in airnest.” “No, Brian, but it will be makin' them fill the bag when I hold it, which will be better still.” “But,” said Susan, “who'll keep house for you? You know that a priest can't live widout a housekeeper.”