Whilst Mave and her daughters were engaged in laying dinner, and in making all the other arrangements necessary for their comfort, the priest took Denis aside, and thus addressed him:-- “Denis, I need scarcely remark that this meeting of our friends is upon no common occasion; that it's neither a wedding, nor a Station, nor a christening, but a gathering of relations for a more honorable purpose than any of them, excepting the Station, which you know is a religious rite. I just mention this privately, lest you might not be properly on your guard, and to prevent any appearance of maneness; or--in short, I hope you have abundance of everything; I hope you have, and that, not for your own sake so much as for that of your son. Remember your boy, and what he's designed for, and don't let the dinner or its concomitants be discreditable to him; for, in fact, it's his dinner, observe, and not yours.” “I'm thankful, I'm deeply thankful, an' for ever oblaged to your Reverence for your kindness; although, widout at all makin' little of it, it wasn't wanted here; never fear, Docthor, there'll be lashings and lavins.” “Well, but make that clear, Denis; here now are near two dozen of us, and you say there are more to come, and all the provision I see for them is a shoulder of mutton, a goose, and something in that large pot on the fire, which I suppose is hung beef.” “Thrue for you, sir, but you don't know that we've got a tarin' fire down in the barn, where there's two geese more and two shouldhers of mutton to help what you seen--not to mintion a great big puddin', an' lots of other things. Sure you might notice Mave and the girls runnin' in an' out to attind the cookin' of it.” “Enough, Denis, that's sufficient; and now, between you and me, I say your son will be the load-star of Maynooth, winch out-tops anything I said of him yet.” “There's a whole keg of whiskey, Docthor.” “I see nothing, to prevent him from being a bishop; indeed, it's almost certain, for he can't be kept back.” “I only hope your Reverence will be livin' when he praches his first sarmon. I have the dam of the coult still, an a wink's as good as a nod, please your Reverence.” “A strong letter in his favor to the President of Maynooth will do him no harm,” said the priest.