“I also,” said Dionysius, “am in state of evaporation and uncertainty touching the same point. However, this I can affirm with veracity, that if I am rejected, my mind is made up to pursue an antithetical course of life altogether. If he rejects me now, he will never reject me again.” “Musha, how--Denny--Dionysis, avick? What do you mane?” said the father. “I will give,” said the son, “what is designated a loose translation of my meaning to Mr. Finnerty here, if I find that I am excluded on this occasion.” “And if you do succeed,” said the priest, “I would advise you to hire a loose translator during the remainder of your residence among us; for upon my veracity, Dionysius, the King's English will perform hard duty until you enter Maynooth. Not a word under six feet will be brought into the ranks--grenadiers every one of them, not to mention the thumpers you will coin.” “Come, Docthor Finnerty,” said our candidate, pulling up a little, “if the base Latin which you put into circulation were compared with my English thumpers, it would be found that of the two, I am more legitimate and etymological.” “I shall be happy to dispute that point with you another time,” said the priest, “when we can--Silence, here comes the Counsellor.” “Mr. O'Shaughnessy,” said the lawyer, addressing the candidate, “allow me to congratulate you on your success! Your business is accomplished. The Bishop is just finishing a letter for you to the President of Maynooth. I assure you, I feel great pleasure at your success.” “Accept my thanks, sir,” said Denis, whose eye was instantly lit up with delight--“accept my most obsequious thanks to the very furthest extent of my gratitude.” The Barrister then shook hands with old Denis. “O'Shaughnessy,” said he, “I am very happy that I have had it in my power to serve you and your son.” “Counsellor,” said Denis, seizing his hand in both of his--“Counsellor, _ahagur machree_ Counsellor, oh, what--what--can I say!--Is he--is it possible--is it thruth that my boy is to go to Maynewth this time? Oh, if you knew, but knew, the heavy, dead weight you tuck off o' my heart! Our son not cast aside--not disgraced!--for what else would the people think it? The horse!--a poor bit of a coult--a poor unsignified animal! To the devil wid him. What is he compared to the joy an' delight of this minute? Take him, sir; take him--an' if he was worth his weight in goold, I vow to Heaven above me, I'd not think him too good. Too good!--no, nor half good enough for you. God remimber this to you! an' he will, too. Little you know the happiness you have given us, Counsellor! Little you know it. But no matther! An' you, too, Father Finnerty, helped to bring this about. But sure you were ever an' always our friend! Well, no matther--no matther! God will reward you both.” “My brother wishes me to see Mr. Finnerty and your son,” said the barrister; “I think they had better go up to him. He is anxious to get a slip of your shrub, Mr. Finnerty.”