‘Bad news for the twelfth,’ says Father Madden, ‘to have an ould stone barrin’ him out of the world that way;’ and with that they all laughed, all but the Maw, an’ he was as pale as death an’ stupid-like, for the three hundred years were just run out, an’ he was the eleventh heir; but in a minute or two he recovered himself and joined in the laugh as well as the rest. ‘Well, my man,’ says he at last, ‘you have done what all the learned men in the land couldn’t do, an’ though the news isn’t the pleasantest, you must have your reward. Now listen to me: give up your wandering life and settle here; I’ll give you a house an’ five acres free of rent for ever: this money will set you up, an’ I promise you that you shall never want in my time, short as it is to be. Will you take my offer?’ ‘Why, thin,’ says the spalpeen, ‘many thanks by coorse to yer honour for makin’ it; but for all the land yer honour has, or one of your name ever had, I wouldn’t live other than I do: though I’m here now, ’tis many a mile from where I slept last night, or maybe from where I’ll sleep to-night. Goold or silver avails me little, or if they did, maybe I could tell where to find what ’ud buy Galway ten times over.’ ‘Bedad, honest man,’ says Father Madden, ‘if you know so much as all that, it ’ud be a great charity entirely for you to stop awhile an’ open school here; I’ll be bound you’ll have a fine lot of scholars, an’ I don’t say but myself ’ud be among the number.’ ‘Troth there’s many a man ’ud like to have my knowledge, I have no doubt,’ says the spalpeen; ‘but I’m thinkin’ there’s few here or elsewhere ’ud like to learn in the school where I got it.’ ‘Lord save us!’ says the priest; ‘you didn’t sell yourself to the ould boy for it, did you, you nasty brute?’ ‘I bought it with the past an’ not with the future,’ says the spalpeen; ‘an’ what ye saw of it is nothing to what I could show if I had a mind: the blessin’ of the poor be with your honour, if it be any use to you, an’ it’s wishin’ I am that I had a luckier story to tell you,’ and he turned to go away. ‘Well, my good fellow,’ says the Maw, ‘any how you’re not goin’ to quit so soon. Neither gentle nor simple passes this road without eating with the Mac Coghlan, an’ you must follow the rule as well as another: stay as long as you like, an’ go when you like; an’ I give you my word you shall have the best of tratement, an’ no one shall bother you with any questions you don’t like.’ ‘Yer honour,’ says the spalpeen, ‘I’m not a young man, an’ yet my head was never this many a night twice on the same pillow, an’ you’d be a long day findin’ out the spot that in that time I hav’n’t visited.’ ‘Maybe you’re the Wanderin’ Jew,’ exclaimed Father Madden.