"For nothing indeed! Where would I be getting the coat on my back, and the roof over my head?--no, the poor themselves always make out something for me; and you, Denis, that are comfortable, would of course be sorry to set a bad example to those that are not so." "Oh then, yer riverence is poking yer fun at me." "No fun at all, Denis. If you that have the money don't pay your priest, who is to, I'd like to know. Fun indeed! no, but it's good earnest I'm talking; and if you have a character that you wish to support, and to give your children after you, it's now you should be looking to it." Denis McGovery began twirling his hat round in his hand, and bending his knees, as if nonplussed. He had known well enough, beforehand, what the priest would say to him, and the priest too, what answer he would get. The question in these cases is, which would cajole the other the best, and of course the priest would have the best of it. This may seem odd to those who do not know the country; but did he not do so, the Roman Catholic clergyman could not get even the moderate remuneration which he does receive for his laborious services. "Oh, yer riverence," continued Denis, attempting a grim smile, "you know it's the young woman, or her friends, as always pays the priest mostly." "And who is the young woman, Denis; Betsy Cane, isn't it?" "No, Father John," said Denis, blushing almost black through his dark skin; "it ain't Betsy." "Not Betsy Cane! why she told me three weeks ago you were to be married to her." "And so I was, yer riverence, only ye see for a mistake as happened." "A mistake! Was it she made the mistake or you?" "Why it warn't exactly herself thin as did it; it war her mother." "Her mother made a mistake! What mistake did her mother make?" "Along of the cow, yer riverence." Denis seemed very slow of explaining, and Father John began to be impatient. "What cow, Denis? How did the mother's making a mistake about the cow prevent your marrying her daughter?" "Why, yer riverence, then, if you'll let me, I'll jist explain the matter. Ould Betsy Cane--that's her mother you know--promised me the brown cow, yer riverence may know, as is in the little garden behint the cabin, for her dater's fortin; and says I to her, 'Well, may be she may be worth four pound tin, Mrs. Cane.' 'Four pound tin,' says she, 'Mr. McGovery; and you to know no better than that, and she to calve before Christmas! well then, four pound tin indeed,'--jist in that manner, yer riverence. Well then I looks at the cow, and she seemed a purty sort of a cow, and I agreed to the bargain, yer honer, purviding the cow turned out to be with calf. Well, yer honer, now it's no such thing, but it's sticking me she was entirely about, the cow: so now she got the cow and her daughter both at home; and likely to for me." "And so, Denis, you broke your promise, and refused to marry the girl you were engaged to, because a cow was not in calf?"