The Ned M'Keown Stories: Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of; William Carleton, Volume ThreeCarleton, William
General
The Ned M'Keown Stories: Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of; William Carleton, Volume Three
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“When the dinner was over, you would think there was as much left as
would sarve a regiment; and sure enough, a right hungry ragged regiment
was there to take care of it--though, to tell the truth, there was as
much taken into Finigan's as would be sure to give us all a rousing
supper. Why, there was such a troop of beggars--men, women, and
childher, sitting over on the sunny side of the ditch, as would make
short work of the whole dinner, had they got it. Along with Father
Corrigan and me, was my father and mother, and Mary's parents; my uncle,
cousins, and nearest relations on both sides. Oh, it's Father Corrigan,
God rest his sowl, he's now in glory, and so he was then, also--how he
did crow and laugh! 'Well, Matthew Finigan,' says-he, 'I can't say but
I'm happy that your Colleen Bawn here has lit upon a husband that's no
discredit to the family--and it is herself didn't drive her pigs to
a bad market,' says he. 'Why, in troth, Father avourneen,' says my
mother-in law, 'they'd be hard to plase that couldn't be satisfied with
them she got; not saying but she had her pick and choice of many a
good offer, and might have got richer matches; but Shane Fadh M'Cawell
although you're sitting there beside my daughter, I'm prouder to see you
on my own flure, the husband of my child, nor if she'd got a man with
four times your substance.'
“'Never heed the girls for knowing where to choose,' says his Reverence,
slyly enough: 'but, upon my word, only she gave us all the slip, to tell
the truth, I had another husband than Shane in my eye for her, and that
was my own nevvy, Father James's brother here.'
“'And I'd be proud of the connection,' says my father-in-law, 'but you
see, these girls won't look much to what you or I'll say, in choosin' a
husband for themselves. How-and-iver, not making little of your nevvy,
Father Michael, I say he's not to be compared with that same bouchal
sitting beside Mary there.'
“'No, nor by the powdhers-o-war, never will,' says Billy M'Cormick the
tailor, who had come over and slipped in on the other side betune Father
Corrigan and the bride--'by the powdhers-o' war, he'll never be fit to
be compared with me, I tell you, till yesterday comes back again.'
“'Why, Billy,' says the priest, 'you're every place.' 'But where I ought
to be!' says Billy; 'and that's hard and fast tackled to Mary Bane, the
bride here, instead of that steeple of a fellow she has got,' says the
little cock.
“'Billy, I thought you were married,' said Father Corrigan.
“'Not I, your Reverence,' says Billy;' but I'll soon do something,
Father Michael--I have been threatening this longtime, but I'll do it at
last'
“'He's not exactly married, Sir, says my uncle 'but there's a colleen
present' (looking at the bridesmaid) 'that will soon have his name upon
her.'
“'Very good, Billy,' says the priest, 'I hope you will give us a rousing
wedding-equal, at least, to Shane Fadh's.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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