--(Dshk, dshk, dshk*--that's the larnin'!)--He that carries an empty purse may fwhistle at the thief. It's _sing_ in the Latin; but sing or fwhistle, in my opinion, he that goes wid an empty purse seldom sings or fwhistl'es to a pleasant tune. Melancholy music I'd call it, an' wouldn't, may be, be much asthray al'ther--Hem. At all evints, may none of this present congregation, whin at their devotions, ever sing or fwhistle to the same time! No; let it be to 'money in both pockets,' if you sing at all; and as long as you have that, never fear but you'll also have the 'priest in his boots' into the bargain--(“Ha, ha, ha!--God bless him, isn't he the pleasant gentleman, all out--ha, ha, ha!--moreover, an' by the same a token, it's thrue as Gospel, so it is,”)--for well I know you're the high-spirited people, who wouldn't see your priest without them, while a fat parson, with half-a-dozen chins upon him, red and rosy, goes about every day in the week bogged in boots, like a horse-trooper!--(“Ha, ha, ha!--good, Father Dan! More power to you--ha, ha, ha! We're the boys that wouldn't see you in want o' them, sure enough. Isn't he the droll crathur?”) * This sound, which expresses wonder, is produced by striking the tip of the tongue against the palate. “But suppose a man hasn't money, what is he to do? Now this divides itself into what is called Hydrostatics an' Metaphuysics, and must be proved logically in the following manner: “First, we suppose him not to have the money--there I may be wrong or I may be right; now for the illustration and the logic. “Pether Donovan.” “Here, your Reverence.” “Now, Pether, if I suppose you to have no money, am I right, or am I wrong?” “Why, thin, I'd be sarry to prove your Reverence to be wrong, so I would; but, for all that, I believe I must give it aginst you.” “How much have you got, Pether?” “Ethen, but 'tis your Reverence that's comin' close upon me; two or three small note an' some silver.” “How much silver, Pether?” “I'll tell your Reverence in a jiffy--I ought to have a ten shillin', barring the price of a quarther o' tobaccy that I bought at the crass-roads boyant. Nine shillins an' somo hapuns, yer Reverence.” “Very good, Pether, you must hand me the silver, till I give the rest of the illustration wid it.” “But does your Reverence mind another ould proverb?--'a fool an' his money's asy parted.' Sure an' I know you're goin' to do a joke upon me.” (“Give him the money, Pether,” from a hundred voices--“give his Reverence the money, you nager you--give him the silver, you dirty spalpeen you--hand it out, you misert.”) “Pether, if you don't give it dacently, I'll not take it; and in that case--” “Here, here, your Reverence--here it is; sure I wouldn't have your ill-will for all I'm worth.”