The Station; The Party Fight And Funeral; The Lough Derg Pilgrim: Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of; William Carleton, Volume ThreeCarleton, William
General
The Station; The Party Fight And Funeral; The Lough Derg Pilgrim: Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of; William Carleton, Volume Three
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
At twelve o'clock that night we left prison, and made room for another
squadron, who gave us their kennels. Such a luxury was sleep to me,
however, that I felt not the slightest inconvenience from the vermin,
though I certainly made a point to avoid the Scotchman and the cripple.
On the following day I confessed; and never was an unfortunate soul so
grievously afflicted with a bad memory as I was on that occasion--the
whole thing altogether, but particularly the prison scene, had knocked
me up, I could not therefore remember a tithe of my sins; and the
priest, poor man, had really so much to do, and was in such a hurry,
that he had me clean absolved before I had got half through the preface,
or knew what I was about. I then went with a fresh batch to receive the
sacrament, which I did from the hands of the good-natured gentleman who
enjoyed so richly the praying talents of the hare-lipped devotee in the
prison.
I cannot avoid mentioning here a practice peculiar to Roman Catholics,
which consists in an exchange of one or more prayers, by a stipulation
between two persons: I offer up a pater and ave for you, and you
again for me. It is called swapping or exchanging prayers. After I had
received the sacrament, I observed a thin, sallow little man, with a
pair of beads, as long as himself, moving from knot to knot, but never
remaining long in the same place. At last he glided up to me, and in a
whisper asked me if I knew him. I answered in the negative. “Oh, then, a
lanna, ye war never here before?” “Never.” “Oh, I see that, acushla, you
would a known me if you had: well then, did ye never hear of Sol Donnel,
the pilgrim?”
“I never did,” I replied, “but are we not all pilgrims while here?”
“To be sure, aroon, but I'm a pilgrim every place else, you see, as well
as here, my darlin' sweet young man.”
“Then you're a pilgrim by profession?”
“That's it, asthore machree; everybody that comes here the second time,
sure, knows Sol Donnel, the blessed pilgrim.”
“In that case it was impossible for me to know you, as I was-never here
before.”
“Acushla, I know that, but a good beginnin' are ye makin' of it--an' at
your time of life too; but, avick, it must prosper wid ye, comin' here I
mane.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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