The Tithe-Proctor: The Works of William Carleton, Volume TwoCarleton, William
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The Tithe-Proctor: The Works of William Carleton, Volume Two
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“Yes,” returned the priest, giving his burthen an uneasy twitch, “we
have had too weighty a load upon our shoulders this many a day, and the
devil's own predicament it is to be overburthened with anything--we all
know that.”
“Sorra doubt of it,” replied the other, easing himself as well as he
could by a corresponding hitch; “but it's one comfort to myself anyhow,
that I done my duty against the same tithes--an' bad luck to them!”
“If you did your duty, you weren't without a good example, at all
events,” replied the priest; “I taught you how to hate the accursed
impost--but at the same time, you know I always told you to make a
distinction between the tithes and the--hem--”
“An' what, your reverence?”
“Hem--why you know, Con, that we're commanded to love our enemies, and
it was upon this ground that I always taught you to make a distinction,
as I say, between the tithes and the parsons themselves. And by the way,
now, I don't know but it would be our duty,” he proceeded, “to render
the same parsons, now that they're suffering, as much good for evil as
possible. It would be punishing the thieves by heaping, as the Scripture
says, coals of fire upon their heads.”
“And do you think, your reverence,” replied the other, who was too quick
of apprehension not to suspect what the priest was driving at, “do you
think that I have been so long listening to your advice, not to know
that such a coorse was my duty?”
“That's the way,” continued the priest, “to punish them like a
Christian.”
“Ay, to punish them, your reverence, as you say--an' in troth, I'm the
man myself that 'ud go any length to do it.”
“But where are you bound to now, Con, and what--ahem--what is that you
are carrying?” asked the priest.
“Why then, it's the butt-end of a sack o' pittities,” replied Con,
giving an answer only to the easiest side of the query.
“Well, but who are you bringing them?” he asked again, “because, thank
God, there's not much poverty in this neighborhood at present.”
“Well, then, God forgive me!” replied the other, concealing his
benevolence by a grin, which he could not prevent at his own ingenuity,
but which he endeavored to conceal as well as he could; “God forgive me!
but hearin' that Goodison the parson here, and his family were in great
distress, I thought I might as well have my revenge aginst him, by
fetchin' him a load o' praties, which is all I can spare the poor
ould--hem--the heretical ould creature--and so, says I to myself, it's
a good opportunity of heapin' the coals upon him that you spoke about,
sir. And upon my conscience, as far as a good weighty butt o' praties
goes, I'll punish him this very night.”
The priest gave a short hiccup or two, as if laboring under some
momentary affection of the throat, which soon extended to the eyes, for
with some difficulty he put up his naked hand and wiped away a kind of
moisture, that in ordinary cases would have very much resembled tears.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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