The Tithe-Proctor: The Works of William Carleton, Volume TwoCarleton, William
General
The Tithe-Proctor: The Works of William Carleton, Volume Two
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“And upon my word and credit I spoke nothing,” replied the other, “but
what I know to be truth. There is not a feather of game on the glebe
lands that would be shot down with half the pleasure that the parson
himself would. I beg, then, Dr. Turbot, that you won't think of it. I'll
get my sons to go over the property, and if there's any game on it we
shall have it sent to you.”
“How does it stand for game, Temple, do you know?”
“I really cannot say,” replied the good man. “The killing of game is a
pursuit I have never relished, and with which I am utterly unacquainted.
I fear, however, that the principal game in the country will soon be the
parson and the proctor.”
“It's a delightful pursuit,” replied the Rev. Doctor, who did not at
all relish the last piece of information, and only replied to the first,
“and equally conducive to health and morals. What, for instance, can be
more delicious than a plump partridge or grouse, stewed in cinnamon and
claret? and yet, to think that a man must be deprived of--well,” said
he, interrupting himself, “it is a heavy, and awful dispensation--and
one that I ought to have been made acquainted with--that is, to its
full and fearful extent--before it came on me thus unawares. Purcel here
scarcely did his duty by me in this.”
“I fear, sir,” replied Temple, “that it was not Purcel who neglected his
duty, but you who have been incredulous. I think he has certainly not
omitted to sound the alarm sufficiently loud during the approach of this
great ordeal to which we are exposed.”
“And in addition to everything else, I am in arrears to you, Temple,” he
added; “and now I have no means of paying you.”
Temple was silent, for at that moment the necessities of his family
pressed with peculiar severity upon himself--and he was not exactly
prepared for such an intimation. The portion of salary then coming to
him was, in truth, his sole dependence at that peculiar crisis, and this
failing him, he knew not on what hand or in what direction to turn.
After musing for some time, he at length replied, “If you have it not,
Dr. Turbot, or cannot procure it, of course it is idle for me to expect
it--although I will not deny, that in the present circumstances of
my family, it would have come to us with very peculiar and seasonable
relief.”
“But I have not a pound,” replied the doctor; “so far from that, I am
pretty deeply in debt--for I need hardly say, that for years I have been
balancing my affairs--paying off debts to-day, and contracting other
to-morrow--always dipped, but and rather deeply, too, as I said.”
He again got to his legs, when the pursuit of the latter part of his
person after the rest once more took place, and in this odd way he
traversed the room in a state of extreme tribulation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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