Wild Wales Part 44

"And suppose I were to tell you that I am not Father Toban?"

"Och, your reverence will never think of doing that."

"Would you believe me if I did?"

"We would not, your reverence."

"If I were to swear that I am not Father Toban?"

"We would not, your reverence."

"On the evangiles?"

"We would not, your reverence."

"On the Cross?"

"We would not, your reverence."

"And suppose I were to refuse to give you a blessing?"

"Och, your reverence will never refuse to bless the poor boys."

"But suppose I were to refuse?"

"Why, in such a case, which by the bye is altogether impossible, we should just make bould to give your reverence a good bating."

"You would break my head?"

"We would, your reverence."

"Kill me?"

"We would, your reverence."

"You would really put me to death?"

"We would not, your reverence."

"And what's the difference between killing and putting to death?"

"Och, sure there's all the difference in the world. Killing manes only a good big bating, such as every Irishman is used to, and which your reverence would get over long before matins, whereas putting your reverence to death would prevent your reverence from saying ma.s.s for ever and a day."

"And you are determined on having a blessing?"

"We are, your reverence."

"By hook or by crook?"

"By hook or by crook, your reverence."

"Before I bless you, will you answer me a question or two?"

"I will, your reverence."

"Are you not a set of great big blackguards?"

"We are, your reverence."

"Without one good quality?"

"We are, your reverence."

"Would it not be quite right to saddle and bridle you all, and ride you violently down Holyhead or the Giant's Causeway into the waters, causing you to perish there, like the herd of swine of old?"

"It would, your reverence."

"And knowing and confessing all this, you have the cheek to come and ask me for a blessing?"

"We have, your reverence."

"Well, how shall I give the blessing?"

"Och, sure your reverence knows very well how to give it."

"Shall I give it in Irish?"

"Och, no, your reverence-a blessing in Irish is no blessing at all."

"In English?"

"Och, murder, no, your reverence, G.o.d preserve us all from an English blessing."

"In Latin?"

"Yes, sure, your reverence; in what else should you bless us but in holy Latin?"

"Well, then, prepare yourselves."

"We will, your reverence-stay one moment whilst I whisper to the boys that your reverence is about to bestow your blessing upon us."

Then turning to the rest, who all this time had kept their eyes fixed intently upon us, he bellowed with the voice of a bull:

"Down on your marrow bones, ye sinners, for his reverence Toban is about to bless us all in holy Latin."

He then flung himself on his knees on the pier, and all his countrymen, baring their heads, followed his example-yes, there knelt thirty bare-headed Eirionaich on the pier of Caer Gybi, beneath the broiling sun. I gave them the best Latin blessing I could remember out of two or three which I had got by memory out of an old Popish book of devotion, which I bought in my boyhood at a stall. Then turning to the deputy, I said, "Well, now are you satisfied?"

"Sure, I have a right to be satisfied, your reverence; and so have we all-sure, we can now all go on board the dirty steamer, without fear of fire or water, or the blackguard Hill of Howth either."