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Why what would you expect, an' it the first visit ever the same horse made to a sick-bed' in his life; he now finds it isn't on the king's highway he is and I'll go bail it's himself that's cursin' the same duty in his heart. Bravo, Father Pat! Parra Gastha's the boy that knows his duty more power, Parra Gastha!
Whether it was the white shirt, or the black coat danglin' about the horse's neck, the divil a one o' myself can say, but any way, the baste tuck fright, an' made off wid Father Soolaghan, in the state I'm tellin' yez, upon his back ha, ha, ha! "Parra Gastha, here, an' I war goin' up at the time to do a little in the distillin' way for Tom Duggan of Aidinasamlagh, an' seen what was goin' an.
By the hole o' my coat, Parra Gastha, I'll whale you wid-in an inch of your life, if you don't Shrink. Send round the punch, Dan; an' give us a song, Parra Gastha. Arrah, Paddy, do you remimber ha, ha, ha upon my credit, I'll never forget it, the fun we had catchin' Father Soolaghan's horse, the day he gave his shirt to the sick man in the ditch.
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