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Updated: June 19, 2025
One of the most impressively characteristic circumstances which occurred during Maria Monk's visit to Montreal in Aug. 1835, was an interview at Mr. Johnson's house with a carpenter who had heard Phelan's denunciation of Maria Monk after mass.
She had spoken out of so deep a conviction that the Reverend Mother had begun to believe that her mission was perhaps to look after this hapless young man; and when she told the Reverend Mother that yesterday she had felt a conviction that Peter was not going to be a priest, the Reverend Mother felt that she must tell her of Pat Phelan's visit.
Pat Phelan's bullocks were ready for the fair, and so were his pigs; but the two fairs happened to come on the same day, and he thought he would like to sell the pigs himself.
He was declaring his passionate devotion, by wild tense springs at Phelan's face, seeking in vain to overcome the cruel limitation of a physiognomy that made kissing well-nigh impossible. Phelan picked up his small bundle and started down the track with the easy, regular swing of one who has long since gaged the distance of railroad ties.
The cause seemed lost; but when later in the alphabetical roll Scott's name was reached, he threw up his head and almost shouted "Beanston," offsetting the loss of the turncoat and leaving the vote still a tie. It was never called up again, and Beanston retained the place for another two years. Early in 1901 I was called up on the telephone and asked to come to Mayor Phelan's office at once.
"That's what I stopped to tell you, your reverence. I was thinking I might be going to the convent to tell Catherine that Peter has come back." "Well it wasn't yourself that thought of doing such a thing as that, Pat Phelan." But at every word the priest said Pat Phelan's face grew more stubborn, and at last he said:
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