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Updated: May 27, 2025
While Phaddhy was poor, it was surprising what little notice he excited from his Reverence; in fact, I have heard him acknowledge, that during all the days of his poverty, he never got a nod of recognition or kindness from Father Philemy, although he sometimes did, he said, from Father Con, his curate, who honored him on two occasions so far as to challenge him to a bout at throwing the shoulder-stone, and once to a leaping match, at both of which exercises Father Con, but for the superior power of Phaddhy, had been unrivalled.
"Very well, Father Con, granting all that, it's no sin to repate a good turn you know. Not a word I'll hear, yer Reverence one tumbler along with myself, if it was only for ould times." He then filled Father Con's tumbler with his own hand, in a truly liberal spirit. "Arrah, Father Con, do you remember the day we had the leapin'-match, and the bout at the shoulder-stone?"
He was just the sort of fellow to be a tremendous hero in the eyes of a youngster of fifteen. He could walk the logs on the river any old way, and could jump and run and throw the shoulder-stone, and do all manner of stunts, away ahead of everybody else. We kids thought he was the greatest thing outside a dime novel; and I tell you, he was a fine chap all through.
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