Stories of Comedy Part 18

"Quid tibi incommodi?" says the Pope, axing him what ailed him.

"Habesne id quod Anglice vocamus a looking-gla.s.s," says his Riv'rence.

"Immo, habeo speculum splendidissimum subther operculum pyxidis hujus starnutatoriae," says the Pope, pulling out a beautiful goold snuff-box, wid a looking-gla.s.s in undher the lid--"Subther operculum pyxidis hujus starnutatorii--no--starnutatoriae--quam dono accepi ab Arch-duce Austhriaco siptuagisima praetherita," says he,--as much as to say that he got the box in a prisint from the Queen ov Spain last Lint, if I rightly remimber.

Well, Father Tom laughed like to burst. At last, says he, "Pather Sancte," says he, "sub errore jaces. 'Looking-gla.s.s' apud nos habet significationem quamdam peculiarem ex tempore diei dependentem,"--there was a sthring ov accusatives for yes!--"nam mane speculum sonat," says he, "post prandium vero mat--mat--mat--sorra be in me but I disremimber the cla.s.sic appellivation ov the same article. Howandiver, his Riv'rence went on explaining himself in such a way as no scholar could mistake.

"Vesica mea," says he, "ab illo ultimo eversore distenditur, donec similis est rumpere. Verbis apertis," says he, "Vesthrae Sanct.i.tatis praesentia salvata, aquam facere valde desidhero."

"Ho, ho, ho!" says the Pope, grabbing up his box, "si inquinavisses meam pyxidem, excimnicari debuisses--Hillo, Anthony," says he to his head butler, "fetch Misther Maguire a--"

"You spoke first!" says his Riv'rence, jumping off his sate,--"you spoke first in the vernacular! I take Misther Anthony to witness," says he.

"What else would you have me to do?" says the Pope, quite dogged like to see himself bate thataway at his own waypons. "Sure," says he, "Anthony wouldn't undherstand a B from a bull's foot, if I spoke to him any other way."

"Well, then," says his Riv'rence, "in considheration ov the needcessity," says he, "I'll let you off for this time! but mind now, afther I say _praestho_, the first ov us that spakes a word ov English is the hare--_praestho_!"

Neither ov them spoke for near a minit, considering wid themselves how they were to begin sich a great thrial ov shkill. At last, says the Pope,--the blessed man, only think how 'cute it was ov him!--"Domine Maguire," says he, "valce desidhero, certiorem fieri de significatione istius verbi _eversor_ quo jam jam usus es"--(well, surely I _am_ the boy for the Latin!)

"_Eversor_, id est cyathus," says his Riv'rence, "nam apud nos _tumbleri_ seu eversores, dicti sunt ab evertendo ceremoniam inter amicos; non, ut Temperantiae Societatis frigidis fautoribus placet, ab evertendis ipsis potatoribus." (It's not every masther undher the Boord, I tell you, could carry sich a car-load ov the dead langidges.) "In agro vero Louthiano et Midensi," says he, "nomine gaudent quodam secundum linguam Anglicanam significante bombardam seu tormentum; quia ex eis tanquam ex telis jaculatoriis liquorem facibus immittere solent.

Etiam inter haereticos illos melanostomos" (that was a touch ov Greek).

"Presbyterianos Septentrionales, qui sunt terribiles potatores, Cyathi dicti sunt _faceres_, et dimidium Cyathi _haef-a-glessus_. Dimidium Cyathi ver apud Metropolitanos Hibernicos dicitur _dandy_."

"En verb.u.m Anglicanum!" says the Pope, clapping his hands,--"leporem te fecisti"; as much as to say that he had made a hare of himself.

"_Dandaeus, dandaeus_ verb.u.m erat," says his Riv'rence,--O, the dear man, but it's himself that was handy ever and always at getting out ov a hobble,--"_dandaeus_ verb.u.m erat," says he, "quod dicturus eram, c.u.m me intherpillavisti."

"Ast ego dico," says the Pope very sharp, "quod verb.u.m erat _dandy_."

"Per tibicinem qui coram Mose modulatus est," says his Riv'rence, "id flagellat mundum! _Dandaeus_ dixi, et tu dicis _dandy_; ergo tu es lepus, non ego--Ah, ha! Saccavi vesthram Sanct.i.tatem!"

"Mendacium est!" says the Pope, quite forgetting himself, he was so mad at being sacked before the sarvints.

Well, if it hadn't been that his Holiness was in it, Father Tom 'ud have given him the contints of his tumbler betuxt the two eyes, for calling him a liar; and, in troth, it's very well it was in Latin the offence was conveyed, for, if it had been in the vernacular, there's no saying what 'ud ha' been the consequence. His Riv'rence was mighty angry anyhow. "Tu senex lathro," says he, "quomodo audes me mendacem praedicare?"

"Et, tu, sacrilege nebulo," says the Pope, "quomodo audacitatem habeas, me Dei in terris vicarium, lathronem conwiciari?"

"Interroga circ.u.mcirca," says his Riv'rence.

"Abi ex aedibus meis," says the Pope.

"Abi tu in malam crucem," says his Riv'rence.

"Excimnicabo te," says the Pope.

"Diabolus curat," says his Riv'rence.

"Anathema sis," says the Pope.

"Oscula meum pod--" says his Riv'rence--but, my dear, afore he could finish what he was going to say, the Pope broke out into the vernacular, "Get out o' my house, you reprobate!" says he, in sich a rage that he could contain himself widin the Latin no longer.

"Ha, ha, ha!--ho, ho, ho!" says his Riv'rence. "Who's the hare now, your Holiness? O, by this and by that, I've sacked you clane! Clane and clever I've done it, and no mistake! You see what a bit of desate will do wid the wisest, your Holiness,--sure it was joking I was, on purpose to aggravate you,--all's fair, you know, in love, law, and conthravarsy.

In troth if I'd thought you'd have taken it so much to heart, I'd have put my head into the fire afore I'd have said a word to offend you,"

says he, for he seen that the Pope was very vexed. "Sure, G.o.d forbid, that I'd say anything agin your Holiness, barring it was in fun: for aren't you the father ov the faithful, and the thrue vicar ov G.o.d upon earth? And aren't I ready to go down on my two knees this blessed minit and beg your apostolical pardon for every word that I said to your displas.e.m.e.nt?"

"Are you in arnest that it is in fun you wer?" says the Pope.

"May I never die if I aren't," says his Riv'rence. "It was all to provoke your Holiness to commit a brache ov the Latin, that I tuck the small liberties I did," says he.

"I'd have you to take care," says the Pope, "how you take sich small liberties again, or maybe you'll provoke me to commit a brache ov the pace."

"Well, and if I did," says his Riv'rence, "I know a sartan preparation ov chymicals that's very good for curing a brache either in Latinity or friendship."

"What's that?" says the Pope, quite mollified, and sitting down again at the table that he had ris from in the first pluff of his indignation.

"What's that?" says he, "for 'pon my Epistolical 'davy, I think it 'udn't be asy to bate this miraculous mixthir that we've been thrying to anilize this two hours back," says he, taking a mighty scientifical swig out ov the bottom ov his tumbler.

"It's good for a beginning," says his Riv'rence; "it lays a very nate foundation for more sarious operation: but we're now arrived at a pariod ov the evening when it's time to proceed wid our shuperstructure by compa.s.s and square, like free and excipted masons as we both are."

My time's up for the present; but I'll tell you the rest in the evening at home.

IV.

HOW FATHER TOM AND HIS HOLINESS DISPUTED AT METAPHYSICS AND ALGEBRA.

G.o.d be wid the time when I went to the cla.s.sical seminary ov Firdramore!

when I'd bring my sod o' turf undher my arm, and sit down on my shnug boss o' straw, wid my back to the masther and my shins to the fire, and score my sum in Dives's denominations ov the double rule o' three, or play fox and geese wid purty Jane Cruise that sat next me, as plisantly as the day was long, widout any one so much as saying, "Mikey Hefferman, what's that you're about?"--for ever since I was in the one lodge wid poor ould Mat I had my own way in his school as free as ever I had in my mother's shebeen.

G.o.d be wid them days, I say again, for it's althered times wid me, I judge, since I got undher Carlisle and Whateley. Sich sthrictness! sich ordher! sich dhrilling, and lecthiring, and tuthoring as they do get on wid! I wisht to gracious the one half ov their rules and regilations was sunk in the say. And they're getting so sthrict too about having fair play for the heretic childer! We've to have no more schools in the chapels, nor ma.s.ses in the schools. O, by this and by that, it'll never do at all!

The ould plan was twenty times betther: and, for my own part, if it wasn't that the clargy supports them in a manner, and the grant's a thing not easily done widout these hard times, I'd see if I couldn't get a sheltered spot nigh hand the chapel, and set up again on the good ould principle: and faix, I think our metropolitan 'ud stand to me, for I know that his Grace's motto was ever and always, that, "Ignorance is the thrue mother ov piety."

But I'm running away from my narrative entirely, so I am. "You'll plase to ordher up the housekeeper, then," says Father Tom to the Pope, "wid a pint ov sweet milk in a skillet, and the bulk ov her fist ov b.u.t.ther, along wid a dust ov soft sugar in a saucer, and I'll show you the way of producing a decoction that, I'll be bound, will hunt the thirst out ov every nook and corner in your Holiness's blessed carcidge."

The Pope ordhered up the ingredients, and they were brought in by the head butler.

"That'll not do at all," says his Riv'rence, "the ingredients won't combine in due proportion unless ye do as I bid yes. Send up the housekeeper," says he, "for a faymale hand is ondispinsably necessary to produce the adaption of the particles and the concurrence of the corpus'cles, widout which you might boil till morning and never fetch the cruds off ov it."

Well, the Pope whispered to his head butler, and by and by up there comes an ould f.a.ggot ov a _Cuillean_, that was enough to frighten a horse from his oats.

"Don't thry for to desave me," says his Riv'rence, "for it's no use, I tell yes. Send up the housekeeper, I bid yes: I seen her presarving gooseberries in the panthry as I came up: she has eyes as black as a sloe," says he, "and cheeks like the rose in June; and sorra taste ov this celestial mixthir shall cra.s.s the lips ov man or morteal this blessed night till she stirs the same up wid her own delicate little finger."

"Misther Maguire," says the Pope, "it's very unproper ov you to spake that way ov my housekeeper: I won't allow it, sir."

"Honor bright, your Holiness," says his Riv'rence, laying his hand on his heart.

"O, by this and by that, Misther Maguire," says the Pope, "I'll have none of your insinivations; I don't care who sees my whole household,"

says he; "I don't care if all the faymales undher my roof was paraded down the High Street of Room," says he.

"O, it's plain to be seen how little you care who sees them," says his Riv'rence. "You're afeard, now, if I was to see your housekeeper, that I'd say she was too handsome."