" "Five
pounds," he answered, adding, "but who in the world would be fool
enough to tend me five pounds, unless it be yourself, Shorsha, who,
may be, have not got it; for when you told me about yourself, you
made no boast of the state of your affairs." "I am not very rich,"
I replied, "but I think I can accommodate you with what you want.
I consider myself under great obligations to you, Murtagh; it was
you who instructed me in the language of Oilein nan Naomha, which
has been the foundation of all my acquisitions in philology;
without you, I should not have been what I am--Lavengro! which
signifies a philologist. Here is the money, Murtagh," said I,
putting my hand into my pocket, and taking out five pounds, "much
good may it do you." He took the money, stared at it, and then at
me--"And you mane to give me this, Shorsha?" "It is no longer mine
to give," said I; "it is yours." "And you give it me for the
gratitude you bear me?" "Yes, " said I, "and for Dungarvon times
of old." "Well, Shorsha," said he, "you are a broth of a boy, and
I'll take your benefaction--five pounds! och, Jasus!" He then put
the money in his pocket, and springing up, waved his hat three
times, uttering some old Irish cry; then, sitting down, he took my
hand, and said, "Sure, Shorsha, I'll be going thither; and when I
get there, it is turning over another leaf I will be; I have learnt
a thing or two abroad; I will become a priest; that's the trade,
Shorsha! and I will cry out for repale; that's the cry, Shorsha!
and I'll be a fool no longer.
Pages:
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494