And then he was so good to the poor; the Priory was always so full of ould men and ould women sitting around the big fire in the kitchen that the cook could hardly get near it.

There they were, eating their meals and burning their shins till they were speckled like a trout's back, and grumbling all the time; but Father Dwyer liked them, and he would have them.
"'Where have they to go,' he'd say, 'av it wasn't to me?
Give Molly Kinshela a lock of that bacon.

Tim, it's a could morning; will ye have a taste of the "dew ?"' "Ah, that's the way he'd spake to them; but sure goodness is no warrant for living, any more than devilment, and so he got could in his feet at a station, and he rode home in the heavy snow without his big coat,--for he gave it away to a blind man on the road; in three days he was dead.
"I see you're getting impatient, so I'll not stop to say what grief was in the parish when it was known; but troth, there never was seen the like before,--not a crayture would lift a spade for two days, and there was more whiskey sold in that time than at the whole spring fair.

Well, on the third day the funeral set out, and never was the equal of it in them parts: first, there was my father,--he came special from Cork with the six horses all in new black, and plumes like little poplar-trees,--then came Father Dwyer, followed by the two coadjutors in beautiful surplices, walking bare-headed, with the little boys of the Priory school, two-and-two." "Well, Mike, I'm sure it was very fine; but for Heaven's sake, spare me all these descriptions, and get on to the ghost!" "'Faith, yer honor's in a great hurry for the ghost,--may be ye won't like him when ye have him; but I'll go faster, if ye please.

Well, Father Dwyer, ye see, was born at Aghan-lish, of an ould family, and he left it in his will that he was to be buried in the family vault; and as Aghan-lish was eighteen miles up the mountains, it was getting late when they drew near.
By that time the great procession was all broke up and gone home.