Isn't that true, you superstitious old Padareen?
No, Mr.
Reilly, Mr.Mahon--Willy, I mean--I'm a liberal man, and I hope we'll be all saved yet, with the exception of the Pope--ahem! yes, I hope we shall all be saved." "Throth, sir," said Andy, addressing himself to Reilly, "he's a quare gentleman, this.

He's always abusing the Papists, as he calls us, and yet for every Protestant servant undher his roof he has three Papists, as he calls us.

His bark, sir, is worse than his bite, any day." "I believe it," replied Reilly in a low voice, "and it's a pity that a good and benevolent man should suffer these idle prejudices to sway him." "Divil a bit they sway him, sir," replied Andy; "he'll damn and abuse them and their religion, and yet he'll go any length to serve one o' them, if they want a friend, and has a good character.

But here, now we're at the gate of the avenue, and you'll soon see the _Cooleen Bawn_" "Hallo!" the squire shouted out, "what the devil! are you dead or asleep there?
Brady, you Papist scoundrel, why not open the gate ?" The porter's wife came out as he uttered the words, saying, "I beg your honor's pardon.

Ned is up at the Castle;" and whilst speaking she opened the gate.
"Ha, Molly!" exclaimed her master in a tone of such bland good nature as could not for a moment be mistaken; "well, Molly, how is little Mick?
Is he better, poor fellow ?" "He is, thank God, and your honor." "Hallo, Molly," said the squire, laughing, "that's Popery again.