He looked, to those who could properly understand him, precisely as an able diplomatist would who had succeeded in gaining a point.
When breakfast was over, and previous to his departure, he brought Jerry Sullivan and his wife out to the barn, and in a tone and manner of much mystery, assuming at the same time that figurative and inflated style so peculiar to him, and also to his rival the Senachie, he thus addressed them-- "Listen," said he, "listen, Jerry Sullivan, and Bridget, his wife; a child was born, and a page was written--the moon saw it, and the stars saw it; but the sun did not, for he is dark to fate an' sees nothing but the face of nature.

Do you understand that, Jerry Sullivan, an' you Bridget, his wife ?" "Well, troth we can't say we do yet, at all events," they replied; "but how could we, ye know, if it's regardin' prophecy you're spakin'." "Undherstand it!" he replied, contemptuously, "you undherstand it!--no nor Father Philemy Corcoran himself couldn't undherstand it, barrin' he fasted and prayed, and refrained from liquor, for that's the way to get the ray o' knowledge; at laist it's, the way I got it first--however, let that pass.

As I was sayin' a child was born and a page was written--and an angel from heaven was sent to Nebbychodanazor, the prophet, who was commanded to write.

What will I write?
says Nebbychodanazor, the prophet.

Write down the fate of a faymale child, by name Mave Sullivan, daughter to Jerry Sullivan and his wife Bridget, of Aughnmurrin.