690
PARTISAN REVIEW
"Come now, wouldn't Denisheen the Dog, as you call him, suit
your sister Pidge?"
"He might, Father."
"Wouldn't you do an act of charity and put it into her head?"
The young man remained silent.
"Will you tell it to your father, itself?"
"I will indeed, Father."
"Tell him to be doing his duty by ye, will you?"
"I will, Father."
"Tell him that I said if he doesn't look after ye, who will?"
"That's right, Father."
"That's right! That's right! That's right!" the priest said peev–
ishly. "Can ye do anything but agree with me?"
After a moment of irresolute silence, he said brightly: "There's
a spark in you. You showed it when you denounced the bull."
The young man smiled under the peak of his cap. The turkey
hen made a noise that sounded like "Pewtk!"
The priest said: "Were you at Conway's, the gathering house,
on Wednesday night?"
Reluctantly, "I was, Father."
"Inside or out?"
"Outside, Father."
"Had ye a raffle?"
"There was a raffle, Father, but I was gone home."
"Oho, you were, you model! H'm! What music had ye?"
"I couldn't get a right glimpse of the musicianers, Father. I'd
say it was a man from away up Reesk direction."
"Did a gable of a house collapse up yeer way lately?"
"I didn't hear tell, Father."
"Maybe 'tis some other place I'm thinking of."
"Maybe so, Father."
Silence. The pair looked at one another.
The priest's mouth was giving him a great deal of trouble. All
the while
his
eyes transfixed and intimidated the young man. When
he had gained the mastery over his lips he said in a low voice: "Good–
bye, son, and God bless you!"
"And you too, Father."
The young man strode steadily up the road. Now and again
