032 Father Murphy's Sermon on [JUNE, 



Luke. Och ! salvation to me, your reverence, if ever I put it on my 

 head at all. 



Father Murphy. And what do you do with it, Luke ? 



Luke. Why, then, don't I carry it in my fist on a Sunday to the 

 chapel, your reverence, for the dacency of it ? 



Father Murphy. And you carry the brogues in th'other hand, Luke ? 



Luke. Not a word of lie in it, Sir ; the brogues wouldn't be worth 

 picking out of the dirt, if I was to carry them on my feet. They'd be 

 like a bit of brown paper in no time, your honour, if I was to walk upon 

 them. 



Father Murphy. But, Luke, you could get another pair when these 

 would be done with, and you could buy yourself a nice new hat, with 

 wool a foot long, every fair-day ? 



Luke. It's divarting yourself with me, saving your holy presence, 

 your reverence is this blessed morning. Where would I get the means 

 of buying another pair of brogues, since I hav'n't as much money as I 

 could cross myself with, an' what's more, never had. Faix, the king's face 

 is a stranger to me, unless I see it in a turnip, or an apple piatee. 



Father Murphy. You're a smart fellow, Luke, and you'll be a great 

 man yet. Now, boys, did you hear what Luke said, that he hasn't the 

 means to buy a new pair of brogues ? Well that's the very reason why 

 you're to vote for Reform. It's two pair of brogues each, and plenty of 

 blue cloth coats, with yellow buttons, and yellow w r aistcoats, and buck- 

 skin breeches, and blue stockings, and speckled handkerchiefs, and the 

 mischief and all of things you'll have upon ye when we get reform. \_An 

 universal buzz of wonder throughout the chapel, which communicates to the 

 groups outside, and nhen it has made the circuit of the multitude grows into 

 one loud, long shout for his reverence.~\ Asy, asy, boys hush ! now that'll 

 do I haven't done with reform vet. There's Mr. Cahill that keeps the 

 academy over against the slate quarry. (I see you, Mr. Cahill, don't be 

 ashamed of your good works, and leave off drawing the nails out of your 

 fingers with your teeth.) Now, Mr. Cahill isn't able to put a roof to his 

 college, where you get the best of learning for little or nothing. But 

 when the reform is settled, there isn't a slate in the whole quarry that 

 won't be mounted on the top of the place ; and Mr. Cahill himself, and 

 he's deserving of it, will have a garron* for the woman that owns him, 

 and be able to keep a cow, and may be have a little corner in the hag- 

 gard for a still of his own. That's what reform will do for you but 

 don't shout yet. 



You remember the time that every one of you that could stick a spade 

 in the ground was a freeholder. Well, the time is coming when you'll 

 all have votes again, and more than that, when the child that's coming 

 home shall have a vote, if you can only swear that you're sure it'ill be a 

 boy (mind that Mrs. Rorke, and I wish you an asy time of it). 



Now, don't you think it's worth while to get enough to eat and drink, 

 without putting yourselves to the trouble of going to sea in the harvest- 

 time to look for work ? To be sure you do, I'll answer for you. Well, 

 when you get reform, the corn will be growing up under your feet, and 

 before you can turn round it'll be baked into loaves for you ; there'll be 

 more potatoes in the country than you can eat, and you'll be obliged to 



Horse. 



