the French Revolution, for your larning, as I was: not you, man, you ate
the king's mutton comfortably at home in Maynooth, instead of travelling
like your betters."

"I appale to this gintleman," said Father Peter turning to the stranger.
"Are you a classical scholar, sir--that is, do you understand Latin?"

"What kind?" demanded the stranger dryly.

"If you have read Corderius's Colloquies, it will do," said Father
Peter.

"No, sir," replied the other, "but I have read his commentator,
_Bardolphus_, who wrote a treatise upon the _Nasus Rubricundus_ of the
ancients."

"Well, sir, if you did, it's probable that you may be able to understand
our dispute, so"--

"Peter, I'm afeard you've got into the wrong box; for I say he's no
chicken that's read _Nasus Rubricundus_, I can tell you that; I had my
own trouble with it: but, at any rate, will you take your punch, man
alive, and don't bother us with your Latin?"

"I beg your pardon, Father Ned: I insist that. I'm right; and I'll
convince you that you're wrong, if God spares me to see Corderius
to-morrow."

"Very well then, Pether, if you're to decide it to-morrow, let us have
no more of it tonight."