Going to Maynooth - Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry, The Works of William Carleton, Volume Three by William Carleton
page 31 of 177 (17%)
page 31 of 177 (17%)
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shallow under-current of humor, which agreed but poorly with his pompous
display of learning. On this occasion his struggle to retain the grave and overcome the ludicrous was unavailing. The startling fact thus uncouthly announced by so grotesque a candidate for classical knowledge occasioned him to receive the intelligence with more mirth than was consistent with good breeding. His pupils, too, who were hitherto afraid to laugh aloud, on observing his countenance dilate into an expression of laughter which he could not conceal, made the roof of the house ring with their mirth. "Silence, gintlemen," said he; "_legite, perlegite, et relegite_--study, gintlemen, study--pluck the tree of knowledge, I say, while the fruit is in season. Denny O'Shaughnessy, what are you facetious for? _Quid rides, Dionysi_ And so, Pether--is Pettier your pronomen--quo nomine gowdes? Silence, boys!--perhaps he was at Latin before, and we'll try him--_quo nomine gowdes, Pethre?_" A stare of awkward perplexity was the only reply he could get from the colossus he addressed. "And so you're fished up from the Streights (* Alluding to the Colossus of Rhodes) at last, Pether?" "Sir, my name's not Pether. My father's name is Paddy Doorish, but my own is Franky. I was born in Lisnagh; but we lived double as long as I can mind in the Mountain Bar." "And, Franky, what put Latin into your head?" "There was no Latin put into my head; I'm comin' to you for that." |
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