"Perhaps not, sir," she answered, "particularly if he did not forbid me
to do so."

"Very well, this is the will, the testament of God to all men, to me,
to you. Now, Bridget, learn this will, read it, study its contents,
without consent of priest or brother. Don't you see how proper this
advice is?" said he, thinking he had her little reasoning powers
conquered.

"Yes, old fellow," said the young man at the table; "but if that will
was disputed, which would you do,--submit it to an able lawyer, or go
into court yourself without advice or counsel? You surely would fee a
lawyer, if money or property was at stake. Well, you '_omadawn_,'" said
our young stranger, "don't you see that, though that Bible is the will,
the devil, and his small heretical attorneys--Luther, Calvin,
Wesley--dispute the will, and the Church is the able advocate, and
judge, too, that will conquer the devil, and put to shame his agents,
and secure the stake, which is heaven, and the salvation of the soul?
Let the child alone," said he, boldly, "as you see she doesn't want your
biblical pills, or, 'be the tinker that mended _Fion-vic Couls' pot_,' I
will turn you out of doors, if I were to hang for it after. Let the
child alone this minute," said he, firmly.

"Who are you, sir?" said the indignant parson, turning to view his
antagonist. "How dare you interrupt me when I am not addressing you?"

"I am an Irishman and a Catholic," said he; "and furthermore, if you
wish to know my name, it is, sir, Murty O'Dwyer, Tipperary man and all."