recollect how that old priest acted last July, at the village of Scurvy?
A little girl I sent out to Brother Prim this priest smelt and hunted
out; and actually broke in the room door where she was confined, and
took her off by physical force to a Roman Catholic orphan house. These
priests are terrible fellows; and your young fancy orphan, Paul, would
soon find out the priest, and have his grievance redressed. And what is
worse, this priest got Americans--ay, members of my own church--to
applaud his conduct, and defend him from prosecution! The Irish are
getting so powerful in this country," said the parson, after a pause,
"from their admirable union of purpose and the perfect organization of
their church, that I dread their influence. In fact, 'you catch a
Tartar' when you get one of them into your family. Ten to one, instead
of converting this young Papist, he would convert our whole family to
his own creed."

"O Burly," said the disappointed wife, "you are always a prophet of
evils. I tell you, I must have that young lad, for I want him."

"You do? Cynthia, my dear," said the parson, "we cannot have the lad in
our family. We _dare not_, without the consent of the trustees, who pay
us our salary. Do you understand _that_, my fair disputant?" said he,
triumphantly.

"Well, Burly, as soon as I recover the means my father willed me, I
shall have that young man--already almost fully educated, as you can
perceive--brought up for the church."

"O, _then_ you can try it, madam," said the man in white neckcloth, in a
sharp, sarcastic style; "but as for me, and I think my opinion is of
some weight, I tell you much can never be made out of that shrewd boy."