This custom is about being revived by a modern,
who wants, in rather a barefaced manner, to palm himself upon us as a
patriarch. And who do you think, my friends, this Irish Patriarch is?
Why, no other than bouncing Phelim O'Toole!"
This was received precisely as the priest anticipated: loud were the
snouts of laughter from all parts of the congregation.
"Divil a fear o' Phelim!" they exclaimed. "He wouldn't be himself, or
he'd kick up a dust some way."
"Blessed Phelim! Just like him! Faith, he couldn't be marrid in the
common coorse!"
"Arrah, whisht till we hear the name o' the happy crathur that's to be
blisthered with Phelim! The darlin's in luck, whoever she is, an' has
gained a blessed prize in the 'Bouncer.'"
"This bouncing patriarch," continued the priest, "has made his selection
with great judgment and discrimination. In the first place, he has
pitched upon a hoary damsel of long standing in the world;--one blessed
with age and experience. She is qualified to keep Phelim's house well,
as soon as it shall be built; but whether she will be able to keep
Phelim himself, is another consideration. It is not unlikely that
Phelim, in imitation of his great prototypes, may prefer living in a
tent. But whether she keeps Phelim or the house, one thing is certain,
that Phelim will keep her money. Phelim selected this aged woman, we
presume, for her judgment; for surely she who has given such convincing
proof of discretion, must make a useful partner to one who, like Phelim,
has that virtue yet to learn.
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