you go of a Sunday?"

"I don't go out at all, sir, of a Sunda'; whenever I stop of a Saturday
night I always stop until Monday mornin'."

"I mean, are you a Papish?"

"Troth, I oughtn't to say I am, your honor--or at least a very bad one."

"But you are, a Papish."

"A kind of one, sir."

"Curse me, the fellow's humbug-gin' you, sergeant," said one of the men;
"to be sure he's a Papish."

"To be sure," replied several of the others--"doesn't he admit he's a
Papish?"

"Blow me, if--if--I'll bear this," replied the sergeant. "I'm a
senior off--off--officer conductin' the examination, and I'll suffer
no--no--man to intherfare. I must have subor--or--ordination, or I'll
know what for. Leave him to me, then, and I'll work him up, never fear.
George Johnston isn't the blessed babe to be imposed upon--that's what I
say. Come, my good fellow, mark--mark me now. If you let but a quarter
of--of--an inch of a lie out of your lips, I you're a dead man. Are you
all charged, gentlemen?"

"All charged, sergeant, with loyalty and poteen at any rate; hang the
Pope."