[Valentine M’Clutchy, The Irish Agent by William Carleton]@TWC D-Link book
Valentine M’Clutchy, The Irish Agent

CHAPTER XIV
11/16

We neither broke doors nor furniture, nor stabbed either bed or bed-clothes.

We treated you well, and if you're dacent you'll treat us well." "Confound him," said a fresh hand; "I'd not drink his cursed Papish whiskey.

Sure the Papishes gets the priest to christen it for them.

I wouldn't drink his cursed Papish whiskey." "No, nor I," said several voices;--upon which a loud and angry dispute arose among them, as to whether it were consistent with true loyalty, and the duties of a staunch Protestant and Orangeman, to drink 'Papish liquor,' as they termed it, at all.
Irwin, who joined the negative party, insisted strongly that it would be disgraceful for any man who had drunk the glorious, pious, and immortal memory, ever to contaminate his loyal lips with whiskey that had been made a Papish of by the priest.

This carried the argument, or otherwise it is hard to say what mischief might have arisen, had they heightened their previous intoxication.
Phil, during this dialogue, still retained his place in the centre of his friends; but from time to time he kept glancing from under his eyebrows at M'Loughlin and his sons, in that spaniel-like manner, which betrays a consciousness of offence and a dread of punishment.
Irwin now caused them to move off; and, indeed, scarcely anything could be more ludicrous than the utter prostration of all manly feeling upon the part of the chief offender.


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