“You all know that the best of aiting and dhrinking is provided when a runaway couple is expected; and indeed there was galore of both there.  My uncle and all that were within welcomed us again; and many a good song and hearty jug of punch was sent round that night.  The next morning my uncle went to her father’s, and broke the business to him at once:  indeed it wasn’t very hard to do, for I believe it reached him afore he saw my uncle at all; so she was brought home* that day, and, on the Thursday night after, I, my father, uncle, and several other friends, went there and made the match.  She had sixty guineas, that her grandfather left her, thirteen head of cattle, two feather- and two chaff-beds, with sheeting, quilts, and blankets; three pieces of bleached linen, and a flock of geese of her own rearing—­upon the whole, among ourselves, it wasn’t aisy to get such a fortune.

* One-half, at least, of the marriages in a great portion of Ireland are effected in this manner.  They are termed “runaway matches,” and are attended with no disgrace.  When the parents of the girl come to understand that she has “gone off,” they bring her home in a day or two; the friends of the parties then meet, and the arrangements for the marriage are made as described in the tale.

“Well, the match was made, and the wedding day appointed; but there was one thing still to be managed, and that was how to get over standing at mass on Sunday, to make satisfaction for the scandal we gave the church by running away with one another—­but that’s all stuff, for who cares a pin about standing, when three halves of the parish are married in the same way!  The only thing that vexed me was, that it would keep back the wedding-day.  However, her father and my uncle went to the priest, and spoke to him, trying, of coorse, to get us off it, but he knew we were fat geese, and was in for giving us a plucking.—­Hut, tut!—­he wouldn’t hear of it at all, not he; for although he would ride fifty miles to sarve either of us, he couldn’t break the new orders that he had got only a few days before that from the bishop.  No; we must stand*—­for it would be setting a bad example to the parish; and if he would let us pass, how could he punish the rest of his flock, when they’d be guilty of the same thing?

* Matches made in this manner are discountenanced by the Roman Catholic clergy, as being liable to abuse; and, for this reason, the parties, by way of punishment, are sometimes, but not always, made to stand up at mass for one or three Sundays; but, as Shane expresses it, the punishment is so common that it completely loses its effect.  To “stand,” in the sense meant here, is this:  the priest, when the whole congregation are on their knees, calls the young man and woman by name, who stand up and remain under the gaze of the congregation, whilst he rebukes them for the scandal they gave to the church, after which they