I found a letter from O'Brien, which had
arrived the day before. It was as follows:--
"MY DEAR PETER,--Some people, they say, are lucky to 'have a father
born before them,' because they are helped on in the world--upon
which principle, mine was born _after_ me, that's certain; however,
that can't be helped. I found all my family well and hearty; but they
all shook a cloth in the wind with respect to toggery. As for Father
M'Grath's cassock, he didn't complain of it without reason. It was the
ghost of a garment; but, however, with the blessing of God, my last
quarterly bill, and the help of a tailor, we have had a regular refit,
and the ancient family of the O'Briens of Ballyhinch are now rigged
from stem to starn. My two sisters are both to be spliced to young
squireens in the neighbourhood; it appears that they only wanted for a
dacent town gown to go to the church in. They will be turned off next
Friday, and I only wish, Peter, you were here to dance at the
weddings. Never mind, I'll dance for you and for myself too. In the
meantime, I'll just tell you what Father M'Grath and I have been
doing, all about and consarning that thief of an uncle of yours.
"It's very little or nothing at all that Father M'Grath did before I
came back, seeing as how Father O'Toole had a new cassock, and Father
M'Grath's was so shabby that he couldn't face him under such a
disadvantage; but still Father M'Grath spied about him, and had
several hints from here and from there, all of which, when I came to
add them up, amounted to just nothing at all.
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