Irish Jesuit Province

At the Nuptial MassAuthor(s): John HannonSource: The Irish Monthly, Vol. 30, No. 351 (Sep., 1902), p. 511Published by: Irish Jesuit ProvinceStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20500332 .

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AT THE NUPTIAL MASS 511

But the one thing impressed on my mind is, that whatever else one may forget or neglect, one must neither forget nor neglect to. have Wyandotte fowl. They are hardy, and they lay in winter,

and with Advent coming on, if you have not Wyandotte fowl you axe quite undone!

The gentleman who had worked the lantern here directed our attention from both the lecturer and the chairman, by asking per

mission to endorse Miss 's opinion and advice in relating an

experience of his own. Having heard of the many excellent qua lities of this bird, he sent away for some of them, which were duly packed and despatched to his address. But by some accident in,

transit the label was torn off the packing crate, and when it arrived, at Westland-row it could not be delivered. Accordingly, after three days he went to make inquiries, and discovered the fowl all roosting

most comfortably on any perch they could find about the railway station. For three days they had subsisted on the scant food they had picked up here and there, and little or no water, and we all

felt that if this were not a recommendation of their hardiness, no

better could be found.

That filled us with wonder, but what sent us all away with

laughter on our lips was the Prior's next question: "Now, Miss , what about the clucking hen? Brother Jerome

but here such a shout rent the air as, the vision of six-foot-four

chasing a clucking hen, with his cowl flapping in the wind, presented itself-that all further serious enquiry was at an end.

M C. K.

AT THE NUPTIAL MASS

LOVE, when thou kneelest by me, bowed in prayer, The sad, sweet faces o'er the altar smile,

The crowned saints above the sounding aisle

Cast golden glories o'er thy raven hair.

For art not thou of their high company? Nor would I lure thee, sweet, from Him above

Who made and gave thee to my lesser love Yet would I whisper, dearest, "' Pray for me."

JOHN HANNON.

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