"I don't think I've ever heard any of his; but if you will talk of ballads," said the Counsellor, "give me old Mosey M'Garry's: what's finer than"-and here began, with a most nasal twang and dolorous emphasis, to sing- "'And I stepp'd up unto her, An' I made a congee- And I ax'd her, her pardon For the making so free.
"The Confessions of Harry Lorrequer, Complete"
Charles James Lever (1806-1872)
Here's where I take my congee."
"They of the High Trails"
Hamlin Garland
With that he opens the door and gives us our congee, the most noble in the world; but not offering to give us a bed, we are forced to go out of doors and grope our way through the snow to the cart-shed, and seek a shelter there from the wind, which was all the keener and more bitter for our leaving a good fire.
"A Set of Rogues"
Frank Barrett