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diff --git a/16012-0.txt b/16012-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..24d51bf --- /dev/null +++ b/16012-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9509 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ned M'Keown Stories, by William Carleton + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Ned M'Keown Stories + Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of + William Carleton, Volume Three + +Author: William Carleton + +Illustrator: M. L. Flanery + +Release Date: June 7, 2005 [EBook #16012] +Last Updated: March 2, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NED M'KEOWN STORIES *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +THE WORKS + +OF + +WILLIAM CARLETON. + +VOLUME III. + + +[Illustration: Frontispiece] + +[Illustration: Titlepage] + + +TRAITS AND STORIES OF THE IRISH PEASANTRY + + +CONTENTS: + + Ned M'Keown. + + The Three Tasks. + + Shane Fadh's Wedding. + + Larry M'Farland's Wake. + + The Battle Of The Factions. + + + +1881. + + + +TRAITS AND STORIES + +OF THE IRISH PEASANTRY. + + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + +It will naturally be expected, upon a new issue of works which may be +said to treat exclusively of a people who form such an important and +interesting portion of the empire as the Irish peasantry do, that the +author should endeavor to prepare the minds of his readers--especially +those of the English and Scotch--for understanding more clearly their +general character, habits of thought, and modes of feeling, as they +exist and are depicted in the subsequent volume. This is a task which +the author undertakes more for the sake of his country than himself; and +he rejoices that the demand for the present edition puts it in his power +to aid in removing many absurd prejudices which have existed for time +immemorial against his countrymen. + +It is well known that the character of an Irishman has been hitherto +uniformly associated with the idea of something unusually ridiculous, +and that scarcely anything in the shape of language was supposed to +proceed from his lips, but an absurd congeries of brogue and blunder. +The habit of looking upon him in a ludicrous light has been so strongly +impressed upon the English mind, that no opportunity has ever been +omitted of throwing him into an attitude of gross and overcharged +caricature, from which you might as correctly estimate his intellectual +strength and moral proportions, as you would the size of a man from his +evening shadow. From the immortal bard of Avon down to the writers +of the present day, neither play nor farce has ever been presented to +Englishmen, in which, when an irishman is introduced, he is not drawn as +a broad, grotesque blunderer, every sentence he speaks involving a +bull, and every act the result of headlong folly, or cool but unstudied +effrontery. I do not remember an instance in which he acts upon the +stage any other part than that of the buffoon of the piece uttering +language which, wherever it may have been found, was at all events +never heard in Ireland, unless upon the boards of a theatre. As for the +Captain O'Cutters, O'Blunders, and Dennis Bulgrudderies, of the English +stage, they never had existence except in the imagination of those who +were as ignorant of the Irish people as they were of their language and +feelings. Even Sheridan himself was forced to pander to this erroneous +estimate and distorted conception of our character; for, after all, Sir +Lucius O'Trigger was his Irishman but not Ireland's Irishman. I know +that several of my readers may remind me of Sir Boyle Roche, whose bulls +have become not only notorious, but proverbial. It is well known now, +however, and was when he made them, that they were studied bulls, +resorted to principally for the purpose of putting the government and +opposition sides of the Irish House of Commons into good humor with each +other, which they never failed to do--thereby, on more occasions than +one, probably, preventing the effusion of blood, and the loss of life, +among men who frequently decided even their political differences by the +sword or pistol. + +That the Irish either were or are a people remarkable for making bulls +or blunders, is an imputation utterly unfounded, and in every sense +untrue. The source of this error on the part of our neighbors is, +however, readily traced. The language of our people has been for +centuries, and is up to the present day, in a transition state. The +English tongue is gradually superseding the Irish. In my own native +place, for instance, there is not by any means so much Irish spoken now, +as there was about twenty or five-and-twenty years ago. This fact, then, +will easily account for the ridicule which is, and I fear ever will be, +unjustly heaped upon those who are found to use a language which they do +not properly understand. In the early periods of communication between +the countries, when they stood in a hostile relation to each other, and +even long afterwards, it was not surprising that “the wild Irishman” who +expressed himself with difficulty, and often impressed the idiom of his +own language upon one with which he was not familiar, should incur, +in the opinion of those who were strongly prejudiced against him, the +character of making the bulls and blunders attributed to him. Such +was the fact, and such the origin of this national slander upon his +intellect,--a slander which, like every other, originates from the +prejudice of those who were unacquainted with the quickness and +clearness of thought that in general characterizes the language of our +people. At this moment there is no man acquainted with the inhabitants +of the two countries, who does not know, that where the English +is vernacular in Ireland, it is spoken with far more purity, and +grammatical precision than is to be heard beyond the Channel. Those, +then, who are in the habit of defending what are termed our bulls, or of +apologizing for them, do us injustice; and Miss Edgeworth herself, when +writing an essay upon the subject, wrote an essay upon that which does +not, and never did exist. These observations, then, easily account for +the view of us which has always been taken in the dramatic portion of +English literature. There the Irishman was drawn in every instance +as the object of ridicule, and consequently of contempt; for it is +incontrovertibly true, that the man whom you laugh at you will soon +despise. + +In every point of view this was wrong, but principally in a political +one. At that time England and Englishmen knew very little of Ireland, +and, consequently, the principal opportunities afforded them of +appreciating our character were found on the stage. Of course, it was +very natural that the erroneous estimate of us which they formed there +should influence them everywhere else. We cannot sympathize with, and +laugh at, the same object at the same time; and if the Irishman found +himself undeservedly the object of coarse and unjust ridicule, it was +not very unnatural that he should requite it with a prejudice against +the principles and feelings of Englishmen, quite as strong as that which +was entertained against himself. Had this ridicule been confined to +the stage, or directed at us in the presence of those who had other and +better opportunities of knowing us, it would have been comparatively +harmless. But this was not the case. It passed from the stage into the +recesses of private life, wrought itself into the feelings until it +became a prejudice, and the Irishman was consequently looked upon, and +treated, as being made up of absurdity and cunning,--a compound of knave +and fool, fit only to be punished for his knavery, or laughed at for +his folly. So far, therefore, that portion of English literature +which attempted to describe the language and habits of Irishmen, was +unconsciously creating an unfriendly feeling between the two countries, +a feeling which, I am happy to say, is fast disappearing, and which +only requires that we should have a full and fair acquaintance with each +other in order to be removed for ever. + +At present, indeed, their mutual positions, civil, commercial, and +political, are very different from what they were half a century ago, +or even at a more recent period. The progress of science, and the +astonishing improvements in steam and machinery, have so completely +removed the obstructions which impeded their intercourse, that the +two nations can now scarcely be considered as divided. As a natural +consequence, their knowledge of each other has improved; and, as will +always happen with generous people, they begin to see that the one was +neither knave or fool, nor the other a churl or a boor. Thus has +mutual respect arisen from mutual intercourse, and those who hitherto +approached each other with distrust are beginning to perceive, that in +spite of political or religious prejudices, no matter how stimulated, +the truthful experience of life will in the event create nothing but +good-will and confidence between the countries. + +Other causes, however, led to this;--causes which in every state of +society exercise a quick and powerful influence over the minds of +men:--I allude to literature. + +When the Irishman was made to stand forth as the butt of ridicule to his +neighbors, the first that undertook his vindication was Maria Edgeworth. +During her day, the works of no writer made a more forcible impression +upon the circles of fashionable life in England, if we except the +touching and inimitable Melodies of my countryman, Thomas Moore. After +a lapse of some years, these two were followed by many others, who +stood forth as lofty and powerful exponents of the national heart and +intellect. Who can forget the melancholy but indignant reclamations +of John Banim,--the dark and touching power of Gerald Griffin,--or the +unrivalled wit and irresistible drollery of Samuel Lover? Nor can I omit +remarking, that amidst the array of great talents to which I allude, +the genius of our female writers bore off, by the free award of public +opinion, some of the brightest wreaths of Irish literature. It would be +difficult indeed, in any country, to name three women who have done +more in setting right the character of Ireland and her people, whilst +exhibiting at the same time the manifestations of high genius, than Miss +Edgeworth, Lady Morgan, and Mrs. Hall. About the female creations ol +the last-named lady, especially, there is a touching charm, blending +the graceful and the pensive, which reminds us of a very general but +peculiar style of Irish beauty, where the lineaments of the face combine +at once both the melancholy and the mirthful in such a manner, that +their harmony constitutes the unchangeable but ever-varying tenderness +of the expression. + +That national works like these, at once so healthful and so true, +produced by those who knew the country, and exhibiting Irishmen not +as the blundering buffoons of the English stage, but as men capable +of thinking clearly and feeling deeply--that such works, I say, should +enable a generous people, as the English undoubtedly are, to divest +themselves of the prejudices which they had so long entertained against +us, is both natural and gratifying. Those who achieved this great +object, or aided in achieving it, have unquestionably rendered services +of a most important nature to both the countries, as well as to +literature in general. + +Yet, whilst the highly gifted individuals whom I have named succeeded +in making their countrymen respected, there was one circumstance which, +nothwithstanding every exhibition of their genius and love of country, +still remained as a reproach against our character as a nation. +For nearly a century we were completely at the mercy of our British +neighbors, who probably amused themselves at our expense with the +greater license, and a more assured sense of impunity, inasmuch as +they knew that we were utterly destitute of a national literature. +Unfortunately the fact could not be disputed. For the last half century, +to come down as far as we can, Ireland, to use a plain metaphor, instead +of producing her native intellect for home consumption, was forced to +subsist upon the scanty supplies which could be procured from the sister +kingdom. This was a reproach which added great strength to the general +prejudice against us. + +A nation may produce one man or ten men of eminence, but if they cannot +succeed in impressing their mind upon the spirit and intellect of their +own country, so as to create in her a taste for literature or science, +no matter how highly they may be appreciated by strangers, they have not +reached the exalted purposes of genius. To make this more plain I shall +extend the metaphor a little farther. During some of the years of Irish +famine, such were the unhappy circumstances of the country, that she was +exporting provisions of every description in most prodigal abundance, +which the generosity of England was sending back again for our support. +So was it with literature, our men and women of genius uniformly carried +their talents to the English market, whilst we labored at home under all +the dark privations of a literary famine. + +In truth, until within the last ten or twelve years, an Irish author +never thought of publishing in his own country, and the consequence was +that our literary men followed the example of our great landlords; they +became absentees, and drained the country of its intellectual wealth +precisely as the others exhausted it of its rents. + +Thus did Ireland stand in the singular anomaly of adding some of her +most distinguished names to the literature of Great Britain, whilst she +herself remained incapable of presenting anything to the world beyond a +school-book or a pamphlet; and even of the latter it is well-known that +if the subject of it were considered important, and its author a man +of any talent or station in society, it was certain to be published in +London. + +Precisely in this state was the country when the two first volumes of +the “Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry” were given to the public +by the house of Messrs. Gurry and Co., of Sackville Street. Before they +appeared, their author, in consequence of their originating from an +Irish press, entertained no expectation that they would be read, or +excite any interest whatever in either England or Scotland. He was not, +however, without a strong confidence that notwithstanding the wild +and uncleared state of his own country at the time, so far as native +literature was concerned, his two little pioneers would work their +way with at least moderate success. He felt conscious that everything +depicted in them was true, and that by those who were acquainted with +the manners, and language, and feelings of the people, they would sooner +or later be recognized as faithful delineations of Irish life. In +this confidence the event justified him; for not only were his volumes +stamped with an immediate popularity at home, where they could be best +appreciated, but awarded a very gratifying position in the literature +of the day by the unanimous and not less generous verdict of the English +and Scotch critics. + +Thus it was that the publication of two unpretending volumes, written by +a peasant's son, established an important and gratifying fact--that +our native country, if without a literature at the time, was at least +capable of appreciating, and willing to foster the humble exertions +of such as endeavored to create one. Nor was this all; for so far as +resident authors were concerned, it was now clearly established that +an Irish writer could be successful at home without the necessity of +appearing under the name and sanction of the great London or Edinburgh +booksellers. + +The rapid sale and success of the first series encouraged the author to +bring out a second, which he did, but with a different bookseller. The +spirit of publishing was now beginning to extend, and the talent of the +country to put itself in motion. The popularity of the second effort +surpassed that of the first, and the author had the gratification of +knowing that the generosity of public feeling and opinion accorded him +a still higher position than before, as did the critics of the day, +without a dissentient voice. Still, as in the case of his first effort, +he saw with honest pride that his own country and his countrymen placed +the highest value upon his works, because they best understood them. + +About this time the literary taste of the metropolis began to feel the +first symptoms of life. As yet, however, they were very faint. Two or +three periodicals were attempted, and though of very considerable merit, +and conducted by able men, none of them, I believe, reached a year's +growth. The “Dublin Literary Gazette,” the “National Magazine,” the +“Dublin Monthly Magazine,” and the “Dublin University Review,” all +perished in their infancy--not, however, because they were unworthy of +success, but because Ireland was not then what she is now fast becoming, +a reading, and consequently a thinking, country. To every one of these +the author contributed, and he has the satisfaction of being able to say +that there has been no publication projected purely for the advancement +of literature in his own country, to which he has not given the aid of +his pen, such as it was, and this whether he received remuneration or +not. Indeed, the consciousness that the success of his works had been +the humble means of inciting others to similar exertion in their own +country, and of thus giving the first impulse to our literature, is one +which has on his part created an enthusiastic interest in it which will +only die with him. + +Notwithstanding the failure of the periodicals just mentioned, it +was clear that the intellect of the country was beginning to feel its +strength and put forth its power. A national spirit that rose above the +narrow distinctions of creed and party began to form itself, and in the +first impulses of its early enthusiasm a periodical was established, +which it is only necessary to name--the “Dublin University Magazine”--a +work unsurpassed by any magazine of the day; and which, moreover, +without ever departing from its principles, has been as a bond of union +for literary men of every class, who have from time to time enriched its +pages by their contributions. It has been, and is, a neutral spot in a +country where party feeling runs so high, on which the Roman Catholic +Priest and the Protestant Parson, the Whig, the Tory, and the Radical, +divested of their respective prejudices, can meet in an amicable spirit. +I mention these things with great satisfaction, for it is surely a +gratification to know that literature, in a country which has been so +much distracted as Ireland, is progressing in a spirit of noble candor +and generosity, which is ere long likely to produce a most salutary +effect among the educated classes of all parties, and consequently among +those whom they influence. The number, ability, and importance of the +works which have issued from the Dublin press within the last eight or +ten years, if they could be enumerated here, would exhibit the rapid +progress of the national mind, and satisfy the reader that Ireland in +a few years will be able to sustain a native literature as lofty and +generous, and beneficial to herself, as any other country in the world +can boast of. + +This hasty sketch of its progress I felt myself called upon to give, +in order that our neighbors may know what we have done, and learn to +respect us accordingly; and, if the truth must be told, from a principle +of honest pride, arising from the position which our country holds, and +is likely to hold, as an intellectual nation. + +Having disposed of this topic, I come now to one of not less importance +as being connected with the other,--the condition and character of the +peasantry of Ireland. + +It maybe necessary, however, before entering upon this topic, to give +my readers some satisfactory assurance that the subject is one which +I ought well to understand, not only from my humble position in early +life, and my uninterrupted intercourse with the people as one of +themselves, until I had reached the age of twenty-two years, but from +the fact of having bestowed upon it my undivided and most earnest +attention ever since I left the dark mountains and green vales of my +native Tyrone, and began to examine human life and manners as a citizen +of the world. As it is admitted, also, that there exists no people whose +character is so anomalous as that of the Irish, and consequently so +difficult to be understood, especially by strangers, it becomes a +still more appropriate duty on my part to give to the public, proofs +sufficiently valid, that I come to a subject of such difficulty with +unusual advantages on my side, and that, consequently, my exhibitions of +Irish peasant life, in its most comprehensive sense, may be relied on +as truthful and authentic. For this purpose, it will be necessary that +I should give a brief sketch of my own youth, early station in society, +and general education, as the son of an honest, humble peasant. + +My father, indeed, was a very humble man, but, in consequence of his +unaffected piety and stainless integrity of principle, he was held in +high esteem by all who knew him, no matter what their rank in life might +be. When the state of education in Ireland during his youth and that of +my mother is considered, it will not be a matter of surprise that what +they did receive was very limited. It would be difficult, however, if +not impossible, to find two persons in their lowly station so highly +and singularly gifted. My father possessed a memory not merely great or +surprising, but absolutely astonishing. He could repeat nearly the whole +of the Old and New Testament by heart, and was, besides, a living index +to almost every chapter and verse you might wish to find in it. In all +other respects, too, his memory was equally amazing. My native place +is a spot rife with old legends, tales, traditions, customs, and +superstitions; so that in my early youth, even beyond the walls of +my own humble roof, they met me in every direction. It was at home, +however, and from my father's lips in particular, that they were +perpetually sounding in my ears. In fact, his memory was a perfect +storehouse, and a rich one, of all that the social antiquary, the man of +letters, the poet, or the musician, would consider valuable. As a teller +of old tales, legends, and historical anecdotes he was unrivalled, and +his stock of them was inexhaustible. He spoke the Irish and English +languages with nearly equal fluency. With all kinds of charms, old +ranns, or poems, old prophecies, religious superstitions, tales of +pilgrims, miracles, and pilgrimages, anecdotes of blessed priests +and friars, revelations from ghosts and fairies, was he thoroughly +acquainted. And so strongly were all these impressed upon my mind, by +frequent repetition on his part, and the indescribable delight they +gave me on mine, that I have hardly ever since heard, during a tolerably +enlarged intercourse with Irish society, both educated and uneducated, +with the antiquary, the scholar, or the humble senachie--any single +tradition, usage, or legend, that, as far as I can at present recollect, +was perfectly new to me or unheard before, in some similar or cognate +dress. This is certainly saying much; but I believe I may assert with +confidence that I could produce, in attestation of its truth, the +dairies of Petrie, Sir W. Betham, Ferguson, and O'Donovan, the most +distinguished antiquaries, both of social usages and otherwise, that +ever Ireland produced. What rendered this, besides, of such peculiar +advantage to me in after life, as a literary man, was, that I heard them +as often in the Irish language as in the English, if not oftener, in +circumstance which enabled me in my writings to transfer the genius, the +idiomatic peculiarity and conversational spirit of the one language +into the other, precisely as the people themselves do in their dialogue, +whenever the heart or imagination happens to be moved by the darker or +better passions. + +Having thus stated faithfully, without adding or diminishing, a portion, +and a portion only, of what I owe to one parent, I cannot overlook the +debt of gratitude which is due to the memory of the other. + +My mother, whose name was Kelly--Mary Kelly--possessed the sweetest and +most exquisite of human voices. In her early life, I have often been +told by those who had heard her sing, that any previous intimation of +her presence at a wake, dance, or other festive occasion, was sure to +attract crowds of persons, many from a distance of several miles, in +order to hear from her lips the touching old airs of their country. No +sooner was it known that she would attend any such meeting, than the +fact spread throughout the neighborhood like wild-fire, and the people +flocked from all parts to hear her, just as the fashionable world +do now, when the name of some eminent songstress is announced in the +papers; with this difference, that upon such occasions the voice of the +one falls only upon the ear, whilst that of the other sinks deeply into +the heart. She was not so well acquainted with the English tongue as my +father, although she spoke it with sufficient ease for all the purposes +of life; and for this reason, among others, she generally gave the old +Irish versions of the songs in question, rather than the English ones. +This, however, as I said, was not her sole motive. In the first place, +she had several old songs, which at that time,--I believe, too, I may +add at this,--had never been translated; and I very much fear that some +valuable ones, both as to words and airs, have perished with her. Her +family were all imbued with a poetical spirit, and some of her immediate +ancestors composed in the Irish tongue several fine old songs, in the +same manner as Carolan did; that is, some in praise of a patron or a +friend, and others to celebrate rustic beauties, that have long since +been sleeping in the dust. For this reason she had many old compositions +that were almost peculiar to our family, which I am afraid could not now +be procured at all, and are consequently lost. I think her uncle, and +I believe her grandfather, were the authors of several Irish poems and +songs, because I know that some of them she sang, and others she only +recited. + +Independently of this, she had a prejudice against singing the Irish +airs to English words; an old custom of the country was thereby invaded, +and an association disturbed which habit had rendered dear to her. I +remember on one occasion, when she was asked to sing the English version +of that touching melody, “The Red-haired Man's Wife,” she replied, +“I will sing it for you; but the English words and the air are like a +quarrelling man and wife: the Irish melts into the tune, but the English +doesn't,” an expression scarcely less remarkable for its beauty than its +truth. She spoke the words in Irish. + +This gift of singing with such sweetness and power the old sacred songs +and airs of Ireland, was not the only one for which she was remarkable. +Perhaps there never lived a human being capable of giving the Irish cry, +or Keene, with such exquisite effect, or of pouring into its wild notes +a spirit of such irresistible pathos and sorrow. I have often been +present when she has “raised the keene” over the corpse of some relative +or neighbor, and my readers may judge of the melancholy charm which +accompanied this expression of her sympathy, when I assure them that +the general clamor of violent grief was gradually diminished, from +admiration, until it became ultimately hushed, and no voice was heard +but her own--wailing in sorrowful but solitary beauty. This pause, it +is true, was never long, for however great the admiration might be which +she excited, the hearts of those who heard her soon melted, and even +strangers were often forced to confess her influence by the tears which +she caused them to shed for those whose deaths could, otherwise, in no +other way have affected them. I am the youngest, I believe, of fourteen +children, and of course could never have heard her until age and the +struggles of life had robbed her voice of its sweetness. I heard enough, +however, from her blessed lips, to set my heart to an almost painful +perception of that spirit which steeps these fine old songs in a +tenderness which no other music possesses. Many a time, of a winter +night, when seated at her spinning-wheel, singing the _Trougha_, or +_Shuil agra_, or some other old “song of sorrow,” have I, then little +more than a child, gone over to her, and with a broken voice and eyes +charged with tears, whispered, “Mother dear, don't sing that song, it +makes me sorrowful;” she then usually stopped, and sung some one which I +liked better because it affected me less. At this day I am in possession +of Irish airs, which none of our best antiquaries in Irish music have +heard, except through me, and of which neither they nor I myself know +the names. + +Such, gentle reader, were my humble parents, under whose untaught, but +natural genius, setting all other advantages aside, it is not to be +wondered at that my heart should have been so completely moulded into +that spirit and, those feelings which characterize my country and her +children. + +These, however, were my domestic advantages; but I now come to others, +which arose from my position in life as the son of a man who was one +of the people. My father, at the farthest point to which my memory goes +back, lived in a townland called Prillisk, in the parish of Clogher, and +county of Tyrone; and I only remember living there in a cottage. From +that the family removed to a place called Tonagh, or, more familiarly, +Towney, about an English mile from Prillisk. It was here I first went to +school to a Connaught-man named Pat Frayne, who, however, remained there +only for a very short period in the neighborhood. Such was the neglected +state of education at that time, that for a year or two afterwards there +was no school sufficiently near to which I could be sent. At length it +was ascertained that a master, another Connaught-man by the way, named +O'Beirne, had opened a school--a hedge-school of course--at Pindramore. +To this I was sent, along with my brother John, the youngest of the +family next to myself. I continued with him for about a year and a +half, when who should return to our neighborhood but Pat Frayne, the +redoubtable prototype of Mat Kavanagh in “The Hedge School.” O'Beirne, +it is true, was an excellent specimen of the hedge-schoolmaster, but +nothing at all to be compared to Frayne. About the period I write of, +there was no other description of school to which any one could be sent, +and the consequence was, that rich and poor (I speak of the peasantry), +Protestant and Catholic, Presbyterian and Methodist, boys and girls, +were all congregated under the same roof, to the amount of from a +hundred to a hundred and fifty, or two hundred. In this school I +remained for about a year or two, when our family removed to a place +called Nurchasy, the property of the Rev. Dr. Story, of Corick. Of +us, however, he neither could nor did know anything, for we were +under-tenants, our immediate landlord being no less a person than Hugh +Traynor, then so famous for the distillation, sub rosa, of exquisite +mountain dew, and to whom the reader will find allusions made in that +capacity more than once in the following volume. Nurchasy was within +about half a mile of Findramore, to which school, under O'Beirne, I was +again sent. Here I continued, until a classical teacher came to a place +called Tulnavert, now the property of John Birney, Esq., of Lisburn, +to whom I had the pleasure of dedicating the two first volumes of my +“Traits and Stories.” This tyrannical blockhead, whose name I do not +choose to mention, instead of being allowed to teach classics, ought to +have been put into a strait-waistcoat or the stocks, and either whipped +once in every twenty-four hours, or kept in a madhouse until the day of +his death. He had been a student in Maynooth, where he became deranged, +and was, of course, sent home to his friends, with whom he recovered +sufficiently to become cruel and hypocritical, to an extent which I have +never yet seen equalled. Whenever the son of a rich man committed an +offence, he would grind his teeth and growl like a tiger, but in no +single instance had he the moral courage or sense of justice to correct +him. On the contrary, he uniformly “nursed his wrath to keep it warm,” + until the son of a poor man transgressed, and on his unfortunate body +he was sure to wreak signal vengeance for the stupidity or misconduct of +the wealthy blockhead. This was his system, and my readers may form some +opinion of the low ebb at which knowledge and moral feeling were at the +time, when I assure them, that not one of the humbler boys durst make a +complaint against the scoundrel at home, unless under the certainty of +being well flogged for their pains. A hedge-schoolmaster was then held +in such respect and veneration, that no matter how cruel or profligate +he might be, his person and character, unless in some extraordinary case +of cruelty, resulting in death or mutilation, were looked upon as free +from all moral or legal responsibility. This certainly was not the fault +of the people, but of those laws, which, by making education a crime, +generated ignorance, and then punished it for violating them. + +For the present it is enough to say, that a most interesting child, +a niece of my own, lost her life by the severity of Pat Frayne, the +Connaught-man. In a fit of passion he caught the poor girl by the ear, +which he nearly plucked out of her head. The violence of the act broke +some of the internal muscles or tendons,--suppuration and subsequently +inflammation, first of the adjoining Parts and afterwards of the brain, +took place, and the fine intelligent little creature was laid in +a premature grave, because the ignorance of the people justified a +pedantic hedge-schoolmaster in the exercise of irresponsible cruelty. +Frayne was never prosecuted, neither was the classical despot, who by +the way sits for the picture of the fellow in whose school, and at whose +hands, the Poor Scholar receives the tyrannical and heartless treatment +mentioned in that tale. Many a time the cruelty exercised towards that +unhappy boy, whose name was Qum, has wrung my heart and brought the +involuntary tears to my eyes,--tears which I was forced to conceal, +being very well assured from experience, that any sympathy of mine, if +noticed, would be certain to procure me or any other friend of his, an +ample participation in his punishment. He was, in truth, the scape-goat +of the school, and it makes my blood boil, even whilst I write, to think +how the poor friendless lad, far removed from either father or mother, +was kicked, and cuffed, and beaten on the naked head, with a kind of +stick between a horse-rod and a cudgel, until his poor face got pale, +and he was forced to totter over to a seat in order to prevent himself +from fainting or falling in consequence of severe pain. + +At length, however, the inhuman villain began to find, when it was too +late, that his ferocity, in spite of the terror which it occasioned, was +soon likely to empty his school. He now became as fawning and slavish as +he had before been insolent and savage; but the wealthy farmers of the +neighborhood, having now full cognizance of his conduct, made common +cause with the poorer men whose children were so shamefully treated, and +the result was, that in about six weeks they forced him to leave that +part of the country for want of scholars, having been literally groaned +out of it by the curses and indignation of all who knew him. + +Here then was I once more at a loss for a school, and I must add, in no +disposition at all to renew my acquaintance with literature. Our family +had again removed from Nurchasy, to a place up nearer the mountains, +called Springtown, on the northern side of the parish. I was now +about fourteen, and began to feel a keen relish for all the sports and +amusements of the country, into which I entered with a spirit of youth +and enthusiasm rarely equalled. For about two years I attended no +school, but it was during this period that I received, notwithstanding, +the best part of my education. Our farm in Springtown was about sixteen +or eighteen acres, and I occasionally assisted the family in working at +it, but never regularly, for I was not called upon to do so, nor would I +have been permitted even had I wished it. It was about six months after +our removal to Springtown, that an incident in my early life occurred +which gave rise to one of the most popular tales perhaps, with the +exception of “The Miser,” that I have written--that is “The Poor +Scholar.” There being now no classical school within eighteen or twenty +miles of Springtown, it was suggested to our family by a nephew of the +parish priest, then a young man of six or eight and twenty, that, under +the circumstances, it would be a prudent step on their part to prepare +an outfit, and send me up to Munster as a poor scholar, to complete my +education. Pat Frayne, who by the way had been a poor scholar himself, +had advised the same thing before, and as the name does not involve +disgrace I felt no reluctance in going, especially as the priest's +nephew, who proposed it, had made up his mind on accompanying me for +a similar purpose. Indeed, the poor scholars who go to Munster are +indebted for nothing but their bed and board, which they receive +kindly and hospitably from the parents of the scholars. The masters are +generally paid their full terms by these pitiable beings, but this rule, +like all others, of course, has its exceptions. At all events, my +outfit was got ready, and on a beautiful morning in the month of May +I separated from my family to go in quest of education. There was no +collection, however, in my case, as mentioned in the tale; as my own +family supplied the funds supposed to be necessary. I have been present, +however, at more than one collection made for similar purposes, and +heard a good-natured sermon not very much differing from that given in +the story. + +The priest's nephew, on the day we were to start, suddenly changed his +mind, and I consequently had to undertake the journey alone, which I +did with a heavy heart. The farther I got from home, the more my spirits +sank, or in the beautiful image of Goldsmith, + + “I dragged at each remove a lengthening chain.” + +I travelled as far as the town of Granard, and during the journey, it +is scarcely necessary to say, that the almost parental tenderness +and hospitality which I received on my way could not be adequately +described. The reader will find an attempt at it in the story. The +parting from home and my adventures on the road are real. + +Having reached Granard my courage began to fail, and my family at home, +now that I had departed from them, began also to feel something like +remorse for having permitted one so young and inexperienced as I then +was, to go abroad alone upon the world. My mother's sorrow, especially, +was deep, and her cry was, “Oh, why did I let my boy go? maybe I will +never see him again!” + +At this time, as the reader may be aware from my parental education, +there was not a being alive more thoroughly imbued with superstition; +and, whether for good or ill, at all events that superstition returned +me to my family. On reaching Granard, I felt, of course, fatigued, +and soon went to bed, where I slept soundly. It was not, however, a +dreamless sleep: I thought I was going along a strange path to some +particular place, and that a mad bull met me on the road, and pursued +me with such speed and fury that I awoke in a state of singular terror. +That was sufficient; my mind had been already wavering, and the +dream determined me. The next morning after breakfast I bent my steps +homewards, and, as it happened, my return took a weighty load of bitter +grief from the heart of my mother and family. The house I stopped at +in Granard was a kind of small inn, kept by a man whose name was Peter +Grehan. Such were the incidents which gave rise to the tale of “The Poor +Scholar.” + +I was now growing up fast, and began to feel a boyish ambition of +associating with, those who were older and bigger than myself. Although +miserably deficient in education--for I had been well beaten but never +taught--yet I was looked upon as a prodigy of knowledge; and I can +assure the reader that I took very good care not to dispel that +agreeable delusion. Indeed, at this time, I was as great a young +literary coxcomb as ever lived, my vanity being high and inflated +exactly in proportion to my ignorance, which was also of the purest +water. This vanity, however, resulted as much from my position and +circumstances as from any strong disposition to be vain on my part. +It was generated by the ignorance of the people, and their extreme +veneration for any thing in the shape of superior knowledge. In fact, +they insisted that I knew every earthly subject, because I had been a +couple of years at Latin, and was designed for a priest. It was useless +to undeceive men who would not be convinced, so I accordingly gave them, +as they say, “the length of their tether;” nay, to such, purpose did I +ply them with proofs of it, that my conversation soon became as fine a +specimen of pedantic bombast as ever was uttered. Not a word under +six feet could come out of my lips, even of English; but as the best +English, after all, is but commonplace, I peppered them with vile +Latin, and an occasional verse in Greek, from St. John's Gospel, which +I translated for them into a wrong meaning, with an air of lofty +superiority that made them turn up their eyes with wonder. I was then, +however, but one of a class which still exists, and will continue to do +so until a better informed generation shall prevent those who compose it +from swaggering about in all the pompous pride of young impostors, +who boast of knowing “the seven languages.” The reader will find an +illustration of this in the sketch of “Denis O'Shaughnessy going to +Maynooth.” + +In the meantime, I was unconsciously but rapidly preparing myself for +a position in Irish literature, which I little dreamt I should ever +occupy. I now mingled in the sports and pastimes of the people, until +indulgence in them became the predominant passion of mv youth. Throwing +the stone, wrestling, leaping, foot-ball, and every other description +of athletic exercise filled up the measure of my early happiness. I +attended every wake, dance, fair, and merry-making in the neighborhood, +and became so celebrated for dancing hornpipes, jigs, and reels, that I +was soon without a rival in the parish. + +This kind of life, though very delightful to a boy of my years, was not, +however, quite satisfactory, as it afforded me no ultimate prospect, and +the death of my father had occasioned the circumstances of the family +to decline. I heard, about this time, that a distant relative of mine, +a highly respectable priest, had opened a classical school near +Glasslough, in the county of Monaghan. To him I accordingly went, +mentioned our affinity, and had my claims allowed. I attended his school +with intermission for about two years, at the expiration of which period +I once more returned to our family, who were then very much reduced. + +I was now about nineteen, strong, active, and could leap two-and-twenty +feet on a dead level; but though thoroughly acquainted with Irish life +among my own class, I was as ignorant of the world as a child. Ever +since my boyhood, in consequence of the legends which I had heard from +my father, about the far-famed Lough-derg, or St. Patrick's Purgatory, I +felt my imagination fired with a romantic curiosity to perform a station +at that celebrated place. I accordingly did so, and the description of +that most penal performance, some years afterwards, not only constituted +my debut in literature, but was also the means of preventing me from +being a pleasant, strong-bodied parish priest at this day; indeed, it +was the cause of changing the whole destiny of my subsequent life. + +“The Loughderg Pilgrim” is given in the present edition, and may be +relied on, not so much as an ordinary narrative, as a perfect transcript +of what takes place during the stations which are held there in the +summer months. + +Having returned from this, I knew not exactly how to dispose of myself. +On one thing I was determined--never to enter the Church;--but this +resolution I kept faithfully to myself. I had nothing for it now but to +forget my sacerdotal prospects, which, as I have said, had already been +renounced, or to sink down as many others like me had done, into a mere +tiller of the earth,--a character in Ireland far more unpopular than +that which the Scotch call “a sticket minister!” + +It was about this period, that chance first threw the inimitable +Adventures of the renowned Gil Bias across my path. During my whole +life I had been an insatiable reader of such sixpenny romances and +history-books as the hedge-schools afforded. Many a time have I given +up my meals rather than lose one minute from the interest excited by +the story I was perusing. Having read _Gil Bias_, however, I felt an +irrepressible passion for adventure, which nothing could divert; in +fact, I was as much the creature of the impulse it excited, as the ship +is of the helmsman, or the steam-engine of the principle that guides it. + +Stimulated by this romantic love of adventure, I left my native place, +and directed my steps to the parish of Killanny, in the county of Louth, +the Catholic clergyman of which was a nephew of our own Parish Priest, +brother to him who proposed going to Munster with me, and an old +school-fellow of my own, though probably twenty years my senior. This +man's residence was within a quarter or half a mile's distance of the +celebrated Wild-goose Lodge, in which, some six months before, a +whole family, consisting of, I believe, eight persons, men, women, and +children, had been, from motives of personal vengeance, consumed to +ashes. I stopped with him for a fortnight, and succeeded in procuring +a tuition in the house of a wealthy farmer named Piers Murphy, near +Corcreagh. This, however, was a tame life, and a hard one, so I resolved +once more to give up a miserable salary and my board, for the fortunate +chances which an ardent temperament and a strong imagination perpetually +suggested to me as likely to be evolved out of the vicissitudes of life. +Urged on, therefore, by a spirit of romance, I resolved to precipitate +myself on the Irish Metropolis, which I accordingly entered with two +shillings and ninepence in my pocket; an utter stranger, of course +friendless; ignorant of the world, without aim or object, but not +without a certain strong feeling of vague and shapeless ambition, for +the truth was I had not yet begun to think, and, consequently, looked +upon life less as a reality than a vision. + +Thus have I, as a faithful, but I fear a dull guide, conducted my reader +from the lowly cottage in Prillisk, where I first drew my breath, along +those tangled walks and green lanes which are familiar to the foot of +the peasant alone, until I enter upon the highways of the world, and +strike into one of its greatest and most crowded thoroughfares--the +Metropolis. Whether this brief sketch of my early and humble life, my +education, my sports, my hopes and struggles, be calculated to excite +any particular interest, I know not; I can only assure my reader that +the details, so far as they go, are scrupulously correct and authentic, +and that they never would have been obtruded upon him, were it not from +an anxiety to satisfy him that in undertaking to describe the Irish +peasantry as they are, I approach the difficult task with advantages of +knowing them, which perhaps few Irish writers ever possessed; and this +is the only merit which I claim. + +A few words now upon the moral and physical condition of the people may +not be unsuitable before I close, especially for the sake of those who +may wish to acquire a knowledge of their general character, previous to +their perusal of the following volume. This task, it is true, is not +one of such difficulty now as it was some years ago. Much light has +been thrown on the Irish character, not only by the great names I have +already enumerated, but by some equally high which I have omitted. On +this subject it would be impossible to overlook the names of +Lever, Maxwell, or Otway, or to forget the mellow hearth-light and +chimney-corner tone, the happy dialogue and legendary truth which +characterize the exquisite fairy legends of Crofton Croker. Much of the +difficulty of the task, I say, has been removed by these writers, +but there remains enough still behind to justify me in giving a short +dissertation upon the habits and feelings of my countrymen. + +Of those whose physical state has been and is so deplorably wretched, it +may not be supposed that the tone of morals can be either high or pure; +and yet if we consider the circumstance in which he has been for such +a lengthened period placed, it is undeniable that the Irishman is a +remarkably moral man. Let us suppose, for instance, that in England +and Scotland the great body of the people had for a couple or three +centuries never received an adequate or proper education: in that case, +let us ask what the moral aspect of society in either country would be +to-day? But this is not merely the thing to be considered. The Irishman +was not only not educated, but actually punished for attempting to +acquire knowledge in the first place, and in the second, punished also +for the ignorance created by its absence. In other words, the penal +laws rendered education criminal, and then caused the unhappy people to +suffer for the crimes which proper knowledge would have prevented them +from, committing. It was just like depriving a man of his sight, and +afterwards causing him to be punished for stumbling. It is beyond +all question, that from the time of the wars of Elizabeth and the +introduction of the Reformation, until very recently, there was no fixed +system of wholesome education in the country. The people, possessed +of strong political and religious prejudices, were left in a state of +physical destitution and moral ignorance, such as were calculated to +produce ten times the amount of crime which was committed. Is it any +wonder, then, that in such a condition, social errors and dangerous +theories should be generated, and that neglect, and poverty, and +ignorance combined should give to the country a character for turbulence +and outrage? The same causes will produce the same effects in any +country, and were it not that the standard of personal and domestic +comfort was so low in Ireland, there is no doubt that the historian +would have a much darker catalogue of crime to record than he has. The +Irishman, in fact, was mute and patient under circumstances which would +have driven the better fed and more comfortable Englishman into open +outrage and contempt of all authority. God forbid that I for a moment +should become the apologist of crime, much less the crimes of my +countrymen! but it is beyond all question that the principles upon which +the country was governed have been such as to leave down to the present +day many of their evil consequences behind them. The penal code, to be +sure, is now abolished, but so are not many of its political effects +among the people. Its consequences have not yet departed from the +country, nor has the hereditary hatred of the laws, which unconsciously +descended from father to son, ceased to regulate their conduct and +opinions. Thousands of them are ignorant that ever such a thing as a +penal code existed; yet the feeling against law survives, although the +source from which it has been transmitted may be forgotten. This will +easily account for much of the political violence and crime which +moments of great excitement produce among us; nor need we feel surprised +that this state of things should be continued, to the manifest injury +of the people themselves, by the baneful effects of agitation. + +The period, therefore, for putting the character of our country fairly +upon, its trial has not yet arrived; although we are willing to take the +Irishman as we find him; nor would we shrink even at the present moment +from comparing him with any of his neighbors. His political sins and +their consequences were left him as an heirloom, and result from a state +of things which he himself did not occasion. Setting these aside, where +is the man to be found in any country who has carried with him through +all his privations and penalties so many of the best virtues of our +nature? In other countries the man who commits a great crime is always +a great criminal, and the whole heart is hardened and debased, but it +is not so in Ireland. The agrarian and political outrage is often +perpetrated by men who possess the best virtues of humanity, and whose +hearts as individuals actually abhor the crime. The moral standard here +is no doubt dreadfully erroneous, and until a correct and Christian one, +emanating from a better system of education, shall be substituted for +it, it will, with a people who so think and feel, be impossible utterly +to prevent the occurrence of these great evils. We must wait for thirty +or forty years, that is, until the rising or perhaps the subsequent +generation shall be educated out of these wild and destructive +prejudices, before we can fully estimate the degree of excellence to +which our national character may arrive. In my own youth, and I am +now only forty-four years, I do not remember a single school under the +immediate superintendence of either priest or parson, and that in a +parish the extent of which is, I dare say, ten miles by eight. The +instruction of the children was altogether a matter in which no clergy +of any creed took an interest. This was left altogether to hedge +schoolmasters, a class of men who, with few exceptions, bestowed such an +education upon the people as is sufficient almost, in the absence of all +other causes, to account for much of the agrarian violence and erroneous +principles which regulate their movements and feelings on that and +similar subjects. For further information on this matter the reader is +referred to the “Hedge School.” + +With respect to these darker shades of the Irish character, I feel that, +consistently with that love of truth and impartiality which has guided, +and I trust ever shall guide, my pen, I could not pass them over without +further notice. I know that it is a very questionable defence to say +that some, if not principally all, of their crimes originate in agrarian +or political vengeance. Indeed, I believe that, so far from this +circumstance being looked upon as a defence, it ought to be considered +as an aggravation of the guilt; inasmuch as it is, beyond all doubt, at +least a far more manly thing to inflict an injury upon an enemy face to +face, and under the influence of immediate resentment, than to crouch +like a cowardly assassin behind a hedge and coolly murder him without +one moment's preparation, or any means whatsoever of defence. This is a +description of crime which no man with one generous drop of blood in his +veins can think of without shame and indignation. Unhappily, however, +for the security of human life, every crime of the kind results more +from the dark tyranny of these secret confederacies, by which the lower +classes are organized, than from any natural appetite for shedding +blood. Individually, the Irish loathe murder as much as any people in +the world; but in the circumstances before us, it often happens that the +Irishman is not a free agent--very far from it: on the contrary, he +is frequently made the instrument of a system, to which he must become +either an obedient slave or a victim. + +Even here, however, although nothing can or ought to be said to palliate +the cowardly and unmanly crime of assassination, yet something can +certainly be advanced to account for the state of feeling by which, +from time to time, and by frequent occurrence, it came to be so +habitual among the people, that by familiarity it became stripped of its +criminality and horror. + +Now it is idle, and it would be dishonest, to deny the fact, that the +lower Irish, until a comparatively recent period, were treated with +apathy and gross neglect by the only class to whom they could or ought +to look up for sympathy or protection. The conferring of the elective +franchise upon the forty-shilling freeholders, or in other words upon +paupers, added to the absence of proper education, or the means +of acquiring it, generated, by the fraudulent subdivision of small +holdings, by bribery, perjury, and corruption, a state of moral feeling +among the poorer classes which could not but be productive of much +crime. And yet, notwithstanding this shameful prostitution of their +morals and comfort, for the purposes of political ambition or personal +aggrandizement, they were in general a peaceable and enduring people; +and it was only when some act of unjustifiable severity, or oppression +in the person of a middleman, agent, or hardhearted landlord, drove them +houseless upon the world, that they fell back upon the darker crimes +of which I am speaking. But what, I ask, could be expected from such a +state of things? And who generated it? It is not, indeed, to be wondered +at that a set of men, who so completely neglected their duties as +the old landlords of Ireland did, should have the very weapons turned +against themselves which their own moral profligacy first put into the +hands of those whom they corrupted. Up to this day the peasantry are +charged with indifference to the obligation of an oath, and in those who +still have anything to do in elections, I fear with too much truth. But +then let us inquire who first trained and familiarized them to it? Why, +the old landlords of Ireland; and now their descendants, and such of +themselves as survive, may behold, in the crimes which disgrace the +country, the disastrous effects of a bad system created by their +forefathers or themselves. + +In the meantime, I have no doubt that by the removal of the causes which +produced this deplorable state of things, their disastrous effects will +also soon disappear. That the present landlords of Ireland are, with the +ordinary number of exceptions, a very different class of men from those +who have gone before them, is a fact which will ultimately tell for the +peace and prosperity of the country. Let the ignorance of the people, +or rather the positive bad knowledge with which, as to a sense of civil +duties, their minds are filled, be removed, and replaced with principles +of a higher and more Christian tendency. Let the Irish landlords +consider the interests of their tenantry as their own, and there is +little doubt that with the aids of science, agricultural improvement, +and the advantages of superior machinery, the Irish will become a +prosperous, contented, and great people. + +It is not just to the general character of our people, however, to speak +of these crimes as national; for, in fact, they are not so. If Tipperary +and some of the adjoining parts of Munster were blotted out of the moral +map of the country, we would stand as a nation in a far higher position +than that which we occupy in the opinion of our neighbors. This is a +distinction which in justice to us ought to be made, for it is surely +unfair to charge the whole kingdom with the crimes which disgrace only +a single county of it, together with a few adjacent districts--allowing, +of course, for some melancholy exceptions in other parts. + +Having now discussed, with, I think, sufficient candor and impartiality, +that portion of our national character which appears worst and weakest +in the eyes of our neighbors, and attempted to show that pre-existing +circumstances originating from an unwise policy had much to do in +calling into existence and shaping its evil impulses, I come now to +a more agreeable task--the consideration, of our social and domestic +virtues. And here it is where the Irishman immeasurably outstrips all +competitors. His hospitality is not only a habit but a principle; and +indeed of such a quick and generous temperament is he, that in ninety +cases out of a hundred the feeling precedes the reflection, which in +others prompts the virtue. To be a stranger and friendless, or suffering +hunger and thirst, is at any time a sufficient passport to his heart and +purse; but it is not merely the thing or virtue, but also his manner +of doing it, that constitutes the charm which runs through his conduct. +There is a natural politeness and sincerity in his manner which no man +can mistake; and it is a fact, the truth of which I have felt a thousand +times, that he will make you feel the acceptance of the favor of +kindness he bestows to be a compliment to himself rather than to you. +The delicate ingenuity with which he diminishes the nature or amount of +his own kindness, proves that he is no common man, either in heart or +intellect; and when all fails he will lie like Lucifer himself, +and absolutely seduce you into an acceptance of his hospitality or +assistance. I speak now exclusively of the peasantry. Certainly in +domestic life there is no man so exquisitely affectionate and humanized +as the Irishman. The national imagination is active and the national +heart warm, and it follows very naturally that he should be, and is, +tender and strong in all his domestic relations. Unlike the people of +other nations, his grief is loud but lasting, vehement but deep; and +whilst its shadow has been chequered by the laughter and mirth of a +cheerful disposition, still in the moments of seclusion, at his bedside +prayer, or over the grave of those he loved, it will put itself forth +after half a life with a vivid power of recollection which is sometimes +almost beyond belief. + +The Irish, however, are naturally a refined people; but by this I mean +the refinement which appreciates and cherishes whatever there is in +nature, as manifested through the influence of the softer arts of music +and poetry. The effect of music upon the Irish heart I ought to know +well, and no man need tell me that a barbarous or cruel people ever +possessed national music that was beautiful and pathetic. The music of +any nation is the manifestation of its general feeling, and not that +which creates it; although there is no doubt but the one when formed +perpetuates and reproduces the other. It is no wonder, then, that the +domestic feelings of the Irish should be so singularly affectionate +and strong, when we consider that they have been, in spite of every +obstruction, kept under the softening influence of music and poetry. +This music and poetry, too, essentially their own--and whether streaming +of a summer through their still glens, or poured forth at the winter +hearth, still, by its soft and melancholy spirit, stirring up a thousand +tender associations that must necessarily touch and improve the heart. +And it is for this reason that, that heart becomes so remarkably +eloquent, if not poetical, when moved by sorrow. Many a time I have seen +a Keener commence her wail over the corpse of a near relative, and by +degrees she has risen from the simple wail or cry to a high but mournful +recitative, extemporized, under the excitement of the moment, into +sentiments that were highly figurative and impressive. In this she +was aided very much by the genius of the language, which possesses the +finest and most copious vocabulary in the world for the expression of +either sorrow or love. + +It has been said that the Irish, notwithstanding a deep susceptibility +of sorrow, are a light-hearted people; and this is strictly true. What, +however, is the one fact but a natural consequence of the other? No man +for instance ever possessed a higher order of humor, whose temperament +was not naturally melancholy, and no country in the world more clearly +establishes that point than Ireland. Here the melancholy and mirth are +not simply in a proximate state, but frequently flash together, and +again separate so quickly, that the alternation or blending, as the case +may be, whilst it is felt by the spectators, yet stands beyond all known +rules of philosophy to solve it. Any one at all acquainted with Ireland, +knows that in no country is mirth lighter, or sorrow deeper, or the +smile and the tear seen more frequently on the face at the same moment. +Their mirth, however, is not levity, nor their sorrow gloom; and for +this reason none of those dreary and desponding reactions take place, +which, as in France especially, so frequently terminate in suicide. + +The recreations of the Irish were very varied and some of them of +a highly intellectual cast. These latter, however, have altogether +disappeared from the country, or at all events are fast disappearing. +The old Harper is now hardly seen; the Senachie, where he exists, is but +a dim and faded representative of that very old Chronicler in his palmy +days; and the Prophecy-man unfortunately has survived the failure of +his best and most cherished predictions. The poor old Prophet's stock +in trade is nearly exhausted, and little now remains but the slaughter +which is to take place at the mill of Louth, when human blood, and the +miller to have six fingers and two thumbs on each hand, as a collateral +prognostication of that bloody event. + +The amusement derived from these persons was undoubtedly of a very +imaginative character, and gives sufficient proof, that had the national +intellect been duly cultivated, it is difficult to say in what position +as a literary country Ireland might have stood at this day. At present +the national recreations, though still sufficiently varied and numerous +are neither so strongly marked nor diversified as formerly. Fun, or +the love of it, to be sure, is an essential principle in the Irish +character; and nothing that can happen, no matter how solemn or how +sorrowful it may be, is allowed to proceed without it. In Ireland the +house of death is sure to be the merriest one in the neighborhood; but +here the mirth is kindly and considerately introduced, from motives of +sympathy--in other words, for the alleviation of the mourners' sorrow. +The same thing may be said of its association with religion. Whoever has +witnessed a Station in Ireland made at some blessed lake or holy well, +will understand this. At such places it is quite usual to see young +men and women devoutly circumambulating the well or lake on their bare +knees, with all the marks of penitence and contrition strongly +impressed upon their faces; whilst again, after an hour or two, the same +individuals may be found in a tent dancing with ecstatic vehemence to +the music of the bagpipe or fiddle. + +All these things, however, will be found, I trust I may say faithfully +depicted in the following volume--together with many other important +features of our general character; which I would dwell on here, were it +not that they are detailed very fully in other parts of my works, and I +do not wish to deprive them of the force of novelty when they occur, nor +to appear heavy by repetition. + +In conclusion, I have endeavored, with what success has been already +determined by the voice of my own country, to give a panorama of Irish +life among the people--comprising at one view all the strong points of +their general character--their loves, sorrows, superstitions, piety, +amusements, crimes, and virtues; and in doing this, I can say with +solemn truth that I painted them honestly, and without reference to the +existence of any particular creed or party. + +W. Carleton. + +Dublin. + + + + +NED M'KEOWN. + +Ned M'Keown's house stood exactly in an angle, formed by the cross-roads +of Kilrudden. It was a long, whitewashed building, well thatched and +furnished with the usual appurtenances of yard and offices. Like most +Irish houses of the better sort, it had two doors, one opening into a +garden that sloped down from the rear in a southern direction. The barn +was a continuation of the dwelling-house, and might be distinguished +from it by a darker shade of color, being only rough-cast. It was +situated on a small eminence, but, with respect to the general locality +of the country, in a delightful vale, which runs up, for twelve or +fourteen miles, between two ranges of dark, well-defined mountains, that +give to the interjacent country the form of a low inverted arch. +This valley, which altogether, allowing for the occasional breaks and +intersections of hill-ranges, extends upwards of thirty miles in length, +is the celebrated valley of the “Black Pig,” so well known in the +politico-traditional history of Ireland, and the legends connected with +the famous Beal Dearg.* + + * The following extract, taken from a sketch by the author + called “The Irish Prophecy-man,” contains a very appropriate + illustration of the above passage. “I have a little book + that contains a prophecy of the milk-white hind an' the + bloody panther, an' a foreboding of the slaughter there's to + be in the Valley of the Black Pig, as foretould by Beal + Derg, or the prophet wid the red mouth, who never was known + to speak but when he prophesied, or to prophesy but when he + spoke.” + + “The Lord bless an' keep us!--an' why was he called the Man + with the Red Mouth, Barney?” + + “I'll tell you that: first, bekase he always prophesied + about the slaughter an' fightin' that was to take place in + the time to come; an', secondly, bekase, while he spoke, the + red blood always trickled out of his mouth, as a proof that + what he foretould was true.” + + “Glory be to God! but that's wondherful all out. Well, + we'll!” + + “Ay, an' Beal Deig, or the Red Mouth, is still livin'.” + + “Livin! why, is he a man of our own time?” + + “Our own time! The Lord help you! It's more than a thousand + years since he made the prophecy. The case you see is this: + he an' the ten thousand witnesses are lyin' in an enchanted + sleep in one of the Montherlony mountains.” + + “An' how is that known, Barney?” + + “It's known, Every night at a certain hour one of the + witnesses--an' they're all sogers, by the way--must come out + to look for the sign that's to come.” + + “An' what is that, Barney?” + + “It's the fiery cross; an' when he sees one on aich of the + four mountains of the north, he's to know that the same + sign's abroad in all the other parts of the kingdom. Beal + Derg an' his men are then to waken up, an' by their aid the + Valley of the Black Pig is to be set free forever.” + + “An' what is the Black Pig, Barney?” + + “The Prospitarian church, that stretches from Enniskillen to + Darry, an' back again from Darry to Enniskillen.” + + “Well, well, Barney, but prophecy is a strange thing, to be + sure! Only think of men livin' a thousand years!” + + “Every night one of Beal Derg's men must go to the mouth of + the cave, which opens of itself, an' then look out for the + sign that's expected. He walks up to the top of the + mountain, an' turns to the four corners of the heavens, to + thry if he can see it; an' when he finds that he cannot, he + goes back to Beal Derg. who, afther the other touches him, + starts up and axis him, 'Is the time come?' He replies, 'No; + the _man is_, but the _hour is not!_' an' that instant + they're both asleep again. Now, you see, while the soger is + on the mountain top, the mouth of the cave is open, an' any + one may go in that might happen to see it. One man it + appears did, an' wishin' to know from curiosity whether the + sogers were dead or livin', he touched one of them wid his + hand, who started up an' axed him the same question, 'Is the + time come?' Very fortunately he said, 'No;' an' that minute + the soger was as sound in his trance as before.” + + “An', Barney, what did the soger mane when he said. 'The man + is, but the hour is not?'” + + “What did he mane? I'll tell you that. The man is + Bonyparty, which manes, when put into proper explanation, + the _right side_; that is, the true cause. Larned men have + found _that_ out.” + +That part of it where Ned M'Keown resided was peculiarly beautiful and +romantic. From the eminence on which the house stood, a sweep of the +most fertile meadowland stretched away to the foot of a series of +intermingled hills and vales, which bounded this extensive carpet +towards the north. Through these meadows ran a smooth river, called the +Mullin-burn, which wound its way through them with such tortuosity, that +it was proverbial in the neighborhood to say of any man remarkable for +dishonesty, “He's as crooked as the Mullin-burn,” an epithet which was +sometimes, although unjustly, jocularly applied to Ned himself. This +deep but narrow river had its origin in the glens and ravines of a +mountain which bounded the vale in a south-eastern direction; and +after sudden and heavy rains it tumbled down with such violence and +impetuosity over the crags and rock-ranges in its way, and accumulated +so amazingly, that on reaching the meadows it inundated their surface, +carrying away sheep, cows, and cocks of hay upon its yellow flood. It +also boiled and eddied, and roared with a hoarse _sugh_, that was heard +at a considerable distance. + +On the north-west side ran a ridge of high hills, with the cloud-capped +peek of Knockmany rising in lofty eminence above them; these, as they +extended towards the south, became gradually deeper in their hue, until +at length they assumed the shape and form of heath-clad mountains, +dark and towering. The prospect on either range is highly pleasing, +and capable of being compared with any I have ever seen, in softness, +variety, and that serene lustre which reposes only on the surface of a +country rich in the beauty of fertility, and improved, by the hand of +industry and taste. Opposite Knockmany, at a distance of about four +miles, on the south-eastern side, rose the huge and dark outline of +Cullimore, standing out in gigantic relief against the clear blue of a +summer sky, and flinging down his frowning and haughty shadow almost to +the firm-set base of his lofty rival; or, in winter, wrapped in a mantle +of clouds, and crowned with unsullied snow, reposing in undisturbed +tranquillity, whilst the loud voice of storms howled around him. + +To the northward, immediately behind Cullimore, lies Althadhawan, a +deep, craggy, precipitous glen, running up to its very base, and wooded +with oak, hazel, rowan-tree, and holly. This picturesque glen extends +two or three miles, until it melts into the softness of grove and +meadow, in the rich landscape below. Then, again, on the opposite side, +is _Lumford's Glen_, with its overhanging rocks, whose yawning depth and +silver waterfall, of two hundred feet, are at once finely and fearfully +contrasted with the elevated peak of Knockmany, rising into the clouds +above it. + +From either side of these mountains may be seen six or eight country +towns--the beautiful grouping of hill and plain, lake, river, grove, and +dell--the reverend cathedral (of Clogher)--the white-washed cottage, and +the comfortable farm-house. To these may be added the wild upland +and the cultivated demesne, the green sheep-walk, the dark moor, +the splendid mansion, and ruined castle of former days. Delightful +remembrance! Many a day, both of sunshine and storm, have I, in the +strength and pride of happy youth, bounded, fleet as the mountain foe, +over these blue hills! Many an evening, as the yellow beams of the +setting sun shot slantingly, like rafters of gold, across the depth +of this blessed and peaceful valley, have I followed, in solitude, the +impulses of a wild and wayward fancy, and sought the quiet dell, or +viewed the setting sun, as he scattered his glorious and shining beams +through the glowing foliage of the trees, in the vista, where I stood; +or wandered along the river whose banks were fringed with the hanging +willow, whilst I listened to the thrush singing among the hazels that +crowned the sloping green above me, or watched the splashing otter, as +he ventured from the dark angles and intricacies of the upland glen, +to seek his prey in the meadow-stream during the favorable dusk of +twilight. Many a time have I heard the simple song of Roger M'Cann, +coming from the top of brown Dunroe, mellowed, by the stillness of the +hour, to something far sweeter to the heart than all that the labored +pomp of musical art and science can effect; or the song of Katty Roy, +the beauty of the village, streaming across the purple-flowered moor, + + “Sweet as the shepherd's pipe upon the mountains.” + +Many a time, too, have I been gratified, in the same poetical hour, by +the sweet sound of honest Ned M'Keown's ungreased cartwheels, clacking, +when nature seemed to have fallen asleep after the day-stir and +animation of rural business--for Ned was sometimes a carman--on his +return from Dublin with a load of his own groceries, without as much +money in his pocket as would purchase oil wherewith to silence the +sounds which the friction produced--regaling his own ears the while, as +well as the music of the cart would permit his melody to be heard, with +his favorite tune of Cannie Soogah.* + + * “The Jolly Pedlar,”--a fine old Irish air. + +Honest, blustering, good-humored Ned was the indefatigable merchant of +the village; ever engaged in some ten or twenty pound speculation, the +capital of which he was sure to extort, perhaps for the twelfth time, +from the savings of Nancy's frugality, by the equivocal test of a month +or six weeks' consecutive sobriety, and which said speculation he never +failed to wind up by the total loss of the capital for Nancy, and +the capital loss of a broken head for himself. Ned had eternally some +bargain on his hands: at one time you might see him a yarn-merchant, +planted in the next market-town upon the upper step of Mr. Birney's +hall-door, where the yarn-market was held, surrounded by a crowd of +eager country-women, anxious to give Ned the preference, first, because +he was a well-wisher; secondly, because he hadn't his heart in the +penny; and thirdly, because he gave sixpence a spangle more than any +other man in the market. + +There might Ned be found; with his twenty pounds of hard silver jingling +in the bottom of a green bag, as a decoy to his customers, laughing loud +as he piled the yarn in and ostentatious heap, which in the pride of his +commercial sagacity, he had purchased at a dead loss. Again you might +see him at a horse-fair, cantering about on the back of some sleek +but broken-winded jade, with spavined legs, imposed on him as “a great +bargain entirely,” by the superior cunning of some rustic sharper; or +standing over a hogshead of damaged flaxseed, in the purchase of which +he shrewdly suspected himself of having overreached the seller--by +allowing him for it a greater price than the prime seed of the market +would have cost tim. In short, Ned was never out of a speculation, and +whatever he undertook was sure to prove a complete failure. But he +had one mode of consolation, which consisted in sitting down with the +fag-end of Nancy's capital in his pocket, and drinking night and day +with this neighbor and that, whilst a shilling remained; and when he +found himself at the end of his tether, he was sure to fasten a quarrel +on some friend or acquaintance, and to get his head broken for his +pains. + +None of all this blustering, however, happened within the range of +Nancy's jurisdiction. Ned, indeed, might drink and sing, and swagger and +fight--and he contrived to do so; but notwithstanding all his apparent +courage, there was one eye which made him quail, and before which he +never put on the hector;--there was one, in whose presence the loudness +of his song would fall away into a very awkward and unmusical quaver, +and under whose glance his laughing face often changed to the visage of +a man who is disposed to anything but mirth. + +The fact was this: Whenever Ned found that his speculation was gone +a shaughran, (*Gone astray) as he termed it, he fixed himself in some +favorite public house, from whence he seldom stirred while his money +lasted, except when dislodged by Nancy, who usually, upon learning where +he had taken cover, paid him an unceremonious visit, to which Ned's +indefensible delinquency gave the color of legitimate authority. Upon +these occasions, Nancy, accompanied by two sturdy “servant-boys,” would +sally forth to the next market-town, for the purpose of bringing home +“graceless Ned,” as she called him. And then you might see Ned between +the two servants, a few paces in advance of Nancy, having very much +the appearance of a man performing a pilgrimage to the gallows, or of +a deserter guarded back to his barrack, in order to become a target for +the muskets of his comrades. Ned's compulsory return always became +a matter of some notoriety; for Nancy's excursion in quest of the +“graceless” was not made without frequent denunciations of wrath against +him, and many melancholy apologies to the neighbors for entering upon +the task of personally securing him. By this means her enterprise was +sure to get wind, and a mob of the idle young men and barefooted +urchins of the village, with Bob M'Cann, “a three-quarter clift” * of +a fellow--half knave, half fool, was to be found, a little below the +village, upon an elevation of the road, that commanded a level stretch +of half a mile or so, in anxious expectation of the procession. No +sooner had this arrived at the point of observation, than the little +squadron would fall rearward of the principal group, for the purpose of +extracting from Nancy a full and particular account of the capture. + +[Illustration: PAGE 656-- Bringing home “graceless Ned,”] + + * This is equal to the proverb--“he wants a square,” that + is, though knavish not thoroughly rational; in other words, + a combination of knave and fool. Bob, in consequence of his + accomplishments, was always a great favorite in the village. + Upon some odd occasions he was a ready and willing drudge at + everything, and as strong as a ditch. Give him only a good + fog-meal--which was merely a trifle, just what would serve + three men or so--give him, we say, a fog-meal of this kind, + about five times a day, with a liberal promise of more, and + never was there a Scotch Brownie who could get through so + much work. He knew no fatigue; frost and cold had no power + over him; wind, sleet, and hail he laughed at; rain! it + stretched his skin, he said, after a meal--and that, he + added, was a comfort. Notwithstanding all this, he was + neither more nor less than an impersonation of laziness, + craft, and gluttony. The truth is, that unless in the hope + of being gorged he would do nothing; and the only way to get + anything out of him was, never to let the gorge precede the + labor, but always, on the contrary, to follow it. Bob's + accomplishments were not only varied, but of a very elevated + order, and the means of holding him in high odor among us. + Great and wonderful, Heaven knows, did we look upon his + endowments to be. No man, wise or otherwise, could “hunt the + brock,” alias the badger, within a hundred miles of Bob; for + when he covered his mouth with his two hands, and gave forth + the very sounds which the badger is said to utter, did we + not look upon him--Bob--with as much wonder and reverence as + we would have done upon the badger himself? Phup-um-phup-- + phup-um-phup--phup-um--phup-um--phup-um-phup. Who but a + first-rate genius could accomplish this feat in such a + style? Bob could crow like a cock, bark like a dog, mew like + a cat, neigh like a horse, bray like an ass, or gobble like + a turkey-cock. Unquestionably, I have never heard him + equalled as an imitator of birds and beasts. Bob's crack + feat, however, was performing the Screw-pin Dance, of which + we have only this to say, that by whatsoever means he became + acquainted with it, it is precisely the same dance which is + said to have been exhibited by some strolling Moor before + the late Queen Caroline. It is, indeed, very strange, but no + less true, that many of the oriental customs are yet + prevalent in the remote and isolated parts of Ireland. Had + the late Mr. O'Brien, author of the Essay on Irish Round + Towers, seen Bob perform the dance I speak of, he would have + hailed him as a regular worshipper of Budh, and adduced his + performance as a living confirmation of his theory. Poor + Bob! he is gone the way of all fools, and all flesh. + +“Indeed, childher, it's no wonder for yez to enquire! Where did I get +him, Dick?--musha, and where would I get him but in the ould place, +a-hagur; with the ould set: don't yez know that a dacent place or dacent +company wouldn't sarve Ned?--nobody but Shane Martin, and Jimmy Tague, +and the other blackguards.” * + + * The reader, here, is not to rely implicitly upon the + accuracy of Nancy's description of the persons alluded to. + It is true the men were certainly companions and intimate + acquaintances of Ned's, but not entitled to the epithet + which Nancy in her wrath bestowed upon them. Shane was a + rollicking fighting, drinking butcher, who cared not a fig! + whether he treated you to a drink or a drubbing, indeed, it + was at all times extremely difficult to say whether he was + likely to give you the drink first or the drubbing + afterwards, or vice versa. Sometimes he made the drubbing + the groundwork for the drink and quite as frequently the + drink the groundwork for the drubbing. Either one or other + you were sure to receive at his hands; but his general + practice was to give both. Shane, in fact, was a good- + humored fellow, well liked, and nobody's enemy but his own. + Jemmy Tague was a quiet man, who could fight his corner, + however, if necessary. Shane,was called Kittogue Shane, from + being left-handed. Both were butchers, and both, we believe, + alive and kicking at this day. + +“And what will you do with him, Nancy?” + +“Och! thin, Dick, avourneen, it's myself that's jist tired thinking of +that; at any rate, consamin' to the loose foot he'll get this blessed +month to come, Dick, agra!” + +“Throth, Nancy,” another mischievous monkey would exclaim, “if +you hadn't great patience entirely, you couldn't put up with such +threatment, at all at all.” + +“Why thin, God knows it's true for-you, Barney. D'ye hear that, +'graceless?' the very childhre making a laughing-stock and a may-game of +you!--but wait till we get under the roof, any how.” + +“Ned,” a third would say, “isn't it a burning shame for you to break +the poor crathur's heart this a-way? Throth, but you ought to hould down +your head, sure enough--a dacent woman! that only for her you wouldn't +have a house over you, so you wouldn't.” + +“And throth, and the same house is going, Tim,” Nancy would exclaim, +“and when it goes, let him see thin who'll do for him; let him thry if +his blackguards will stand to him, when he won't have poor foolish Nancy +at his back.” + +During these conversations, Ned would walk on between his two guards +with a dogged-looking and condemned face; Nancy behind him, with his own +cudgel, ready to administer an occasional bang whenever he attempted +to slacken his pace, or throw over his shoulder a growl of dissent or +justification. + +On getting near home, the neighbors would occasionally pop out their +heads, with a smile of good-humored satire on their faces, which Nancy +was very capable of translating: + +“Ay,” she would say, addressing them, “I've caught him--here he is to +the fore. Indeed you may well laugh, Kitty Rafferty; not a one of myself +blames you for it.--Ah, ye mane crathur,” aside to Ned, “if you had the +blood of a hen in you, you wouldn't have the neighbors braking their +hearts laughing at you in sich a way; and above all the people in the +world, them Rafferty's, that got the decree against us at the last +sessions, although I offered to pay within fifteen shillings of the +differ--the grubs!” + +Having seen her hopeful charge safely deposited on the hob, Nancy would +throw her cloak into this corner, and her bonnet into that, with the air +of a woman absorbed by the consideration of some vexatious trial; +she would then sit down, and, lighting her doodeen, (* a short pipe) +exclaim-- + +“Wurrah, wurrah! but it's me that's the heart-scalded crathur with that +man's four quarters! The Lord may help me and grant me patience with +him, any way!--to have my little honest, hard-earned penny spint among +a pack of vagabonds, that don't care if him and me wor both down the +river, so they could get their skinful of drink out of him! No matther, +agra, things can't long be this a-way; but what does Ned care?--give him +drink and fighting, and his blackguards about him, and that's his glory. +There now's the landlord coming down upon us for the rint; and unless he +takes the cows out of the byre, or the bed from anundher us, what in the +wide earth is there for him?” + +The current of this lecture was never interrupted by a single +observation from Ned, who usually employed himself in silently playing +with “Bunty;” a little black cur, without a tail, and a great favorite +with Nancy; or, if he noticed anything out of its place in the house, +he would arrange it with great apparent care. In the meantime, Nancy's +wrath generally evaporated with the smoke of the pipe--a circumstance +which Ned well knew; for after she had sucked it until it emitted a +shrill, bubbling sound, like that from a reed, her brows, which wore +at other times an habitual frown, would gradually relax into a more +benevolent expression--the parenthetical curves on each side of her +mouth, formed by the irascible pursing of her lips, would become less +marked--the dog or cat, or whatever else came in her way, instead +of being kicked aside, or pursued in an underfit of digressional +peevishness, would be put out of her path with gentler force--so that +it was, in such circumstances, a matter of little difficulty to perceive +that conciliation would soon be the order of the day. Ned's conduct on +these critical occasions was very prudent and commendable: he still gave +Nancy her own way; never “jawed back to her;” but took shelter, as it +were, under his own patience, until the storm had passed, and the sun of +her good humor began to shine out again. Nancy herself, now softened +by the fumes of her own pigtail, usually made the first overtures to a +compromise, but, without departing from the practice and principles +of higher negotiators; always in an indirect manner: as, “Biddy, +avourneen,” speaking to her niece, “maybe that crathur,” pointing! to +Ned, “ate nothing to-day; you had better, agra! get him the could bacon +that's in the cupboard, and warm for him, upon the greeshaugh, (* hot +embers) them yallow-legs (* a kind of potato) that's in the colindher; +though God he knows it's ill my common (* It's ill-becoming--or it ill +becomes me, to everlook his conduct)--but no matther, ahagur! There's +enough said, I'm thinking--give them to him.” + +On Ned seating himself to his bacon and potatoes, Nancy would light +another pipe, and plant herself on the opposite hob, putting some +interrogatory to him, in the way of business--always concerning a third +person, and still in a tone of dry ironical indifference: as-- + +“Did you see Jimmy Connolly on your travels?” + +“No.” + +“Humph! Can you tell us if Andy Morrow sould his coult?” + +“He did.” + +“May be you have _gumption_ enough to know what he got for him?” + +“Fifteen guineas.” + +“In troth, and it's more nor a poor body would get; but, anyway, Andy +Morrow desarves to get a good price; he's a man that takes care of his +own business, and minds nothing else. I wish that filly of ours was +dockt; you ought to spake to Jim M'Quade about her: it's time to make +her up--you know, we'll want to sell her for the rint.” + +This was an assertion, by the way, which Ned knew to have everything but +truth in it. + +“Never heed the filly,” Ned would reply, “I'll get Charley Lawdher (* +A blacksmith, and an honest man) to dock her--but it's not her I'm +thinking of: did you hear the news about the tobacky?” + +“No; but I hope we won't be long go.” + +“Well, any how, we wor in luck to buy in them three last rowls.” + +“Eh?--in luck? death-alive, how, Ned?” + +“Sure there was three ships of it lost last week, on their way from the +kingdom of Swuzerland, in the Aist Indians, where it grows: we can rise +it thruppence a-pound now.” + +“No, Ned! you're not in airnest?” + +“Faith, Nancy, you may say I am; and as soon as Tom Loan comes home from +Dublin, he'll tell us all about it; and for that matther, maybe it may +rise sixpence a-pound; any how we'll gain a lob by it, I'm thinking.” + +“May I never stir, but that's luck! Well, Ned, you may thank me for +that, any way, or sorra rowl we'd have in the four corners of the +house; and you wanted to persuade me against buying them; but I knew +betther--for the tobacky's always sure to get a bit of a hitch at this +time o' the year.” + +“Bedad, you can do it, Nancy: I'll say that for you--that is, and give +you your own way.” + +“Eh!--can't I, Ned? And, what waa betther, I bate down Pether M'Entee +three-ha'pence a-pound afther I bought them.” + +“Ha! ha! ha!--by my sannies, Nancy, as to market-making, they may +all throw their caps at you, you thief o' the world; you can do them +nately!” + +“Ha! ha! ha! Stop, Ned; don't drink that water--it's not from the +garden-well. I'll jist mix a sup of this last stuff we got from the +mountains, till you taste it: I think it's not worse nor the last--for +Hugh Traynor's * an ould hand at making it.” + + * Hugh, who, by the way, is still living, and, I am glad to + hear, in improved circumstances, was formerly in the habit + of making a drop of the right sort. + +This was all Ned wanted: his point was now carried; but with respect to +the rising of the tobacco, the less that is said about it the bettor for +his veracity. + +Having thus given the reader a slight sketch of Ned and Nancy, and of +the beautiful valley in which this worthy speculator had his residence, +I shall next proceed to introduce him to the village circle, which, +during the long winter nights, might be found in front of Ned's +kitchen-fire of blazing turf, whose light was given back in ruddy +reflection from the bright pewter plates, that were ranged upon the +white and well-scoured dresser in just and gradual order, from the small +egg-plate to the large and capacious dish, whereon, at Christmas and +Easter, the substantial round of corned beef used to rear itself so +proudly over the more ignoble joints at the lower end of the table. + +Seated in this clear-obscure of domestic light--which, after all, gives +the heart a finer and more touching notion of enjoyment than the glitter +of the theatre or the blaze of the saloon--might be found first, Andy +Morrow,* the juryman of the quarter-sessions, sage and important in the +consciousness of legal knowledge, and somewhat dictatorial withal in its +application to such knotty points as arose out of the subjects of +their nocturnal debates. Secondly, Bob Gott, who filled the foreign and +military departments, and related the wonderful history of the ghost +which appeared to him on the night after the battle of Bunker's-hill. To +him succeeded Tom M'Roarkin, the little asthmatic anecdotarian of half +the country,--remarkable for chuckling at his own stories. Then came old +M'Kinny, poacher and horse-jockey; little, squeaking, thin-faced Alick +M'Kinley, a facetious farmer of substance; and Shane Fadh, who handed +down, traditions and fairy tales. Enthroned on one hob sat Pat Frayne, +the schoolmaster with the short arm, who read and explained the +newspaper for “old Square Colwell,” and was looked upon as premier to +the aforesaid cabinet; Ned himself filled the opposite seat of honor. + +One night, a little before the Christmas holidays in the year 18--, the +personages just described were seated around Ned's fire, some with their +chirping pints of ale or porter, and others with their quantum of +_Hugh Traynor_, or mountain-dew, and all with good humor, and a strong +tendency to happiness, visible in their faces. The night was dark, +close, and misty; so dark, indeed, that, as Nancy said, “you could +hardly see your finger before you.” Ned himself was full of fun, with +a pint of porter beside him, and a pipe in his mouth, just in his glory +for the night. Opposite to him was Pat Frayne, with an old newspaper on +his knee, which he had just perused for the edification of his +audience; beside him was, Nancy, busily employed in knitting a pair +of sheep's-grey stockings for Ned; the remaining personages formed a +semicircular ring about the hearth. Behind, on the kitchen-table sat +Paddy Smith, the servant-man, with three or four of the _gorsoons_ of +the village about him, engaged in an under-plot of their own. On the +other, a little removed from the light, sat Ned's two nieces, Biddy and +Bessy Connolly, former with Atty Johnson's mouth within whisper-reach +of her ear, and the latter seated close to her professed admirer, Billy +Fulton, her uncle's shopman.* This group; was completely abstracted from +the entertainment which was going forward in the circle round the fire. + + * Each pair have been since married, and live not more + happily than I wish them. Fulton still lives in Ned's house + at the Cross-roads. + +“I wondher,” said Andy Morrow, “what makes Joe M'Crea throw down that +fine ould castle of his, in Aughentain?” + +“I'm tould,” said M'Roarkin, “that he expects money; for they say +there's a lot of it buried somewhere about the same building.” + +“Jist as much as there's in my wig,” replied Shane Fadh, “and there's +ne'er a pocket to it yet. Why, bless your sowl, how could there be money +in it, whin the last man of the Grameses that owned it--I mane of the +ould stock, afore it went into Lord Mountjoy's hands--sould it out, ran +through the money, and died begging afther'? Did none of you ever hear +of-- + + '---- ---- ---- ---- Ould John Grame, + That swally'd the castle of Aughentain?'” + +“That was long afore my time,” said the poacher; “but I know that the +rabbit-burrow between that and Jack Appleden's garden will soon be run +out.” + +“Your time!” responded Shane Fadh, with contempt; “ay, and your father's +afore you: my father doesn't remimber more nor seeing his funeral, and +a merry one it was; for my grandfather, and some of them that had a +respect for the family and his forbarers, if they hadn't it for himself, +made up as much money among them as berried him dacently any how,--ay, +and gave him a rousin' wake into the bargain, with lashins of whiskey, +stout beer, and ale; for in them times--God be with them every farmer +brewed his own ale and beer;--more betoken, that one pint of it was +worth a keg of this wash of yours, Ned.” + +“Wasn't it he that used to _appear?_” inquired M'Roarkin. + +“Sure enough he did, Tom.” + +“Lord save us,” said Nancy, “what could trouble him, I dunna?” + +“Why,” continued Shane Fadh, “some said one thing, and some another; +but the upshot of it was this: when the last of the Grameses sould the +estate, castle, and all, it seems he didn't resave all the purchase +money; so, afther he had spint what he got, he applied to the purchaser +for the remainder--him that the Mountjoy family bought it from; but it +seems he didn't draw up writings, or sell it according to law, so that +the thief o' the world baffled him from day to day, and wouldn't give +him a penny--bekase he knew, the blaggard, that the Square was then as +poor as a church mouse, and hadn't money enough to thry it at law with +him; but the Square was always a simple asy-going man. One day he went +to this fellow, riding on an ould garran, with a shoe loose--the only +baste he had in the world--and axed him, for God's sake, to give him of +what he owed him, if it was ever so little; 'for,' says he, 'I huve +not as much money betune me and death as will get a set of shoes for my +horse.'” + +“'Well,' says the nager, 'if-you're not able to keep your horse shod, I +would jist recommend you to sell him, and thin his shoes won't cost you +any thing,' says he. + +“The ould Square went away with tears in his eyes,--for he loved the +poor brute, bekase they wor the two last branches of the ould stock.” + +“Why,” inquired M'Kinley, in his small squeaking voice, “was the horse +related to the family?” + +“I didn't say he was related to the fam---- + +“Get out, you _shingaun!_” (* Fairy-like, or connected to the fairies) +returned the old man, perceiving by the laugh that now went round, the +sly tendency of the question--“no, nor to your family either, for he +had nothing of the ass in him--eh? will you put that in your pocket, my +little _skinadhre_ (* A thin, fleshless, stunted person.)--ha! ha! ha!” + +The laugh was now turned against M'Kinley. + +Shane Fadh proceeded: “The ould Square, as I was tellin yez, cried to +find himself an' the poor baste so dissolute; but when he had gone a bit +from the fellow, he comes back to the vagabone--'Now,' says he, 'mind my +words--if you happen to live afther me, you need never expect a night's +pace; for I here make a serous an' solemn vow, that as long as my +property's in your possession, or in any of your seed, breed, or +gineration's, I'll never give over hauntin' you an' them, till you'll +rue to the back-bone your dishonesty an' chathery to me an' this poor +baste, that hasn't a shoe to his foot.' + +“'Well,' says the nager, 'I'll take chance of that, any way.'” + +“I'm tould, Shane,” observed the poacher, “that the Square was a fine +man in his time, that wouldn't put up with sich treatment from anybody.” + +“Ay, but he was ould now,” Shane replied, “and too wakely to fight.--A +fine man, Bill!--he was the finest man, 'cepting ould Square Storey, +that ever was in this counthry. I hard my granfather often say that he +was six feet four, and made in proportion--a handsome, black-a-vis'd +man, with great dark whiskers. Well! he spent money like sklates, and so +he died miserable--but had a merry birrel, as I said.” + +“But,” inquired Nancy, “did he ever appear to the rogue that chated +him?” + +“Every night in the year, Nancy, exceptin' Sundays; and what was more, +the horse along with him--for he used to come ridin' at midnight upon +the same garran; and it was no matther what place or company the other +'ud be in, the ould Square would come reglarly, and crave him for what +he owed him.” + +“So it appears that horses have sowls,” observed M'Roarkin, +philosophically, giving, at the same time, a cynical chuckle at the +sarcasm contained in his own conceit. + +“Whether they have sowls or bodies,” replied the narrator, “what I'm +tellin' you is truth; every night in the year the ould chap would come +for what was indue him; find as the two went along, the noise of the +loose shoe upon the horse would be hard rattlin', and seen knockin' the +fire out of the stones, by the neighbors and the thief that chated him, +even before the Square would appeal at all at all.” + +“Oh, wurrah!” exclaimed Nancy, shuddering with terror. “I wouldn't take +anything and be out now on the _Drumfarrar road_*, and nobody with me +but myself.” + + *A lonely mountain-road, said to have been haunted. It is on + this road that the coffin scenes mentioned in the Party + fight and Funeral is laid. + +“I think if you wor,” said M'Kinley, “the light weights and short +measures would be comin' acrass your conscience.” + +“No, in troth, Alick, wouldn't they; but may be if you wor, the promise +you broke to Sally Mitchell might trouble you a bit: at any rate, I've a +prayer, and if I only repated it wanst, I mightn't be afeard of all the +divils in hell.” + +“Throth, but it's worth havin', Nancy: where did you get it?” asked +M'Kinley. + +“Hould your wicked tongue, you thief of a heretic,” said Nancy, +laughing, “when will _you_ larn anything that's good? I got it from one +that wouldn't have it if it _wasn't_ good--Darby M'Murt, the pilgrim, +since you must know.” + +“Whisht!” said Frayne: “upon my word, I blieve the old Square's comin' +to pay tis a visit; does any of yez hear a horse trottin' with a shoe +loose?” + + +“I sartinly hear it,” observed Andy Morrow. + +“And I,” said Ned himself. + +There was now a general pause, and in the silence a horse, proceeding +from the moors in the direction of the house, was distinctly heard; +and nothing could be less problematical than that one of his shoes was +loose. + +“Boys, take care of yourselves,” said Shane Fadh, “if the Square comes, +he won't be a pleasant customer--he was a terrible fellow in his day: +I'll hould goold to silver that he'll have the smell of brimstone about +him.” + +“Nancy, where's your prayer now?” said M'Kinley, with a grin: “I think +you had betther out with it, and thry if it keeps this old brimstone +Square on the wrong side of the house.” + +“Behave yourself, Alick; it's a shame for you to be sich a hardened +crathur: upon my sannies, I blieve your afeard of neither God nor the +divil--the Lord purtect and guard us from the dirty baste!” + +“You mane particklarly them that uses short measures and light weights,” + rejoined M'Kinley. + +There was another pause, for the horseman was within a few perches of +the crossroads. At this moment an unusual gust of wind, accompanied by +torrents of rain, burst against the house with a violence that made +its ribs creak; and the stranger's horse, the shoe still clanking, +was distinctly heard to turn in from the road to Ned's door, where it +stopped, and the next moment a loud knocking intimated the horseman's +intention to enter. The company now looked at each other, as if +uncertain what to do. Nancy herself grew pale, and, in the agitation of +the moment, forgot to think of her protecting prayer. Biddy and Bessy +Connolly started from the settle on which they had been sitting with +their sweethearts, and sprung beside their uncle, on the hob. The +stranger was still knocking with great violence, yet there was no +disposition among the company to admit him, notwithstanding the severity +of the night--blowing, as it really did, a perfect hurricane. At length +a sheet of lightning flashed through the house, followed by an amazing +loud clap of thunder; while, with a sudden push from without, the door +gave way, and in stalked a personage Whose stature was at least six +feet four, with dark eyes and complexion, and coal-black whiskers of an +enormous size, the very image of the Squire they had been describing. He +was dressed in a long black surtout, which him appear even taller than +he actually was, had a pair of heavy boots upon and carried a tremendous +whip, large enough to fell an ox. He was in a rage on entering; and +the heavy, dark, close-knit-brows, from beneath which a pair of eyes, +equally black, shot actual fire, whilst the Turk-like whiskers, which +curled themselves up, as it were, in sympathy with his fury, joined to +his towering height, gave him altogether, when we consider the frame of +mind in which he found the company, an appalling and almost supernatural +appearance. + +“Confound you, for a knot of lazy scoundrels,” exclaimed the stranger, +“why do you sit here so calmly, while any being craves admittance on +such a night as this? Here, you lubber in the corner, with a pipe in +your mouth, come and put up this horse of mine until the night settles.” + +“May the blessed mother purtect us!” exclaimed Nancy, in a whisper, +to Andy Morrow, “if I blieve he's a right thing!--would it be the ould +Square? Did you ever set your eyes upon sich a”-- + +“Will you bestir yourself, you boor, and' not keep my horse and saddle +out under such a torrent?” he cried, “otherwise I must only bring him +into the house, and then you may say for once that you've had the devil +under your roof.” + +“Paddy Smith, you lazy spalpeen,” said Nancy, winking at Ned to +have nothing to do with the horse, “why don't you fly and put up the +gintleman's horse? And you, Atty, avourneen, jist go out with him, and +hould the candle while he's doin' it: be quick now, and I'll give you +glasses a-piece when you come in.” + +“Let them put him up quickly; but I say, you Caliban,” added the +stranger, addressing Smith, “don't be rash about him except you can bear +fire and brimstone; get him, at all events, a good feed of oats. Poor +Satan!” he continued, patting the horse's head, which was now within the +door, “you've had a hard night of it, my poor Satan, as well as myself. +That's my dark spirit--my brave chuck, that fears neither man nor +devil.” + +This language was by no means calculated to allay the suspicions of +those who were present, particularly of Nancy and her two nieces. Ned +sat in astonishment, with the pipe in his hand, which he had, in the +surprise of the moment, taken from his mouth, his eyes fixed upon the +stranger, and his mouth open. The latter noticed him, and stretching +over the heads of the circle, tapped him on the shoulder with his +whip:-- + +“I have a few words to say to you, sir,” he said. + +“To me, your honor!” exclaimed Ned, without stirring, however. + +“Yes,” replied the other, “but you seem to be fastened to your seat: +come this way.” + +“By all manner of manes, sir,” said Ned, starting up, and going over to +the dresser, against which the stranger stood. + +When the latter had got him there, he very coolly walked up, and secured +Ned's comfortable seat on the hob, at the same time observing-- + +“You hadn't the manners to ask me to sit down; but I always make it a +point of conscience to take care of myself, landlord.” + +There was not a man about the fire who did not stand up, as if struck +with a sudden recollection, and offer him a seat. + +“No,” said he, “thank you, my good fellows, I am very well as it is: I +suppose, mistress, you are the landlady,” addressing Nancy; “if you +be, I'll thank you to bring me a gill of your best whiskey,--your best, +mind. Let it be as strong as an evil spirit let loose, and as hot as +fire; for it can't be a jot too ardent such a night as this, for a being +that rides the devil.” + +Nancy started up instinctively, exclaiming, “Indeed, plase your honor's +reverence, I am the landlady, as you say, sir, sure enough; but, the +Lawk save and guard us! won't a gallon of raw whiskey be too much for +one man to drink?” + +“A gallon! I only said a gill, my good hostess; bring me a gill--but I +forget--I believe you have no such measure in this country; bring me a +pint, then.” + +Nancy now went into the bar, whither she gave Ned a wink to follow her; +and truly was glad of an opportunity of escaping from the presence of +the visitor. When there, she ejaculated-- + +“May the holy Mother keep and guard us, Ned, but I'm afeard that's no +Christian crathur, at all at all! Arrah, Ned, aroon, would he be that +ould Square Grame, that Shane Fadh, maybe, angered, by spakin' of him?” + +“Troth,” said Ned, “myself doesn't know what he is; he bates any mortal +I ever seen.” + +“Well, hould agra! I have it: we'll see whether he'll drink this or not, +any how.” + +“Why, what's that you're doin'?” asked Ned. + +“Jist,” replied Nancy, “mixin' the smallest taste in the world of holy +wather with the whiskey, and if he drinks that, you know he can be +nothing that's bad.” * + + * The efficacy of holy water in all Roman Catholic countries, + but especially in Ireland, is supposed to be very great. It + is kept in the house, or, in certain cases, about the + person, as a safeguard against evil spirits, fairies, or + sickness. It is also used to allay storms and quench + conflagrations; and when an Irishman or Irishwoman is about + to go a journey, commence labor or enter upon any other + important undertaking, the person is sure to be sprinkled + with holy water, under the hope that the journey or + undertaking will prosper. + +Nancy, however, did not perceive that the trepidation of her hand +was such as to incapacitate her from making nice distinctions in the +admixture. She now brought the spirits to the stranger, who no sooner +took a mouthful of it, than he immediately stopped it on its passage, +and fixing his eyes earnestly on herself, squirted it into the fire, and +the next moment the whiskey was in a blaze that seemed likely to set the +chimney in flames. + +“Why, my honest hostess,” he exclaimed, “do you give this to me for +whiskey? Confound me, but two-thirds of it is water; and I have no +notion to pay for water when I want spirits: have the goodness to +exchange this, and get me some better stuff, if you have it.” + +He again put the jug to his mouth, and having taken a little, swallowed +it:--“Why, I tell you, woman, you must have made some mistake; one-half +of it is water.” + +Now, Nancy, from the moment he refused to swallow the liquor, had been +lock-jawed; the fact was, she thought that the devil himself, or old +Squire Graham, had got under her roof; and she stood behind Ned, who +was nearly as terrified as herself, with her hands raised, her tongue +clinging to the roof of her mouth, and the perspiration falling from her +pale face in large drops. But as soon as she saw him swallow a portion +of that liquid, which she deemed beyond the deglutition of ghost +or devil, she instantly revived--her tongue resumed its accustomed +office--her courage, as well as her good-humor, returned, and she went +up to him with great confidence, saying, + +“Why, then, your Reverence's honor, maybe I did make a bit of a mistake, +sir”--taking up the jug, and tasting its contents: “Hut! bad scran to +me, but I did, beggin' your honor's pardon; how-an-diver, I'll soon +rightify that, your Reverence.” + +So saying, she went and brought him a pint of the stoutest the house +afforded. The stranger drank a glass of it, and then ordered hot water +and sugar, adding-- + +“My honest friends here about the fire will have no objection to help me +with this; but, on second consideration, you had better get us another +quart, that as the night is cold, we may have a jorum at this pleasant +fire, that will do our hearts good; and this pretty girl here,” + addressing Biddy, who really deserved the epithet, “will sit beside me, +and give us a song.” + +It was surprising what an effect the punch even in perspective, had upon +the visual organs of the company; second-sight was rather its precursor +than its attendant; for, with intuitive penetration, they now discovered +various good qualities in his ghost-ship, that had hitherto been beyond +their ken; and those very personal properties, which before struck them +dumb with terror, already called forth their applause. + +“What a fine man he is!” one would whisper, loud enough, however, to be +heard by the object of his panegyric. + +“He is, indeed, and a rale gintleman,” another would respond in the same +key. + +“Hut! he's none of your proud, stingy upsthart bodagahs*--none of your +beggarly half-sirs*,” a third would remark: “he's the dacent thing +entirely--you see he hasn't his heart in a thrifle.” + + * A person vulgar, but rich, without any pretensions but + those of wealth to the character of a gentleman; a churl. + Half-sir; the same as above. + +“And so sign's on him,” a fourth would add, with comic gravity, “he +wasn't bred to shabbiness, as you may know by his fine behavior and his +big whiskers.” + +When the punch was made, and the kitchen-table placed endwise towards +the fire, the stranger, finding himself very comfortable, inquired if he +could be accommodated with a bed and supper, to which Nancy replied in +the affirmative. + +“Then, in that case,” said he, “I will be your guest for the night.” + +Shane Fadh now took courage to repeat the story of old Squire Graham and +his horse with the loose shoe; informing the stranger, at the same time, +of the singular likeness which he bore to the subject of the story, both +in face and size, and dwelling upon the remarkable coincidence in the +time and manner of his approach. + +“Tut, man!” said the stranger, “a far more extraordinary adventure +happened to one of my father's tenants, which, if none of you have any +objection, I will relate.” + +There was a buzz of approbation at this; and they all thanked his +honor, expressing the strongest desire to hear his story. He was just +proceeding to gratify them, when another rap came to the door, and, +before any of the inmates had time to open it, Father Ned Deleery and +his curate made their appearance, having been on their way home from a +conference held in the town of ----, eighteen miles from the scene of +our present story. + +It may be right here to inform the reader, that about two hundred yards +from Ned's home stood a place of Roman Catholic worship, called “the +Forth,” * from the resemblance it bore to the _Forts_ or _Baths_, so +common in Ireland. It was a small green, perfectly circular, and about +twenty yards in diameter. Around it grew a row of old overspreading +hawthorns, whose branches formed a canopy that almost shaded it from sun +and storm. Its area was encompassed by tiers of seats, one raised above +another, and covered with the flowery grass. On these the congregation +used to sit--the young men chatting or ogling their sweethearts on the +opposite side; the old ones in little groups, discussing the politics of +the day, as retailed by Mick M'Caffry.** the politician; while, up near +the altar, hemmed in by a ring of old men and women, you might perceive +a _voteen_, repeating some new prayer or choice piece of devotion--or +some other, in a similar circle, perusing, in a loud voice. Dr. +Gallagher's Irish Sermons, Pastorini's History of the Christian Church, +or Columbkill's Prophecy--and, perhaps, a strolling pilgrim, the centre +of a third collection, singing the _Dies irae_, in Latin, or the Hermit +of Killarney, in English. + + * This very beautiful but simple place of worship does not + now exist. On its site is now erected a Roman Catholic + chapel. + + ** Mick was also a schoolmaster, and the most celebrated + village politician of his day. Every Sunday found him + engaged as in the text. + +At the extremity of this little circle was a plain altar of wood, +covered with a little thatched shed, under which the priest celebrated +mass; but before the performance of this ceremony, a large multitude +usually assembled opposite Ned's shop-door, at the cross-roads. This +crowd consisted of such as wanted to buy tobacco, candles, soap, potash, +and such other groceries as the peasantry remote from market-towns +require. After mass, the public-house was filled to the door-posts, with +those who wished to get a sample of Nancy's _Iska-behagh_* and many +a time has little Father Ned himself, of a frosty day, after having +performed mass with a celerity highly agreeable to his auditory, come in +to Nancy, nearly frost-bitten, to get his breakfast, and a toothful of +mountain dew to drive the cold out of his stomach. + + _Usquebaugh_--literally, “water of life.” + +The fact is, that Father Deleery made himself quite at home at Ned's +without any reference to Nancy's saving habits; the consequence was, +that her welcome to him was extremely sincere--“from the teeth out.” + Father Ned saw perfectly through her assumed heartiness of manner, but +acted as if the contrary was the case; Nancy understood him also, and +with an intention of making up by complaisance for their niggardliness +in other respects, was a perfect honeycomb. This state of +cross-purposes, however, could not last long; neither did it. Father Ned +never paid, and Nancy never gave credit; so, at length, they came to an +open rupture; she threatened to process him for what he owed her, and +he, in return, threatened to remove the congregation from “The Forth” + to Ballymagowan bridge, where he intended to set up his nephew in the +“public line,” to the ruin of Nancy's flourishing establishment. + +“Father Ned,” said Nancy, “I'm a hardworking, honest woman, and I don't +see why my substance is to be wasted by your Reverence when you won't +pay for it.” + +“And do you forget,” Father Ned would reply, “that it's me that +brings you your custom? Don't you know that if I remove my flock to +Ballymagowan, you'll soon sing to another tune? so lay that to your +heart.” + +“Troth, I know that whatever I get I'm obliged to pay for it; and I +think every man should do the same, Father Ned. You must get a hank of +yarn from me, and a bushel or two of oats from Ned, and your riglar dues +along with all; but, avourneen, it's yourself that won't pay a penny +when you can help it.” + +“Salvation to me, but you'd skin a flint!” + +“Well, if I would, I pay my debts first.” + +“You do?” + +“Yes, troth, do I.” + +“Why then that's more than you'll be able to do long, plase the fates.” + +“If all my customers wor like your Reverence, it is.” + +“I'll tell you what it is, Nancy, I often threatened to take the +congregation from 'The Forth,' and I'll do it--if I don't, may I never +sup sorrow!” + +Big with such a threat, Father Ned retired. The apprehensions of Nancy +on this point, however, were more serious than she was willing to +acknowledge. This dispute took place a few days before the night in +question. + +Father Ned was a little man, with a red face, slender legs, and +flat feet; he was usually cased in a pair of ribbed minister's grey +small-clothes, with leggings of the same material. His coat, which was +much too short, rather resembled a jerkin, and gave him altogether an +appearance very much at variance with an idea of personal gravity or +reverence. Over this dress he wore in winter, a dark great-coat, with +high collar, that buttoned across his face, showing only the point, of +his red nose; so that, when riding or walking, his hat rested more upon +the collar of his coat than upon his head. + +The curate was a tall, raw-boned young man, with high jutting +cheek-bones, low forehead, and close knees; to his shoulders, which were +very high, hung a pair of long bony arms, whose motions seemed rather +the effect of machinery than volition. His hair, which was a bad black, +was cropped close, and trimmed across his eye-brows, like that of a +Methodist preacher; the small-clothes he wore were of the same web which +had produced Father Ned's, and his body-coat was a dark blue, with black +buttons. Each wore a pair of gray woollen mittens. + +“There, Pether,” said Father Ned, as he entered, “hook my bridle along +with your own, as your hand is in--God save all here! Paddy Smith, +ma bouchal, put these horses in the stable, till we dry ourselves a +bit--Father Pether and I.” + +“Musha, but you're both welcome,” said Nancy, wishing to wipe out the +effects of the last tift with Father Ned, by the assistance of the +stranger's punch; “will ye bounce, ye spalpeens, and let them to the +fire? Father Ned, you're dhreepin' with the rain; and, Father Pether, +avourneen, you're wet to the skin, too.” + +“Troth, and he is, Nancy, and a little bit farther, if you knew but all. +Mr. Morrow, how do you do, sir?--And--eh?--Who's this we've got in the +corner? A gintleman, boys, if cloth can make one! Mr. Morrow, introduce +me.” + +“Indeed, Father Ned, I hav'nt the pleasure of knowing the gintleman +myself.” + +“Well, no matter--come up, Pether. Sir, I have the honor of introducing +you to my curate and coadjutor, the Reverend Pether M'Clatchaghan, and +to myself, his excellent friend, but spiritual superior, the Reverend +Edward Deleery, Roman Catholic Rector of this highly respectable and +extensive parish; and I have further the pleasure,” he continued, taking +up Andy Morrow's Punch, “of drinking your very good health, sir.” + +“And I have the honor,” returned the stranger, rising up, and diving +his head among the flitches of bacon that hung in the chimney, “of +introducing you and the Rev. Mr. M'--M'--M'----” + +“Clatchagan, sir,” subjoined Father Ned. + +“Peter M'Illclatchagan, to Mr. Longinus Polysyllabus Alexandrinus.” + +“By my word, sir, but it's a good and appropriate name, sure enough,” + said Father Ned, surveying his enormous length; “success to me but +you're an Alexandrine from head to foot--non solum Longinus, sed +Alexandrinus.” + +“You're wrong, sir, in the Latin,” said Father Peter. + +“Prove it, Peter--prove it.” + +“It should be non tantum, sir.” + +“By what rule Pether?” + +“Why, sir, there's a phrase in Corderius's Colloquies that I could +condimn you from, if I had the book.” + +“Pether, you think you're a scholar, and, to do you justice, you're cute +enough sometimes; but, Pether, you didn't travel for it, as I did--nor +were you obliged to lep out of a college windy in Paris, at the time of +the French Revolution, for your larning, as I was: not you, man, you ate +the king's mutton comfortably at home in Maynooth, instead of travelling +like your betters.” + +“I appale to this gintleman,” said Father Peter turning to the stranger. +“Are you a classical scholar, sir--that is, do you understand Latin?” + +“What kind?” demanded the stranger dryly. + +“If you have read Corderius's Colloquies, it will do,” said Father +Peter. + +“No, sir,” replied the other, “but I have read his commentator, +_Bardolphus_, who wrote a treatise upon the _Nasus Rubricundus_ of the +ancients.” + +“Well, sir, if you did, it's probable that you may be able to understand +our dispute, so”-- + +“Peter, I'm afeard you've got into the wrong box; for I say he's no +chicken that's read _Nasus Rubricundus_, I can tell you that; I had my +own trouble with it: but, at any rate, will you take your punch, man +alive, and don't bother us with your Latin?” + +“I beg your pardon, Father Ned: I insist that. I'm right; and I'll +convince you that you're wrong, if God spares me to see Corderius +to-morrow.” + +“Very well then, Pether, if you're to decide it to-morrow, let us have +no more of it tonight.” + +During this conversation between the two reverend worthies, the group +around the fire were utterly astonished at the erudition displayed in +this learned dispute. + +“Well, to be sure, larnin's a great thing, entirely,” said M'Roarkin, +aside, to Shane Fadh. + +“Ah, Tom, there's nothing like it: well, any way, it's wonderful what +they know!” + +“Indeed it is, Shane--and in so short a time, too! Sure, it's not more +nor five or six years since Father Pether there used to be digging +praties on the one ridge with myself--by the same token, an excellent +spadesman he was--and now he knows more nor all the Protestant parsons +in the Diocy.” + +“Why, how could they know any thing, when they don't belong to the thrue +church?” said Shane. + +“Thrue for you, Shane,” replied M'Roaran; “I disremimbered that +clincher.” + +This discourse ran parallel with the dispute between the two priests, +but in so low a tone as not to reach the ears of the classical +champions, who would have ill-brooked this eulogium upon Father Peter's +agricultural talent. + +“Don't bother us, Pether, with your arguing to-night,” said Father +Ned, “it's enough for you to be seven days in the week at your +disputations.--Sir, I drink to our better acquaintance.” + +“With all my heart, sir,” replied the stranger. + +“Father Ned,” said Nancy, “the gintleman was going to tell us a sthrange +story, sir, and maybe your Reverence would wish to hear it, docthor?” + +“Certainly, Nancy, we'll be very happy to hear any story the gintleman +may plase to tell us; but, Nancy, achora, before he begins, what if +you'd just fry a slice or two of that glorious flitch, hanging over his +head, in the corner?--that, and about six eggs, Nancy, and you'll have +the priest's blessing, gratis.” + +“Why, Father Ned, it's too fresh, entirely--sure it's not a week hanging +yet. + +“Sorra matter, Nancy dheelish, we'll take with all that--just try your +hand at a slice of it. I rode eighteen miles since I dined, and I feel a +craving, Nancy, a _whacuum_ in my stomach, that's rather troublesome.” + +“To be sure, Father Ned, you must get a slice, with all the veins in my +heart; but I thought maybe you wouldn't like it so fresh: but what on +earth will we do for eggs? for there's not an egg under the roof with +me.” + +“Biddy, a hagur,” said Father Ned, “just slip out to Molshy Johnson, +and tell her to send me six eggs for a rasher, by the same token that +I heard two or three hens cackling in the byre, as I was going to +conference this morning.” + +“Well, Docthor,” said Pat Frayne, when Biddy had been gone some time, on +which embassy she delayed longer than the priest's judgment, influenced +by the cravings of his stomach, calculated to be necessary,--“Well, +Docthor, I often pity you, for fasting so long; I'm sure, I dunna how +you can stand it, at all, at all.” + +“Troth, and you may well wonder, Pat; but we have that to support us, +that you, or any one like you, know nothing about--inward support, +Pat--inward support.” + +“Only for that, Father Ned,” said Shane Fadh, “I suppose you could never +get through with it.” + +“Very right, Shane--very right: only for it, we never could do.--What +the dickens is keeping this girl with the eggs?--why she might be at Mr. +Morrow's, here, since. By the way, Mr. Morrow,” he continued, laughing, +“you must come over to our church: you're a good neighbor, and a worthy +fellow, and it's a thousand pities you should be sent down.” + +“Why, Docthor,” said Andy, “do you really believe I'll go downwards?” + +“Ah, Mr. Morrow, don't ask me that question--out of the pale, you +know--out of the pale.” + +“Then you think, sir, there's no chance for me, at all?” said Andy, +smiling. + +“Not the laste, Andy, you must go this way,” said Father Ned, striking +the floor with the butt end of his whip, and winking--“to the lower +raigons; and, upon my knowledge, to tell you the truth, I'm sorry for +it, for you're a worthy fellow.” + +“Ah, Docthor,” said Ned, “it's a great thing entirely to be born of the +true church--one's always sure, then.” + +“Ay, ay; you may say that, Ned,” returned the priest, “come or go what +will, a man's always safe at the long run, except he dies without his +clargy.--Shane, hand me the jug, if you please.--Where did you get this +stuff, Nancy?--faith, it's excellent.” + +“You forget, Father Ned, that that's a secret.----But here's Biddy with +the eggs, and now you'll have your rasher in no time.” + +When the two clergymen had discussed the rashers and eggs, and while the +happy group were making themselves intimately acquainted with a fresh +jug of punch, as it circulated round the table-- + +“Now, sir,” said Father Ned to the stranger, “we'll hear your story with +the greatest satisfaction possible; but I think you might charge your +tumbler before you set to it.” + +When the stranger had complied with this last hint, “Well, gentlemen,” + said he, “as I am rather fatigued, will you excuse me for the position +I am about to occupy, which is simply to stretch myself along the hob +here, with my head upon the straw hassoch? and if you have no objection +to that, I will relate the story.” + +To this, of course, a general assent was given. When he was stretched +completely at his ease-- + +“Well, upon my veracity,” observed Father Peter, “the gentleman's +supernaturally long.” + +“Yes, Pether,” replied Father Ned, “but observe his +position--_Polysyllaba cuncta supina_, as Psorody says.--Arrah, +salvation to me but you're a dull man, afther all!--but we're +interrupting the gentleman. Sir, go on, if you please, with your story.” + +“Give me a few minutes,” said he, “until I recollect the particulars.” + +He accordingly continued quiescent for two or three minutes more, +apparently arranging the materials of his intended narration, and then +commenced to gratify the eager expectations of his auditory, by emitting +those nasal enunciations which are the usual accompaniments of sleep! + +“Why, bad luck to the morsel of 'im but's asleep,” said Ned; “Lord +pardon me for swearin' in your Reverence's presence.” + +“That's certainly the language of a sleeping man,” replied Father Ned, +“but there might have been a little more respect than all that snoring +comes to. Your health, boys.” + +The stranger had now wound up his nasal organ to a high pitch, after +which he commenced again with somewhat of a lower and finer tone. + +“He's beginning a new paragraph,” observed Father Peter with a smile at +the joke. + +“Not at all,” said Father Ned, “he's turning the tune; don't you +perceive that he's snoring 'God save the King,' in the key of _bass +relievo?_” + +“I'm no judge of instrumental music, as you are,” said the curate, “but +I think it's liker the 'Dead March of Saul,' than 'God save the King;' +however, if you be right, the gentleman certainly snores in a truly +loyal strain.” + +“That,” said little M'Roarkin, “is liker the Swine's melody, or the +Bedfordshire hornpipe--he--he--he!” + +“The poor gintleman's tired,” observed Nancy, “afther a hard day's +thravelling.” + +“I dare say he is,” said Father Ned, in the sincere hospitality of his +country; “at all events, take care of him, Nancy, he's a stranger, +and get the best supper you can for him--he appears to be a truly +respectable and well-bred man.” + +“I think,” said M'Kinley, with a comical grin, “you might know that by +his high-flown manner of sleeping--he snores very politely, and like a +gentleman, all out.” + +“Well done, Alick,” said the priest, laughing; “go home, boys, it's near +bed-time; Paddy, ma bouchal, are the horses ready?” + +“They'll be at the door in a jiffy, your Reverence,” said Paddy going +out. + +In the course of a few minutes, he returned, exclaiming, “Why, thin, is +it thinkin' to venthur out sich a night as it's comin' on yer Reverences +would be? and it plashin' as if it came out of methers! Sure the life +would be dhrownded out of both of ye, and yees might colch a faver into +the bargain.” + +“Sit down, gintlemen,” said Ned; “sit down, Father Ned, you and Father +Pether--we'll have another tumbler; and, as it's my turn to tell a +story, I'll give yez something, amuse yez,--the best I can, and, you all +know, who can do more?” + +“Very right, Ned; but let us see”--replied father Ned, putting his head +out of the door to ascertain what the night did; “come, pether, it's +good to be on the safe side of any house in such a storm; we must only +content ourselves until it gets fair. Now, Ned, go on with your story, +and let it be as pleasant as possible.” + +“Never fear, your Reverence,” replied Ned--“here goes--and healths +a-piece to begin with.” + + + + +THE THREE TASKS. + + +“Every person in the parish knows the purty knoll that rises above the +Routing Burn, some few miles from the renowned town of Knockimdowny, +which, as all the world must allow, wants only houses and inhabitants +to be as big a place as the great town of Dublin itself. At the foot of +this little hill, just under the shelter of a dacent pebble of a rock, +something above the bulk of half a dozen churches, one would be apt to +see--if they knew how to look sharp, otherwise they mightn't be able to +make it out from the gray rock above it, except by the smoke that ris +from the chimbley--Nancy Magennis's little cabin, snug and cosey with +its corrag* or ould man of branches, standing on the windy side of the +door, to keep away the blast. Upon my word, it was a dacent little +residence in its own way, and so was Nancy herself, for that matther; +for, though a poor widdy, she was very _punctwell_ in paying for Jack's +schooling, as I often heard ould Terry M'Phaudeen say, who told me the +story. Jack, indeed, grew up a fine slip; and for hurling, foot-ball +playing, and lepping, hadn't his likes in the five quarters of the +parish. It's he that knew how to handle a spade and a raping-hook, and +what was betther nor all that, he was kind and tindher to his poor ould +mother, and would let her want for nothing. Before he'd go to his day's +work in the morning, he'd be sure to bring home from the clear-spring +well that ran out of the other side of the rock, a pitcher of water to +serve her for the day; nor would he forget to bring in a good creel +of turf from the snug little peat-sack that stood thatched with rushes +before the door, and leave it in the corner, beside the fire; so that +she had nothing to do but put over her hand, without rising off of her +sate, and put down a sod when she wanted it. + + *The _Corrag_ is a roll of branches tied together when green + and used for the purposes mentioned the story. It is six + feet high, and much thicker than a sack, and is changed to + either side of the door according to the direction from + which the wind blows. + +“Nancy, on her part, kept Jack very clane and comfortable; his linen, +though coorse, was always a good color, his working clothes tidily +mended at all times; and when he'd have occasion to put on his good coat +to work in for the first time, Nancy would sew on the fore-part of each +sleeve a stout patch of ould cloth, to keep them from being worn by the +spade; so that when she'd rip these off them every Saturday night, they +would look as new and fresh as if he hadn't been working in them at all, +at all. + +“Then when Jack came home in the winter nights, it would do your heart +good to see Nancy sitting at her wheel, singing, '_Stachan Varagah_,' +or '_Peggy Na Laveen_,' beside a purty clear fire, with a small pot of +_murphys_ boiling on it for their supper, or laid up in a wooden +dish, comfortably covered with a clane praskeen on the well-swept +hearth-stone; whilst the quiet, dancing blaze might be seen blinking in +the nice earthen plates and dishes that stood over against the side-wall +of the house. Just before the fire you might see Jack's stool waiting +for him to come home; and on the other side, the brown cat washing her +face with her paws, or sitting beside the dog that lay asleep, quite +happy and continted, purring her song, and now and then looking over at +Nancy, with her eyes half-shut, as much as to say, 'Catch a happier pair +nor we are, Nancy, if you can.' + +“Sitting quietly on the roost above the door, were Dicky the cock, and +half-a-dozen hens, that kept this honest pair in eggs and _egg-milk_ for +the best part of the year, besides enabling Nancy to sell two or three +clutches of March-birds every season, to help to buy wool for Jack's +big-coat, and her own gray-beard gown and striped red and blue +petticoat. + +“To make a long story short--No two could be more comfortable, +considering every thing. But, indeed, Jack was always obsarved to have +a dacent ginteel turn with him; for he'd scorn to see a bad gown on his +mother, or a broken Sunday coat on himself; and instead of drinking his +little earning in a shebeen-house, and then eating his praties dry, he'd +take care to have something to kitchen* them; so that he was not only +snug and dacent of a Sunday, regarding wearables, but so well-fed and +rosy, that a point of a rush would take a drop of blood out of his +cheek.** Then he was the comeliest and best-looking young man in the +parish, could tell lots of droll stories, and sing scores of merry songs +that would make you split your sides with downright laughing; and when +a wake or a dance would happen to be in the neighborhood, maybe there +wouldn't be many a sly look from the purty girls for pleasant Jack +Magennis! + + * The straits to which the poor Irish are put for what is + termed kitchen--that is some liquid that enables them to + dilute and swallow the dry potato--are grievous to think of. + An Irishman in his miserable cabin will often feel glad to + have salt and water in which to dip it, but that alluded to + in the text is absolute comfort. Egg milk is made as + follows:--A measure of water is put down suited to the + number of the family; the poor woman then takes the proper + number of eggs, which she beats up, and, when the water is + boiling, pours it in, stirring it well for a couple of + minutes. It is then made, and handed round in wooden + noggins, every one salting for themselves. In color it + resembles milk, which accounts for its name. + + Our readers must have heard of the old and well known luxury + of “potatoes and point,” which, humorous as it is, scarcely + falls short of the truth. An Irish family, of the cabin + class, hangs up in the chimney a herring, or “small taste” of + bacon, and as the national imagination is said to be strong, + each individual points the potato he is going to eat at it, + upon the principle, I suppose, of _crede et habes_. It is + generally said that the act communicates the flavor of the + herring or bacon, as the case may be, to the potato; and + this is called “potatoes and point.” + + ** This proverb, which is always used as above, but without + being confined in its application, to only one sex, is a + general one in Ireland. In delicacy and beauty I think it + inimitable. + +“In this way lived Jack and his mother, as happy and continted as two +lords; except now and thin, that Jack would feel a little consarn for +not being able to lay past anything for the _sorefoot_,* or that might +enable him to think of marrying--for he was beginning to look about him +for a wife; and why not, to be sure? But he was prudent for all that, +and didn't wish to bring a wife and small family into poverty and +hardship without means to support them, as too many do. + + * Accidents--future calamity--or old age. + +“It was one fine, frosty, moonlight night--the sky was without a cloud, +and the stars all blinking that it would delight anybody's heart to look +at them, when Jack was crassing a bog that lay a few fields beyant his +own cabin. He was just crooning the '_Humors of Glynn_' to himself and +thinking that it was a very hard case that he couldn't save anything at +all, at all, to help him to the wife, when, on coming down a bank in the +middle of the bog, he saw a dark-looking man leaning against a clamp of +turf, and a black dog, with a pipe of tobacky in his mouth, sitting at +his ase beside him, and he smoking as sober as a judge. Jack, however, +had a stout heart, bekase his conscience was clear, and, barring being +a little daunted, he wasn't very much afeard. 'Who is this coming down +towards us?' said the black-favored man, as he saw Jack approaching +them. 'It's Jack Magennis,' says the dog, making answer, and taking the +pipe out of his mouth with his right paw; and after puffing away the +smoke, and rubbing the end of it against his left leg, exactly as a +Christian (this day's Friday, the Lord stand betune us and harm) would +do against his sleeve, giving it at the same time to his comrade--'It's +Jack Magennis,' says the dog, 'honest Widow Magennis's dacent son.' 'The +very man,' says the other, back to him, 'that I'd wish to sarve out of a +thousand. Arrah, Jack Magennis, how is every tether-length of you?' says +the old fellow, putting the _furrawn_* on him--'and how is every bone +in your body, Jack, my darling? I'll hould a thousand guineas,' says he, +pointing to a great big bag that lay beside him, 'and that's only the +tenth part of what's in this bag, Jack, that you're just going to be in +luck to-night above all the nights in the year.' + + * That frank, cordial manner of address which brings + strangers suddenly to intimacy. + +“'And may worse never happen you, Jack, my bouchal,' says the dog, +putting in his tongue, then wagging his tail, and houlding out his paw +to shake hands with Jack. + +“'Gintlemen,' says Jack, never minding to give the dog his hand, bekase +he heard it wasn't safe to touch the likes of him--'Gintlemen,' says he, +'ye're sitting far from the fire this frosty night.' + +“'Why, that's true, Jack,' answers the ould fellow; 'but if we're +sitting far from the fire, we're sitting very near the makins of it, man +alive.' So, with this, he pulls the bag of goold over to him, that Jack +might know, by the jingle of the shiners, what was in it. + +“'Jack,' says dark-face, 'there's some born with a silver ladle in their +mouth, and others with a wooden spoon; and if you'll just sit down on +the one end of this clamp with me, and take a hand at the five and ten,' +pulling out, as he spoke, a deck of cards, 'you may be a made man for +the remainder of your life.' + +“'Sir,' says Jack, 'with submission, both yourself and this cur--I +mane,' says he, not wishing to give the dog offence, 'both yourself +and this dacint gintleman with the tail and claws upon him, have +the advantage of me, in respect of knowing my name; for, if I don't +mistake,' says he, putting his hand to his caubeen, 'I never had the +pleasure of seeing either of ye before.' + +“'Never mind that,' says the dog, taking back the pipe from the other, +and clapping it in his mouth; 'we're both your well-wishers, anyhow, and +it's now your own fault if you're not a rich man.' + +“Jack, by this time, was beginning to think that they might be afther +wishing to throw luck in his way; for he had often heard of men being +made up entirely by the fairies, till there was no end to their wealth. + +“'Jack,' says the black man, 'you had better be led by us for this +bout--upon the honor of a gintleman we wish you well: however, if you +don't choose to take the ball at the right hop, another may; and you're +welcome to toil all your life, and die a beggar after.' + +“'Upon my reputation, what he says is true, Jack,' says the dog, in his +turn, 'the lucky minute of your life is come: let it pass without doing +what them that wishes your mother's son well desire you, and you'll die +in a ditch.' + +“'And what am I to do,' says Jack, 'that's to make me so rich all of a +sudden?' + +“'Why only to sit down, and take a game of cards with myself says +black-brow, 'that's all, and I'm sure its not much.' + +“'And what is it to be for?' Jack inquires; 'for I have no +money--tare-nation to the rap itself's in my company.' + +“'Well, you have yourself,' says the dog, putting up his fore-claw +along his nose, and winking at Jack; 'you have yourself, man--don't be +faint-hearted: he'll bet the contents of this bag;' and with that the +ould thief gave it another great big shake, to make the guineas jingle +again. 'It's ten thousand guineas in hard goold; if he wins, you're +to sarve him for a year and a day; and if he loses, you're to have the +bag.' + +“'And the money that's in it?' says Jack, wishing, you see, to make a +sure bargain, anyhow. + +“'Ev'ry penny,' answered the ould chap, 'if you win it;' and there's +fifty to one in your favor.' + +“By this time the dog had gone into a great fit of laughing at Jack's +sharpness about the money. 'The money that's in it, Jack!' says he; and +he took the pipe out of his mouth, and laughed till he brought on a +hard fit of coughing. 'O, by this and by that says he, 'but that bates +Bannagher! And you're to get ev'ry penny, you thief o' the world, if +you win it!' but for all that he seemed to be laughing at something that +Jack wasn't up to. + +“At any rate, surely, they palavered Jack betune them until he sot down +and consinted. 'Well,' says he, scratching his head, 'why, worse nor +lose I can't, so here goes for one trial at the shiners, any how!' + +“'Now,' says the obscure gintleman, just whin the first card was in his +hand, ready to be laid down, 'you're to sarve me for a year and a day, +if I win; and if I lose, you shall have all the money in the bag.' + +“'Exactly,' said Jack, and, just as he said the word, he saw the dog +putting the pipe in his pocket, and turning his head away, for fraid +Jack would see him breaking his sides laughing. At last, when he got his +face sobered, he looks at Jack, and says, 'Surely, Jack, if you win, +you must get all the money in the bag; and, upon my reputation, you may +build castles in the air with it, you'll be so rich.' + +“This plucked up Jack's courage a little, and to work they went; and +how could it end otherwise than Jack to lose betune two such knowing +schamers as they soon turned out to be? For, what do you think? but, +as Jack was beginning the game, the dog tips him a wink--laying his +fore-claw along his nose as before, as much as to say, 'Watch me, and +you'll win'--turning round, at the same time, and showing Jack a nate +little looking-glass, that was set in his oxther, in which Jack saw, +dark as it was, the spots of all the other fellow's cards, as he +thought, so that he was cock-sure of bating him. But they were a pair of +downright knaves any how; for Jack, by playing to the cards that he saw +in the looking-glass, instead of to them the other held in his hand, +lost the game and the money. In short, he saw that he was blarnied and +chated by them both; and when the game was up, he plainly tould them as +much. + +“'What?--you scoundrel!' says the black fellow, starting up and catching +him by the collar; 'dare you go for to impache my honor?' + +“'Leather him, if he says a word,' says the dog, running over on his +hind-legs, and laying his shut paw upon Jack's nose. 'Say another word, +you rascal!' says he, 'and I'll down you;' with this, the ould fellow +gives him another shake. + +“'I don't blame you so much,' says Jack to him; 'it was the +looking-glass that desaved me. That cur's nothing but a black leg!' + +“'What looking-glass?--you knave you!' says dark-face, giving him a +fresh haul. + +“'Why, the one I saw under the dog's oxther,' replied Jack. + +“'Under my oxther, you swindling rascal!' replied the dog, giving him +a pull by the other side of the collar; 'did ever any honest pair +of gintlemen hear the like?--but he only wants to break through the +agreement: so let us turn him at once into an ass, and then he'll break +no more bargains, nor strive to take in honest men and win their money. +Me a black-leg!' So the dark fellow drew his two hands over Jack's jaws, +and in a twinkling there was a pair of ass's ears growing up out of his +head. When Jack found this, he knew that he wasn't in good hands: so he +thought it best to get himself as well out of the scrape as possible. + +“'Gintlemen, be aisy,' says he, 'and let us understand one another: I'm +very willing to sarve you for a year and a day; but I've one requist +to ax, and it's this: I've a helpless ould mother at home,--and if I +go with you now, she'll break her heart with grief first, and starve +afterwards. Now, if your honor will give me a year to work hard, and lay +in provision to support her while I'm away, I'll serve you with all the +veins of my heart--for a bargain's a bargain.' + +“With this, the dog gave his companion a pluck by the skirt, and, after +some chat together that Jack didn't hear, they came back and said +that they would comply with his wishes that far: 'So, on to-morrow +twelvemonth, Jack,' says the dark fellow, 'the dog here will come to +your mother's, and if you follow him he'll bring you safe to my castle.' + +“'Very well, your honor,' says Jack; 'but as dogs resemble one another +so much, how will I know him when he comes?' + +“'Why,' answers the other, 'he'll have a green ribbon and a spy-glass +about his neck, and a pair of Wellington boots on his hind legs.' + +“'That's enough, sir,' says Jack, 'I can't mistake him in that dress, so +I'll be ready; but, jintlemen, if it would be plasing to you both I'd +every bit as soon not go home with these,' and he handled the brave pair +of ears he had got, as he spoke. 'The truth is, jintlemen, I'm deluding +enough without them; and as I'm so modest, you persave, why if you'd +take them away, you'd oblige me!' + +“To this they had no objection, and during that year Jack wrought night +and day, that he might be able to lave as much provision with his poor +mother as would support her in his absence; and when the morning came +that he was to bid her farewell, he went down on his two knees and got +her blessing. He then left her with tears in his eyes, and promised to +come back the very minute his time would be up. 'Mother,' says he, 'be +kind to your little family here, and feed them well, as they are all +you'll have to keep you company till you see me again.' + +“His mother then stuffed his pockets with bread, till they stuck out +behind him, and gave him a crooked six-pence for luck; after which, he +got his staff, and was just ready to tramp, when, sure enough, he spies +his ould friend the dog, with the green ribbon about his neck, and the +Wellington boots upon his hind legs. He didn't go in, but waited on the +outside till Jack came out. They then set off, but no one knows how +far they travelled, till they reached the dark gintleman's castle, who +appeared very glad to see Jack, and gave him a hearty welcome. + +“The next day, in consequence of his long journey, he was ax'd to do +nothing; but in the coorse of the evening, the dark chap brought +him into a long, frightful room, where there were three hundred and +sixty-five hooks sticking out of the wall, and on every hook but one +a man's head. When Jack saw this agreeable sight, his dinner began +to quake within him; but he felt himself still worse, when his master +pointed to the empty hook, saying, 'Now, Jack, your business to-morrow +is to clane out a stable that wasn't claned for the last seven years, +and if you don't have it finished before dusk--do you see that hook?' + +“'Ye--yes,' replied Jack, hardly able to spake. + +“'Well, if you don't have it finished before dusk, your head will be +hanging on that hook as soon as the sun sets.' + +“'Very well, your honor,' replied Jack; scarcely knowing what he said, +or he wouldn't have said 'very well' to such a bloody-minded intention, +any how---'Very well,' says he, 'I'll do my best, and all the world +knows that the best can do no more.' + +“Whilst this discoorse was passing betune them, Jack happened to look +at the upper end of the room, and there he saw one of the beautifullest +faces that ever was seen on a woman, looking at him through a little +panel that was in the wall. She had a white, snowy forehead--such +eyes, and cheeks, and teeth, that there's no coming up to them; and the +clusters of dark hair that hung about her beautiful temples!--by the +laws, I'm afeard of falling in love with her myself, so I'll say no more +about her, only that she would charm the heart of a wheel-barrow. At any +rate, in spite of all the ould fellow could say--heads and hooks, and +all, Jack couldn't help throwing an eye, now and then, to the panel; and +to tell the truth, if he had been born to riches and honor, it would be +hard to fellow him, for a good face and a good figure. + +“'Now, Jack,' says his master, 'go and eat your supper, and I hope +you'll be able to perform your task--if not, off goes your head.' + +“'Very well, your honor,' says Jack, again scratching it in the hoith of +perplexity, 'I must only do what I can.' + +“The next morning Jack was up with the sun, if not before him, and hard +at his task; but before breakfast time he lost all heart, and little +wonder he should, poor fellow, bekase for every one shovelful he'd throw +out, there would come three more in: so that instead of making his +task less, according as he got on, it became greater. He was now in the +greatest dilemmy, and didn't know how to manage, so he was driven at +last to such an amplush, that he had no other shift for employment, +only to sing _Paddeen O'Rafferty_ out of mere vexation, and dance the +hornpipe trebling step to it, cracking his fingers, half mad, through +the stable. Just in the middle of this tantrum, who comes to the door to +call him to his breakfast, but the beautiful crathur he saw the evening +before peeping at him through the panel. At this minute, Jack had so +hated himself by the dancing, that his handsome face was in a fine glow, +entirely. + +“'I think,' said, she to Jack, with one of her own sweet smiles, 'that +this is an odd way of performing your task.' + +“'Och, thin, 'tis you that may say that,' replies Jack; 'but it's myself +that's willing to have my head hung up any day, just for one sight of +you, you darling.' + +“'Where did you come from?' asked the lady, with another smile that bate +the first all to nothing. + +“'Where did I come from, is it?' answered Jack; 'why, death-alive! +did you never hear of ould Ireland, my jewel!--hem--I mane, plase your +ladyship's honor.' + +“'No,' she answered; 'where is that country?' + +“'Och, by the honor of an Irishman,' says Jack, 'that takes the +shine!--not heard of Erin--the Imerald Isle--the Jim of the ocean, where +all the men are brave and honorable, and all the women--hem--I mane the +ladies--chaste and beautiful?' + +“'No,' said she; 'not a word: but if I stay longer I may get you +blame--come in to your breakfast, and I'm sorry to find that you have +done so little at your task. Your roaster's a man that always acts up to +what he threatens: and, if you have not this stable cleared out before +dusk, your head will be taken of your shoulders this night.' + +“'Why, thin,' says Jack, 'my beautiful darl--plase your honor's +ladyship--if he Dangs it up, will you do me the favor, _acushla +machree_, to turn my head toardst that same panel where I saw a sartin +fair face that I won't mintion: and if you do, let me alone for watching +a sartin purty face I'm acquainted with.' + +“'What means _cushla machree?_ inquired the lady, as she turned to go +away. + +“'It manes that you're the pulse of my heart, avourneen, plase your +ladyship's Reverence,' says Jack. + +“'Well,' said the lovely crathur, 'any time you speak to me in future, +I would rather you would omit terms of honor, and just call me after the +manner of your own country; instead, for instance, of calling me +your ladyship, I would be better pleased if you called me +cushla--something--' 'Cushla machree, ma vourneen--the pulse of my +heart--my darling,' said Jack, consthering it (the thief) for her, for +fraid she wouldn't know it well enough. + +“'Yes,' she replied, 'cushla machree; well, as I can pronounce it, +acushla machree, will you come in to your breakfast?' said the darling, +giving Jack a smile that would be enough, any day, to do up the heart +of an Irishman. Jack, accordingly, went after her, thinking of nothing +except herself; but on going in he could see no sign of her, so he-sat +down to his breakfast, though a single ounce, barring a couple of pounds +of beef, the poor fellow couldn't ate, at that bout, for' thinking of +her. + +“Well, he went again to his work, and thought he'd have better luck; but +it was still the ould game--three shovelfuls would come in for ev'ry one +he'd throw out; and now he began, in earnest, to feel something about +his heart that he didn't like, bekase he couldn't, for the life of him, +help thinking of the three hundred and sixty-four heads, and the empty +hook. At last he gave up the work entirely, and took it into his head to +make himself scarce from about the old fellow's castle, altogether; and +without more to do, he set off, never saying as much as 'good-bye' to +his master: but he hadn't got as far as the lower end of the yard, when +his ould friend, the dog, steps out of a kennel, and meets him full but +in the teeth. + +“'So, Jack,' says he, 'you're going to give us leg bail, I see; but walk +back with yourself, you spalpeen, this minute, and join your work, or +if you don't,' says he, 'it'll be worse for your health. I'm not so much +your enemy now as I was, bekase you have a friend in coort that you know +nothing about; so just do whatever you are bid, and keep never minding.' + +“Jack went back with a heavy heart, as you may be sure, knowing that, +whenever the black cur began to blarney him, there was no good to come +in his way. He accordingly went into the stable, but consuming to the +hand's turn he did, knowing it would be only useless; for, instead of +clearing it out, he'd be only filling it. + +“It was near dinner-time, and Jack was very sad and sorrowful, as how +could he be otherwise, poor fellow, with such a bloody-minded ould chap +to dale with? when up comes the darling of the world again, to call him +to his dinner. + +“'Well, Jack,' says she, with her white arms so beautiful, and her dark +clusters tossed about by the motion of her walk--how are you coming on +at your task?' 'How am I coming on, is it? Och, thin,' says Jack, giving +a good-humored smile through the frown that was on his face, 'plase your +lady--a cushla machree--it's all over with me; for I've still the same +story to tell, and off goes my head, as sure as it's on my shoulders, +this blessed night.' + +“'That would be a pity, Jack,' says she, 'for there are worse heads on +worse shoulders; but will you give me the shovel?' 'Will I give you +the shovel, is it?--Och thin, wouldn't I be a right big baste to do the +likes of that, any how?' says Jack; 'what! avourneen dheelish! to stand +up with myself, and let this hard shovel into them beautiful, soft, +white hands of your own! Faix, my jewel, if you knew but all, my +mother's son's not the man to do such a disgraceful turn, as to let a +lady like you take the shovel out of his hand, and he standing with his +mouth under his nose, looking at you--not myself auourneen! we have no +such ungenteel manners as that in our country.' 'Take my advice, Jack,' +says she, pleased in her heart at what Jack said, for all she didn't +purtend it--'give me the shovel, and depend upon it, I'll do more in a +short time to clear the stable than you would for years.' 'Why, thin, +avour-neen, it goes to my heart to refuse you; but, for all that, may +I never see yesterday, if a taste of it will go into your purty, white +fingers,' says the thief, praising her to her face all the time--'my +head may go off, any day, and welcome, but death before dishonor. Say no +more, darling; but tell your father I'll be to my dinner immediately.' + +“Notwithstanding all this, by jingo, the lady would not be put off; like +a raal woman, she'd have her own way; so on telling Jack that she didn't +intend to work with the shovel, at all, at all, but only to take it for +a minute in her hand, at long last he gave it to her; she then struck +it three times on the threshel of the door, and, giving it back into his +hand, tould him to try what he could do. Well, sure enough, now there +was a change; for, instead of three shovelfuls coming in, as before, +when he threw one out, there went nine more along with it. Jack, +in coorse, couldn't do less than thank the lovely crathur for her +assistance; but when he raised his head to speak to her, she was gone. +I needn't say, howsomever, that he went in to his dinner with a light +heart and a murdhering appetite; and when the ould fellow axed him how +he was coming on, Jack tould him he was doing gloriously. 'Remember the +empty hook, Jack,' said he. 'Never fear, your honor,' answered Jack, 'if +I don't finish my task, you may bob my head off anytime.' + +“Jack now went out, and was a short time getting through his job, for +before the sun set it was finished, and he came into the kitchen, ate +his supper, and, sitting down before the fire, sung 'Love among the +Roses,' and the 'Black Joke,' to vex the ould fellow. + +“This was one task over, and his head was safe for that bout; but that +night, before he went to bed, his master called him upstairs, brought +him into the bloody room, and gave him his orders for the next day. +'Jack,' says he, 'I have a wild filly that has never been caught, +and you must go to my demesne to-morrow, and catch her, or if you +don't--look there,' says the big blackguard, 'on that hook it hangs, +before to-morrow, if you havn't her at sunset in the stable that you +claned yesterday.' 'Very well, your honor,' said Jack, carelessly, 'I'll +do every thing in my power, and if I fail, I can't help it.' + +“The next morning, Jack was out with a bridle in his hand, going to +catch the filly. As soon as he got into the domain, sure enough, there +she was in the middle of a green field, grazing quite at her ase. When +Jack saw this he went over towards her, houlding out his hat as if it +was full of oats; but he kept the hand that had the bridle in it behind +his back, for fraid she'd see it and make off. Well, my dear, on he went +till he was almost within grip of her, cock-sure that he had nothing +more to do than slip the bridle over her neck and secure her; but he +made a bit of a mistake in his reckoning, for though she smelt and +snoaked about him, just as if she didn't care a feed of oats whether he +caught her or not, yet when he boulted over to hould her fast, she was +off like a shot with her tail cocked, to the far end of the demesne, +and Jack had to set off hot foot after here. All, however, was to no +purpose; he couldn't come next or near her for the rest of the day, and +there she kept coorsing him about from one field to another, till he +hadn't a blast of breath in his body. + +“In this state was Jack when the beautiful crathur came out to call +him home to his breakfast, walking with the pretty small feet and +light steps of her own upon the green fields, so bright and beautiful, +scarcely bending the flowers and the grass as she went along, the +darling. + +“'Jack,' says she, 'I fear you have as difficult a task to-day as you +had yesterday.' + +“'Why, and it's you that may say that with your own purty mouth,' says +Jack, says he; for out of breath and all as he was, he couldn't help +giving her a bit of blarney, the rogue. + +“'Well, Jack,' says she, 'take my advice, and don't tire yourself any +longer by attempting to catch her; truth's, best--I tell you, you could +never do it; come home to your breakfast, and when you return again, +'just amuse yourself as well as you can until dinner-time.' + +“'Och, och!' says Jack, striving to look, the sly thief, as if she had +promised to help him--'I only wish I was a king, and, by the powers, +I know who would be my queen, any how; for it's your own sweet +lady--savourneen dheelish--I say, amn't I bound to you for a year and +a day longer, for promising to give me a lift, as well as for what you +done yesterday?' + +“'Take care, Jack,' says she, smiling, however, at his ingenuity in +striving to trap her into a promise, 'I don't think I made any promise +of assistance.' + +“'You didn't,' says Jack, wiping his face with the skirt of his coat, +''cause why?--you see pocket-handkerchiefs weren't invented in them +times: 'why, thin, may I never live to see yesterday, if there's not +as much rale beauty in that smile that's diverting itself about them +sweet-breathing lips of yours, and in them two eyes of light that's +breaking both their hearts laughing at me, this minute, as would +encourage any poor fellow to expect a good turn from you--that is, whin +you could do it, without hurting or harming yourself; for it's he would +be the right rascal that could take it, if it would injure a silken hair +of your head.' + +“'Well,' said the lady, with a mighty roguish smile, 'I shall call you +home to your dinner, at all events.' + +“When Jack went back from his breakfast, he didn't slave himself after +the filly toy more, but walked about to view the demesne, and the +avenues, and the green walks, and nice temples, and fish-ponds, and +rookeries, and everything, in short, that was worth seeing. Towards +dinner-time, howiver, he began to have an eye to the way the sweet +crathur was to come, and sure enough she that wasn't one minute late. + +“'Well, Jack,' says she, 'I'll keep you no longer in doubt:' for the +tender-hearted crathur saw that Jack, although he didn't wish to let +an to her, was fretting every now and then about the odd hook and the +bloody room--'So, Jack,' says she, 'although I didn't promise, yet I'll +perform;' and with that she pulled a small ivory whistle out of her +pocket, and gave three blasts on it that brought the wild filly up to +her very hand, as quick as the wind. She then took the bridle, and threw +it over the baste's neck, giving her up, at the same time, to Jack; 'You +needn't fear now, Jack,' says she, 'you'll find her as quiet as a lamb, +and as tame as you wish; as proof of it, just walk before her, and you +will see she will follow you to any part of the field.' + +“Jack, you maybe sure, paid her as many and as sweet compliments as +he could, and never heed one from his country for being able to say +something toothsome to the ladies. At any rate, if he laid it on thick +the day before, he gave two or three additional coats this time, and the +innocent soul went away smiling, as usual. + +“When Jack brought the filly home, the dark fellow, his master, if dark +before, was a perfect thunder-cloud this night: bedad, he was nothing +less than near bursting with vexation, bekaise the thieving ould sinner +intended to have Jack's head upon the hook, but he fell short in his +reckoning now as well as before. Jack sung 'Love among the Roses,' and +the 'Black Joke,' to help him into better timper. + +“'Jack,' says he, striving to make himself speak pleasant to him, +'you've got two difficult tasks over you; but you know the third time's +the charm--take care of the next.' + +“'No matter about that,' says Jack, speaking up to him stiff and stout, +bekase, as the dog tould him, he knew he had a friend in coort--'let's +hear what it is, any how.' + +“'To-morrow, then,' says the other, 'you're to rob a crane's nest, on +the top of a beech-tree which grows in the middle of a little island in +the lake that you saw yesterday in my demesne; you're to have neither +boat, nor oar, nor any kind of conveyance, but just as you stand; and if +you fail to bring me the eggs, or if you break one of them,--look here!' +says he, again pointing to the odd hook, for all this discoorse took +place in the bloody room. + +“'Good again,' says Jack; 'if I fail I know my doom.' + +“'No, you don't, you spalpeen,' says the other, getting vexed with him +entirely, 'for I'll roast you till you're half dead, and ate my dinner +off you after; and, what is more than that, you blackguard, you must +sing the 'Black Joke' all the time for my amusement.' + +“'Div'l fly away with you,' thought Jack, 'but you're fond of music, you +vagabone.' + +“The next morning Jack was going round and round the lake, trying about +the edge of it, if he could find any place shallow enough to wade in; +but he might as well go to wade the say, and what was worst of all, if +he attempted to swim, it would be like a tailor's goose, straight to +the bottom; so he kept himself safe on dry land, still expecting a visit +from the 'lovely crathur,' but, bedad, his good luck failed him for +wanst, for instead of seeing her coming over to him, so mild and sweet, +who does he obsarve steering at a dog's trot, but his ould friend the +smoking cur. 'Confusion to that cur,' says Jack to himself, 'I know now +there's some bad fortune before me, or he wouldn't be coming acrass me.' + +“'Come home to your breakfast, Jack,' says the dog, walking up to him, +'it's breakfast time.' + +“'Ay,' says Jack, scratching his head, 'it's no matter whether I do or +not, for I bleeve my head's hardly worth a flat-dutch cabbage at the +present speaking.' + +“'Why, man, it was never worth so much,' says the baste, pulling out his +pipe and putting it in his mouth, when it lit at once. + +“'Take care of yourself,' says Jack, quite desperate,--for he thought he +was near the end of his tether,--'take care of yourself, you dirty cur, +or maybe I might take a gintleman's toe from your tail.' + +“'You had better keep a straight tongue in your head,' says four-legs, +'while it's on your shoulders, or I'll break every bone in your +skin--Jack, you're a fool,' says he, checking himself, and speaking +kindly to him--'you're a fool; didn't I tell you the other day to do +what you were bid, and keep never minding?' + +“'Well,' thought Jack to himself, 'there's no use in making him any more +my enemy than he is--particularly as I'm in such a hobble.' + +“'You lie,' says the dog, as if Jack had spoken out to him, wherein he +only thought the words to himself, 'you lie,' says he, 'I'm not, nor +never was, your enemy, if you knew but all.' + +“'I beg your honor's pardon,' answers Jack, 'for being so smart with +your honor, but, bedad, if you were in my case,--if you expected your +master to roast you alive,--eat his dinner of your body,--make you sing +the 'Black Joke,' by way of music for him; and, to crown all, know that +your head was to be stuck upon a hook after--maybe you would be a little +short, in your temper, as well as your neighbors.' + +“'Take heart, Jack,' says the other, laying his fore claw as knowingly +as ever along his nose, and winking slyly at Jack, didn't I tell you +that you had a friend in coort--the day's not past yet, so cheer up, who +knows but there is luck before you still?' + +“'Why, thin,' says Jack, getting a little cheerful, and wishing to crack +a joke with him, 'but your honor's very fond of the pipe!' 'Oh! don't +you know, Jack,' says he, 'that that's the fashion at present among my +tribe; sure all my brother puppies smoke now, and a man might as well be +out of the world as out of the fashion, you know.' + +“When they drew near home, they got quite thick entirely; 'Now,' says +Jack, in a good-humored way, 'if you can give me a lift in robbing this +crane's nest, do; at any rate, I'm sure your honor won't be my enemy. I +know you have too much good nature in your face to be one that wouldn't +help a lame dog over a style--that is,' says he, taking himself up for +fear of offending the other,--'I'm sure you'd be always inclined to help +the weak side.' + +“'Thank you for the compliment,' says, the dog; 'but didn't I tell you +that you have a friend in coort?' + +“When Jack went back to the lake, he-could only sit and look sorrowfully +at the tree, or walls; about the edge of it, without being able to do +anything else. He spent the whole day this way, till dinner-time, when +what would you have of it, but he sees the darlin' coming out to him, as +fair and as blooming as an angel. His heart, you may be sure, got up +to his mouth, for he knew she would be apt to take him out of his +difficulties. When she came up-- + +“'Now, Jack,' says she, 'there is not a minute to be lost, for I'm +watch'd; and if it's discovered that I gave you any assistance, we will +both be destroyed.' + +“'Oh, murder sheery!' (* Murder everlasting) says Jack, 'fly back, +avourneen machree--for rather than anything should happen you, I'd lose +fifty-lives.' + +“'No,' says she, 'I think I'll be able to-get you over this, as well as +the rest; so have a good heart, and be faithful' 'That's it,' replied +Jack, 'that's it, acushla--my own _correcthur_ to a shaving; I've a +heart worth its weight in bank notes, and a more faithful boy isn't +alive this day nor I'm to yez all, ye darlings of the world.' + +“She then pulled a small white wand out of her pocket, struck the lake, +and there was the prettiest green ridge across it to the foot of the +tree that ever eye beheld. 'Now,' says she, turning her back to Jack, +and stooping down to do something that he couldn't see, 'Take these,' +giving him her ten toes, 'put them against the tree, and you will have +steps to carry you to the top, but be sure, for your life and mine, +not to forget any of them. If you do, my life will be taken tomorrow +morning, for your master puts on my slippers with his own hands.' + +“Jack was now going to swear that he would give up the whole thing and +surrender his head at once; but when life looked at her feet, and saw +no appearance of blood, he went over without more to do, and robbed +the nest, taking down the eggs one by one, that he mightn't brake them. +There was no end to his joy, as he secured the last egg; he instantly +took down the toes, one after another, save and except the little one +of the left foot, which in his joy and hurry he forgot entirely. He then +returned by the green ridge to the shore, and accordingly as he went +along, it melted away into water behind him. + +“'Jack,' says the charmer, 'I hope you forgot none of my toes.' + +“'Is it me?' says Jack, quite sure that he had them all--'arrah, catch +any one from my country making a blunder of that kind.' + +“'Well,' says she, 'let us see; so, taking the toes, she placed them on +again, just as if they had never been off. But, lo and behold! on coming +to the last of the left foot, it wasn't forthcoming. 'Oh! Jack, Jack,' +says she, 'you have destroyed me; to-morrow morning your master will +notice the want of this toe, and that instant I'll be put to death.' + +“'Lave that to me,' says Jack; 'by the powers, you won't lose a drop of +your darling blood for it. Have you got a pen-knife about you? and I'll +soon show you how you won't.' + +“'What do you want with the knife?' she inquired. + +“'What do I want with it?--Why to give you the best toe on both my feet, +for the one I lost on you; do you think I'd suffer you to want a toe, +and I having ten thumping ones at your sarvice?--I'm not the man, you +beauty you, for such a shabby trick as that comes to.' + +“'But you forget,' says the lady, who was a little cooler than Jack, +'that none of yours would fit me.' + +“'And must you die to-morrow, _acushla?_' asked Jack, in desperation. + +“'As sure as the sun rises,' answered the lady 'for Your master would +know at once that it was by my toes the nest was robbed.' + +“'By the powers,' observed Jack, 'he's one of the greatest ould vag--I +mane, isn't he a terrible man, out and out, for a father?' + +“'Father!' says the darling,--'he's not my father, Jack, he only wishes +to marry me and if I'm not able to outdo him before three days more, +it's decreed that he must. + +“When Jack heard this, surely the Irishman must come out; there he +stood, and began to wipe his eyes with the skirt of his coat, making +out as if he was crying, the thief of the world. 'What's the matter with +you?' she asked. + +“'All!' says Jack, 'you darling, I couldn't find it in my heart to +desave you; for I have no way at home to keep a lady like you, in proper +style, at all at all; I would only bring I you into poverty, and since +you wish to know what ails me, I'm vexed that I'm not rich for your +sake; and next, that that thieving ould villain's to have you; and, by +the powers, I'm crying for both these misfortunes together.' + +“The lady could not help being touched and plaised with Jack's +tinderness and ginerosity; so, says she, 'Don't be cast down, Jack, come +or go what will, I won't marry him--I'd die first. Do you go home as +usual; but take care and don't sleep at all this night. Saddle the wild +filly--meet me under the whitethorn bush at the end of the lawn, and +we'll both leave him for ever. If you're willin' to marry me, don't let +poverty distress you, for I have more money than we'll know what to do +with.' + +“Jack's voice now began to tremble in airnest, with downright love and +tinderness, as good right it had; so he promised to do everything just +as she bid him, and then went home with a dacint appetite enough to his +supper. + +“You may be sure the ould fellow looked darker and grimmer than ever at +Jack: but what could he do? Jack had done his duty? so he sat before +the fire, and sung 'Love among the Roses,' and the 'Black Joke,' with a +stouter and a lighter heart than ever, while the black chap, could have +seen him skivered. + +“When midnight came, Jack, who kept a hawk's eye to the night, was at +the hawthorn with the wild filly, saddled and all--more betoken, +she wasn't a bit wild then, but as tame as a dog. Off they set, like +Erin-go-bragh, Jack and the lady, and never pulled bridle till it +was one o'clock next day, when they stopped at an inn, and had some +refreshment. They then took to the road again, full speed; however, +they hadn't gone far, when they heard a great noise behind them, and the +tramp of horses galloping like mad. 'Jack,' says the darling, on hearing +the hubbub, 'look behind you, and see what's this.' + +[Illustration PAGE 676-- Throw it over your left shoulder] + +“'Och! by the elevens,' says Jack, 'we're done at last; it's the dark +fellow, and half the country after us.' 'Put your hand,' says she, 'in +the filly's right ear, and tell me what you find in it.' 'Nothing at +all,' says Jack, 'but a weeshy bit of a dry stick.' 'Throw it over your +left shoulder says she, 'and see what will happen.' Jack did so at +once, and there was a great grove of thick trees growing so close to one +another, that a dandy could scarcely get his arm betwixt them. 'Now,' +said she, 'we are safe for another day.' 'Well,' said Jack, as he pushed +on the filly, 'you're the jewel of the world, sure enough; and maybe +it's you that won't live happy when we get to the Jim of the Ocean.' + +“As soon as dark-face saw what happened, he was obliged to scour the +country for hatchets and hand-saws, and all kinds of sharp instruments, +to hew himself and his men a passage through the grove. As the saying +goes, many hands make light work, and sure enough, it wasn't long till +they had cleared a way for themselves, thick as it was, and set off with +double speed after Jack and the lady. + +“The next day, about' one o'clock, he and she were after taking another +small refreshment of roast-beef and porther, and pushing on, as before, +when they heard the same tramping behind them, only it was ten times +louder. + +“'Here they are again,' says Jack; 'and I'm afeard they'll come up with +us at last.' + +“'If they do,' says she, 'they'll put us to death on the spot; but we +must try somehow to stop them another day, if we can; search the filly's +right ear again, and let me know what you find in it.' + +“Jack pulled out a little three-cornered pebble, telling her that it was +all he got; 'well,' says she, 'throw it over your left shoulder like the +stick.' + +“No sooner said than done; and there was a great chain of high, sharp +rocks in the way of divel-face and all his clan. 'Now,' says she, 'we +have gained another day.' 'Tundher-and-turf!' says Jack, 'what's this +for, at all, at all?--but wait till I get you in the Immerald Isle, for +this, and if you don't enjoy happy days any how, why I'm not sitting +before you on this horse, by the same token that it's not a horse at +all, but a filly though; if you don't get the hoith of good aiting and +drinking--lashings of the best wine and whisky that the land can afford, +my name's not Jack. We'll build a castle, and you'll have upstairs and +downstairs--a coach and six to ride in--lots of sarvints to attend on +you, and full and plinty of everything; not to mintion--hem!--not to +mintion that you'll have a husband that the fairest lady in the land +might be proud of,' says he, stretching himself up in the saddle, and +giving the filly a jag of the spurs, to show off a bit; although the +coaxing rogue knew that the money which was to do all this was her own. +At any rate, they spent the remainder of this day pleasantly enough, +still moving on, though, as fast as they could. Jack, every now and +then, would throw an eye behind, as if to watch their pursuers, wherein, +if the truth was known, it was to get a peep at the beautiful glowing +face and warm lips that were breathing all kinds of _fragrancies_ about +him. I'll warrant he didn't envy the king upon his throne, when he felt +the honeysuckle of her breath, like the smell of Father Ned's orchard +there, of a May morning. + +“When Fardorougha (* the dark man) found the great chain of rocks before +him, you may set it down that he was likely to blow up with vexation; +but, for all that, the first thing he blew up was the rocks--and that he +might lose little or no time in doing it, he collected all the gunpowder +and crowbars, spades and pickaxes, that could be found for miles about +him, and set to it, working as if it was with inch of candle. For half +a day there was nothing but boring and splitting, and driving of iron +wedges, and blowing up pieces of rocks as big as little houses, until, +by hard, labor, they made a passage for themselves sufficient to carry +them over. They then set off again, full speed; and great advantage they +had over the poor filly that Jack and the lady rode on, for their horses +were well rested, and hadn't to carry double, like Jack's. The next day +they spied Jack and his beautiful companion, just about a quarter of a +mile before them. + +“'Now,' says dark-brow, 'I'll make any man's fortune forever that will +bring me them two, either living or dead, but, if possible, alive: so, +spur on, for whoever secures them, man, woman, or child, is a made man, +but, above all, make no noise.' + +“It was now divil take the hindmost among the bloody pack--every spur +was red with blood, and every horse smoking. Jack and the lady were +jogging on acrass a green field, not suspecting that the rest were so +near them, and talking over the pleasant days they would spind together +in Ireland, when they hears the hue-and-cry once more at their very +heels. + +“'Quick as lightning, Jack,' says she, 'or we're lost--the right ear and +the left shoulder, like thought--they're not three lengths of the filly +from us!' + +“But Jack knew his business; for just as a long, grim-looking villain, +with a great rusty rapier in his hand, was within a single leap of them, +and quite sure of either killing or making prisoners of them both, Jack +flings a little drop of green water that he got in the filly's ear over +his left shoulder, and in an instant there was a deep, dark gulf, filled +with black, pitchy-looking water between them. The lady now desired Jack +to pull up the filly a bit, that they might see what would become of the +dark fellow; but just as they turned round, the ould nagur set 'spurs to +his horse, and, in a fit of desperation, plunged himself, horse and all, +into the gulf, and was never seen or heard of more. The rest that were +with him went home, and began to quarrel about his wealth, and kept +murdering and killing one another, until a single vagabond of them +wasn't left alive to enjoy it. + +“When Jack saw what happened, and that the blood-thirsty ould villain +got what he desarved so richly, he was as happy as a prince, and ten +times happier than most of them as the world goes, and she was every bit +as delighted. 'We have nothing more to fear,' said the darling that put +them all down so cleverly, seeing that she was but a woman; but, bedad, +it's she was the right sort of a woman--'all our dangers are now over, +at least, all yours are; regarding myself,' says she, 'there's a trial +before me yet, and that trial, Jack, depends upon your faithfulness and +constancy.' + +“'On me, is it?--Och, then, murder! isn't it a poor case entirely, that +I have no way of showing you that you may depind your life upon me, only +by telling you so?' + +“'I do depend upon you,' says she--'and now, as you love me, do not, +when the trial comes, forget her that saved you out of so many troubles, +and made you such a great and wealthy man.' + +“The foregoing part of this Jack could well understand, but the last +part of it, making collusion to the wealth, was a little dark, as he +thought, bekase, he hadn't fingered any of it at the time: still, he +knew she was truth to the back-bone, and wouldn't desave him. They +hadn't travelled much farther, When Jack snaps his fingers with a 'Whoo! +by the powers, there it is, my darling--there it is, at long last!' + +“'There is what, Jack?' said she, surprised, as well she might, at his +mirth and happiness--'There is what?' says she. 'Cheer up!' says Jack; +'there it is, my darling,--the Shannon!--as soon as we get to the other +side of it, we'll be in ould Ireland once more.' + +“There was no end to Jack's good humor, when he crossed the Shannon; +and she was not a bit displeased to see him so happy. They had now no +enemies to fear, were in a civilized country, and among green fields +and well-bred people. In this way they travelled at their ase, till they +came within a few miles of the town of Knockimdowny, near which Jack's +mother lived. + +“'Now, Jack,' says she, 'I told you that I would make you rich. You know +the rock beside your mother's cabin; in the east end of that rock there +is a loose stone, covered over with gray moss, just two feet below the +cleft out of which the hanging rowan-tree grows--pull that stone out, +and you will find more goold than would make a duke. Neither speak to +any person, nor let any living thing touch your lips till you come back +to me, or you'll forget that you ever saw me, and I'll lie left poor and +friendless in a strange, country.' + +“'Why, thin, _manim asthee hu_,' (* My soul's within you.) says Jack, +'but the best way to guard against that, is to touch your own sweet lips +at the present time,' says he, giving her a smack that you'd hear, of +a calm evening, acrass a couple of fields. Jack set off to touch the +money, with such speed that when he fell he scarcely waited to rise +again; he was soon at the rock, any how, and without either doubt or +disparagement, there was a cleft of real goolden guineas, as fresh as +daisies. The first thing he did, after he had filled his pockets with +them, was to look if his mother's cabin was to the fore; and there +surely it was, as snug as ever, with the same dacent column of smoke +rowling from the chimbley. + +“'Well,' thought he, 'I'll just stale over to the door-cheek, and peep +in to get one sight of my poor mother; then I'll throw her in a handful +of these guineas, and take to my scrapers.' + +“Accordingly, he stole up at a half bend to the door, and was just going +to take a peep in, when out comes the little dog Trig, and begins to +leap and fawn upon him, as if it would eat him. The mother, too, came +running out to see what was the matter, when the dog made another spring +up about Jack's neck, and gave his lips the slightest lick in the world +with its tongue, the crathur was so glad to see him: the next minute, +Jack forgot the lady, as clane as if he had never seen her; but if he +forgot her, catch him at forgetting the money--not he, avick!--that +stuck to him like pitch. + +“When the mother saw who it was, she flew to him, and, clasping her arms +about his neck, hugged him till she wasn't worth three halfpence. After +Jack sot a while, he made a trial to let her know what had happened him, +but he disremembered it all, except having the money in the rock, so +he up and tould her that, and a glad woman she was to hear of his good +fortune. Still he kept the place where the goold was to himself, having +been often forbid by her ever to trust a woman with a sacret when he +could avoid it. + +“Now everybody knows what changes the money makes, and Jack was no +exception to this ould saying. In a few years he built himself a fine +castle, with three hundred and sixty-four windies in it, and he would +have added another, to make one for every day in the year, only that +would be equal to the number in the King's palace, and the Lord of the +Black Rod would be sent to take his head off, it being high thrason for +a subject to have as many windies in his house as the king. (* Such is +the popular opinion.) However, Jack, at any rate, had enough of them; +and he that couldn't be happy with three hundred and sixty-four, +wouldn't desarve to have three hundred and sixty-five. Along with all +this, he bought coaches and carriages, and didn't get proud like many +another beggarly upstart, but took especial good care of his mother, +whom he dressed in silks and satins, and gave her nice nourishing food, +that was fit for an ould woman in her condition. He also got great +tachers, men of great larning, from Dublin, acquainted with all +subjects; and as his own abilities were bright, he soon became a very +great scholar, entirely, and was able, in the long run, to outdo all his +tutherers. + +“In this way he lived for some years--was now a man of great larning +himself--could spake the seven _langidges_, and it would delight your +ears to hear how high-flown and Englified he could talk. All the world +wondered where he got his wealth; but as he was kind and charitable +to every one that stood in need of assistance, the people said that +wherever he got it it couldn't be in better hands. At last he began to +look about him for a wife, and the only one in that part of the country +that would be at all fit for him, was the Honorable Miss Bandbox, the +daughter of a nobleman in the neighborhood. She indeed flogged all the +world for beauty; but it was said that she was proud and fond of wealth, +though, God he knows, she had enough of that any how. Jack, however, saw +none of this; for she was cunning enough to smile, and simper, and look +pleasant, whenever he'd come to her father's. Well, begad, from one +thing, and one word, to another, Jack thought it was best to make up to +her at wanst, and try if she'd accept of him for a husband; accordingly +he put the word to her like a man, and she, making as if she was +blushing, put her fan before her face and made no answer. Jack, however, +wasn't to be daunted; for he knew two things worth knowing, when a man +goes to look for a wife: the first is--that 'faint heart never won fair +lady,' and the second--that 'silence gives consint;' he, therefore, +spoke up to her in fine English, for it's he that knew how to speak now, +and after a little more fanning and blushing, by jingo, she consinted. +Jack then broke the matter to her father, who was as fond of money as +the daughter, and only wanted to grab at him for the wealth. + +“When the match was a making, says ould Bandbox to Jack, 'Mr. Magennis,' +says he, (for nobody called him Jack now but his mother)--'these two +things you must comply with, if you marry my daughter, Miss Gripsy:--you +must send away your mother from about you, and pull down the cabin in +which you and she used to live; Gripsy says that they would jog her +memory consarning your low birth and former poverty; she's nervous +and high-spirited, Mr. Magennis, and declares upon her honor that +she couldn't bear the thoughts of having the delicacy of her feeling +offinded by these things.' + +“'Good morning to you both,' says Jack, like an honest fellow as he +was, 'if she doesn't marry me except on these conditions, give her my +compliments, and tell her our courtship is at an end.' + +“But it wasn't long till they soon came out with another story, +for before a week passed they were very glad to get him on his own +conditions. Jack was now as happy as the day was long--all things +appointed for the wedding, and nothing a wanting to make everything to +his heart's content but the wife, and her he was to have in less than +no time. For a day or two before the wedding, there never was seen +such grand preparations: bullocks, and hogs, and sheep were roasted +whole--kegs of whiskey, both Roscrea and Innishowen, barrels of ale and +beer were there in dozens. All descriptions of niceties and wild-fowl, +and fish from the _say_; and the dearest wine that could be bought with +money, was got for the gentry and grand folks. Fiddlers, and pipers, and +harpers, in short all kinds of music and musicianers, played in shoals. +Lords and ladies, and squares of high degree were present--and, to crown +the thing, there was open house to all comers. + +“At length the wedding-day arrived; there was nothing but roasting +and boiling; servants dressed in rich liveries ran about with joy and +delight in their countenances, and white gloves and wedding favors on +their hats and hands. To make a long story short, they were all seated +in Jack's castle at the wedding breakfast, ready for the priest to marry +them when they'd be done; for in them times people were never married +until they had laid in a good foundation to carry them through the +ceremony. Well, they were all seated round the table, the men dressed +in the best of broadcloth, and the ladies rustling in their silks and +satins--their heads, necks, and arms hung round with jewels both rich +and rare; but of all that were there that day, there wasn't the likes of +the bride and bridegroom. As for him, nobody could think, at all at all, +that he was ever any thing else than a born gintleman; and what was more +to his credit, he had his kind ould mother sitting beside the bride, to +tache her that an honest person, though poorly born, is company for the +king. As soon as the breakfast was served up, they all set to, and maybe +the various kinds of eatables did not pay for it; and among all this +cutting and thrusting, no doubt but it was remarked, that the bride +herself was behindhand wid none of them--that she took her _dalin-trick_ +without flinching, and made nothing less than a right fog meal of it; +and small blame to her for that same, you persave. + +“When the breakfast was over, up gets Father Flannagan--out with his +book, and on with his stole, to marry them. The bride and bridegroom +went up to the end of the room, attended by their friends, and the rest +of the company stood on each side of it, for you see they were too +high bred, and knew their manners too well, to stand in a crowd like +spalpeens. For all that, there was many a sly look from the ladies to +their bachelors, and many a titter among them, grand as they were; +for, to tell the truth, the best of them likes to see fun in the way, +particularly of that sort. The priest himself was in as great a glee as +any of them, only he kept it under, and well he might, for sure enough +this marriage was nothing less than a rare windfall to him and the +parson that was to marry them after him--bekase you persave a Protestant +and Catholic must be married by both, otherwise it does not hould good +in law. The parson was as grave as a mustard-pot, and Father Flannagan +called the bride and bridegroom his childher, which was a big bounce for +him to say the likes of, more betoken that neither of them was a drop's +blood to him. + +“However, he pulled out the book, and was just beginning to buckle them +when in comes Jack's ould acquaintance, the smoking cur, as grave as +ever. The priest had just got through two or three words of Latin, when +the dog gives him a pluck by the sleeve; Father Flannagan, of coorse, +turned round to see who it was that _nudged_ him: 'Behave yourself,' +says the dog to him, just as he peeped over his shoulder---'behave +yourself,' says he; and with that he sat him down on his hunkers beside +the priest, and pulling a cigar instead of a pipe out of his pocket, he +put it in his mouth, and began to smoke for the bare life of him. And, +by my own word, it's he that could smoke: at times he would shoot the +smoke in a slender stream like a knitting-needle, with a round curl at +the one end of it, ever so far out of the right side of his mouth; then +he would shoot it out of the left, and sometimes make it swirl out so +beautiful from the middle of his lips!--why, then, it's he that must +have been the well-bred puppy all out, as far as smoking went. Father +Flannagan and they all were thundherstruck. + +“'In the name of St. Anthony, and of that holy nun, St. Teresa,' said +his Reverence to him, 'who and what are you, at all at all?' + +“'Never mind that,' says the dog, taking the cigar for a minute between +his claws; 'but if you wish particularly to know, I'm a thirty-second +cousin of your own by the mother's side.' + +“'I command you in the name of all the saints,' says Father Flarmagan, +believing him to be the devil, 'to disappear from among us, and never +become visible to any one in this house again.' + +“'The sorra a budge, at the present time, will I budge,' says the dog to +him, 'until I see all sides rightified, and the rogues disappointed.' + +“Now one would be apt to think the appearance of a _spaking_ dog might +be after fright'ning the ladies; but doesn't all the world know that +_spaking_ puppies are their greatest favorites? Instead of that, you +see, there was half a dozen fierce-looking whiskered fellows, and three +or four half-pay officers, that were nearer making off than the ladies. +But, besides the cigar, the dog had his beautiful eye-glass, and through +it, while he was spaking to Father Flannigan, he ogled all the ladies, +one after another, and when his eye would light upon any that pleased +him, he would kiss his paw to her and wag his tail with the greatest +politeness. + +“'John,' says Father Flannagan, to one of the servants, 'bring me salt +and water, till I consecrate them* to banish the divil, for he has +appeared to us all during broad daylight in the shape of a dog.' + + * Salt and water consecrated by a particular form is Holy Water. + +“'You had better behave yourself, I say again,' says the dog, 'or if +you make me speak, by my honor as a gintleman I'll expose you: I say you +won't marry the same two, neither this nor any other day, and I'll give +you my raisons presently; but I repate it, Father Flannagan, if you +compel me to speak, I'll make you look nine ways at once.' + +“'I defy you, Satan,' says the priest; 'and if you don't take yourself +away before the holy watcher's made, I'll send you off in a flame of +fire.' + +“'Oh! yes, I'm trimbling,' says the dog: 'plenty of spirits you laid in +your day, but it was in a place that's nearer to us than the Red Sea, +you did it: listen to me though, for I don't wish to expose you, as I +said;' so he gets on his hind legs, puts his nose to the priest's ear, +and whispers something that none of the rest could hear--all before +the priest had time to know where he was. At any rate, whatever he said +seemed to make his Reverence look double, though, faix, that wasn't +hard to do, for he was as big as two common men. When the dog was +done speaking, and had put his cigar in his mouth, the priest seemed +thundherstruck, crossed himself, and was, no doubt of it, in great +perplexity. + +“'I say it's false,' says Father Flannagan, plucking up his courage; +'but you know you're a liar, and the father of liars.' + +“'As thrue as gospel, this bout, I tell you,' says the dog. + +“'Wait till I make my holy wather,' says the priest, 'and if I don't +cork you in a thumb-bottle for this,* I'm not here.' + + * According to the superstitious belief of the Irish, a + priest, when banishing a spirit, puts it into a thumb- + bottle, which he either buries deep in the earth, or in some + lake. + +“Just at this minute, the whole company sees a gintleman galloping +for the bare life of him, up to the hall-door, and he dressed like an +officer. In three jiffeys he was down off his horse, and in among the +company. The dog, as soon as he made his appearance, laid his claw as +usual on his nose, and gave the bridegroom a wink, as much as to say, +'watch what'll happen.' + +“Now it was very odd that Jack, during all this time, remembered the dog +very well, but could never once think of the darling that did so much +for him. As soon, however, as the officer made his appearance, the bride +seemed as if she would sink outright; and when he walked up to her, +to ax what was the meaning of what he saw, why, down she drops at +once--fainted clane. The gintleman then went up to Jack, and says, 'Sir, +was this lady about to be married to you?' + +“'Sartinly,' says Jack, 'we were going to be yoked in the blessed and +holy tackle of mathrimony;' or some high-flown words of that kind. + +“'Well, sir,' says the other back to him, 'I can only say that she is +most solemniously sworn never to marry another man but me at a time; +that oath she tuck when I was joining my regiment before it went abroad; +and if the ceremony of your marriage be performed, you will sleep with a +perjured bride.' + +“Begad, he did plump before all their faces. Jack, of coorse, was struck +all of aghape at this; but as he had the bride in his arms, giving her a +little sup of whiskey to bring her to, you persave, he couldn't make him +an answer. However, she soon came to herself, and, on opening her eyes, +'Oh, hide me, hide me,' says she, 'for I can't bear to look on him!' + +“'He says you are his sworn bride, my darling,' says Jack. + +“'I am--I am,' says she, covering her eyes, and crying away at the rate +of a wedding: 'I can't deny it; and, by tare-an-ounty!' says she, 'I'm +unworthy to be either his wife or yours; for, except I marry you both, I +dunna how to settle this affair between you at all;--oh, murther sheery! +but I'm the misfortunate crathur, entirely.' + +“'Well,' says Jack to the officer, 'nobody can do more than be sorry +for a wrong turn; small blame to her for taking a fancy to your humble +servant, Mr. Officer,'--and he stood as tall as possible to show himself +off: 'you see the fair lady is sorrowful for her folly, so as it's +not yet too late, and as you came in the nick of time, in the name of +Providence take my place, and let the marriage go an.' + +“'No,' says she, 'never; I'm not worthy of him, at all, at all; +thundher-an-age, but I'm the unlucky thief!' + +“While this was going forward, the officer looked closely at Jack, and +seeing him such a fine, handsome fellow, and having heard before of his +riches, he began to think that, all things considhered, she wasn't so +much to be _blempt_. Then, when he saw how sorry she was for having +forgot him, he steps _forrid_. + +“'Well,' says he, 'I'm still willing to marry you, particularly as you +feel conthrition--'” + + +“He should have said contrition, confession, and satisfaction,” observed +Father Peter. + +“Pettier, will you keep your theology to yourself,” replied Father Ned, +“and let us come to the plot without interruption.” + +“Plot!” exclaimed Father Peter; “I'm sure it's no rebellion that there +should be a plot in it, any way!” + +“_Tace_,” said Father Ned--“_tace_, and that's Latin for a candle.” + +“I deny that,” said the curate; “tace is the imperative mood from +_tacco_, to keep silent. Tacco, taces, tacui, tacere, tacendi, tacendo +tac--” + +“Ned, go on with your story, and never mind that deep larning of +his--he's almost cracked with it,” said the superior: “go on, and never +mind him.” + + +“'Well,' says he, 'I'm still willing to marry you, particularly as you +feel conthrition for what you were going to do.' So, with this, they +all gother about her, and, as the officer was a fine fellow himself, +prevailed upon her to let the marriage be performed, and they were +accordingly spliced as fast as his Reverence could make them. + +“'Now, Jack,' says the dog, 'I want to spake with you for a minute--it's +a word for your own ear;' so up he stands on his two hind legs, and +purtinded to be whisp'ring something to him; but what do you think?--he +gives him the slightest touch on the lips with his paw, and that instant +Jack remimbered the lady and everything that happened betune them. + +“'Tell me, this instant,' says Jack, seizing him by the throat, 'where's +the darling, at all, at all, or by this and by that you'll hang on the +next tree!' + +“Jack spoke finer nor this, to be sure, but as I can't give his tall +English, the sorra one of me will bother myself striving to do it. + +“'Behave yourself,' says the dog, 'just say nothing, only follow me.' + +“Accordingly, Jack went out with the dog, and in a few minutes comes in +again, leading along with him, on the one side, the loveliest lady that +ever eye beheld, and the dog, that was her brother, metamurphied into a +beautiful, illegant gintleman, on the other. + +“'Father Flannagan,' says Jack, 'you thought a little while ago you'd +have no marriage, but instead of that you'll have a brace of them;' up +and telling the company, at the same time, all that had happened to him, +and how the beautiful crathur that he had brought in with him had done +so much for him. + +“Whin the gintlemen heard this, as they Were all Irishmen, you may be +sure there was nothing but huzzaing and throwing up of hats from them, +and waving of hankerchers from the ladies. Well, my dear, the wedding +dinner was ate in great style; the nobleman proved himself no disgrace +to his rank at the trencher; and so, to make a long story short, such +faisting and banquetteering was never since or before. At last, night +came; among ourselves, not a doubt of it, but Jack thought himself a +happy man; and maybe, if all was known, the bride was much in the +same opinion: be that as it may, night came--the bride, all blushing, +beautiful, and modest as your own sweetheart, was getting tired after +the dancing; Jack, too, though much stouter, wished for a trifle of +repose, and many thought it was near time to throw the stocking, as is +proper, of coorse, on every occasion of the kind. Well, he was just on +his way up stairs, and had reached the first landing, when he hears a +voice at his ear, shouting, 'Jack--Jack--Jack Magennis!' Jack could have +spitted anybody for coming to disturb him at such a criticality. 'Jack +Magennis!' says the voice. Jack looked about to see who it was that +called him, and there he found himself lying on the green Rath, a little +above his mother's cabin, of a fine, calm summer's evening, in the month +of June. His mother was stooping over him, with her mouth at his ear, +striving to waken him, by shouting and shaking him out of his sleep. + +“'Oh! by this and by that, mother,' says Jack, 'what did you waken me +for?' + +“'Jack, avourneen,' says the mother, 'sure and you war lying grunting, +and groaning, and snifthering there, for all the world as if you had the +cholic, and I only nudged you for fraid you war in pain.' + +“'I wouldn't for a thousand guineas,' says Jack, 'that ever you wakened +me, at all, at all; but whisht, mother, go into the house, and I'll be +afther you in less than no time.' + +“The mother went in, and the first thing Jack did was to try the rock; +and, sure enough, there he found as much money as made him the richest +man that ever was in the country. And what was to his credit, when, he +did grow rich, he wouldn't let his cabin be thrown down, but built a +fine castle on a spot near it, where he could always have it under his +eye, to prevent him from getting proud. In the coorse of time, a harper, +hearing the story, composed a tune upon it, which every body knows is +called the 'Little House under the Hill' to this day, beginning with-- + + 'Hi for it, ho for it, hi for it still; + Och, and whoo! your sowl--hi for the little house under the hill!' + +“So you see that was the way the great Magennisses first came by their +wealth, and all because Jack was indistrious, and an obadient, dutiful, +and tindher son to his helpless ould mother, and well he deserved +what he got, _ershi misha_ (* Say I.) Your healths, Father Ned--Father +Pether--all kinds of happiness to us; and there's my story.” + +* * * * * + +“Well,” said Father Peter, “I think that dog was nothing more or less +than a downright cur, that deserved the lash nine times a day, if it +was only for his want of respect to the clergy; if he had given me such +insolence, I solemnly declare I would have bate the devil out of him +with a hazel cudgel, if I failed to exorcise him with a prayer.” + +Father Ned looked at the simple and credulous curate with an expression +of humor and astonishment. + +“Paddy,” said he to the servant, “will you let us know what the night's +doing?” + +Paddy looked out. “Why, your Rev'rence, it's a fine night, all out, and +cleared up it is bravely.” + +At this moment the stranger awoke. + +“Sir,” said Father Ned, “you missed an amusing story, in consequence of +your somnolency.” + +“Though I missed the story,” replied the stranger, “I was happy enough +to hear your friend's critique upon the dog.” + +Father Ned seemed embarrassed; the curate, on the contrary, exclaimed +with triumph--“but wasn't I right, sir?” + +“Perfectly,” said the stranger; “the moral you applied was excellent.” + +“Good-night, boys,” said Father Ned--“good-night, Mr. Longinus +Polysyllabus Alexandrinus!” + +“Good-night, boys,” said Father Peter, imitating Father Ned, whom he +looked upon as a perfect model of courtesy--“Good-night, boys--good +night, Mr. Longinus Polysyllabus Alexandrinus.” + +“Good-night,” replied the stranger--“good-night, Doctor Edward Deleery; +and good-night, Doctor Peter M'Clatchaghan--good-night.” + +When the clergymen were gone, the circle about the fire, excepting the +members of Ned's family and the stranger, dispersed to their respective +homes; and thus ended the amusement of that evening. + +After they had separated, Ned, whose curiosity respecting the stranger +was by no means satisfied, began to sift him in his own peculiar manner, +as they both sat at the fire. + +“Well, sir,” said Ned, “barring the long play-acther that tumbles upon +the big stage in the street of our market-town, here below, I haven't +seen so long a man this many a day; and, barring your big whiskers, +the sorra one of your honor's unlike him. A fine portly vagabone he is, +indeed--a big man, and a bigger rogue, they say, for he pays nobody.” + +“Have you got such a company in your neighborhood?” inquired the +stranger, with indifference. + +“We have, sir,” said Ned, “but, plase goodness, they'll soon be lashed +like hounds from the place--the town boys are preparing to give them a +chivey some fine morning out of the country.” + +“Indeed!--he--hem! that will be very spirited of the town boys,” said +the stranger dryly. + +“That's a smart looking horse your honor rides,” observed Ned; “did he +carry you far to-day, with submission?” + +“Not far,” replied his companion--“only fourteen miles; but, I suppose, +the fact is, you wish to know who and what I am, where I came from and +whither I am going. Well, you shall know this. In the first place, I am +agent to Lord Non Resident's estate, if you ever heard of that +nobleman, and am on my way from Castle Ruin, the seat of his Lordship's +Incumbrances, to Dublin. My name you have already heard. Are you now +satisfied?” + +“Parfitly, your honor,” replied Ned, “and I am much obliged to you, +sir.” + +“I trust you are an honest man,” said the stranger, “because for this +night I am about to place great confidence in you.” + +“Well, sir,” said his landlord, “if I turn out dishonest to you, it's +more nor I did in my whole life to any body else, barring to Nancy.” + +“Here, then,” said the stranger, drawing out a large packet, inclosed +in a roll of black leather--“here is the half year's rent of the estate, +together with my own property: keep it secure till morning, when I shall +demand it, and, of course, it will be safe?” + +“As if it was five _fadom_, under ground,” replied Ned. “I will put it +along with our own trifle of silver; and after that, let Nancy alone for +keeping it safe, so long as it's there;” saying which, Ned secured the +packet, and showed the stranger his bed. + +About five o'clock the next morning their guest was up, and ordered a +snack in all haste; “Being a military man,” said he, “and accustomed to +timely hours, I shall ride down to the town, and put a letter into the +post-office in time for the Dublin mail, after which you may expect me +to breakfast. But, in the meantime, I am not to go with empty pockets,” + he added; when mounting his horse at the door--“bring me some silver, +landlord, and be quick.” + +“How much, plase your honor?” + +“Twenty or thirty shillings; but, harkee, produce my packet, that I may +be quite certain my property is safe.” + +“Here it is, your honor, safe and sound,” replied Ned, returning from +within; “and Nancy, sir, has sent you all the silver she has, which +was One Pound Five; but I'd take it as a favor if your honor would be +contint with twenty shillings, and lave me the odd five, for you see +the case is this, sir, plase your honor, _she_,” and Ned, with a +shrewd, humorous nod, pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, as he +spoke-- “she wears the ---- what you know, sir.” + +“Ay, I thought so,” replied the stranger; “but a man of your size to be +henpecked must be a great knave, otherwise your wife would allow you +more liberty. Go in, man; you deserve no compassion in such an age of +freedom as this. I sha'n't give you a farthing till after my return, and +only then if it be agreeable to your wife.” * + + * Ned M'Keown was certainly a very remarkable individual, + and became, in consequence of his appearance in these pages, + a person of considerable notoriety during the latter years + of his life. His general character, and the nature of his + unsuccessful speculations, I have drawn with great truth. + There is only one point alone in which I have done him + injustice, and that is in depicting him as a henpecked + husband. The truth is, I had a kind of good humored pique in + against Ned, and for the following reasons:--The cross-roads + at which he lived formed a central point for all the + youngsters of the neighborhood to assemble for the purpose + of practising athletic exercises, of which I, in my youth, + was excessively fond. Now Ned never would suffer me to join + my young acquaintances in these harmless and healthful + sports, but on every occasion, whenever he saw me, he would + run out with,a rod or cudgel and chase me from the scene of + amusement. This, to a boy so enthusiastically devoted to + such diversions as I was, often occasioned me to give him + many a hearty malediction when at a safe distance. In fact, + he continued this practice until I became too much of a man + to run away, after which he durst only growl and mutter + abuse, whilst I snapped my fingers at him. For this reason, + then, and remembering all the vexatious privations of my + favorite sports which he occasioned me, I resolved to turn + the laugh against him, which I did effectually, by bringing + him out in the character of a hen-pecked husband, which was + indeed very decidedly opposed to his real one. My triumph + was complete, and Ned, on hearing himself read of “in a + book,” waxed indignant and wrathful. In speaking of me he + could not for the life of him express any other idea of my + age and person than that by which he last remembered me. + “What do you think?” he would exclaim, “there's that young + Carleton has put me in a book, and made Nancy leather me!” + Ned survived Nancy several years, and married another wife, + whom I never saw. About twenty-five years ago he went to + America, where he undertook to act as a tanner, and nearly + ruined his employer. After some time he returned, home, and + was forced to mend roads. Towards the close of his life, + however, he contrived to get an ass and cart, and became + egg-merchant, but I believe with his usual success. In this + last capacity, I think about two years ago, he withdrew from + all his cares and speculations, and left behind him the + character of an honest, bustlin, good-humored man, whom + everybody knew and everybody liked, and whose harmless + eccentricities many will long remember with good-humor and + regret. + +“Murdher!” said Ned, astonished, “I beg your honor's pardon; but murdher +alive, sir, where's your whiskers?” + +The stranger put his hand hastily to his face, and smiled--“Where are my +whiskers? Why, shaved off, to be sure,” he replied; and setting spurs to +his horse, was soon out of sight and hearing. + +It was nearly a month after that, when Ned and Nancy, in presence of +Father Deleery, opened the packet, and. discovered, not the half-year's +rent of Lord Non-Resident's estate, but a large sheaf of play-bills +packed up together--their guest having been the identical person to whom +Ned affirmed he bore so strong a resemblance. + + + + +SHANE FADH'S WEDDING. + +On the following evening, the neighbors were soon assembled about +Ned's hearth in the same manner as on the night preceding:--And we may +observe, by the way, that though there was a due admixture of opposite +creeds and conflicting principles, yet even then, and the time is not so +far back, such was their cordiality of heart and simplicity of manners +when contrasted with the bitter and rancorous spirit of the present day +that the very remembrance of the harmony in which they lived is at once +pleasing and melancholy. + +After some preliminary chat, “Well Shane,” said Andy Morrow, addressing +Shane Fadh, “will you give us an account of your wedding? I'm tould it +was the greatest let-out that ever was in the country, before or since.” + +“And you may say that, Mr. Morrow,” said Shane, “I was at many a wedding +myself, but never at the likes of my own, barring Tim Lannigan's, that +married Father Corrigan's niece.” + +“I believe,” said Andy, “that, too, was a dashing one; however, it's +your own we want. Come, Nancy, fill these measures again, and let us be +comfortable, at all events, and give Shane a double one, for talking's +druthy work:--I'll stand this round.” + +When the liquor was got in, Shane, after taking a draught, laid down his +pint, pulled out his steel tobacco-box, and, after twisting off a +chew between his teeth, closed the box, and commenced the story of his +wedding. + +“When I was a Brine-Oge,” * said Shane, “I was as wild as an unbroken +cowlt--no divilment was too hard for me; and so sign's on it, for +there wasn't a piece of mischief done in the parish, but was laid at my +door--and the dear knows I had enough of my own to answer for, let alone +to be set down for that of other people; but, any way, there was many a +thing done in my name, when I knew neither act nor part about it. One +of them I'll mintion: Dick Cuillenan, father to Paddy, that lives at +the crass-roads, beyant Gunpowdher Lodge, was over head and ears in love +with Jemmy Finigan's eldest daughter, Mary, then, sure enough, as purty +a girl as you'd meet in a fair--indeed, I think I'm looking at her, with +her fair flaxen ringlets hanging over her shoulders, as she used to pass +our house, going to mass of a Sunday. God rest her sowl, she's now +in glory--that was before she was my wife. Many a happy day we passed +together; and I could take it to my death, that an ill word, let alone +to rise our hands to one another, never passed between us--only one day, +that a word or two happened about the dinner, in the middle of Lent, +being a little too late, so that the horses were kept nigh half an hour +out of the plough; and I wouldn't have valued that so much, only that it +was Beal Cam** Doherty that joined*** me in ploughing that year--and +I was vexed not to take all I could out of him, for he was a raal Turk +himself. + + * A young man full of fun and frolic. The word literally + signifies Young Brian. Such phrases originate thus:--A young + man remarkable for one or more qualities of a particular + nature becomes so famous for them that his name, in the + course of time, is applied to others, as conveying the same + character. + + ** Crooked mouth. + + ***In Ireland, small farmers who cannot afford to keep more + than one horse are in the habit of “joining,” as it is + termed--that is, of putting their horses together so as to + form a yoke, when they plough each other's farms, working + alternately, sometimes, by the week, half-week, or day; that + is, I plough this day, or this week, and you the next day, + or week, until our crops are got down. In this case, each is + anxious to take as much out of the horses as he can, + especially where the farms are unequal. For instance, where + one farm is larger than another the difference must be paid + by the owner of the larger one in horse-labor, man-labor, or + money; but that he may have as little to pay as possible, he + ploughs as much for himself, by the day, as he can, and + often strives to get the other to do as little per day, on + the other side, in order to diminish what will remain due to + his partner. There is, consequently, a ludicrous + undercurrent of petty jealousy running between them, which + explains the passage in question. + +“I disremember now what passed between us as to words--but I know I +had a duck-egg in my hand, and when she spoke, I raised my arm, and +nailed--poor Larry Tracy, our servant boy, between the two eyes with it, +although the crathur was ating his dinner quietly fornent me, not saying +a word. + +“Well, as I tould you, Dick was ever after her, although her father +and mother would rather see her under boord* than joined to any of that +connection; and as for herself, she couldn't bear the sight of him, he +was sich an upsetting, conceited puppy, that thought himself too good +for every girl. At any rate, he tried often and often, in fair and +market, to get striking up with her; and both coming from and going to +mass, 'twas the same way, for ever after and about her, till the state +he was in spread over the parish like wild fire. Still, all he could do +was of no use; except to bid him the time of day, she never entered into +discoorse with him at all at all. But there was no putting the likes +of him off; so he got a quart of spirits in his pocket, one night, and +without saying a word to mortal, off he sets full speed to her father's, +in order to brake the thing to the family. + + * In that part of the country where the scene of Shane + Fadh's Wedding is laid, the bodies of those who die are not + stretched out on a bed, and the face exposed; on the + contrary, they are placed generally on the ground, or in a + bed, but with a board resting upon two stools or chairs over + them. This is covered with a clean sheet, generally borrowed + from some wealthier neighbor; so that the person of the + deceased is altogether concealed. Over the sheet upon the + board, are placed plates of cut tobacco, pipes, snuff, &c. + This is what is meant by being “undher boord.” + +“Mary might be about seventeen at this time, and her mother looked +almost as young and fresh as if she hadn't been married at all. When +Dick came in, you may be sure they were all surprised at the sight of +him; but they were civil people--and the mother wiped a chair, and put +it over near the fire for him to sit down upon, waiting to hear what +he'd say, or what he wanted, although, they could give a purty good +guess as to that!--but they only wished to put him off with as little +offince as possible. When Dick sot a while, talking about what the price +of hay and oats would be in the following summer, and other subjects +that he thought would show his knowledge of farming and cattle, he pulls +out his bottle, encouraged to by their civil way of talking--and telling +the ould couple, that as he came over on his kailyee,* he had brought +a drop in his pocket to sweeten the discoorse, axing Susy Finigan, the +mother, for a glass to send it round with--at the same time drawing +over his chair close to Mary who was knitting her stocken up beside +her little brother Michael, and chatting to the gorsoon, for fraid that +Cuillenan might think she paid him any attention. + + * Kailyee--a friendly evening visit. + +When Dick got alongside of her, he began of coorse, to pull out her +needles and spoil her knitting, as is customary before the young people +come to close spaking. Mary, howsomever, had no welcome for him; so, +says she, 'You ought to know, Dick Cuillenan, who you spake to, before +you make the freedom you do' + +“'But you don't know, says Dick, 'that I'm a great hand at spoiling the +girls' knitting,--it's a fashion I've got,' says he. + +“'It's a fashion, then,' says Mary, 'that'll be apt to get you a broken +mouth, sometime'.* + + * It is no unusual thing in Ireland for a country girl to + repulse a fellow whom she thinks beneath her, if not by a + flat at least by a flattening refusal; nor is it seldom that + the “argumentum fistycuffum” resorted to on such occasions. + I have more than once seen a disagreeable lover receive, + from that fair hand which he sought, so masterly a blow, + that a bleeding nose rewarded his ambition, and silenced for + a time his importunity. + +“'Then,' says Dick, 'whoever does that must marry me.' + +“'And them that gets you, will have a prize to brag of,' says she; 'stop +yourself, Cuillenan---single your freedom, and double your distance, if +you plase; I'll cut my coat off no such cloth.' + +“'Well, Mary,' says he, 'maybe, if _you_, don't, as good will; but you +won't be so cruel as all that comes to--the worst side of you is out, I +think.' + +“He was now beginning to make greater freedom; but Mary rises from her +seat, and whisks away with herself, her cheek as red as a rose with +vexation at the fellow's imperance. 'Very well,' says Dick, 'off you go; +but there's as good fish in the say as ever was catched.--I'm sorry to +see, Susy,' says he to her mother, 'that Mary's no friend of mine, and +I'd be mighty glad to find it otherwise; for, to tell the truth, I'd +wish to become connected with the family. In the mane time, hadn't +you better get us a glass, till we drink one bottle on the head of it, +anyway.' + +“'Why, then, Dick Cuillenan,' says the mother, 'I don't wish you +anything else than good luck and happiness; but, as to Mary, She's not +for you herself, nor would it be a good match between the families +at all. Mary is to have her grandfather's sixty guineas; and the two +_moulleens_* that her uncle Jack left her four years ago has brought +her a good stock for any farm. Now if she married you, Dick, where's the +farm to bring her to?--surely it's not upon them seven acres of stone +and bent, upon the long Esker,** that I'd let my daughter go to live. +So, Dick, put up your bottle, and in the name of God, go home, boy, and +mind your business; but, above all, when you want a wife, go to them +that you may have a right to expect, and not to a girl like Mary +Finigan, that could lay down guineas where you could hardly find +shillings.' + + * Cows without horns. + + ** Esker; a high ridge of land, generally barren and + unproductive, when upon a small scale. It is also a ridgy + height that runs for many miles through a country. + +“'Very well, Susy,' says Dick, nettled enough, as he well might, 'I +say to you, just as I say to your daughter, if you be proud there's no +force.'” + +“But what has this to do with you, Shane?” asked Andy Morrow; “sure we +wanted to hear an account of your wedding, but instead of that, it's +Dick Cuillenan's history you're giving us.” + +“That's just it,” said Shane; “sure, only for this same Dick, I'd never +got Mary Finigan for a wife. Dick took Susy's advice, bekase, after all, +the undacent drop was in him? or he'd never have brought the bottle +out of the house at all; but, faith he riz up, put the whiskey in his +pocket, and went home with a face on him as black as my hat with venom. +Well, things passed on till the Christmas following, when one night, +after the Finigans had all gone to bed, there comes a crowd of fellows +to the door, thumping at it with great violence, and swearing that if +the people within wouldn't open it immediately, it would be smashed into +smithereens. The family, of coorse, were all alarmed; but somehow or +other, Susy herself got suspicious that it might be something about +Mary, so up she gets, and sends the daughter to her own bed, and lies +down herself in the daughter's. + +“In the mane time, Finigan got up, and after lighting a candle, opened +the door at once. 'Come, Finigan,' says a strange voice, 'put out the +candle, except you wish us to make a candlestick of the thatch,' says +he--'or to give you a prod of a bagnet under the ribs,' says he. + +“It was a folly for one man to go to bell-the-cat with a whole crowd; +so he blew the candle out, and next minute they rushed in, and went as +straight as a rule to Mary's bed. The mother all the time lay close, and +never said a word. At any rate, what could be expected, only that, do +what she could, at the long-run she must go? So according, after a very +hard battle on her side, being a powerful woman, she was obliged to +travel--but not till she had left many of them marks to remimber her by; +among the rest, Dick himself got his nose split on his face, with the +stroke of a churn-staff, so that he carried half a nose on each cheek +till the day of his death. Still there was very little spoke, for +they didn't wish to betray themselves on any side. The only thing that +Finigan could hear, was my name repeated several times, as if the whole +thing was going on under my direction; for Dick thought, that if there +was any one in the parish likely to be set down for it, it was me. + +“When Susy found they were for putting her behind one of them, on a +horse, she rebelled again, and it took near a dozen of boys to hoist her +up; but one vagabone of them, that had a rusty broad-sword in his hand, +gave her a skelp with the flat side of it, that subdued her at once, and +off they went. Now, above all nights in the year, who should be dead but +my own full cousin, Denis Fadh--God be good to him!--and I, and Jack, +and Dan, his brothers, while bringing; home whiskey for the wake and +berrin, met them on the road. At first we thought them distant relations +coming to the wake, but when I saw only one woman among the set, and +she mounted on a horse, I began to suspect that all wasn't right. I +accordingly turned back a bit, and walked near enough without their +seeing me to hear the discoorse, and discover the whole business. In +less than no time I was back at the wake-house, so I up and tould +them what I saw, and off we set, about forty of us, with good cudgels, +scythe-sneds, and flails, fully bent to bring her back from them, come +or go what would. And troth, sure enough, we did it; and I was the man +myself, that rode afore the mother on the same horse that carried her +off. + +“From this out, when and wherever I got an opportunity, I whispered the +soft nonsense, Nancy, into poor Mary's ear, until I put my _comedher_* +on her, and she couldn't live at all without me. But I was something for +a woman to look at then, any how, standing six feet two in my stocking +soles, which, you know, made them call me Shane _Fadh_.** At that time +I had a dacent farm of fourteen acres in Crocknagooran--the same that +my son, Ned, has at the present time; and though, as to wealth, by no +manner of manes fit to compare with the Finigans, yet, upon the whole, +she might have made a worse match. The father, however, wasn't for me; +but the mother was: so after drinking a bottle or two with the mother, +Sarah Traynor, her cousin, and Mary, along with Jack Donnellan, on my +part, in their own barn, unknown to the father, we agreed to make, a +runaway match of it, and appointed my uncle Brian Slevin's as the house +we'd go to. The next Sunday was the day appointed; so I had my uncle's +family prepared, and sent two gallons of whiskey, to be there before us, +knowing that neither the Finigans nor my own friends liked stinginess. + + * Comedher--come hither--alluding to the burden of an old + love-charm which is still used by the young of both sexes on + May-morning. It is a literal translation of the Irish word + “gutsho.” + + ** Fadh is tall, or long + +“Well, well, after all, the world is a strange thing--it's myself hardly +knows what to make of it. It's I that did doat night and day upon that +girl; and indeed there was them that could have seen me in Jimmaiky +for her sake, for she was the beauty of the country, not to say of the +parish, for a girl in her station. For my part, I could neither ate nor +sleep, for thinking that she was so soon to be my own married wife, +and to live under my roof. And when I'd think of it, how my heart would +bounce to my throat, with downright joy and delight! The mother had made +us promise not to meet till Sunday, for fraid of the father becoming +suspicious: but if I was to be shot for it, I couldn't hinder myself +from going every night to the great flowering whitethorn that was behind +their garden; and although she knew I hadn't promised to come, yet there +she still was; something, she said, tould her I would come. + +“The next Sunday we met at _Althadhawan_ wood, and I'll never forget +what I felt when I was going to the green at St. Patrick's Chair, where +the boys and girls meet on Sunday; but there she was--the bright eyes +dancing: with joy in her head to see me. We spent the evening in the +wood, till it was dusk--I bating them all leaping, dancing, and throwing +the stone; for, by my song, I thought I had the action of ten men in +me; she looking on, and smiling like an angel, when I'd lave them miles +behind me. As it grew dusk, they all went home, except herself and me, +and a few more who, maybe, had something of the same kind on hands. + +“'Well Mary,' says I, 'acushla machree, it's dark enough for us to go; +and, in the name of God, let us be off.” + +“The crathur looked into my face, and got pale--for she was very young +then: 'Shane,' says she, and she thrimbled like an aspen lafe, +'I'm going to trust myself with--you for ever--for ever, Shane, +avourueen,--and her sweet voice broke into purty murmurs as she spoke; +'whether for happiness or sorrow God he only knows. I can bear poverty +and distress, sickness and want will' you, but I can't bear to think +that you should ever forget to love me as you do now, or your heart +should ever cool to me: but I'm sure,' says she, 'you'll never forget +this night--and the solemn promises you made me, before God and the +blessed skies above us.' + +“We were sitting at the time under the shade of a rowan-tree, and I had +only one answer to make--I pulled her to my breast, where she laid her +head and cried like a child with her cheek against mine. My own eyes +weren't dry, although I felt no sorrow, but--but--I never forgot that +night--and I never will.” + +He now paused a few minutes, being too much affected to proceed. + +“Poor Shane,” said Nancy, in a whisper to Andy Morrow, “night and day +he's thinking about that woman; she's now dead going on a year, and you +would think by him, although he bears up very well before company +that she died only yestherday--but indeed it's he that was always the +kind-hearted, affectionate man; and a better husband never broke bread.” + +“Well,” said Shane, resuming the story, and clearing his voice, “it's +great consolation to me, now that she's gone, to think that I never +broke the promise I made her that night; for as I tould you, except in +regard to the duck-egg, a bitther word never passed between us. I was +in a passion then, for a wonder, and bent upon showing her that I was a +dangerous man to provoke; so just to give her a _spice_ of what I could +do, I made _Larry_ feel it--and may God forgive me for raising my hand +even then to her. But sure he would be a brute that would beat such +a woman except by proxy. When it was clear dark we set off, and after +crossing the country for two miles, reached my uncle's, where a great +many of my friends were expecting us. As soon as we came to the door I +struck it two or three times, for that was the sign, and my aunt came +out, and taking Mary in her arms, kissed her, and, with a thousand +welcomes, brought us both in. + +“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 kneel + down. In general it is looked upon more in fun than + punishment. Sometimes, however, the wealthier class + compromise this matter with the priest, as described above. + +“'Well, well, your Reverence,' says my uncle, winking at her father, 'if +that's the case, it can't be helped, any how--they must only stand, as +many a dacent father and mother's child has done before them, and will +again, plase God--your Reverence is right in doing your duty.' + +“'True for you, Brian,' says his Reverence, 'and yet, God knows, there's +no man in the parish would be sorrier to see such a dacent, comely young +couple put upon a level with all the scrubs of the parish; and I know, +Jemmy Finigan, it would go hard with your young, bashful daughter to get +through with it, having the eyes of the whole congregation staring on +her.' + +“'Why, then, your Reverence, as to that,' says my uncle, who was just as +stiff as the other was stout, 'the bashfulest of them will do more nor +that to get a husband.' + +“'But you tell me,' says the priest, 'that the wedding-day is fixed +upon; how will you manage there?' + +“'Why, put it off for three Sundays longer, to be sure,' says the uncle. + +“'But you forget this, Brian,' says the priest, 'that good luck or +prosperity never attends the putting off of a wedding.' + +“Now here, you see, is where the priest had them; for they knew that as +well as his Reverence himself--so they were in a puzzle again. + +“'It's a disagreeable business,' says the priest, 'but the truth is, I +could get them off with the bishop, only for one thing--I owe him five +guineas of altar-money, and I am so far back in dues that I'm not able +to pay him. If I could inclose this to him in a letter, I would get them +off at once, although it would be bringing myself into trouble with the +parish afterwards; but, at all events,' says he, 'I wouldn't make every +one of you both--so, to prove that I wish to sarve you, I'll sell the +best cow in my byre, and pay him myself, rather than their wedding +day should be put off, poor things, or themselves brought to any bad +luck--the Lord keep them from it!' + +“While he was speaking, he stamped his foot two or three times on the +flure, and the housekeeper came in.--'Katty,' says he, 'bring us in +a bottle of whiskey; at all events, I can't let you away,' says he, +'without tasting something, and drinking luck to the young folks.' + +“'In troth,' says Jemmy Finigan, 'and begging your Reverence's pardon, +the sorra cow you'll sell this bout, any how, on account of me or my +childhre, bekase I'll lay down on the nail what'll clear you wid the +bishop; and in the name of goodness, as the day is fixed and all, let +the crathurs not be disappointed.' + +“'Jemmy,' says my uncle, 'if you go to that, you'll pay but your share, +for I insist upon laying down one-half, at laste.' + +“At any rate they came down with the cash, and after drinking a bottle +between them, went home in choice spirits entirely at their good luck in +so aisily getting us off. When they had left the house a bit, the priest +sent after them--'Jemmy,' says he to Finigan, 'I forgot a circumstance, +and that is, to tell you that I will go and marry them at your own +house, and bring Father James, my curate with me.' 'Oh, wurrah, no,' +said both, 'don't mention that, your Reverence, except you wish to break +their hearts, out and out! why, that would be a thousand times worse +nor making them stand to do penance: doesn't your Reverence know that +if they hadn't the pleasure of running for the bottle, the whole wedding +wouldn't be worth three half-pence?' 'Indeed, I forgot that, Jemmy.' +'But sure,' says my uncle, 'your Reverence and Father James must be at +it, whether or not--for that we intended from the first.' 'Tell them +I'll run for the bottle, too,' says the priest, laughing, 'and will make +some of them look sharp, never fear.' + +“Well, by my song, so far all was right; and may be it's we that weren't +glad--maning Mary and myself--that there was nothing more in the way to +put off the wedding-day. So, as the bridegroom's share of the expense +always is to provide the whiskey, I'm sure, for the honor and glory of +taking the blooming young crathur from the great lot of bachelors that +were all breaking their hearts about her, I couldn't do less nor finish +the thing dacintly; knowing, besides, the high doings that the Finigans +would have of it--for they were always looked upon as a family that +never had their heart in a trifle, when it would come to the push. So, +you see, I and my brother Mickey, my cousin Tom, and Dom'nick Nulty, +went up into the mountains to Tim Cassidy's still-house, where we spent +a glorious day, and bought fifteen gallons of stuff, that one drop of +it would bring the tear, if possible, to a young widdy's eye that had +berrid a bad husband. Indeed, this was at my father's bidding, who +wasn't a bit behindhand with any of them in cutting a dash. 'Shane,' +says he to me, 'you know the Finigans of ould, that they won't be +contint with what would do another, and that, except they go beyant +the thing, entirely, they won't be satisfied. They'll have the whole +countryside at the wadding, and we must let them see that we have a +spirit and a faction of our own,' says he, 'that we needn't be ashamed +of. They've got all kinds of ateables in cart-loads, and as we're to get +the drinkables, we must see and give as good as they'll bring. I myself, +and your mother, will go round and invite all we can think of, and let +you and Mickey go up the hills to Tim Cassidy, and get fifteen gallons +of whiskey, for I don't think less will do us.' + +“This we accordingly complied with, as I said, and surely better stuff +never went down the red lane (* Humorous periphrasis for throat) than +the same whiskey; for the people knew nothing about watering it then, +at all at all. The next thing I did was to get a fine shop cloth coat, a +pair of top-boots, and buckskin breeches fit for a squire; along with a +new Caroline hat that would throw off the wet like a duck. Mat Kavanagh, +the schoolmaster from Findramore bridge, lent me his watch for the +occasion, after my spending near two days learning from him to know what +o'clock it was. At last, somehow, I masthered that point so well that, +in a quarter of an hour at least, I could give a dacent guess at the +time upon it. + +“Well, at last the day came. The wedding morning, or the bride's part +of it,* as they say, was beautiful. It was then the month of July. The +evening before my father” * and my brother went over to Jemmy Finigan's, +to make the regulations for the wedding. We, that is my party, were to +be at the bride's house about ten o'clock, and we were then to proceed, +all on horseback, to the priest's, to be married. We were then, after +drinking something at Tom Hance's public-house, to come back as far +as the Dumbhill, where we were to start and run for the bottle. That +morning we were all up at the shriek of day. From six o'clock my own +faction, friends and neighbors, began to come, all mounted; and about +eight o'clock there was a whole regiment of them, some on horses, some +on mules, others on raheries** and asses; and, by my word, I believe +little Dick Snudaghan, the tailor's apprentice, that had a hand in +making my wedding-clothes, was mounted upon a buck goat, with a bridle +of salvages tied to his horns. Anything at all to keep their feet from +the ground; for nobody would be allowed to go with the wedding that +hadn't some animal between them and the earth. + + * The morning or early part of the day, on which an Irish + couple are married, up until noon, is called the bride's + part, which, if the fortunes of the pair are to be happy, is + expected to be fair--rain or storm being considered + indicative of future calamity. + + ** A small, shaggy pony, so called from being found in great + numbers on the Island of that name. + +“To make a long story short, so large a bridegroom's party was never +seen in that country before, save and except Tim Lannigans, that I +mentioned just now. It would make you split your face laughing to see +the figure they cut; some of them had saddles and bridles--others had +saddles and halthers; some had back-suggawns of straw, with hay Stirrups +to them, but good bridles; others sacks filled up as like saddles as +they could make them, girthed with hay-ropes five or six times tied +round the horse's body. When one or two of the horses wouldn't carry +double, except the hind rider sat stride-ways, the women had to be put +foremost, and the men behind them. Some had dacent pillions enough, but +most of them had none at all, and the women were obliged to sit where +the pillion ought to be--and a hard card they had to play to keep their +seats even when the horses walked asy, so what must it be when they came +to a gallop! but that same was nothing at all to a trot. + +“From the time they began to come that morning, you may be sartain that +the glass was no cripple, any how--although, for fear of accidents, we +took care not to go too deep. At eight o'clock we sat down to a rousing +breakfast, for we thought it best to eat a trifle at home, lest they +might think that what we were to get at the bride's breakfast might +be thought any novelty. As for my part, I was in such a state, that I +couldn't let a morsel cross my throat, nor did I know what end of me was +uppermost. After breakfast they all got their cattle, and I my hat and +whip, and was ready to mount, when my uncle whispered to me that I must +kneel down and ax my father and mother's blessing, and forgiveness for +all my disobedience and offinces towards them--and also to requist the +blessing of my brothers and sisters. Well, in a short time I was down; +and my goodness! such a hullabaloo of crying as there was in a minute's +time! 'Oh, Shane Fadh--Shane Fadh, acushla machree!' says my poor mother +in Irish, 'you're going to break up the ring about your father's hearth +and mine--going to lave us, avourneen, for ever, and we to hear your +light foot and sweet voice, morning, noon, and night, no more! Oh!' says +she, 'it's you that was the good son all out; and the good brother, too: +kind and cheerful was your voice, and full of love and affection was +your heart! Shane, avourneen dheelish, if ever I was harsh to you, +forgive your poor mother, that will never see you more on her flure as +one of her own family.' + +“Even my father, that wasn't much given to crying', couldn't speak, but +went over to a corner and cried till the neighbors stopped him. As for +my brothers and sisters, they were all in an uproar; and I myself cried +like a Trojan, merely bekase I see them at it. My father and mother both +kissed me, and gave me their blessing; and my brothers and sisters did +the same, while you'd think all their hearts would break. 'Come, come,' +says my uncle, 'I'll have none of this: what a hubbub you make, and your +son going to be well married--going to be joined to a girl that your +betters would be proud to get into connection with. You should have more +sense, Rose Campbell--you ought to thank God that he had the luck to +come acrass such a colleen for a wife; and that it's not going to his +grave, instead of into the arms of a purty girl--and what's better, a +good girl. So quit your blubbering, Rose; and you, Jack,' says he to my +father, 'that ought to have more sense, stop this instant. Clear off, +every one of you, out of this, and let the young boy go to his horse. +Clear out, I say, or by the powers I'll--look at them three stags of +huzzies; by the hand of my body they're blubbering bekase it's not their +own story this blessed day. Move--bounce!--and you, Rose Oge, if you're +not behind Dudley Pulton in less than no time, by the hole of my coat, +I'll marry a wife myself, and then where will the twenty guineas be that +I'm to lave you?' + +“God rest his soul, and yet there was a tear in his eye all the +while--even in spite of his joking! + +“Any how, it's easy knowing that there wasn't sorrow at the bottom of +their grief: for they were all now laughing at my uncle's jokes, even +while their eyes were red with the tears: my mother herself couldn't but +be in a good humor, and join her smile with the rest. + +“My uncle now drove us all out before him; not, however, till my mother +had sprinkled a drop of holy water on each of us, and given me and my +brothers and sisters a small taste of blessed candle, to prevent us from +sudden death and accidents.* My father and she didn't come with as then, +but they went over to the bride's while we were all gone to the priest's +house. At last we set off in great style and spirits--I well mounted on +a good horse of my own, and my brother (On one that he had borrowed from +Peter Dannellon), fully bent on winning the bottle. I would have borrowed +him myself, but I thought it dacenter to ride my own horse manfully, +even though he never won a side of mutton or a saddle, like Dannellon's. +But the man that was most likely to come in for the bottle was little +Billy Cormick, the tailor, who rode a blood-racer that young-John Little +had wickedly lent him for the special purpose; he was a tall bay animal, +with long small legs, a switch tail, and didn't know how to trot. Maybe +we didn't cut a dash--and might have taken a town before us. Out we set +about nine o'clock, and went acrass the country: but I'll not stop to +mintion what happened some of them, even before we got to the bride's +house. It's enough to say here, that sometimes one in crassing a stile +or ditch would drop into the shough;** sometimes another would find +himself head foremost on the ground; a woman would be capsized here in +crassing a ridgy field, bringing her fore-rider to the ground along with +her; another would be hanging like a broken arch, ready to come down, +till some one would ride up and fix her on the seat. But as all this +happened in going over the fields, we expected that when we'd get out +on the king's highway there would be less danger, as we would have no +ditches or drains to crass. When we came in sight of the house, there +was a general shout of welcome from the bride's party, who were on the +watch for us: we couldn't do less nor give them back the chorus; but we +had better have let that alone, for some of the young horses took the +stadh,*** others of them capered about; the asses--the sorra choke +them--that were along with us should begin to bray, as if it was the +king's birthday--and a mule of Jack Urwin's took it into his head to +stand stock still. This brought another dozen of them to the ground; so +that, between one thing or another, we were near half an hour before we +got on the march again. When the blood-horse that the tailor rode saw +the crowd and heard the shouting, he cocked his ears, and set off with +himself full speed; but before he had got far he was without a rider, +and went galloping up to the bride's house, the bridle hangin' about his +feet. Billy, however, having taken a glass or two, wasn't to be cowed: +so he came up in great blood, and swore he would ride him to America, +sooner than let the bottle be won from the bridegroom's party. + + * In many parishes of Ireland a number of small wax candles + are blessed by the priest upon Ash-Wednesday, and these are + constantly worn about the person until that day twelve + months, for the purposes mentioned above. + + ** Dyke or drain. + + *** Became restive. + +“When we arrived, there was nothing but shaking hands and kissing, and +all kinds of _slewsthering_--men kissing men--women kissing women--and +after that men and women all through other. Another breakfast was ready +for us; and here we all sat down; myself and my next relations in the +bride's house, and the others in the barn and garden; for one house +wouldn't hold the half of us. Eating, however, was all only talk: of +coorse we took some of the poteen again, and in a short time afterwards +set off along the paved road to the priest's house, to be tied as fast +as he could make us, and that was fast enough. Before we went out to +mount our horses though, there was just such a hullabaloo with the bride +and her friends as there was with myself: but my uncle soon put a stop +to it, and in five minutes had them breaking their hearts laughing. + +“Bless my heart, what doings! what roasting and boiling!--and what +tribes of beggars and shulers, and vagabonds of all sorts and sizes, +were sunning themselves about the doors wishing us a thousand times long +life and happiness. There was a fiddler and piper: the piper was to stop +in my father-in-law's while we were going to be married, to keep the +neighbors that were met there shaking their toes while we were at the +priest's; and the fiddler was to come with ourselves, in order you know, +to have a dance at the priest's house, and to play for us coming and +going; for there's nothing like a taste of music when one's on for +sport. As we were setting off, ould Mary M'Quade from Kilnahushogue, +who was sent for bekase she understood charms, and had the name of being +lucky, took myself aside: 'Shane Fadh,' says she, 'you're a young man +well to look upon; may God bless you and keep you so; and there's not a +doubt but there's them here that wishes you ill--that would rather be +in your shoes this blessed day, with your young _colleen bawn_, (* Fair +Girl) that will be your wife before the sun sets, plase the heavens. +There's ould Fanny Barton, the wrinkled thief of a hag, that the +Finigans axed here for the sake of her decent son-in-law, who ran away +with her daughter Betty, that was the great beauty some years ago: her +breath's not good, Shane, and many a strange thing's said of her. Well, +maybe, I know more about that nor I'm not going to mintion, any how: +more betoken that it's not for nothing the white hare haunts the +shrubbery behind her house.' + +“'But what harm could she do me, Sonsy Mary?' says I--for she was called +Sonsy--'we have often sarved her one way or other.' + +“Ax me no questions about her, Shane,' says she, 'don't I know what +she did to Ned Donnelly, that was to be pitied, if ever a man was to be +pitied, for as good as seven months after his marriage, until I relieved +him; was gone to a thread he was, and didn't they pay me decently for my +throuble!' + +“'Well, and what am I to do, Mary?' says I, knowing very well that what +she sed was thrue enough, although I didn't wish her to see that I was +afeard. + +“'Why,' says she, 'you must first exchange money with me, and then, if +you do as I bid you you may lave the rest to myself.' + +“'I then took out, begad, a daicent lot of silver--say a crown or +so--for my blood was up and the money was flush--and gave it to her for +which I got a cronagh-bawn* half-penny in exchange. + + * So-called from Cronebane, in the county of Wicklow, where + there is a copper mine. + +“'Now,' says she, 'Shane, you must keep this in your company, and for +your life and sowl, don't part wid it for nine days after your marriage; +but there's more to be done,' says she--'hould out your right knee;' +so with this she unbuttoned three buttons of my buckskins, and made me +loose the knot of my garther on the right leg. 'Now,' says she, 'if you +keep them loose till after the priest says the words, and won't let +the money I gave you go out of your company for nine days, along with +something else I'll do that you're to know nothing about, there's no +fear of all their pisthroges.'* She then pulled off her right shoe, and +threw it after us for luck. + + * Charms of an evil nature. These are ceremonies used by + such women, and believed to be of efficacy by the people. It + is an undoubted fact that the woman here named--and truly + named--was called in by honest Ned Donnelly, who, I believe, + is alive, and could confirm the truth of it. I remember her + well, as I do the occasion on which she was called in by Ned + or his friends. I also remember that a neighbor of ours, a + tailor named Cormick M'Elroy--father, by the way, to little + Billy Cormick, who figures so conspicuously at the wedding-- + called her in to cure, by the force of charms, some cows he + had that were sick. + +“We were now all in motion once more--the bride riding behind my man, +and the bridesmaid behind myself--a fine bouncing girl she was, but +not to be mintioned in the one year with my own darlin'--in troth, it +wouldn't be aisy getting such a couple as we were the same day, though +it's myself that says it. Mary, dressed in a black castor hat, like a +man's, a white muslin coat, with a scarlet silk handkercher about her +neck, with a silver buckle and a blue ribbon, for luck, round her +waist; her fine hair wasn't turned up, at all at all, but hung down in +beautiful curls on her shoulders; her eyes, you would think, were all +light; her lips as plump and as ripe as cherries--and maybe it's myself +that wasn't to that time o' day without tasting them, any how; and her +teeth, so even, and as white as a burned bone. The day bate all for +beauty; I don't know whether it was from the lightness of my own spirit +it came, but, I think, that such a day I never saw from that to this; +indeed, I thought everything was dancing and smiling about me, and +sartinly every one said, that such a couple hadn't been married, nor +such a wedding seen in the parish for many a long year before. + +“All the time, as we went along, we had the music; but then at first we +were mightily puzzled what to do with the fiddler. To put him as a hind +rider it would prevent him from playing, bekase how could he keep the +fiddle before him and another so close to him? To put him foremost was +as bad, for he couldn't play and hould the bridle together; so at last +my uncle proposed that he should get behind himself, turn his face to +the horse's tail, and saw away like a Trojan. + +“It might be about four miles or so to the priest's house, and, as +the day was fine, we' got on gloriously. One thing, however, became +troublesome; you see there was a cursed set of ups and downs on the +road, and as the riding coutrements were so bad with a great many of +the weddiners, those that had no saddles, going down steep places, would +work onward bit by bit, in spite of all they could do, till they'd be +fairly on the horse's neck, and the women behind them would be on the +animal's shoulders; and it required nice managing to balance themselves, +for they might as well sit on the edge of a dale board. Many of them got +tosses this way, though it all passed in good humor. But no two among +the whole set were more puzzled by this than my uncle and the fiddler--I +think I see my uncle this minute with his knees sticking into the +horse's shoulders, and his two hands upon his neck, keeping himself +back, with a _cruiht_* upon him, and the fiddler with his heels away, +towards the horse's tail, and he stretched back against my uncle, for +all the world like two bricks laid against one another, and one of them +falling. 'Twas the same thing going up a hill; whoever was behind, would +be hanging over the horse's tail, with the arm about the fore-rider's +neck or body, and the other houlding the baste by the mane, to keep +them both from sliding off backwards. Many a come-down there was among +them--but, as I said, it was all in good humor; and, accordingly, as +regularly as they fell, they were sure to get a cheer. + + * The hump, which constitutes a round-shouldered man. If the + reader has ever seen Hogarth's Illustrations of Hudibras, + and remembers the redoubtable hero as he sits on horseback, + he will be at no loss in comprehending what a cruiht means. + _Cruiht_ is the Irish for harp, and the simile is taken from + the projection between the shoulders of the harper which was + caused by carrying that instrument. + +“When we got to the priest's house, there was a hearty welcome for us +all. The bride and I, with our next kindred and friends, went into the +parlor; along with these, there was a set of young fellows, who had been +bachelors of the bride's, that got in with an intention of getting the +first kiss* and, in coorse, of bating myself out of it. I got a whisper +of this; so by my song, I was determined to cut them all out in that, +as well as I did in getting herself; but you know, I couldn't be angry, +even if they had got the foreway of me in it, bekase it's an ould +custom. While the priest was going over the business, I kept my eye +about me, and sure enough, there were seven or eight fellows all waiting +to snap at her. When the ceremony drew near a close, I got up on one +leg, so that I could bounce to my feet like lightning, and when it was +finished, I got her in my arm, before you could say Jack Robinson, and +swinging her behind the priest, gave her the husband's first kiss. The +next minute there was a rush after her; but, as I had got the first, +it was but fair that they should come in according as they could, I +thought, bekase, you know, it was all in the coorse of practice; but, +hould, there were two words to be said to that, for what does Father +Dollard do but shoves them off, and a fine stout shoulder he had--shoves +them off, like childre, and getting his arms about Mary, gives her half +a dozen smacks at least--oh, consuming to the one less--that mine was +only a cracker** to. The rest, then, all kissed her, one after another, +according as they could come in to get one. We then went straight to his +Reverence's barn, which had been cleared out for us the day before, by +his own directions, where we danced for an hour or two, his Reverence +and his Curate along with us. + + * There is always a struggle for this at an Irish wedding, + where every man is at liberty--even the priest himself--to + anticipate the bridegroom if he can. + + + ** Cracker is the small, hard cord which is tied to a rustic + whip, in order to make it crack. When a man is considered to + be inferior to another in anything, the people say, “he + wouldn't make a cracker to his whip.” + +“When this was over we mounted again, the fiddler taking his ould +situation behind my uncle. You know it is usual, after getting the knot +tied, to go to a public-house or shebeen, to get some refreshment +after the journey; so, accordingly, we went to little lame Larry +Spooney's--grandfather to him that was transported the other day for +staling Bob Beaty's sheep; he was called Spooney himself, for his +sheep-stealing, ever since Paddy Keenan made the song upon him, ending +with 'his house never wants a good ram-horn spoon;' so that let people +say what they will, these things run in the blood--well, we went to his +shebeen house, but the tithe of us couldn't get into it; so we sot on +the green before the door, and, by my song, we took (* drank) dacently +with him, any how; and, only for my uncle, it's odds but we would have +been all fuddled. + +“It was now that I began to notish a kind of coolness between my party +and the bride's, and for some time I didn't know what to make of it--I +wasn't long so, however; for my uncle, who still had his eye about +him, comes over to me, and says, 'Shane, I doubt there will be bad +work amongst these people, particularly betwixt the Dorans and the +Flannagans--the truth is, that the old business of the law-shoot will +break out, except they're kept from drink, take my word for it, there +will be blood spilled. The running for the bottle will be a good +excuse,' says he, 'so I think we had better move home before they go too +far in the drink.' + +“Well, any way, there was truth in this; so, accordingly, the reckoning +was ped, and, as this was the thrate of the weddiners to the bride and +bridegroom, every one of the men clubbed his share, but neither I +nor the girls anything. Ha--ha--ha! Am I alive at all? I +never--ha--ha--ha--!--I never laughed so much in one day as I did in +that, today I can't help laughing at it yet. Well, well! when we all got +on the top of our horses, and sich other iligant cattle as we had--the +crowning of a king was nothing to it. We were now purty well I thank +you, as to liquor; and, as the knot was tied, and all safe, there was no +end to our good spirits; so, when we took the road, the men were in high +blood, particularly Billy Cormick, the tailor, who had a pair of long +cavalry spurs upon him, that he was scarcely able to walk in--and he +not more nor four feet high. The women, too, were in blood, having +faces upon them, with the hate of the day and the liquor, as full as +trumpeters. + +“There was now a great jealousy among thim that were bint for winning +the bottle; and when one horseman would cross another, striving to have +the whip hand of him when they'd set off, why you see, his horse would +get a cut of the whip itself for his pains. My uncle and I, however, +did all we could to pacify them; and their own bad horsemanship, and +the screeching of the women, prevented any strokes at that time. Some of +them were ripping up ould sores against one another as they went along; +others, particularly the youngsters, with their sweethearts behind them, +coorting away for the life of them, and some might be heard miles off, +singing and laughing; and you may be sure the fiddler behind my uncle +wasn't idle, no more nor another. In this way we dashed on gloriously, +till we came in sight of the Dumb-hill, where we were to start for the +bottle. And now you might see the men themselves on their saddles, sacks +and suggans; and the women tying kerchiefs and shawls about their caps +and bonnets, to keep them from flying off, and then gripping their +fore-riders hard and fast by the bosoms. When we got to the Dumb-hill, +there were five or six fellows that didn't come with us to the priest's, +but met us with cudgels in their hands, to prevent any of them from +starting before the others, and to show fair play. + +“Well, when they were all in a lump,--horses, mules, raheries, and +asses--some, as I said, with saddles, some with none; and all jist as I +tould you before;--the word was given and off they scoured, myself along +with the rest; and divil be off me, if ever I saw such another sight but +itself before or since. Off they skelped through thick and thin, in a +cloud of dust like a mist about us; but it was a mercy that the life +wasn't trampled out of some of us; for before we had gone fifty perches, +the one-third of them were sprawling a-top of one another on the road. +As for the women, they went down right and left--sometimes bringing the +horsemen with them; and many of the boys getting black eyes and bloody +noses on the stones. Some of them, being half blind with the motion of +the whiskey, turned off the wrong way, and galloped on, thinking they +had completely distanced the crowd; and it wasn't until they cooled a +bit that they found out their mistake. + +[Illustration: PAGE 693-- How he kept his sate so long has puzzled me] + +“But the best sport of all was, when they came to the Lazy Corner, just +at Jack Gallagher's flush,* where the water came out a good way acrass +the road; being in such a flight, they either forgot or didn't know how +to turn the angle properly, and plash went above thirty of them, coming +down right on the top of one another, souse in the pool. By this time +there was about a dozen of the best horsemen a good distance before the +rest, cutting one another up for the bottle: among these were the Dorans +and Flanagans; but they, you see, wisely enough, dropped their women at +the beginning, and only rode single. I myself didn't mind the bottle, +but kept close to Mary, for fraid that among sich a divil's pack of +half-mad fellows, anything might happen her. At any rate, I was next the +first batch: but where do you think the tailor was all this time? Why +away off like lightning, miles before them--flying like a swallow: and +how he kept his sate so long has puzzled me from that day to this; but, +any how, truth's best--there he was topping the hill ever so far before +them. After all, the unlucky crathur nearly missed the bottle; for when +he turned to the bride's house, instead of pulling up as he ought to +do--why, to show his horsemanship to the crowd that was out looking at +them, he should begin to cut up the horse right and left, until he +made him take the garden ditch in full flight, landing him among the +cabbages. About four yards or five from the spot where the horse lodged +himself was a well, and a purty deep one, by my word; but not a sowl +present could tell what become of the tailor, until Owen Smith chanced +to look into the well, and saw his long spurs just above the water; so +he was pulled up in a purty pickle, not worth the washing; but what did +he care? although he had a small body, the sorra one of him but had a +sowl big enough for Golias or Sampson the Great. + + * Flush is a pool of water that spreads nearly across a + road. It is usually fed by a small mountain stream, and in + consequence of rising and falling rapidly, it is called + “Flash.” + +“As soon as he got his eyes clear, right or wrong, he insisted on +getting the bottle: but he was late, poor fellow, for before he got +out of the garden, two of them comes up--Paddy Doran and Peter +Flanagan--cutting one another to pieces, and not the length of your nail +between them. Well, well, that was a terrible day, sure enough. In the +twinkling of an eye they were both off the horses, the blood streaming +from their bare heads, struggling to take the bottle from my father, who +didn't know which of them to give it to. He knew if he'd hand it to +one, the other would take offince, and then he was in a great puzzle, +striving to raison with them; but long Paddy Doran caught it while he +was spaking to Flanagan, and the next instant Flanagan measured him with +a heavy loaded whip, and left, him stretched upon the stones.--And now +the work began: for by this time the friends of both parties came up +and joined them. Such knocking down, such roaring among the men, and +screeching and clapping of hands and wiping of heads among the women, +when a brother, or a son, or a husband would get his gruel! Indeed, out +of a fair, I never saw anything to come up to it. But during all this +work, the busiest man among the whole set was the tailor, and what was +worst of all for the poor creature, he should single himself out against +both parties, bekase you see he thought they were cutting him out of his +right to the bottle. + +“They had now broken up the garden gate for weapons, all except one of +the posts, and fought into the garden; when nothing should sarve Billy, +but to take up the large heavy post, as if he could destroy the whole +faction on each side. Accordingly he came up to big Matthew Flanagan, +and was rising it just as if he'd fell him, when Matt, catching him by +the nape of the neck, and the waistband of the breeches, went over very +quietly, and dropped him a second time, heels up, into the well; where +he might have been yet, only for my mother-in-law, who dragged him out +with a great deal to do: for the well was too narrow to give him room to +turn. + +“As for myself and all my friends, as it happened to be my own wedding, +and at our own place, we couldn't take part with either of them; but we +endeavored all in our power to red (* Pacify or separate) them, and a +tough task we had of it, until we saw a pair of whips going hard and +fast among them, belonging to Father Corrigan and Father James, his +curate. Well, its wonderful how soon a priest can clear up a quarrel! In +five minutes there wasn't a hand up--instead of that they were ready to +run into mice-holes:-- + +“'What, you murderers,' says his Reverence, 'are you bint to have each +other's blood upon your heads; ye vile infidels, ye cursed unchristian +Anthemtarians?* are ye going to get yourself hanged like sheep-stalers? +down with your sticks, I command you: do you know--will you give +yourselves time to see who's spaking to you--you bloodthirsty set of +Episcopalians? I command you, in the name of the Catholic Church and the +Blessed Virgin Mary, to stop this instant, if you don't wish me,' +says he, 'to turn you into stocks and stones where you stand, and make +world's wonders of you as long as you live.--Doran, if you rise your +hand more, I'll strike it dead on your body, and to your mouth you'll +never carry it while you have breath in your carcass,' says he.--'Clear +off, you Flanagans, you butchers you--or by St. Domnick I'll turn the +heads round upon your bodies, in the twinkling of an eye, so that you'll +not be able to look a quiet Christian in the face again. Pretty respect +you have for the decent couple at whose house you have kicked up such +a hubbub. Is this the way people are to be deprived of their dinners on +your accounts, you fungaleering thieves!' + + * Antitrinitarians; the peasantry are often extremely fond + of hard and long words, which they call tall English. + +“'Why then, plase your Riverence, by the--hem--I say Father Corrigan, it +wasn't my fault, but that villain Flanagan's, for he knows I fairly +won the bottle--and would have distanced him, only that when I was far +before him, the vagabone, he galloped across me on the way, thinking to +thrip up the horse.' + +“'You lying scoundrel,' says the priest, 'how dare you tell me a +falsity,' says he, 'to my face? how could he gallop acrass you if you +were far before him? Not a word more, or I'll leave you without a mouth +to your face, which will be a double share of provision and bacon saved +any way. And, Flanagan, you were as much to blame as he, and must be +chastised for your raggamuffianly conduct,' says he, 'and so must you +both, and all your party, particularly you and be, as the ringleaders. +Right well I know it's the grudge upon the lawsuit you had and not the +bottle, that occasioned it: but by St. Peter, to Loughderg both of you +must tramp for this.' + +“'Ay, and by St. Pether, they both desarve it as well as a thief does +the gallows,' said a little blustering voice belonging to the tailor, +who came forward in a terrible passion, looking for all the world like +a drowned rat. 'Ho, by St. Pether, they do, the vagabones; for it was +myself that won the bottle, your Reverence; and by this and by that,' +says he, 'the bottle I'll have, or some of their crowns, will crack for +it: blood or whiskey I'll have, your Reverence, and I hope that you'll +assist me. + +“'Why, Billy, are you here?' says Father Corrigan, smiling down upon +the figure the little fellow cut, with his long spurs and his big whip; +'what in the world tempted you to get on horseback, Billy?' + +“'By the powers, I was miles before them,' says Billy; 'and after this +day, your Reverence, let no man say that I couldn't ride a steeplechase +across Crocknagooran.' + +“'Why, Billy, how did you stick on at all, at all?' says his Reverence. + +“'How do I know how I stuck on?' says Billy, 'nor whether I stuck on +at all or not; all I know is, that I was on horseback leaving the +Dumb-hill, and that I found them pulling me by the heels out of the well +in the corner of the garden--and that, your Reverence, when the first +was only topping the hill there below, as Lanty Magowran tells me who +was looking on.' + +“'Well, Billy,' says Father Corrigan, 'you must get the bottle; and as +for you Dorans and Flanagans, I'll make examples of you for this day's +work--that you may reckon on. You are a disgrace to the parish, and, +what's more, a disgrace to your priest. How can luck or grace attind the +marriage of any young couple that there's such work at? Before you leave +this, you must all shake hands, and promise never to quarrel with each +other while grass grows or water runs; and if you don't, by the blessed +St. Domnick, I'll exkimnicate* ye both, and all belonging to you into +the bargain; so that ye'll be the pitiful examples and shows to all that +look upon you.' + + * Excommunicate. It is generally pronounced as above by the people. + +“'Well, well, your Reverence,' says my father-in-law, 'let all by-gones be +by-gones; and please God, they will, before they go, be better friends +than ever they were. Go now an' clane yourselves, take the blood from +about your faces, for the dinner's ready an hour agone; but if you all +respect the place you're in, you'll show it, in regard of the young +crathurs that's going, in the name of God, to face the world together, +and of coorse wishes that this day at laste should pass in pace and +quietness: little did I think there was any friend or neighbor here that +would make so little of the place or people, as was done for nothing at +all, in the face of the country.' + +“'God he sees,' says my mother-in-law, 'that there's them here this day +we didn't desarve this from, to rise such a _norration_, as if the house +was a shebeen or a public-house! It's myself didn't think either me or +my poor coolleen here, not to mention the dacent people she's joined +to, would be made so little of, as to have our place turned into a +play-acthur--for a play-acthur couldn't be worse.' + +“'Well,' says my uncle, 'there's no help for spilt milk, I tell you, +nor for spilt blood either; tare-an-ounty, sure we're all Irishmen, +relations, and Catholics through other, and we oughtn't to be this way. +Come away to the dinner--by the powers, we'll duck the first man that +says a loud word for the remainder of the day. Come, Father Corrigan, +and carve the goose, or the geese, for us--for, by my sannies, I bleeve +there's a baker's dozen of them; but we've plenty of Latin for them, +and your Reverence and Father James here understands that langidge, any +how--larned enough there, I think, gintlemen.' + +“'That's right, Brian,' shouts the tailor--'that's right; there must +be no fighting: by the powers, the first man attempts it, I'll brain +him--fell him to the earth like an ox, if all belonging to him was in my +way.' + +“This threat from the tailor went farther, I think, in putting them into +good humor nor even what the priest said. They then washed and claned +themselves, and accordingly went to their dinners.--Billy himself +marched with his terrible whip in his hand, and his long cavalry +spurs sticking near ten inches behind him, draggled to the tail like a +bantling cock after a shower. But, maybe, there was more draggled tails +and bloody noses nor poor Billy's, or even nor was occasioned by the +fight; for after Father Corrigan had come, several of them dodged up, +some with broken shins and heads and wet clothes, that they'd got on +the way by the mischances of the race, particularly at the Flush. But +I don't know how it was; somehow the people in them days didn't value +these things a straw. They were far hardier then nor they are now, and +never went to law at all at all. Why, I've often known skulls to be +broken, and the people to die afterwards, and there would be nothing +more about it, except to brake another skull or two for it; but neither +crowner's quest, nor judge, nor jury, was ever troubled at all about it. +And so sign's on it, people were then innocent, and not up to law and +counsellors as they are now. If a person happened to be killed in a +fight at a fair or market, why he had only to appear after his death to +one of his friends, and get a number of masses offered up for his sowl, +and all was right; but now the times are clane altered, and there's +nothing but hanging and transporting for such things; although that +won't bring the people to life again.” + +“I suppose,” said Andy Morrow, “you had a famous dinner, Shane?” + +“'Tis you that may say that, Mr. Morrow,” replied Shane: “but the house, +you see, wasn't able to hould one-half of us; so there was a dozen or +two tables borrowed from the neighbors and laid one after another in two +rows, on the green, beside the river that ran along the garden-hedge, +side by side. At one end Father Corrigan sat, with Mary and myself, and +Father James at the other. There were three five-gallon kegs of whiskey, +and I ordered my brother to take charge of them; and there he sat beside +them, and filled the bottles as they were wanted--bekase, if he had left +that job to strangers, many a spalpeen there would make away with lots +of it. Mavrone, such a sight as the dinner was! I didn't lay my eye on +the fellow of it since, sure enough, and I'm now an ould man, though +I was then a young one. Why there was a pudding boiled in the end of a +sack; and troth it was a thumper, only for the straws--for you see, when +they were making it, they had to draw long straws acrass in order to +keep, it from falling asunder--a fine plan it is, too. Jack M'Kenna, the +carpenther, carved it with a hand-saw, and if he didn't curse the same +straws, I'm not here. 'Draw them out, Jack,' said Father Corrigan--'draw +them out.--It's asy known, Jack, you never ate a polite dinner, you poor +awkward spalpeen, or you'd have pulled out the straws the first thing +you did, man alive.' + +“Such lashins of corned beef, and rounds of beef, and legs of mutton, +and bacon--turkeys and geese, and barn-door fowls, young and fat. They +may talk as they will, but commend me to a piece of good ould bacon, +ate with crock butther, and phaties, and cabbage. Sure enough, they +leathered away at everything, but this and the pudding were the +favorites. Father Corrigan gave up the carving in less than no time, for +it would take him half a day to sarve them all, and he wanted to provide +for number one. After helping himself, he set my uncle to it, and maybe +he didn't slash away right and left. There was half a dozen gorsoons +carrying about the beer in cans, with froth upon it like barm--but that +was beer in airnest, Nancy--I'll say no more.” + +“When the dinner was over, you would think there was as much left as +would sarve a regiment; and sure enough, a right hungry ragged regiment +was there to take care of it--though, to tell the truth, there was as +much taken into Finigan's as would be sure to give us all a rousing +supper. Why, there was such a troop of beggars--men, women, and +childher, sitting over on the sunny side of the ditch, as would make +short work of the whole dinner, had they got it. Along with Father +Corrigan and me, was my father and mother, and Mary's parents; my uncle, +cousins, and nearest relations on both sides. Oh, it's Father Corrigan, +God rest his sowl, he's now in glory, and so he was then, also--how he +did crow and laugh! 'Well, Matthew Finigan,' says-he, 'I can't say but +I'm happy that your Colleen Bawn here has lit upon a husband that's no +discredit to the family--and it is herself didn't drive her pigs to +a bad market,' says he. 'Why, in troth, Father avourneen,' says my +mother-in law, 'they'd be hard to plase that couldn't be satisfied with +them she got; not saying but she had her pick and choice of many a +good offer, and might have got richer matches; but Shane Fadh M'Cawell +although you're sitting there beside my daughter, I'm prouder to see you +on my own flure, the husband of my child, nor if she'd got a man with +four times your substance.' + +“'Never heed the girls for knowing where to choose,' says his Reverence, +slyly enough: 'but, upon my word, only she gave us all the slip, to tell +the truth, I had another husband than Shane in my eye for her, and that +was my own nevvy, Father James's brother here.' + +“'And I'd be proud of the connection,' says my father-in-law, 'but you +see, these girls won't look much to what you or I'll say, in choosin' a +husband for themselves. How-and-iver, not making little of your nevvy, +Father Michael, I say he's not to be compared with that same bouchal +sitting beside Mary there.' + +“'No, nor by the powdhers-o-war, never will,' says Billy M'Cormick the +tailor, who had come over and slipped in on the other side betune Father +Corrigan and the bride--'by the powdhers-o' war, he'll never be fit to +be compared with me, I tell you, till yesterday comes back again.' + +“'Why, Billy,' says the priest, 'you're every place.' 'But where I ought +to be!' says Billy; 'and that's hard and fast tackled to Mary Bane, the +bride here, instead of that steeple of a fellow she has got,' says the +little cock. + +“'Billy, I thought you were married,' said Father Corrigan. + +“'Not I, your Reverence,' says Billy;' but I'll soon do something, +Father Michael--I have been threatening this longtime, but I'll do it at +last' + +“'He's not exactly married, Sir, says my uncle 'but there's a colleen +present' (looking at the bridesmaid) 'that will soon have his name upon +her.' + +“'Very good, Billy,' says the priest, 'I hope you will give us a rousing +wedding-equal, at least, to Shane Fadh's.' + +“'Why then, your Reverence, except I get sich a darling as Molly +Bane, here--and by this and that, it's you that is the darling Molly +asthore--what come over me, at all at all, that I didn't think of +you,' says the little man, drawing close to her, and poor Mary smiling +good-naturedly at his spirit. + +“'Well, and what if you did get such a darling as Molly Bane, there?' +says his Reverence. + +“'Why, except I get the likes of her for a wife--upon second thoughts, +I don't like marriage, any way,' said Billy, winking against the +priest--'I lade such a life as your Reverence; and by the powdhers, it's +a thousand pities that I wasn't made into a priest, instead of a tailor. +For, you see, if I had' says he, giving a verse of an old song-- + + 'For you see, if I had, + It's I'd be the lad + That would show all my people such larning; + And when they'd do wrong, + Why, instead of a song, + I'd give them a lump of a sarmin.' + +“'Billy,' says my father-in-law, 'why don't you make a hearty dinner, +man alive? go back to your sate and finish your male--you're aiting +nothing to signify.' 'Me!' says Billy--'why, I'd scorn to ate a hearty +dinner; and, I'd have you to know, Matt Finigan, that it wasn't for +the sake of your dinner I came here, but in regard to your family, and +bekase I wished him well that's sitting beside your daughter: and it ill +becomes your father's son to cast up your dinner in my face, or any one +of my family; but a blessed minute longer I'll not stay among you. Give +me your hand, Shane Fadh, and you, Mary--may goodness grant you pace +and happiness every night and day you both rise out of your beds. I made +that coat your husband has on his back beside you--and a, betther fit +was never made; but I didn't think it would come to my turn to have my +dinner cast up this a-way, as if I was aiting it for charity.' + +“'Hut, Billy,' says I, 'sure it was all out of kindness; he didn't mane +to offind you.' + +“'It's no matter,' says Billy, beginning to cry, 'he did offend me; and +it's, low days with me to bear an affront from him, or the likes of +him; but by the powdhers-o'-war,' says he, getting into a great rage, +'I won't bear it,--only as you're an old man yourself, I'll not rise +my hand to you; but, let any man now that has the heart to take up your +quarrel, come out and stand before me on the sod here.' + +“Well, by this time, you'd tie all that were present with three straws, +to see Billy stripping himself, and his two wrists not thicker than +drumsticks. While the tailor was raging, for he was pretty well up with +what he had taken, another person made his appearance at the far end of +the boreen* that led to the green where we sot. He was mounted upon the +top of a sack that was upon the top of a sober-looking baste enough--God +knows; he jogging along at his ase, his legs dangling down from the sack +on each side, and the long skirts of his coat hanging down behind him. +Billy was now getting pacified, bekase they gave way to him a little; +so the fun went round, and they sang, roared, danced, and coorted, right +and left. + + * A small pathway or bridle road leading to a farm-house. + +“When the stranger came as far as the skirt of the green, he turned +the horse over quite nathural to the wedding; and, sure enough, when he +jogged up, it was Friar Rooney himself, with a sack of oats, for he had +been _questin_.* Well, sure the ould people couldn't do less nor all +go over to put the _failtah_** on him. 'Why, then,' says my father and +mother-in-law, ''tis yourself, Friar Rooney, that's as welcome as the +flowers of May; and see who's here before you--Father Corrigan, and +Father Dollard.' + + * Questin--When an Irish priest or friar collects corn or + money from the people in a gratuitous manner, the act is + called “questin.” + + ** Welcome. + +“'Thank you, thank you, Molshy--thank you, Matthew--troth, I know that +'tis I am welcome.' + +“'Ay, and you're welcome again, Father Rooney,' said my father, going +down and shaking hands with him, 'and I'm proud to see you here. Sit +down, your Reverence--here's everything that's good, and plinty of it, +and if you don't make much of yourself, never say an ill fellow dealt +with you.' + +“The friar stood while my father was speaking, with a pleasant, +contented face upon him, only a little roguish and droll. + +“'Hah! Shane Fadh,' says he, smiling dryly at me, 'you did them all, I +see. You have her there, the flower of the parish, blooming beside +you; but I knew as much six months ago, ever since I saw you bid her +good-night at the hawthorn. Who looked back so often, Mary, eh? Ay, +laugh and blush--do--throth, 'twas I that caught you, but you didn't see +me, though. Well, a colleen, and if you did, too, you needn't be ashamed +of your bargain, any how. You see, the way I came to persave yez that +evening was this--but I'll tell it, by and by. In the mane time,' says +he, sitting down and attacking a fine piece of corn-beef and greens, +'I'll take care of a certain acquaintance of mine,' says he. 'How are +you, reverend gintlemen of the Secularily? You'll permit a poor friar to +sit and ate his dinner, in your presence, I humbly hope.' + +“'Frank,' says Father Corrigan, 'lay your hand upon your conscience, or +upon your stomach, which is the same thing, and tell us honestly, how +many dinners you eat on your travels among my parishioners this day.' + +“'As I'm a sinner, Michael, this is the only thing to be called a dinner +I eat this day;--Shane Fadh--Mary, both your healths, and God grant +you all kinds of luck and happiness, both here and hereafter! All your +healths in gineral! gintlemen seculars!' + +“'Thank you, Frank,' said Father Corrigan; how did you speed to-day?' + +“'How can any man speed, that comes after you?' says the Friar; 'I'm +after travelling the half of the parish for that poor bag of oats that +you see standing against the ditch.' + +“'In other words, Frank,' says the Priest, 'you took Allhadhawan in your +way, and in about half a dozen houses filled your sack, and then turned +your horse's head towards the good cheer, by way of accident only.' + +“'And was it by way of accident, Mr. Secular, that I got you and that +illoquent young gintleman, your curate, here before me? Do you feel +that, man of the world? Father James, your health, though--you're a good +young man as far as saying nothing goes; but it's better to sit still +than to rise up and fall, so I commend you for your discretion,' says +he; 'but I'm afeared your master there won't make you much fitter for +the kingdom of heaven any how.' + +“'I believe, Father Corrigan,' says my uncle, who loved to see the +priest and the friar at it, 'that you've met with your match--I think +Father Rooney's able for you.' + +“'Oh, sure,' says Father Corrigan, he was joker to the college of the +Sorebones (* Sorbonne) in Paris; he got as much education as enabled him +to say mass in Latin, and to beg oats in English, for his jokes.' + +“'Troth, and,' says the friar, 'if you were to get your larning on the +same terms, you'd be guilty of very little knowledge; why, Michael, +I never knew you to attempt a joke but once, and I was near shedding +tears, there was something so very sorrowful in it.' + +“This brought the laugh against the priest--'Your health, Molshy,' +says he, winking at my mother-in-law, and then giving my uncle, who sat +beside him, a nudge; 'I believe, Brian, I'm giving it to him.' ''Tis +yourself that is,' says my uncle; 'give him a wipe or two more.' 'Wait +till he answers the last,' says the friar. + +“'He's always joking,' says Father James, 'when he thinks he'll make any +thing by it.' + +“'Ah!' says the friar, 'then God help you both if you were left to your +jokes for your feeding; for a poorer pair of gentlemen wouldn't be found +in Christendom.' + +“'And I believe,' says Father Corrigan, 'if you depinded for your +feeding upon your divinity instead of your jokes, you'd be as poor as a +man in the last stage of a consumption.' + +“This drew the laugh against the friar, who smiled himself; but he was a +dry man that never laughed much. + +“'Sure,' says the friar, who was seldom at a loss, 'I have yourself +and your nephew for examples that it's possible to live and be well fed +without divinity.' + +“'At any rate,' says my uncle, putting in his tongue, 'I think you're +both very well able to make divinity a joke betune you,' says he. + +“'Well done, Brian,' says the friar, 'and so they are, for I believe it +is the only subject they can joke upon! and I beg your pardon, +Michael, for not excepting it before; on that subject I allow you to be +humorsome.' + +“'If that be the case, then,' says Father Corrigan, 'I must give up your +company, Frank, in order to avoid the force of bad example; for you're +so much in the habit of joking on everything else, that you're not able +to accept even divinity itself.' + +“'You may aisily give me up,' says the friar, 'but how will you be able +to forget Father Corrigan? I'm afeard you'll find his acquaintance as +great a detriment to yourself, as it is to others in that respect.' + +“'What makes you say,' says Father James, who was more in airnest than +the rest, 'that my uncle won't make me fit for the kingdom of heaven?' + +“'I had a pair of rasons for it, Jemmy,' says the friar; 'one is, that +he doesn't understand the subject himself; another is, that you haven't +capacity for it, even if he did. You've a want of natural parts--a +_whackuuum_ here' pointing to his forehead. + +“'I beg your pardon, Frank,' says Father James 'I deny your premises, +and I'll now argue in Latin with you, if you wish, upon any subject you +please.' + +“'Come, then,' says the friar,--'Kid eat ivy mare eat hay.' + +“'Kid--what?' says the other. + +“'Kid eat ivy mare eat hay,' answers the friar. + +“'I don't know what you're at,' says Father James, 'but I'll argue in +Latin with you as long as you wish.' + +“'Tut man,' says Father Rooney, 'Latin's for school-boys; but come, now, +I'll take you in another language--I'll try you in Greek--_In-mud-eel-is +in-clay-none-is in-fir-tar-is in-oak-no ne-is_.' + +“The curate looked at him, amazed, not knowing what answer to make. +At last says he, 'I don't profess to know Greek, bekase I never larned +it--but stick to the Latin, and I'm not afeard of you.' + +“'Well, then,' says the friar, 'I'll give you a trial at that--Afflat te +canis ter--Forte dux fel flat in guttur.' + +“'A flat tay-canisther--Forty ducks fell flat in the gutthers!' says +Father James,--'why that's English!' + +“'English!' says the friar, 'oh, good-bye to you, Mr. Secular; 'if +that's your knowledge of Latin, you're an honor to your tachers and to +your cloth.' + +“Father Corrigan now laughed heartily at the puzzling the friar gave +Father James. 'James,' says he, 'never heed him; he's only pesthering +you with bog-Latin; but, at any rate to do him justice, he's not a +bad Scholar, I can tell you that.... Your health, Prank, you droll +crathur--your health. I have only one fault to find with you, and +that is, that you fast and mortify yourself too much. Your fasting has +reduced you from being formerly a friar of very genteel dimensions to +a cut of corpulency that smacks strongly of penance--fifteen stone at +least. + +“'Why,' says the friar, looking down quite plased, entirely, at the +cut of his own waist, Uch, among ourselves, was no trifle, and giving a +growl of a laugh--the most he ever gave, 'if what you pray here benefits +you in the _next life_ as much as what _I fast_ does for me _in this_, +it will be well for the world in general Michael.' + +“'How can you say, Frank,' says Father 'with such a carkage as that, +you're a poor friar? Upon my credit, when you die, I think the angels +will have a job of it in wafting you upwards.” + +“'Jemmy, man, was it _you_ that said it?--why, my light's beginning to +shine upon you, or you never could have got out so much,' says Father +Rooney, putting his hands over his brows, and looking up toardst him; +'but if you ever read scripthur, which I suppose you're not overburdened +with, you would know that it says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” but +not blessed are the poor in flesh--now, mine is spiritual poverty.' + +“'Very true, Frank,' says Father Corrigan, 'I believe there's a great +dearth and poverty of spirituality about you, sure enough. But of +all kinds of poverty, commend me to a friar's. Voluntary poverty's +something, but it's the divil entirely for a man to be poor against his +will. You friars boast of this voluntary poverty; but if there's a fat +bit in any part of the parish, we, that are the lawful clargy, can't +eat it, but you're sure to drop in, just in the nick of time, with your +voluntary poverty.' + +“'I'm sure, if we do,' says the friar, 'it's nothing out of your pocket, +Michael. I declare I believe you begrudge us the air we breathe. But +don't you know very well that our ordhers are apostolic, and that, of +coorse, we have a more primitive appearance than you have.' + +“'No such thing,' says the other; 'you, and the parsons, and the fat +bishops, are too far from the right place--the only difference between +you is, that you are fat and lazy by toleration, whereas the others are +fat and lazy by authority. You are fat and lazy on your ould horses, +jogging about from house to house, and stuffing yourselves either at the +table of other people's parishioners, or in your own convents in Dublin +and elsewhere. They are rich, bloated gluttons, going about in their +coaches, and wallying in wealth. Now, we are the golden mean, Frank, +that live upon a little, and work hard for it.' + +“'Why, you cormorant,' says the friar, a little nettled, for the dhrop +was beginning to get up into his head, 'sure if we're fat by toleration, +we're only tolerably fat, my worthy secular!' + +“'You see,' says the friar, in a whisper to my uncle, 'how I sobered +them in the larning, and they are good scholars for all that, but not +near so deep read as myself.' 'Michael,' says he, 'now that I think on +it--sure I'm to be at Denis O'Flaherty's Month's mind on Thursday next.' + +“'Indeed I would not doubt you,' says Father Corrigan; 'you wouldn't be +apt to miss it.' + +“'Why, the widdy Flaherty asked me yesterday, and I think that's proof +enough that I'm not going unsent for.' + +“By this time the company was hard and fast at the punch, the songs, and +the dancing. The dinner had been cleared off, except what was before +the friar, who held out wonderfully, and the beggars and shulers were +clawing and scoulding one another about the divide. The dacentest of +us went into the house for a while, taking the fiddler with us, and the +rest, with the piper, staid on the green to dance, where they were soon +joined by lots of the counthry people, so that in a short time there was +a large number entirely. After sitting for some time within, Mary and I +began, you may be sure, to get unasy, sitting palavering among a parcel +of ould sober folks; so, at last, out we slipped, and the few other +dacent young people that were with us, to join the dance, and shake our +toe along with the rest of them. When we made our appearance, the flure +was instantly cleared for us, and then she and I danced the _Humors of +Glin_. + +“Well, it's no matter--it's all past now, and she lies low; but I may +say that it wasn't very often danced in better style since, I'd wager. +Lord, bless us, what a drame the world is! The darling of my heart you +war, avourneen machree. I think I see her with the modest smile upon her +face, straight, and fair, and beautiful, and--hem--and when the dance +was over, how she stood leaning upon me, and my heart within melting to +her, and the look she'd give into my eyes and my heart, too, as much as +to say, 'This is the happy day with me;' and the blush still would +fly acrass her face, when I'd press her, unknownst to the bystanders, +against my beating heart. A _suilish machree_, (* Light of my heart.) +she is now gone from me--lies low, and it all appears like a drame to +me; but--hem--God's will be done!--sure she's happy--och, och!! + +“Many a shake hands did I get from the neighbors' sons, wishing me joy; +and I'm sure I couldn't do less than thrate them to a glass, you know; +and 'twas the same way with Mary: many a neighbors' daughter, that she +didn't do more nor know by eyesight, maybe, would come up and wish +her happiness in the same manner, and she would say to me, 'Shane, +avourneen, that's such a man's daughter--they're a dacent friendly +people, and we can't do less nor give her a glass.' I, of coorse, would +go down and bring them over, after a little pulling--making, you see, as +if they wouldn't come--to where my brother was handing out the native. + +“In this way we passed the time till the evening came on, except that +Mary and the bridesmaid were sent for to dance with the priests, who +were within at the punch, in all their glory,--Friar Rooney along +with them as jolly as a prince. I and my man, on seeing this, were for +staying with the company; but my mother, who 'twas that came for them, +says, 'Never mind the boys, Shane, come in with the girls, I say. You're +just wanted at the present time, both of you, follow me for an hour or +two, till their Reverences within have a bit of a dance with the girls, +in the back room; we don't want to gother a crowd about them.' Well, we +went in, sure enough, for awhile; but, I don't know how it was, I didn't +at all feel comfortable with the priests; for, you see, I'd rather sport +my day figure with the boys and girls upon the green: so I gives Jack +_the hard word_* and in we went, when, behold you, there was Father +Corrigan planted upon the side of a settle, Mary along with him, waiting +till they'd have the fling of a dance together, whilst the Curate was +capering on the flure before the bridesmaid, who was a purty dark-haired +girl, to the tune of 'Kiss my lady;' and the friar planted between my +mother and my mother-in-law, one of his legs stretched out on a chair, +he singing some funny song or other, that brought the tears to their +eyes with laughing. + + * A pass-word, sign, or brief intimation, touching something + of which a man is ignorant, that he may act accordingly. + +“Whilst Father James was dancing with the bridesmaid, I gave Mary the +wink to! come away from Father Corrigan, wishing, as I tould you, to +get out amongst the youngsters once more; and Mary, herself, to tell +the truth, although he was the priest, was very willing to do so. I went +over to her, and says, 'Mary, asthore, there's a friend without that +wishes to spake to you.' + +“'Well,' says Father Corrigan, 'tell that friend that she's better +employed, and that they must wait, whoever they are. I'm giving your +wife, Shane,' says he, 'a little good advice that she won't be the worse +for, and she can't go now.' + +“Mary, in the meantime, had got up, and was coming away, when his +Reverence wanted her to stay till they'd finished their dance. 'Father +Corrigan,' says she, 'let me go now, sir, if you plase, for they would +think it bad threatment of me not to go out to them.' + +“'Troth, and you'll do no such thing, acushla,' says he, spaking so +sweet to her; 'let them come in if they want you. Shane, says his +Reverence, winking at me, and spiking in a whisper, 'stay here, you and +the girls, till we take a hate at the dancing--don't you know that the +ould women here, and me will have to talk over some things about the +fortune; you'll maybe get more nor you expect. Here, Molshy,' says he to +my mother-in-law, 'don't let the youngsters out of this.” + +“'Musha, Shane, ahagur,' say's the ould woman 'why will yez go and +lave the place; sure you needn't be dashed before them--they'll dance +themselves.' + +“Accordingly we stayed in the room; but just on the word, Mary gives +one spring away, leaving his Reverence by himself on the _settle_. 'Come +away,' says she, 'lave them there, and let us go to where I can have a +dance with yourself, Shane.' + +“Well, I always loved Mary, but at that minute, if it would save her, +I think I could spill my heart's blood for her. 'Mary,' says I full to +the throat, 'Mary, acushla agus asthore machree,* I could lose my life +for you.' + + *The very pulse and delight of my heart. + +“She looked in my face, and the tears came into her--yes--'Shane, +achora,' says she, 'amn't I your happy girl, at last?' She was leaning +over against my breast; and what answer do you think I made?--I pressed +her to my heart: I did more--I took off my hat, and looking up to God, I +thanked him with tears in my eyes, for giving me such a treasure. 'Well, +come now,' says she, 'to the green;' so we went--and it's she that was +the girl, when she did go among them, that threw them all into the dark +for beauty and figure; as fair as a lily itself did she look--so tall +and illegant, that you wouldn't think she was a farmer's daughter at +all; so we left the priests dancing away, for we could do no good before +them. + +“When we had danced an hour or so, them that the family had the +greatest regard for were brought in unknown to the rest, to drink tay. +Mary planted herself beside me, and would sit nowhere else; but the +friar got beside the bridesmaid, and I surely observed that many a time +she'd look over, likely to split, at Mary, and it's Mary herself that +gave her many's a wink, to come to the other side; but, you know, out of +manners, she was obliged to sit quietly, though among ourselves it's she +that was like a hen on a hot griddle, beside the ould chap. It was now +that the bride-cake was got. Ould Sonsy Mary marched over, and putting +the bride on her feet, got up on a chair and broke it over her head, +giving round a _fadge_* of it to every young person in the house, and +they again to their acquaintances: but, lo and behold you, who should +insist on getting a whang of it but the friar, which he rolled up in a +piece of paper, and put it in his pocket. 'I'll have good fun,' says +he, 'dividing this to-morrow among the colleens when I'm collecting my +oats--the sorra one of me but I'll make them give me the worth of it of +something, if it was only a fat hen or a square of bacon.' + + * A liberal portion torn off a thick cake. + +“After tay the ould folk got full of talk; the youngsters danced round +them; the friar sung like a thrush, and told many a droll story. The +tailor had got drunk a little too early, and had to be put to bed, but +he was now as fresh as ever, and able to dance a hornpipe, which he +did on a door. The Dorans and the Flanagans had got quite thick after +drubbing one another--Ned Doran began his courtship with Alley Flanagan +on that day, and they were married soon after, so that the two factions +joined, and never had another battle until the day of her berrial, when +they were at it as fresh as ever. Several of those that were at the +wedding were lying drunk about the ditches, or roaring, and swaggering, +and singing about the place. The night falling, those that were dancing +on the green removed to the barn. Father Corrigan and Father James +weren't ill off; but as for the friar, although he was as pleasant as +a lark, there was hardly any such thing as making him tipsy. Father +Corrigan wanted him to dance--'What!' says he, 'would you have me to +bring on an earthquake, Michael?--but who ever heard of a follower +of St. Domnick, bound by his vow to voluntary poverty and +mortification----young couple, your health--will anybody tell mo +who mixed this, for they've knowledge worth a folio of the +fathers----poverty and mortification, going to shake his heel? By the +bones of St. Domnick, I'd desarve to be suspinded if I did. Will no +one tell me who mixed this, I say, for they had a jewel of a hand at +it?--Och-- + + 'Let parsons prache and pray-- + Let priests to pray and prache, sir; + What's the rason they + Don't practise what they tache, sir? + Forral, orral, loll, + Forral, orral, laddy-- + +_Sho da slainthah ma collenee agus ma bouchalee_. Hoigh, oigh, +oigh, healths all! gintlemen seculars! Molshy,' says the friar to my +mother-in-law, 'send that bocaun* to bed--poor fellow, he's almost +off--rouse yourself, James! It's aisy to see that he's but young at it +yet--that's right--he's sound asleep--just toss him into bed, and in an +hour or so he'll be as fresh as a daisy. + + * A soft, unsophisticated youth. + + Let parsons prache and pray-- + -----Forral, orral, loll.' + +“For dear's sake, Father Rooney,' says my uncle, running in, in a great +hurry, 'keep yourself quiet a little; here's the Squire and Mister +Francis coming over to fulfil their promise; he would have come up +airlier, he says, but that he was away all day at the 'sizes.' + +“'Very well,' says the friar, 'let him come--who's afeard--mind +yourself, Michael.' + +“In a minute or two they came in, and we all rose up of course +to welcome them. The Squire shuck hands with the ould people, and +afterwards with Mary and myself, wishing us all happiness, then with the +two clergymen, and introduced Master Frank to them; and the friar made +the young chap sit beside him. The masther then took a sate himself, +and looked on while they were dancing, with a smile of good-humor on his +face--while they, all the time, would give new touches and trebles, to +show off all their steps before him. He was landlord both to my father +and father-in-law; and it's he that was the good man, and the gintleman +every inch of him. They may all talk as they will, but commend me, Mr. +Morrow, to some of the ould squires of former times for a landlord. +The priests, with all their larning, were nothing to him for good +breeding--he appeared so free, and so much at his ase, and even so +respectful, that I don't think there was one in the house but would put +their two hands under his feet to do him a sarvice. + +“When he sat a while, my mother-in-law came over with a glass of nice +punch that she had mixed, at least equal to what the friar praised so +well, and making a low curtshy, begged pardon for using such freedom +with his honor, but hoped that he would just taste a little to the +happiness of the young couple. He then drank our healths, and shuck +hands with us both a second time, saying--although I can't, at all at +all, give it in anything like his own words--'I am glad,' says he, +to Mary's parents, 'that your daughter has made such a good +choice;'--throth he did--the Lord be merciful to his sowl--God forgive +me for what I was going to say, and he a Protestant;--but if ever one of +yez went to heaven, Mr. Morrow, he did;--' such a prudent choice; and I +congr--con--grathu-late you,' says he to my father, 'on your connection +with so industrious and respectable a family. You are now beginning the +world for yourselves,' says he to Mary and me, 'and I cannot propose a +better example to you both than that of your respective parents. From +this forrid,' says he, 'I'm to considher you my tenants; and I wish to +take this opportunity of informing you both, that should you act up to +the opinion I entertain of you, by an attentive coorse of industry +and good management, you will find in me an encouraging and indulgent +landlord. I know, Shane,' says he to me, smiling a little, knowingly +enough too, 'that you have been a little wild or so, but that's past, +I trust. You have now sarious duties to perform, which you cannot +neglect--but you will not neglect them; and be assured, I say again, +that I shall feel pleasure in rendhering you every assistance in my +power in the cultivation and improvement of your farm.'--'Go over, +both of you,' says my father, 'and thank his honor, and promise to do +everything he says.' Accordingly, we did so; I made my scrape as well as +I could, and Mary blushed to the eyes, and dropp'd her curtshy. + +“'Ah!' says the friar, 'see what it is to have a good landlord and +a Christian gintleman to dale with. This is the feeling which should +always bind a landlord and his tenants together. If I know your +character, Squire Whitethorn, I believe you're not the man that would +put a Protestant tenant over the head of a Catholic one, which shows, +sir, your own good sense; for what is a difference of religion, when +people do what they ought to do? Nothing but the name. I trust, sir, we +shall meet in a better place than this--both Protestant and Catholic' + +“'I am happy, sir,' says the Squire, 'to hear such principles from a man +who I thought was bound to hould different opinions.' + +“'Ah, sir!' says the friar, 'you little know who you're talking to, +if you think so. I happened to be collecting a taste of oats, with the +permission of my friend Doctor Corrigan here, for I'm but a poor friar, +sir, and dropped in _by mere accident_; but, you know the hospitality of +our country, Squire; and that's enough--go they would not allow me, and +I was mintioning to this young gintleman, your son, how we collected the +oats, and he insisted on my calling--a generous, noble child! I hope, +sir, you have got proper instructors for him?' + +“'Yes,' said the Squire; 'I'm taking care of that point.' + +“What do you think, sir, but he insists on my calling over to-morrow, +that he may give me his share of oats, as I told him that I was a friar, +and that he was a little parishioner of mine: but I added, that that +wasn't right of him, without his papa's consent.' + +“'Well, sir,' says the Squire, 'as he has promised, I will support him; +so if you'll ride over to-morrow, you shall have a sack of oats--at all +events I shall send you a sack in the course of the day.' + +“'I humbly thank you, sir,' says Father Rooney and I thank my noble +little parishioner for his generosity to the poor old friar--God mark +you to grace, my dear; and wherever you go, take the ould man's blessing +along with you.' + +“They then bid us good-night, and we rose and saw them to the door. + +“Father Corrigan now appeared to be getting sleepy. While this was +going on, I looked about me, but couldn't see Mary. The tailor was just +beginning to get a little hearty once more. Supper waa talked of, but +there was no one that could ate anything; even the friar, was against +it. The clergy now got their horses, the friar laving his oats behind +him; for we promised to send them home, and something more along with +them the next day. Father James was roused up, but could hardly stir +with a _heddick_. Father Corrigan was correct enough; but when the friar +got up, he ran a little to the one side, upsetting Sonsy Mary that sat a +little beyond him. He then called over my mother-in-law to the dresser, +and after some collogin (* whispering) she slipped two fat fowl, that +had never been touched, into one of his coat pockets, that was big +enough to hould a leg of mutton. My father then called me over and said, +'Shane,' says he, 'hadn't you better slip Father Rooney a bottle or two +of that whiskey; there's plenty of it there that wasn't touched, and +you won't be a bit the poorer of it, may be, this day twelve months.' I +accordingly dropped two bottles of it into the other pocket, so that his +Reverence was well balanced any how. + +“'Now,' said he, 'before I go, kneel down both of you, till I give you my +benediction.' + +“We accordingly knelt down, and he gave us his blessing in Latin before +he bid us good-night! + +“After they went, Mary threw the stocking--all the unmarried folks +coming in the dark, to see who it would hit. Bless my sowl, but she +was the droll Mary--for what did she do, only put a big brogue of her +father's into it, that was near two pounds weight; and who should it hit +on the bare sconce, but Billy Cormick, the tailor--who thought he was +fairly shot, for it levelled the crathur at once; though that wasn't +hard to do any how. + +“This was the last ceremony: and Billy was well continted to get the +knock, for you all know, whoever the stocking strikes upon is to be +married first. After this, my mother and mother-in-law set them to the +dancing--and 'twas themselves that kept it up till long after daylight +the next morning--but first they called me into the next room where Mary +was; and--and--so ends my wedding; by the same token that I'm as dry as +a stick.” + +“Come, Nancy,” says Andy Morrow, “replenish again for us all, with a +double measure for Shane Fadh--because he well desarves it.” + +“Why, Shane,” observed Alick, “you must have a terrible memory of your +own, or you couldn't tell it all so exact.” + +“There's not a man in the four provinces has sich a memory,” replied +Shane. “I never hard that story yet, but I could repate it in fifty +years afterwards. I could walk up any town in the kingdom, and let me +look at the signs and I would give them to you agin jist exactly as they +stood.” + +Thus ended the account of Shane Fadh's wedding; and, after finishing the +porter, they all returned home, with an understanding that they were to +meet the next night in the same place. + + + + +LARRY M'FARLAND'S WAKE. + + +The succeeding evening found them all assembled about Ned's fireside in +the usual manner; where M'Roarkin, after a wheezy fit of coughing and +a draught of Nancy's Porter, commenced to give them an account of +Larry M'Farland's Wake. We have observed before, that M'Roarkin was +desperately asthmatic, a circumstance which he felt to be rather an +unpleasant impediment to the indulgence either of his mirth or sorrow. +Every chuckle at his own jokes ended in a disastrous fit of coughing; +and when he became pathetic, his sorrow was most ungraciously dissipated +by the same cause; two facts which were highly relished by his audience. + +“Lakry M'Fakland, when a young man, was considered the best laborer +within a great ways of him; and no servant-man in the parish got within +five shillings a quarter of his wages. Often and often, when his time +would be near out, he'd have offers from the rich farmers and gintlemen +about him, of higher terms; so that he was seldom with one masther more +nor a year at the very most. He could handle a flail with e'er a man +that ever stepped in black leather; and at spade-work there wasn't his +aquil. Indeed, he had a brain for everything: he could thatch better nor +many that arned their bread by it; could make a slide-car, straddle, or +any other rough carpenter work, that it would surprise you to think of +it; could work a kish or side creel beautifully; mow as much as any two +men, and go down a ridge of corn almost as fast as you could walk; was +a great hand at ditching, or draining meadows and bogs; but above all +things he was famous for building hay-ricks and corn-stacks; and when +Squire Farmer used to enter for the prize at the yearly plowing-match, +he was sure to borrow the loan of Larry from whatever master he happened +to be working with. And well he might, for the year out of four that +he hadn't Larry he lost the prize: and every one knew that if Larry had +been at the tail of his plough, they would have had a tighter job of it +in beating him. + +“Larry was a light, airy young man, that knew his own value; and was +proud enough, God knows, of what he could do. He was, indeed, two much +up to sport and divarsion, and never knew his own mind for a week. It +was against him that he never stayed long in one place; for when he +got a house of his own afterwards, he had no one that cared anything in +particular about him. Whenever any man would hire him, he'd take care +to have Easter and Whiss'n Mondays to himself, and one or two of +the Christmas Maragahmores.* He was also a great dancer, fond of +the dhrop--and used to dress above his station: going about with a +shop-cloth coat, cassimoor small-clothes, and a Caroline hat; so that +you would little think he was a poor sarvint-man, laboring for his +wages. One way or other, the money never sted long with him; but he +had light spirits, depended entirely on his good hands, and cared very +little about the world, provided he could take his own fling out of it. + + * Anglice--Big markets. There are three of these held before + Christmas, and one or two before Easter, to enable the + country folks to make their markets, and prepare for the + more comfortably celebrating those great convivial + festivals. They are almost as numerously attended as fairs; + for which reason they are termed “big markets.” + +“In this way he went on from year to year, changing from one master to +another; every man that would employ him thinking he might get him to +stop with him for a constancy. But it was all useless; he'd be off after +half a year, or sometimes a year at the most, for he was fond of roving; +and that man would never give himself any trouble about him afterwards; +though, may be if he had continted himself with him, and been sober and +careful, he would be willing to assist and befriend him, when he might +stand in need of assistance. + +“It's an ould proverb, that 'birds of a feather flock together,' and +Larry was a good proof of this, There was in the same neighborhood a +young woman name Sally Lowry, who was just the other end of himself (* +meaning his counterpart) for a pair of good hands, a love of dress and +of dances. She was well-looking, too, and knew it; light and showy, but +a tight and clane sarvint, any way. Larry and she, in short, began to +coort, and were pulling a coard together for as good as five or six +years. Sally, like Larry, always made a bargain, when hiring, to have +the holly-days to herself; and on these occasions she and Larry would +meet and sport their figure; going off with themselves, as soon as mass +would, be over, into Ballymavourneen, where he would collect a pack of +fellows about him, and she a set of her own friends; and there they'd +sit down and drink for the length of a day, laving themselves without a +penny of whatever little aiming the dress left behind it; for Larry was +never right, except when he was giving a thrate to some one or other. + +“After corrousing away till evening, they'd then set off to a dance; and +when they'd stay there till it would be late, he should see her home, of +coorse, never parting till they'd settle upon meeting another day. + +“At last they got fairly tired of this, and resolved to take one another +for better for worse. Indeed they would have done this long ago, only +that they could never get as much together as would pay the priest. +Howandever, Larry spoke to his brother, who was a sober, industrious +boy, that had laid by his _scollops_ for the windy-day,* and tould him +that Sally Lowry and himself were going to yoke for life. Tom was a +well-hearted, friendly lad, and thinking that Sally, who bore a good +name for being such a clane sarvint, would make a good wife, he lent +Larry two guineas, which along with two more that Sally's aunt, who +had no childhre of her own, gave her, enabled them to over their +difficulties and get married. Shortly after this, his brother Tom +followed his example; but as he had saved something, he made up to Val +Slevin's daughter, that had a fortune of twenty guineas, a cow and a +heifer, with two good chaff beds and bedding. + + * In Irish the proverb is--“Ha naha la na guiha la na + scuilipagh:” that is, the windy or stormy day is not that on + which the scollops should be cut. Scollops are osier twigs, + sharpened at both ends, and inserted in the thatch, to bind + it at the eave and rigging. The proverb inculcates + preparation for future necessity. + +“Soon after Tom's marriage, he comes to Larry one day and says 'Larry, +you and I are now going to face the world; we're both young', healthy, +and willin' to work--so are our wives; and it's bad if we can't make out +bread for ourselves, I think.' + +“'Thrue for you, Tom,' says Larry, 'and what's to hinder us? I only wish +we had a farm, and you'd see we'd take good bread out of it: for my +part there's not another _he_ in the country I'd turn my back upon for +managing a farm, if I had one.' + +“' Well,' says the other, 'that's what I wanted to overhaul as we're +together; Squire Dickson's steward was telling me yesterday, as I +was coming up from my father-in-law's, that his master has a farm of +fourteen acres to set at the present time; the one the Nultys held, that +went last spring to America--'twould be a dacent little take between +us.' + +“'I know every inch of it,' says Larry, 'and good strong land it is, but +it was never well wrought; the Nultys weren't fit for it at all; for one +of them didn't know how to folly a plough. I'd engage to make that land +turn out as good crops as e'er a farm within ten miles of it.' + +“'I know that, Larry,' says Tom, 'and Squire Dickson knows that no man +could handle it to more advantage. Now if you join me in it, whatever +means I have will be as much yours as mine; there's two snug houses +under the one roof, with out-houses and all, in good repair--and if +Sally and Biddy will pull manfully along with us, I don't see, with the +help of Almighty Grod, why we shouldn't get on dacently, and soon be +well and comfortable to live.' + +“'Comfortable!' savs Larry, 'no, but wealthy itself, Tom: and let us +_at_ it at wanst; Squire Dickson knows what I can do as well as any man +in Europe; and I'll engage won't be hard upon us for the first year or +two; our best plan is to go to-morrow, for fraid some-other might get +the foreway of us.' + +“The Squire knew very well that two better boys weren't to be met with +than the same M'Farlands, in the way of knowing how to manage land; and +although he had his doubts as to Larry's light and careless ways, yet he +had good depindance out of the brother and thought, on the whole, that +they might do very-well together. Accordingly, he set them the farm at +a reasonable rint, and in a short time they were both living on it with +their two wives. They divided the fourteen acres into aquil parts; +and for fraid were would be any grumbling between them about better or +worse, Tom proposed that they should draw lots, which was agreed to by +Larry; but, indeed, there was very little difference in the two halves; +for Tom took care, by the way he divided them, that none of them should +have any reason to complain. From the time they wint to live upon their +farms, Tom was up early and down late, improving it--paid attention to +nothing else; axed every man's opinion as to what crop would be best for +such a spot, and to tell the truth he found very few, if any, able to +instruct him so well as his own brother Larry. He was no such laborer, +however, as Larry--but what he was short in, he made up by perseverance +and care. + +“In the coorse 'of two or three years you would hardly bleeve how he got +on, and his wife was every bit aquil to him. She spun the yarn for the +linen that made their own shirts and sheeting, bought an odd pound of +wool-now and then when she could get it chape, and put it past till she +had a stone or so; she would then sit down and spin it--get it wove +and dressed; and before one would know anything about it she'd have +the making of a dacent comfortable coat for Tom, and a bit of +heather-colored drugget for her own gown, along with a piece of striped +red and blue for a petticoat--all at very little cost. + +“It wasn't so with Larry. In the beginning, to be sure, while the fit +was on him, he did very well; only that he would go off an odd time to +a dance; or of a market or fair day, when he'd see the people pass by, +dressed in their best clothes, he'd take the notion, and sot off with +himself, telling Sally that he'd just go in for a couple of hours, to +see how the markets were going on. + +“It's always an unpleasant thing for a body to go to a fair or market +without anything in their pocket; accordingly, if money was in the +house, he'd take some of it with him, for fraid that any friend +or acquaintance might thrate him; and then it would be a poor, +mane-spirited thing, he would say, to take another man's thrate, without +giving one for it. He'd seldom have any notion, though, of breaking in +upon or spinding the money, he only brought it to keep his pocket, jist +to prevent him from being shamed, should he meet a friend. + +“In the manetime, Sally, in his absence, would find herself lonely, and +as she hadn't, may be, seen her aunt for some time before, she'd lock +the door, and go over to spind a while with her; or take a trip as far +as her ould mistress's place to see the family. Many a thing people will +have to say to one another about the pleasant times they had together, +or several other subjects best known to themselves, of coorse. Larry +would come home in her absence, and finding the door locked, would slip +down to Squire Dickson's, to chat with the steward or gardener, or with +the sarvints in the kitchen. + +“You all remimber Torn Hance, that kept the public-house at Tullyvernon +cross-roads, a little above the. Squire's--at laste, most of you do--and +ould Willy Butledge, the fiddler, that spint his time between Tom's and +the big house--God,be good to Wilty!--it's himself was the droll man +entirely: he died of ating boiled banes, for a wager that the Squire +laid on him agin ould Captain Mint, and dhrinking porter after them +till he was swelled like a tun; but the Squire berried him at his own +expense. Well, Larry's haunt, on finding Sally out when he came home, +was either at the Squire's kitchen, or Tom Hance's; and as he was the +broth of a boy at dancing, the sarvints, when he'd go down, would send +for Wilty to Hance's, if he didn't happen to be with themselves at the +time, and strike up a dance in the kitchen; and, along with all, may be +Larry would have a sup in his head. + +“When Sally would come home, in her turn, she'd not find Larry before +her; but Larry's custom was to go in to Tom's wife, and say,--'Biddy, +tell Sally, when she comes home, that I'm gone down awhile to the big +house (or to Tom Hance's, as it might be), but I'll not be long.' Sally, +after waiting awhile, would put on her cloak, and slip down to see +what was keeping him. Of course, when finding the sport going on, and +carrying a light heel at the dance herself, she'd throw off the cloak, +and take a hand at it along with the rest. Larry and she would then go +their ways home, find the fire out, light a sod of turf in Tom's, +and feeling their own place very cowld and naked, after the blazing +comfortable fire they had left behind them, go to bed, both in very +middling spirits entirely. + +“Larry, at other times, would quit his work early in the evening, to go +down towards the Squire's, bekase he had only to begin work earlier the +next day to make it up. He'd meet the Squire himself, may be, and, after +putting his hand to his hat, and getting a 'how do you do, Larry,' +from his honor, enter into discoorse with him about his honor's plan of +stacking his corn. Now, Larry was famous at this. + +“'Who's to build your stacks this saison, your honor?' + +“'Tim Dillon, Larry.' + +“'Is it he, your honor?--he knows as much about building a stack of corn +as Mas-ther George, here. He'll only botch them, sir, if you let him go +about them.' + +“'Yes;' but what can I do, Larry? He's the only man I have that I could +trust them to.' + +“'Then it's your honor needn't say that anyhow; for rather then see them +spoiled, I'd come down myself and put them up for you.' + +“'Oh, I couldn't expect that, Larry.' + +“Why, then, I'll do it, your honor; and you may expect, me down in the +morning at six o'clock, plase God.' + +“Larry would keep his word, though his own corn was drop-ripe; and +havin' once undertaken the job, he couldn't give it up till he'd, finish +it off dacently. In the meantime, his own crop would go to destruction; +sometimes a windy day would come, and not leave him every tenth grain; +he'd then get some one to cut it down for him--he had to go to the big +house, to build the master's corn; he was then all bustle--a great +man entirely--there was _non_ such; would be up with, the first light, +ordering and commanding, and directing the Squire's laborers, as if he +was the king of the castle. Maybe, 'tis after he'd come from the big' +house, that he'd, collect a few of the neighbors, and get a couple of +cars and horses from the Squire, you see, to bring home his own oats to +the hagyard with moonlight, after the dews would begin to fall; and. +in a week afterwards every stack would be heated, and all in a reek of +froth and smoke. It's not aisy to do anything in a hurry, and especially +it's not aisy to build a corn-stack after night, when a man cannot see +how it goes on: so 'twas no wonder if Larry's stacks were supporting one +another the next day--one leaning north and another south. + +“But, along with this, Larry and Sally were great people for going to +the dances that Hance used to have at the crass-roads, bekase he wished +to put money into his own pocket; and if a neighbor died, they were sure +to be the first at the wake-house--for Sally was a great hand at washing +down a corpse---and they would be the last home from the berril; for +you know, they couldn't but be axed in to the dhrinking, after the +friends would lave the churchyard, to take a sup to raise their spirits +and drown sorrow, for grief is always drouthy. + +“When the races, too, would come, they would be sure not to miss them; +and if you'd go into a tint, it's odds but you'd find them among a knot +of acquaintances, dhrinking and dancing, as if the world was no trouble +to them. They were, indeed, the best nathured couple in Europe; they +would lend you a spade or a hook in potato time or harvest, out of pure +kindness, though their own corn, that was drop-ripe, should be uncut, +or their potatoes, that were a tramping every day with their own cows or +those of the neighbors, should be undug--all for fraid of being thought +unneighborly. + +“In this way they went on for some years, not altogether so bad but that +they were able just to keep the house over their heads. They had a small +family of three children on their hands, and every likelihood of having +enough of them. Whenever they got a young one christened, they'd be sure +to have a whole lot of the neighbors at it; and surely some of the young +ladies, or Master George, or John, or Frederick, from the big house, +should stand gossip, and have the child called after them. They then +should have tay enough to sarve them, and loaf-bread and punch; and +though Larry should sell a sack of seed-oats or seed-potatoes to get +it, no doubt but there should be a bottle of wine, to thrate the young +ladies or gintlemen. + +“When their childre grew up, little care was taken of them, bekase their +parents minded other people's business more nor their own. They were +always in the greatest poverty and distress; for Larry would be killing +time about the Squire's, or doing some handy job for a neighbor who +could get no other man to do it. They now fell behind entirely in the +rint, and Larry got many hints from the Squire that if he didn't pay +more attention to his business, he must look after his arrears, or +as much of it as he could make up from the cattle and the crop. Larry +promised well, as far as words went, and no doubt hoped to be able to +perform; but he hadn't steadiness to go through with a thing. Thruth's +best;--you see both himself and his wife neglected their business in the +beginning, so that everything went at sixes and sevens. They then found +themselves uncomfortable at their own hearth, and had no heart to labor: +so that what would make a careful person work their fingers to the +stumps to get out of poverty, only prevented _them_ from working at all, +or druv them to work for those that had more comfort, and could give +them a better male's mate than they had themselves. + +“Their tempers, now, soon began to get sour: Larry thought, bekase Sally +wasn't as careful as she ought to be, that if he had taken any other +young woman to his wife, he wouldn't be as he was;--she thought the +very same thing of Larry. 'If he was like another,' she would say to his +brother, 'that would be up airly and late at his own business, I would +have spirits to work, by rason it would cheer my heart to see our little +farm looking as warm and comfortable as anothers; but, _fareer gairh_ +(* bitter misfortune) that's not the case, nor likely to be so, for he +spinds his time from one place to another, working for them that laughs +at him for his pains; but he'd rather go to his neck in wather than lay +down a hand for himself, except when he can't help it.' + +“Larry, again, had his complaint--'Sally's a lazy trollop,' he would +say to his brother's wife, 'that never does one hand's turn that she +can help, but sits over the fire from morning till night, making bird's +nests in the ashes with her yallow heels, or going about from one +neighbor's house to another, gosthering and palavering about what +doesn't consarn her, instead of minding the house. How can I have heart +to work, when I come in--expecting to find my dinner ready; but, instead +of that, get her sitting upon her hunkers on the hearthstone; blowing at +two or three green sticks with her apron, the pot hanging on the crook, +without even the white horses on it.* She never puts a stitch in my +clothes, nor in the childher's clothes, nor in her own, but lets them +go to rags at once--the divil's luck to her! I wish I had never met with +her, or that I had married a sober girl, that wasn't fond of dress and +dancing. If she was a good sarvint, it was only because she liked to +have a good name; for when she got a house and place of her own, see how +she turned out!' + + * The white horses are produced by the extrication of air, + which rises in white bubbles to the surface when the + potatoes are beginning to boil; so that when the first + symptoms of boiling commence, it is a usual phrase to say, + the white horses are on the pot--sometimes the white friars. + +“From less to more, they went on squabbling and fighting, until at last +you might see Sally one time with a black eye or a cut head, or another +time going off with herself, crying, up to Tom Hance's or some other +neighbor's house, to sit down and give a history of the ruction that +he and she had on the head of some trifle or another that wasn't worth +naming. Their childher were shows, running about without a single stitch +upon them, except ould coats that some of the sarvints from the big +house would throw them. In these they'd go sailing about,with the long +skirts trailing on the ground behind them; and sometimes Larry would be +mane enough to take the coat from the gorsoon, and ware it himself. As +for giving them any schooling, 'twas what they never thought of; +but even if they were inclined to it, there was no school in the +neighborhood to send them to, for God knows it's the counthry that was +in a neglected state as to schools in those days, as well as now. + +“It's a thrue saying, that as the ould cock crows the young one larns; +and this was thrue here, for the childher fought one another like so +many divils, and swore like Trojans--Larry, along with everything else, +when he was a Brine-oge, thought it was a manly thing to be a great +swearer; and the childher, when they got able to swear, warn't worse nor +their father. At first, when any of the little souls would thry at an +oath, Larry would break his heart laughing at them; and so, from one +thing to another, they got quite hardened in it, without being any way +checked in wickedness. Things at last drew on to a bad state, entirely. +Larry and Sally were now as ragged as Dives and Lazarus, and their +childher the same. It was no strange sight, in summer, to see the young +ones marching about the street as bare as my hand, with scarce a blessed +stitch upon them that ever was seen, they dirt and ashes to the eyes, +waddling after their uncle Tom's geese and ducks, through the green +sink of rotten water that lay before their own door, just beside the +dunghill: or the bigger ones running after the Squire's laborers, when +bringing home the corn or the hay, wanting to get a ride as they went +back with the empty cars. + +“Larry and Sally would never be let into the Squire's kitchen now to eat +or drink, or spend an evening with the sarvints; he might go out and in +to his meal's mate along with the rest of the laborers, but there was +no _grah_ (* goodwill) for him. Sally would go down with her jug to get +some buttermilk, and have to stand among a set of beggars and cotters, +she as ragged and as poor as any of them, for she wouldn't be let into +the kitchen till her turn came, no more nor another, for the sarvints +would turn up their noses with the greatest disdain possible at them +both. + +“It was hard to tell whether the inside or the outside of their house +was worse;--within, it would amost turn your stomach to look at it--the +flure was all dirt, for how could it be any other way, when at the end +of every meal the _schrahag_* would be emptied down on it, and the pig, +that was whining and grunting about the door, would brake into the hape +of praty-skins that Sally would there throw down for it. You might reel +Larry's shirt, or make a surveyor's chain of it; for, bad cess (* Bad +success) to me, but I bleeve it would reach from this to the Bath. The +blanket was in tatthers, and, like the shirt, would go round the house: +their straw-beds were stocked with the _black militia_--the childer's +heads were garrisoned with _Scotch greys_, and their heels and heads +ornamented with all description of kibes. There wor only two stools in +all the house, and a hassock of straw for the young child, and one of +the stools wanted a leg, so that it was dangerous for a stranger to sit +down upon it, except he knew of this failing. The flure was worn into +large holes, that were mostly filled up with slop, where the childher +used to daddle about, and amuse themselves by sailing egg-shells upon +them, with bits of boiled praties in them, by way of a little faste. The +dresser was as black as dirt could make it, and had on it only two or +three wooden dishes, clasped with tin, and noggins without hoops, a +beetle, and some crockery. There was an ould chest to hold their male, +but it wanted the hinges; and the childher, when they'd get the +mother out, would mix a sup of male and wather in a noggin, and stuff +themselves with it, raw and all, for they were almost starved. + +“Then, as the cow-house had never been kept in repair, the roof fell in, +and the cow and pig had to stand in one end of the dwelling-house; +and, except Larry did it, whatever dirt the same cow and pig, and the +childher to the back of that, were the occasion of, might stand there +till Saturday night, when, for dacency's sake, Sally herself would take +a shovel, and out with it upon the hape that was beside the sink before +the door. If a wet day came, there wasn't a spot you could stand in for +_down-rain_; and wet or dry, Sally, Larry, and the childher were spotted +like trouts with the soot-dhrops, made by the damp of the roof and the +smoke. The house on the outside was all in ridges of black dirt, where +the thatch had rotted, or covered over with chickenweed or blind-oats; +but in the middle of all this misery they had a horseshoe nailed over +the door-head for good luck. + +“You know, that in telling this story, I needn't mintion everything just +as it happened, laying down year after year, or day and date; so you may +suppose, as I go on, that all this went forward in the coorse cf time. +They didn't get bad of a sudden, but by degrees, neglecting one thing +after another, until they found themselves in the state I'm relating to +you--then struggling and struggling, but never taking the right way to +mend. + +“But where's the use in saying much more about it?--things couldn't +stand--they were terribly in arrears; but the landlord was a good kind +of man, and, for the sake of the poor childher, didn't wish to turn them +on the wide world, without house or shelter, bit or sup. Larry, too, had +been, and still was, so ready to do difficult and nice jobs for him, and +would resave no payment, that he couldn't think of taking his only +cow from him or prevent him from raising a bit of oats' or a plat of +potatoes, every year, out of the farm.--The farm itself was all run to +waste by this time, and had a miserable look about it--sometimes you +might see a piece of a field that had been ploughed, all overgrown with +grass, because it had never been sowed or set with anything. The slaps +were all broken down, or had only a piece of an ould beam, a thorn bush, +or crazy car lying acrass, to keep the cattle out of them. His bit of +corn was all eat away and cropped here and there by the cows, and his +potatoes rooted up by the pigs.--The garden, indeed, had a few cabbages, +and a ridge of early potatoes, but these were so choked with burtlocks +and nettles, that you could hardly see them. + +“I tould you before that they led the divil's life, and that was nothing +but God's truth; and according as they got into greater poverty it +was worse. A day couldn't pass without a fight; if they'd be at their +breakfust, maybe he'd make a potato hop off her skull, and she'd give +him the contents of her noggin of buttermilk about the eyes; then he'd +flake her, and the childher would be in an uproar, crying out, 'Oh, +daddy, daddy, don't kill my mammy!' When this would be over, he'd go +off with himself to do something for the Squire, and would sing and +laugh so pleasant, that you'd think he was the best-tempered man alive; +and so he was, until neglecting his business, and minding dances, and +fairs, and drink, destroyed him. + +“It's the maxim of the world, that when a man is down, down with him; +but when a man goes down through his own fault, he finds very little +mercy from any one. Larry might go to fifty fairs before he'd meet +any one now to thrate him; instead of that, when he'd make up to them, +they'd turn away, or give him the cowld shoulder. But that wouldn't +satisfy him: for if he went to buy a slip of a pig, or a pair of +brogues, and met an ould acquaintance that had got well to do in the +world, he should bring him in, and give him a dram, merely to let the +other see that he was still _able_ to do it; then, when they'd sit down, +one dram would bring on another from Larry, till the price of the pig or +the brogues would be spint, and he'd go home again as he came, sure to +have another battle with Sally. + +“In this way things went on, when one day that Larry was preparing to +sell some oats a son of Nicholas Roe Sheridan's of the Broad bog came +in to him. 'Good-morrow,' says he. 'Good-morrow, kindly, Art,' says +Larry--'how are you, ma bou-chal?' + +“'Why I've no rason to complain, thank God, and you,' says the other; +'how is yourself?' + +“'Well, thank you, Art: how is the family?' + +“'Faix, all stout except my father, that has got a touch of the +toothache. When did you hear from the Slevins?' + +“'Sally was down on Thursday last, and they're all well, your soul.' + +“'Where's Sally now?' + +“'She's just gone down to the big house for a pitcher of buttermilk; our +cow won't calve these three weeks to come, and she gets a sup of kitchen +for the childher till then; won't you take a sate, Art? but you had +better have a care of yourself, for that stool wants a leg.' + +“'I didn't care she was within, for I brought a sup of my own stuff in +my pocket,' said Art. + +“'Here, Hurrish' (he was called Horatio after one of the Square's sons), +'fly down to the Square's, and see what's keeping your mother; the +divil's no match for her at staying out with herself wanst she's from +under the roof.' + +“'Let Dick go,' says the little fellow, 'he's betther able to go nor I +am; he has got a coat on him.' + +“'Go yourself, when I bid you,' says the father. + +“'Let him go,' says Hurrish, 'you have no right to bid me to go, when he +has a coat upon him: you promised to ax one for me from Masther Francis, +and you didn't do it; so the divil a toe I'll budge to-day,' says he, +getting betune the father and the door. + +“'Well, wait,' says Larry, 'faix, only the strange man's to the fore, +and I don't like to raise a hubbub, I'd pay you for making me such an +answer. Dick, agra, will you run down, like a good bouchal, to the big +house, and tell your mother to come home, that there's a strange man +here wants her?' + +“'Twas Hurrish you bid,' says Dick--'and make him: that's the way he +always thrates you--does nothing that you bid him.' + +“'But you know, Dick,' says the father, 'that he hasn't a stitch to his +back, and the crathur doesn't like to go out in the cowld, and he so +naked.' + +“'Well, you bid him go,' says Dick, 'an let him; the sorrayard I'll +go--the shinburnt spalpeen, that's always the way with him; whatever +he's bid to do, he throws it on me, bekase, indeed, he has no coat; but +he'll folly Masther Thomas or Masther Francis through sleet and snow up +the mountains when they're fowling or tracing; he doesn't care about a +coat then.' + +“'Hurrish, you must go down for your mother when I bid you,' says the +weak man, turning again to the other boy. + +“I'll not,' says the little fellow; 'send Dick.' + +“Larry said no more, but, laying down the child he had in his hands, +upon the flure, makes at him; the lad, however, had the door of him, and +was off beyant his reach like a shot. He then turned into the house, +and meeting Dick, felled him with a blow of his fist at the dresser. +'Tundher-an-ages, Larry,' says Art, 'what has come over you at all at +all? to knock down the gorsoon with such a blow! couldn't you take a rod +or a switch to him?--_Dher manhim_, (* By my soul!) man, but I bleeve +you've killed him outright,' says he, lifting the boy, and striving to +bring him to life. Just at this minit Sally came in. + +“'Arrah, sweet bad-luck to you, you lazy vagabond you,' says Larry, +'what kept you away till this hour?' + +“'The devil send you news, you nager you,' says Sally, 'what kept +me--could I make the people churn sooner than they wished or were +ready?' + +“'Ho, by my song, I'll flake you as soon as the dacent young man leaves +the house,' says Larry to her, aside. + +“'You'll flake me, is it?' says Sally, speaking out loud--'in troth, +that's no new thing for you to do, any how.' + +“'Spake asy, you had betther.' + +“'No, in troth, won't I spake asy; I've spoken asy too long, Larry, +but the devil a taste of me will bear what I've suffered from you any +longer, you mane-spirited blackguard you; for he is nothing else that +would rise his hand to a woman, especially to one in my condition, and +she put her gown tail to her eyes. When she came in, Art turned his back +to her, for fraid she'd see the state the gorsoon was in--but now she +noticed it-- + +“'Oh, murdher, murdher,' says she, clapping her hands, and running over +to him, 'what has happened my child? oh! murdher, murdher, this is your +work, murdherer!' says she to Larry. 'Oh, you villain, are you bent on +murdhering all of us--are you bent on destroying us out o' the face! Oh, +wurrah sthrew! wurrah sthrew! what'll become of us! Dick, agra,' says +she, crying, 'Dick, acushla machree, don't you hear, me spaiking to +you!--don't you hear your poor broken-hearted mother spaking to you? Oh! +wurrah! wurrah! amn't I the heart-brokenest crathur that's alive this +day, to see the likes of such doings! but I knew it would come to +this! My sowl to glory, but my child's murdhered by that man standing +there!--by his own father--his own father! Which of us will you murther +next, you villain!' + +“'For heaven's sake, Sally,' says Art, 'don't exaggerate him more nor +he is--the boy is only stunned--see, he's coming to: Dick, ma bouchal, +rouse yourself, that's a man: hut! he's well enough--that's it, alannah; +here, take a slug out of this bottle, and it'll set all right--or stop, +have you a glass within, Sally?' 'Och, inusha, not a glass is under the +roof wid me,' says Sally; 'the last we had was broke the night +Barney was christened, and we hadn't one since--but I'll get you an +egg-shell.'* 'It'll do as well as the best,' says Art. And to make a +long story short, they sat down, and drank the bottle of whiskey among +them. Larry and Sally made it up, and were as great friends as ever; and +Dick was made drunk for the bating he got from his father. + + * The ready wit of the Irish is astonishing. It often + happens that they have whiskey when neither glasses nor cups + are at hand; in which case they are never at a loss. I have + seen them use not only egg-shells, but pistol barrels, + tobacco boxes, and scooped potatoes, in extreme cases. + +“What Art wanted was to buy some oats that Larry had to sell, to run in +a private Still, up in the mountains, of coorse, where every Still is +kept. Sure enough, Larry sould him the oats, and was to bring them up to +the still-house the next night after dark. According to appointment, Art +came a short time after night-fall, with two or three young boys along +with him. The corn was sacked and put on the horses; but before that +was done, they had a dhrop, for Art's pocket and the bottle were ould +acquaintances. They all then sat down in Larry's, or, at laste, as many +as there were seats for, and fell to it. Larry, however, seemed to be +in better humor this night, and more affectionate with Sally and the +childher: he'd often look at them, and appear to feel as if something +was over him* but no one observed that till afterwards. Sally herself +seemed kinder to him, and even went over and sat beside him on the +stool, and putting her arm about his neck, kissed him in a joking +way, wishing to make up, too, for what Art saw the night before--poor +thing--but still as if it wasn't all a joke, for at times she looked +sorrowful. Larry, too, got his arm about her, and looked, often and +often on her and the childher, in a way that he wasn't used to do, until +the tears fairly came into his eyes. + + * This is precisely tantamount to what the Scotch call + “fey.” It means that he felt as if some fatal doom were over + him. + +“'Sally, avourneen,' says he, looking at her, 'I saw you when you had +another look from what you have this night; when it wasn't asy to fellow +you _in_ the parish or _out_ of it;' and when he said this he could +hardly spake. + +“'Whist, Larry, acushla,' says she, 'don't be spaking that way--sure we +may do very well yet, plase God: I know, Larry, there was a great dale +of it--maybe, indeed, it was all my fault; for I wasn't to you, in the +way of care and kindness, what I ought to be.' + +“'Well, well, aroon, says Larry, 'say no more; you might have been all +that, only it was my fault: but where's Dick, that I struck so terribly +last night? Dick, come over to me, agra--come over, Dick, and sit +down here beside me. Arrah, here, Art, ma bouchal, will you fill this +egg-shell for him?--Poor gorsoon! God knows, Dick, you get far from +fair play, acushla--far from the ating and drinking that other people's +childher get, that hasn't as good a skin to put it in as you, alannah! +Kiss me, Dick, acushla--and God knows your face is pale, and that's not +with good feeding, anyhow: Dick, agra, I'm sorry for what I done to +you last night; forgive your father, Dick, for I think that my heart's +breaking, acushla, and that you won't have me long with you.' + +“Poor Dick, who was naturally a warmhearted, affectionate gorsoon, +kissed his father, and cried bitterly. Sally herself, seeing Larry so +sorry for what he done, sobbed as if she would drop on the spot: but the +rest began, and betwixt scoulding and cheering them up, all was as well +as ever. Still Larry seemed as if there was something entirely very +strange the matter with him, for as he was going out, he kissed all the +childher, one after another; and even went over to the young baby that +was asleep in the little cradle of boords that he himself had made for +it, and kissed it two or three times, asily, for fraid of wakening it. +He then met Sally at the door, and catching her hand when none of +the rest saw him, squeezed it, and gave her a kiss, saying, 'Sally, +darling!' says he. + +“'What ails you, Larry, asthore?' says Sally. + +“'I don't know,' says he; 'nothing, I bleeve--but Sally, acushla, I have +thrated you badly all along. I forgot, avourneen, how I loved you _once_ +and now it breaks my heart that I have used you so ill.' + +“'Larry she answered, 'don't be talking that way, bekase you make me +sorrowful and unasy--don't, acushla: God above me knows I forgive you +it all. Don't stay long,' says she 'and I'll borry a lock of meal +from Biddy, till we get home our own meldhre, and I'll have a dish of +stirabout ready to make for you when you come home. Sure, Larry, who'd +forgive you, if I, your own wife, wouldn't? But it's I that wants it +from you, Larry; and in the presence of God and ourselves, I now beg +your pardon, and ax your forgiveness for all the sin I done to you.' She +dropped on her knees, and cried bitterly; but he raised her up, himself +a choking at the time, and as the poor crathur got to her feet, she laid +herself on his breast, and sobbed out, for she couldn't help it. They +then went away, though Larry, to tell the thruth, wouldn't have gone +with them at all, only that the sacks were borried from his brother, and +he had to bring them home, in regard of Tom wanting them the very next +day. + +“The night was as dark as pitch--so dark, faiks, that they had to get +long pieces of bog fir, which they lit, and held in their hand, like the +lights that Ned there says the lamplighters have in Dublin to light the +lamps with. + +“At last, with a good dale of trouble, they got to the still-house; and, +as they had all taken a drop before, you may be sure they were better +inclined, to take another now. They, accordingly, sat down about the +fine rousing fire that was under the still, and had a right good jorum +of strong whiskey that never seen a drop of water. They all were in very +good spirits, not thinking of to-morrow, and caring at the time very +little about the world as it went. + +“When the night was far advanced, they thought of moving home; however, +by that time they weren't able to stand: but it's one curse of being +drunk, that a man doesn't know what he's about for the time, except some +few, like that poaching ould fellow, Billy M'Kinny, that's cuinninger +when he's drunk than when he's sober; otherwise they would not have +ventured out in the clouds of the night, when it was so dark and severe, +and they in such a state. + +“At last they staggered away together, for their road lay for a good +distance in the same direction. The others got on, and reached home as +well as they could; but, although Sally borried the dish of male from +her sister-in-law, to have a warm pot of stirabout for Larry, and sat +up till the night was more than half gone, waiting for him, yet no Larry +made his appearance. The childher, too, all sat up, hoping he'd +come home before they'd fall asleep and miss the supper: at last the +crathurs, after running about, began to get sleepy, and one head would +fall this way and another that way; so Sally thought it hard to let them +go without getting their share, and accordingly she put down the pot on +a bright fire, and made a good lot of stirabout for them, covering up +Larry's share in a red earthen dish before the fire. + +“This roused them a little; and they sat about the hearth with their +mother, keeping her company with their little chat, till their father +would come back. + +“The night, for some time before this, got very stormy entirely. The +wind ris, and the rain fell as if it came out of methers.* The house was +very cowld, and the door was bad; for the wind came in very strong +under the foot of it, where the ducks and hens, and the pig when it was +little, used to squeeze themselves in when the family was absent, or +afther they went to bed. The wind now came whistling under it; and the +ould hat and rags, that stopped up the windies, were blown out half a +dozen times with such force, that the ashes were carried away almost +from the hearth. Sally got very low-spirited on hearing the storm +whistling so sorrowfully through the house, for she was afeard that +Larry might be out on the dark moors under it; and how any living soul +could bear it, she didn't know. The talk of the childhre, too, made her +worse; for they were debating among themselves, the crathurs, about what +he had better do under the tempest; whether he ought to take the sheltry +side of a hillock, or get into a long heather bush or under the ledge of +a rock or tree, if he could meet such a thing. + + * An old Irish drinking vessel, of a square form, with a + handle or ear on each side, out of which all the family + drank successively, or in rotation. The expression above is + proverbial. + +“In the mane time, terrible blasts would come over and through the +house, making the ribs crack so that you would think the roof would be +taken away at wanst. The fire was now getting low, and Sally had no more +turf in the house; so that the childher crouched closer and closer about +it, their poor hungry-looking pale faces made paler with fear that the +house might come down upon them, or be stripped, and their father from +home--and with worse fear that something might happen him under such a +tempest of wind and rain as it blew. Indeed it was a pitiful sight to +see the ragged crathurs drawing in in a ring nearer and nearer the +dying fire; and their poor, naked, half-starved mother, sitting with her +youngest infant lying between her knees and her breast; for the bed was +too cowld to put it into it, without being kept warm by the heat of them +that it used to sleep with.” + + +“Musha, God help her and them,” says Ned, “I wish they were here beside +me on this comfortable hob, this minute; I'd fight Nancy to get a +fog-meal for them, any way--a body can't but pity them afther all!” + +“You'd fight Nancy!” said Nancy herself--“maybe Nancy would be as +willing to do something for the crathurs as you would--I like every body +that's able to pay for what they get! but we ought to have some bowels +in us for all that. You'd fight Nancy, indeed!” + +“Well,” continued the narrator, “there' they sat, with cowld and fear in +their pale faces, shiverin' over the remains of the fire, for it was now +nearly out, and thinking, as the deadly blast would drive through the +creaking ould door and the half-stuffed windies, of what their father +would do under such a terrible night. Poor Sally, sad and sorrowful, was +thinking of all their ould quarrels, and taking the blame all to herself +for not bein' more attentive to her business, and more kind to Larry; +and when she thought of the way she thrated him, and the ill-tongue she +used to give him, the tears began to roll from her eyes, and she rocked +herself from side to side, sobbing as if her heart would brake. When +the childher saw her wiping her eyes with the corner of the little +handkerchief that she had about her neck, they began to cry along with +her. At last she thought, as it was now so late, that it would be folly +to sit up any longer; she hoped, too, that he might have thought of +going into some neighbor's house on his way, to take shelter, and with +these thoughts, she raked the greeshough (* warm ashes and embers) over +the fire, and after, putting the childher in their little straw nest, +and spreading their own rags over them, she and the young one went to +bed, although she couldn't sleep at all at all, for thinking of Larry. + +“There she lay, trembling under the light cover of the bed-clothes, for +they missed Larry's coat, listening to the dreadful night that was in +it, so lonely, that the very noise of the cow, in the other corner, +chewing her cud, in the silence of a short calm, was a great relief to +her. It was a long time before she could get a wink of sleep, for there +was some uncommon weight upon her that she couldn't account for by any +chance; but after she had been lying for about half an hour, she heard +something that almost fairly knocked her up. It was the voice of a +woman, crying and wailing in the greatest distress, as if all belonging +to her were under-boord. + +“When Sally heard it first, she thought it was nothing but the whistling +of the wind; but it soon came again, more sorrowful than before, and as +the storm arose, it rose upon the blast along with it, so strange and +mournful that she never before heard the like of it. 'The Lord be about +us!' said she to herself, 'what can that be at all?--or who is it? for +its not Nelly,' maning her sister-in-law. Again she listened, and there +was, sobbing and sighing in the greatest grief, and she thought she +heard it louder than ever, only that this time it seemed to name +whomsoever it was lamenting. Sally now got up and put her ear to the +door, to see if she could hear what it said. At this time the wind +got calmer, and the voice also got lower; but although it was still +sorrowful, she never heard any living Christian's voice so sweet, and +what was very odd, it fell in fits, exactly as the storm sunk, and rose +as it blew louder. + +“When she put her ear to the chink of the door, she heard the words +repeated, no doubt of it, only couldn't be quite sure, as they wern't +very plain; but as far as she could make any sense out of them, she +thought that it said--'Oh, Larry M'Farland!--Larry M'Farland!--Larry +M'Farland!' + +“Sally's hair stood on end when she heard this; but on listening again, +she thought it was her own name instead of Larry's that it repeated, +and that it said, 'Sally M'Farland!--Sally M'Farland!--Sally M'Farland!' +Still she wasn't sure, for the words wern't plain, and all she could +think was, that they resembled her own name or Larry's more than any +other words she knew. At last, as the wind fell again, it melted away, +weeping most sorrowfully, but so sweetly, that the likes of it was never +heard. Sally then went to bed, and the poor woman was so harrished with +one thing or another, that at last she fell asleep.” + +“'Twas the Banshee,” said Shane Fadh. + +“Indeed it was nothing else than that same,” replied M'Roarkin. + +“I wonder Sally didn't think of-that,” said Nancy--“sure she might know +that no living crathur would be out lamenting under such a night as that +was.” + +“She did think of that,” said Tom; “but as no Banshee ever followed +_her own_* family, didn't suppose that it could be such a thing; but she +forgot that it might follow Larry's. I, myself, heard his brother Tom +say, afterwards, that a Banshee used always to be heard before any of +them died.” + + * The Banshee in Ireland is, or rather was, said to follow + only particular families--principally the Old Milesians. It + appeared or was heard before the death of any member of the + family. Its form was always that of a female--weeping, + wailing, wringing its hands, and uttering the national + keene, or lamentation for the dead. Banshee signifies gentle + woman. + +“Did his brother hear it?” Ned inquired. + +“He did,” said Tom, “and his wife along with him, and knew, at once, +that some death would happen in the family--but it wasn't long till he +suspected who it came for; for, as he was going to bed that night, on +looking towards his own hearth, he thought he saw his brother standing +at the fire, with a very sorrowful face upon him. 'Why, Larry,' says he, +'how did you get in, after me barring the door?--or did you turn back +from helping them with the corn? You surely hadn't time to go half the +way since.' + +[Illustration: PAGE 713-- 'Why, Larry,' says he, 'how did you get in'] + +“Larry, however, made him no answer; and, on looking for him again, +there was no Larry there for him. 'Nelly,' says he to his wife, +'did you see any sight of Larry since, he went to the still-house?' +'Arrah, no indeed, Tom,' says she; 'what's coming over you to spake to +the man that's near Drum-furrar by this time?' 'God keep him from harm!' +said Tom;--'poor fellow, I wish nothing ill may happen him this night! +I'm afeard, Nelly, that I saw his _fetch_;* and if I did, he hasn't long +to live; for when one's fetch is seen at this time of night, their lase +of life, let them be sick or in health, is always short.' + + * This in the North of Ireland is called wraith, as in + Scotland. The Fetch is a spirit that assumes the likeness of + a particular person. It does not appear to the individual + himself whose resemblance it assumes, but to some of his + friends. If it is seen in the morning, it betokens long + life; if after sunset, approaching death; after nightfall, + immediate death. + +“'Hut, Tom aroon!' says Nelly, 'it was the shadow of the jamb or +yourself you saw in the light of the candle, or the shadow of the +bed-post.' + +“The next morning they were all up, hoping that he would drop in to +them. Sally got a creel of turf, notwithstanding her condition, and put +down a good fire to warm him; but the morning passed, and no sign of +him. She now got very unasy, and mintioned to his brother what she felt, +and Tom went up to the still-house to know if he was there, or to try if +he could get any tidings of him. But, by the laws! when he heard that +he had left that for home the night before, and he in a state of liquor, +putting this, and what he had heard and seen in his house together, Tom +knew that something must have happened him. He went home again, and on +his way had his eye about him, thinking that it would be no miracle, if +he'd meet him lying head-foremost in a ditch; however, he did not, but +went on, expecting to find him at home before him. + +“In the mane time, the neighbors had been all raised to search for him; +and, indeed, the hills were alive with people. It was the second day +after, that Sally was standing, looking out at her own door towards the +mountains, expecting that every man with a blue coat upon him might be +Larry, when she saw a crowd of people coming down the hills. Her heart +leaped to her mouth, and she sent Dick, the eldest of the sons, to meet +them, and run back with word to her if he was among them. Dick went +away; but he hadn't gone far when he met his uncle Tom, coming on before +the rest. + +“'Uncle,' says Dick, 'did you get my father? for I must fly back with +word to my mother, like lightning.' + +“'Come here, Dick,' says Tom; 'God help you, my poor bouchal (* +boy)--Come here, and walk alongside of me, for you can't go back to your +mother, till I see her first--God help you, my poor bouchal, it's you +that's to be pitied, this blessed and sorrowful day;' and the poor +fellow could by no means keep in the tears. But he was saved the trouble +of breaking the dismal tidings to poor Sally; for as she stood watching +the crowd, she saw a door carried upon their shoulders, with something +like a man stretched upon it. She turned in, feeling as if a bullet had +gone through her head, and sat down with her back to the door, for fraid +she might see the thruth, for she couldn't be quite sure, they we're at +such a distance. At last she ventured to take another look out, for she +couldn't bear what she felt within her, and just as she rose and came +to the door, the first thing she saw coming down the hill a little above +the house, was the body of her husband stretched on a door--dead. At +that minute, her brother-in-law, Tom, just entered, in time to prevent +her and the child she had in her arms from falling on the flure. She +had seen enough, God help her!--for she took labor that instant, and, in +about two hours, afterwards, was stretched a corpse beside her husband, +with her heart-broken and desolate orphans in an uproar of outher misery +about them. That was the end of Larry M'Farland and Sally Lowry; +two that might have done well in the world, had they taken care of +themselves--avoided, fairs and markets--except when they had business +there--not given themselves idle fashions by drinking, or going to +dances, and wrought as well for themselves as they did for others.” + +“But how did he lose his life, at all at all?” inquired Nancy. + +“Why, they found his hat in a bog-hole upon the water, and on searching +the hole itself poor Larry was fished up from the bottom of it.” + +“Well, that's a murdhering sorrowful story,” said Shane Fadh: “but you +won't be after passing that on us for the wake, ainy how.” + +“Well, you must learn patience, Shane,” said the narrator, “for you know +patience is a virtue.” + +“I'll warrant you that Tom and his wife made a better hand of +themselves,” said Alick M'Kinley, “than Larry and Sally did.” + +“Ah! I wouldn't fear, Alick,” said Tom, “but you would come at the +truth--'tis you that may say they did; there wasn't two in the parish +more comfortable than the same two, at the very time that Larry and +Sally came by their deaths. It would do you good to look at their +hagyard--the corn stacks were so nately roped and trimmed, and the walls +so well made up, that a bird could scarcely get into it. Their barn and +cowhouse, too, and dwelling-house, were all comfortably thatched, and +the windies all glazed, with not a broken pane in them. Altogether they +had come on wondherfully; sould a good dale of male and praties every +year; so that in a short time they were able to lay by a little money +to help to fortune off their little girls, that were growing up fine +colleens, all out.” + +“And you may add, I suppose,” said Andy Morrow, “that they lost no time +going to fairs and dances, or other foolish divarsions. I'll engage +they never were at a dance in the Squire's kitchen; that they never went +about losing their time working for others, when their own business +was going at sixes and sevens, for want of hands; nor spent their money +drinking and thrating a parcel of friends that only laugh at them for +their pains, and wouldn't, maybe, put one foot past the other to sarve +them; nor never fought and abused one another for what they both were +guilty of.” + +“Well,” says Tom, “you have saved me some trouble, Mr. Morrow, for you +just said, to a hair, what they were. But I mustn't forget to mintion +one thing that I saw the morning of the berril. We were,--about a dozen +neighbors of us, talking in the street, just before the door; both the +hagyards were forninst us--Tom's snug and nate--but Charley Lawdher had +to go over from where we stood to drive the pig out of poor Larry's. +There was one of the stacks with the side out of it, just as he had +drawn away the sheaves from time to time; for the stack leaned to one +side, and he pulled sheaves out of the other side to keep it straight. +Now, Mr. Morrow, wasn't he an unfortunate man? for whoever would go down +to Squire Dickson's hagyard, would see the same Larry's handiwork so +beautiful and illegant, though his own was in such _brutheen_.* Even +his barn to wrack; and he was obliged to thrash his oats in the open air +when ther would be a frost, and he used to lose one-third of it; and if +there came a thaw, 'twould almost brake the crathur.” + + * Brutheen is potatoes champed with butter. Anything in a + loose, broken, and irregular state, is said to be in + brutheen--that is in disorder and contusion. + +“God knows,” said Nancy, looking over at Ned very significantly, “and +Larry's not alone in neglecting his business; that is, if certain people +were allowed to take their own way; but the truth of it is, that he met +with a bad woman. If he had a careful, sober, industrious wife of his +own, that would take care of the house and place--(_Biddy, will you hand +me over that other dew out of the windy-stool there till I finish this +stocking for Ned_)--the story would have another ending any how.” + +“In throth,” said Tom, “that's no more than thruth, Nancy; but he had +not, and everything went to the bad with them entirely.” + +“It's a thousand pities he hadn't yourself, Nancy,” said Alick, +grinning; “if he had, I haven't the laste doubt at all, but he'd die +worth money.” + +“Go on, Alick--go on, Avick; I will give you lave to have your joke, +any way; for it's you that's the patthern to any man that would wish to +thrive in the world.” + +“If Ned dies, Nancy, I don't know a woman I'd prefer; I'm now a widdy' +these five years; and I feel, somehow, particularly since I began +to spend my evenings here, that I'm disremembering very much the old +proverb--a burnt child, dreads the fire.'” + + * The peasantry of a great portion of Ireland use this word + as applicable to both sexes. + +“Thank you, Alick; you think I swallow that; but as for Ned, the never +a fear of him; except that an increasing stomach is a sign of something; +or what's the best chance of all, Alick, for you and me, that he should +meet Larry's fate in some of his drunken fits.” + +“Now, Nancy,” says Ned, “there's no use in talking that way; it's only +last Thursday, Mr. Morrow, that, in presence of her own brother, Jemmy +Connolly, the breeches-maker, and Billy M'Kinny, there, that I put my +two five fingers acrass, and swore solemnly by them five crosses, +that, except my mind changed, I'd never drink more nor one-half pint of +spirits and three pints of porther in a day.” + +“Oh, hould your tongue, Ned--hould your tongue, and don't make me +spake,” said Nancy; “God help you! many a time you've put the same +fingers acrass, and many a time your mind has changed; but I'll say no +more now--wait till we see how you'll keep it.” + +“Healths a-piece, your sowls,” said Ned, winking at the company. + +“Well, Tom,” said Andy Morrow, “about the wake?” + +“Och, och! that was the merry wake, Mr. Morrow. From that day to this I +remarked, that, living or dead, them that won't respect themselves, or +take care of their families, won't be respected: and sure enough, I saw +full proof of that same at poor Larry's wake. Many a time afterwards I +pitied the childher, for if they had seen better, they wouldn't turn out +as they did--all but the two youngest, that their uncle took to himself, +and reared afterwards; but they had no one to look afther them, and how +could it be expected from what they seen, that good could come of them? +Squire Dickson gave Tom the other seven acres, although he could have +got a higher rint from others; but he was an industrious man that +desarved encouragement, and he got it.” + +“I suppose Tom was at the expense of Larry's berrin, as well as of his +marriage,” said Alick. + +“In troth and he was,” said Tom, “although he didn't desarve it from him +when he was alive;* seeing he neglected many a good advice that Tom +and his dacent woman of a wife often gave him; for all that, blood is +thicker than wather--and it's he that waked and berried him dacently; by +the same token that there was both full and plenty of the best over him: +and everything, as far as Tom was consarned, dacint and creditable about +the place.” + + * The genuine blunders of the Irish--not those studied for + them by men ignorant of their modes of expression and habits + of life--are always significant, clear, and full of strong + sense and moral truth. + +“He did it for his own sake, of coorse,” said Nancy, “bekase one +wouldn't wish, if--they had it at all, to see any one belonging to them +worse off than another at their wake or berrin.” + +“Thrue for you, Nancy,” said M'Roarkin, “and, indeed, Tom was well +spoken of by the neighbors for his kindness to his brother after his +death; and luck and grace attended him for it, and the world flowed upon +him before it came to his own turn.” + +“Well, when a body dies even a natural death, it's wondherful how soon +it goes about; but when they come to an untimely one, it spreads like +fire on a dry mountain.” + +“Was there no inquest?” asked Andy Morrow. + +“The sorra inquist, not making you an ill answer, sir--the people +weren't so exact in them days: but any how the man was dead, and what +good could an inquist do him? The only thing that grieved them was, that +they both died without the priest; and well it might, for it's an awful +thing entirely to die without having the clargy's hands over a body. +I tould you that the news of his death spread over all the counthry +in less than no time. Accordingly, in the coorse of the day, their +relations began to come to the place; but, any way, messengers had been +sent especially for them. + +“The squire very kindly lent sheets for them both to be laid out in, +and mould candle-sticks to hould the lights; and, God he knows, 'twas +a grievous sight to see the father and mother both stretched beside one +another in their poor place, and their little orphans about them; the +gorsoons,--them that had sense enough to know their loss,--breaking +their hearts, the craythurs, and so hoarse, that they weren't able to +cry or spake. But, indeed, it was worse to see the two young things +going over, and wanting to get acrass to waken their daddy and mammy, +poor desolit childher! + +“When the corpses were washed and dressed, they looked uncommonly well, +consitherin'. Larry, indeed, didn't bear death so well as Sally; but +you couldn't meet a purtier corpse than she was in a day's travelling. +I say, when they were washed and dressed, their friends and neighbors +knelt down around them, and offered up a Pather and Ave a-piece, for +the good of their sowls: when this was done, they all raised the keena, +stooping over them at a half bend, clapping their hands, and praising +them, as far as they could say anything good of them; and indeed, the +craythurs, they were never any one's enemy but their own, so that nobody +could say an ill word of either of them. Bad luck to it for potteen-work +every day it rises! only for it, that couple's poor orphans wouldn't be +left without father or mother as they were; nor poor Hurrish go the gray +gate he did, if he had his father living, may be; but having nobody +to bridle him in, he took to horse riding for the squire, and then to +staling them for himself. He was hanged afterwards, along with Peter +Doraghy Crolly, that shot Ned Wilson's uncle of the Black Hills. + +“After the first keening, the friends and neighbors took their sates +about the corpse. In a short time, whiskey, pipes, snuff, and tobacco +came, and every one about the place got a glass and a fresh pipe. Tom, +when he held his glass in his hand, looking at his dead brother, filled +up to the eyes, and couldn't for some time get out a word; at last, +when he was able to spake--'Poor Larry,' says he, 'you're lying there low +before me, and many a happy day we spint with one another. When we were +childher,' said he, turning to the rest, 'we were never asunder; he was +oulder nor me by two years, and can I ever forget the leathering he gave +Dick Rafferty long ago, for hitting me with the rotten egg--although +Dick was a great dale bigger than either of us. God knows, although you +didn't thrive in life, either of you, as you might and could have done, +there wasn't a more neighborly or friendly couple in the parish they +lived in; and now, God help them both, and their poor orphans over them! +Larry, acushla, your health, and Sally, yours; and may God Almighty have +marcy on both your sowls.' + +“After this, the neighbors began to flock in more generally. When any +relation of the corpses would come, as soon, you see, as they'd get +inside the door, whether man or woman, they'd raise the shout of a +keena, and all the people about the dead would begin along with them, +stooping over them and clapping their hands as before. + +“Well, I said, it's it that was the merry wake, and that was only the +thruth, neighbors. As soon as night came, all the young boys and girls +from the countryside about them flocked to it in scores. In a short +time the house was crowded; and maybe there wasn't laughing, and +story-telling, and singing, and smoking, and drinking, and crying--all +going on, heller-skelter, together. When they'd be all in full chorus +this way, may be, some new friend or relation, that wasn't there before, +would come in, and raise the keena; of coorse, the youngsters would then +keep quiet; and if the person coming in was from the one neighborhood +with any of them that were so merry, as soon as he'd raise the shout, +the merry folks would rise up, begin to pelt their hands together, and +cry along with him till their eyes would be as red as a ferret's. +That once over, they'd be down again at the songs, and divarsion, and +divilment--just as if nothing of the kind had taken place: the other +would then shake hands with the friends of the corpses, get a glass or +two, and a pipe, and in a few minutes be as merry as the best of them.” + +“Well,” said Andy Morrow, “I should like to know if the Scotch and +English are such heerum-skeerum kind of people as we Irishmen are.” + +“Musha, in throth I'm sure they're not,” says Nancy, “for I believe +that Irishmen are like nobody in the wide world but themselves; quare +crathurs, that'll laugh or cry, or fight with any one, just for nothing +else, good or bad but company.” + +“Indeed, and you all know, that what I'm sayin's thruth, except Mr. +Morrow there, that I'm telling it to, bekase he's not in the habit of +going to wakes; although, to do him justice he's very friendly in going +to a neighbor's funeral; and, indeed, _kind father for you_* Mr. Morrow, +for it's he that was a real good hand at going to such places. + + * That is, in this point you are the, same kind as your + father; possessing that prominent trait in his disposition + or character. + +“Well, as I was telling you, there was great sport going on. In one +corner, you might see a knot of ould men sitting together, talking over +ould times--ghost stores, fairy tales, or the great rebellion of '41, +and the strange story of Lamh Dearg, or the _bloody hand_--that, +maybe, I'll tell you all some other night, plase God: there they'd sit +smoking--their faces quite plased with the pleasure of the pipe--amusing +themselves and a crowd of people, that would be listening to them with +open mouth. Or, it's odd, but there would be some droll young fellow +among them, taking a rise out of them; and, positively, he'd often find, +them able enough for him, particularly ould Ned Magin, that wanted at +the time only four years of a hundred. The Lord be good to him, and rest +his sowl in glory, it's he that was the pleasant ould man, and could +tell a story with any one that ever got up. + +“In another corner there was a different set, bent on some piece of +divilment of their own. The boys would be sure to get beside their +sweethearts, any how; and if there was a purty girl, as you may set it +down there was, it's there the _skroodging_, (* pressure of the crowd) +and the pushing, and the shoving, and, sometimes, the knocking down +itself, would be, about seeing who'd get her. There's ould Katty Duffy, +that's now as crooked as the hind leg of a dog, and it's herself was +then as straight as a rush, and as blooming as a rose--Lord bless +us, what an alteration time makes upon the strongest and fairest of +us!--it's she that was the purty girl that night, and it's myself that +gave Frank M'Shane, that's still alive to acknowledge it, the broad of +his back upon the flure, when he thought to pull her off my knee. The +very gorsoons and girshas were sporting away among themselves, and +learning one another to smoke in the dark corners. But all this, Mr. +Morrow, took place in the corpse-house, before ten or eleven o'clock at +night; after that time the house got too thronged entirely, and couldn't +huld the half of them; so by jing, off we set, maning all the youngsters +of us, both boys and girls, out to Tom's barn, that was _red up_ (* +Cleared up for us--set in order), there to commence the plays. When we +were gone, the ould people had more room, and they moved about on the +sates we had left them. In the mane time, lashings of tobacco and snuff, +cut in platefuls, and piles of fresh new pipes, were laid on the table +for any one that wished to use them. + +“When we got to the barn, it's then we _took our pumps off_ (* Threw +aside all restraint) in airnest--by the hokey, such sport you never saw. +The first play we began was _Hot-loof_; and maybe there wasn't skelping +then. It was the two parishes of Errigle-Keeran and Errigle-Truagh +against one another. There was the Slip from Althadhawan, for +Errigle-Truagh, against Pat M'Ardle, that had married Lanty Gorman's +daughter of Cargach, for Errigle-Keeran. The way they play it, Mr. +Morrow, is this--two young men out of each parish go out upon the +flure--one of them stands up, then bends himself, sir, at a half bend, +placing his left hand behind on the back part of his ham, keeping it +there to receive what it's to get. Well, there he stands, and the other +coming behind him, places his left foot out before him, doubles up the +cuff of his coat, to give his hand and wrist freedom: he then rises his +right arm, coming down with the heel of his hand upon the other +fellow's palm, under him, with full force. By jing, it's the divil's own +divarsion; for you might as well get a stroke of a sledge as a blow +from one of them able, hard-working fellows, with hands upon them like +lime-stone. When the fellow that's down gets it hot and heavy, the man +that struck him stands bent in his place, and some friend of the other +comes down upon him, and pays him for what the other fellow got. + +“In this way they take it, turn about, one out of each parish, till it's +over; for I believe if they were to pelt one another _since_ (* from +that hour to this), that they'd never give up. Bless my soul, but it was +terrible to hear the strokes that the Slip and Pat M'Ardle did give that +night. The Slip was a young fellow upwards of six feet, with great able +bones and little flesh, but terrible thick shinnins (*sinews); his wrist +was as hard and strong as a bar of iron. M'Ardle was a low, broad man, +with a rucket head and bull neck, and a pair of shoulders that you +could hardly get your arms about, Mr. Morrow, long as they are; it's he, +indeed, that was the firm, well built chap, entirely. At any rate, a man +might as well get a kick from a horse as a stroke from either of them. + +“Little Jemmy Teague, I remimber, struck a cousin of the Slip's a very +smart blow, that made him dance about the room, and blow his fingers for +ten minutes after it. Jemmy, himself, was a tight, smart fellow. When +the Slip saw what his cousin had got, he rises up, and stands over +Jemmy so coolly, and with such good humor, that every one in the house +trembled for poor Jemmy, bekase, you see, whenever the Slip was bent +on mischief, he used always to grin. Jemmy, however, kept himself bent +firm; and to do him justice, didn't flinch from under the stroke, as +many of them did--no, he was like a rock. Well, the Slip, as I said, +stood over him, fixing himself for the stroke, and coming down with such +a pelt on poor Jemmy's hand, that the first thing we saw was the blood +acrass the Slip's own legs and feet, that had burst out of poor Jemmy's +finger-ends. The Slip then stooped to receive the next blow himself, and +you may be sure there was above two dozen up to be at him. No matter; +one man they all gave way to, and that was Pat M'Ardle. + +“'Hould away,' says Pat,--'clear off, boys, all of you--this stroke's +mine by right, any how;--and,' says he, swearing a terrible oath, 'if +you don't sup sorrow for that stroke,' says he to the Slip, 'why Pat +M'Ardle's not behind you here.' + +“He, then, up with his arm, and came down--why, you would think that the +stroke he gave the Slip had druv his right hand into his body: but, any +way, it's he that took full satisfaction for what his cousin got; for +if the Slip's fingers had been cut off at the tops, the blood couldn't +spring out from under his nails more nor it did. After this the Slip +couldn't strike another blow, bekase his hand was disabled out and out. + +“The next play they went to was the _Sitting Brogue_. This is played by +a ring of them sitting down upon the bare ground, keeping their knees +up. A shoemaker's leather apron is then got, or a good stout brogue, and +sent round under their knees. In the mane time one stands in the middle; +and after the brogue is sent round, he is to catch it as soon as he +can. While he stands there, of course, his back must be to some one, and +accordingly those that are behind him thump him right and left with +the brogue, while he, all the time, is striving to catch it. Whoever he +catches this brogue with must stand up in his place, while he sits down +where the other had been, and then the play goes on as before. + +“There's another play called the _Standing Brogue_--where one man gets a +brogue of the same kind, and another stands up facing him with his hands +locked together, forming an arch turned upside down. The man that houlds +the brogue then strikes him with it betune the hands; and even the +smartest fellow receives several pelts before he is able to close his +hands and catch it; but when he does, he becomes brogueman, and the man +who held the brogue stands for him, until he catches it. The same thing +is gone through, from one, to another, on each side, until it is over. + +“The next is _Frimsy Framty_, and is played in this manner:--A chair or +stool is placed in the middle of the flure, and the man who manages the +play sits down upon it, and calls his sweetheart, or the prettiest girl +in the house. She, accordingly, comes forward, and must kiss him. +He then rises up, and she sits down. 'Come, now,' he says, 'fair +maid--Frimsy framsy, who's your fancy?' She then calls them she likes +best, and when the young man she calls comes over and kisses her, he +then takes her place, and calls another girl--and so on, smacking away +for a couple of hours. Well, throth, it's no wonder that Ireland's full +of people; for I believe they do nothing but coort from the time they're +the hoith of my leg. I dunno is it true, as I hear Captain Sloethern's +steward say, that the Englishwomen are so fond of Irishmen?” + +“To be sure it is,” said Shane Fadh; “don't I remimber myself, when Mr. +Fowler went to England--and he as fine looking a young-man, at the time, +as ever got into a saddle--he was riding up the street of London, one +day, and his servant after him--and by the same token he was a thousand +pound worse than nothing; but no matter for that, you see luck was +before him--what do you think, but a rich dressed livery servant came +out, and stopping the Squire's man, axed whose servant he was? + +“'Why, thin,' says Ned Magavran, who-was his body servant at the time, +'bad luck to you, you spalpeen, what a question do you ax, and you +have eyes in your head!' says he--'hard feeling to you!' says he, 'you +vagabone, don't you see I'm my master's?' + +“The Englishman laughed. 'I know that, Paddy,' says he--for they call +us all Paddies in England, as if we had only one name among us, the +thieves; 'but I wish to know his name,' says the Englishman. + +“'You do!' says Ned; 'and by the powers!' says he, 'but you must first +tell me which side of the head you'd wish to hear it an.' + +“'Oh! as for that,' says the Englishman--not up to him, you see----'I +don't care much, Paddy, only let me hear it, and where he lives.' + +“'Just keep your ground, then,' says Ned, 'till I light off this +blood-horse of mine'--he was an ould garron that was fattened up, not +worth forty shillings--'this blood-horse of mine,' says Ned, 'and I'll +tell you.' + +“So down he gets, and lays the Englishman sprawling in the channel. + +“' Take that, you vagabone! says he, and it'll larn you to call +people by their right names agin: I was christened as well as you, you +spalpeen!' + +“All this time the lady was looking out of the windy, breaking her heart +laughing at Ned and the servant; but, behould!--she knew a thing or two, +it seems; for, instead of sending a man at all at all, what does she do +but sends her own maid--a very purty girl, who comes up to Ned, putting +the same question to him. + +“'What's his name, avourneen?' says Ned, melting, to be sure, at the +sight of her 'Why, then, darling, who could refuse you anything?--but, +you jewel! by the hoky, you must bribe me or I'm dumb,' says he. + +“'How could I bribe you?' says she, with a sly smile--for Ned himself +was a well-looking young fellow at the time. + +“'I'll show you that,' says Ned, 'if you tell me where you live; but, +for fraid you forget it--with them two lips of your own, my darling.' + +“'There, in that great house,' says the maid; 'my mistress is one of the +beautifullest and richest young ladies in London, and she wishes to know +where your master could be heard of.' + +“'Is that the house?' says Ned, pointing to it. + +“'Exactly', says she: 'that's it.' 'Well, acushla,' says he, 'you've a +purty and an innocent-looking face; but I'm tould there's many a trap in +London well baited. Just only run over while I'm looking at you, and let +me see that purty face of yours smiling at me out of the windy that that +young lady is peeping at us from.' + +“This she had to do. + +“'My master,' thought Ned, while she was away, 'will aisily find out +what kind of a house it is, any how, if that be it.' + +“In a short time he saw her in the windy, and Ned then gave her a sign +to come down to him. + +“'My master,' says he, 'never was afeard to show his face, or tell his +name to any one--he's a Squire Fowler,' says he--'a Sarjen-major in a +great militia regiment: he shot five men in his time; and there's not a +gentleman in the country he lives in that dare say Boo to his blanket. +And now, what's your name,' says Ned, 'you flattering little blackguard +you?' + +“'My name's Betty Cunningham,' says she. + +“'And next, what's your mistress's, my darling?' says Ned. + +“'There it is,' says she, handing him a card. + +“'Very well,' says Ned, the thief, looking at it with a great air, +making as if he could read; 'this will just do, a _colleen bawn_.' + +“'Do you read in your country with the wrong side of the print up?' says +she. + +“'Up or down,' says Ned, 'it's all one to us in Ireland; but, any how, +I'm left-handed, you deluder!' + +“The upshot of it was, that her mistress turned out to be a great +hairess, and a great beauty; and she and Fowler got married in less than +a month. So, you see, it's true enough that the Englishwomen are fond of +Irishmen,” says Shane; “but, Tom, with, submission for stopping you, go +on with your Wake.” + +“The next play, then, is Marrying----” + +“Hooh!” says Andy Morrow, “why, all their plays are about kissing and +marrying, and the like of that.” + +“Surely and they are, sir,” says Tom. + +“It's all the nathur of the baste,” says Alick. + +“The next is marrying. A bouchal puts an ould dark coat on him, and if +he can, borry a wig from any of the ould men in the wake-house, why, +well and good, he's the liker his work--this is the priest; he takes, +and drives all the young men out of the house, and shuts the door upon +them, so, that they can't get in till he lets them. He then ranges the +girls all beside one another, and, going to the first, makes her name +him she wishes to be her husband; this she does, of coorse, and the +priest lugs him in, shutting the door upon the rest. He then pronounces +this marriage sarvice, when the husband smacks her first, and then +the priest:--'Amo amas, avourneen--in nomine gomine, betwuxt and +between--for hoc erat in votis, squeeze 'em please 'em--omnia vincit +amor, wid two horns to caput nap it--poluphlasboio, the lasses--'Quid,' +says Cleopatra; 'Shid,' says Antony--ragibus et clatibus solemus stapere +windous--nine months--big-bottle, and a honeymoon--Alneas poque Dido' +poque Roymachree--hum not fiem viat--lag rag, merry kerry, Parawig and +breeches--hoc manifestibus omnium--Kiss your wife under the nose, then +seek repose.' 'Tis' done,' says the priest. 'Vinculum trinculum; and +now you're married. Amen!' Well, these two are married, and he places +his wife upon his knee, for fraid of taking up too much room, _you +persave_; there they coort away again, and why shouldn't they? + +“The priest then goes to the next, and makes her name her husband; this +is complied with, and he is brought in after the same manner, but no one +else till they're called: he is then married, and kisses his wife, and +the priest kisses her after him; and so they're all married. + +“But if you'd see them that don't chance to be called at all, the figure +they cut--slipping into some dark corner, to avoid the mobbing they get +from the priest and the others. When they're all united, they must each +sing a song--man and wife, according as they sit; or if they can't sing, +or get some one to do it for them, they're divorced. But the priest, +himself, usually lilts for any one that's not able to give a verse. You +see, Mr. Morrow, there's always in the neighborhood some droll fellow +that takes all these things upon him, and if he happened to be absent, +the wake would be quite dull.” + +“Well,” said Andy Morrow, “have you any more of their sports; Tom?” + +“Ay, have I; one of the best and pleasantest you heard yet.” + +“I hope there's no more coorting in it,” says Nancy; “God knows we're +tired of their kissing and marrying.” + +“Were you always so?” says Ned, across the fire to her. + +“Behave yourself, Ned,” says she; “don't you make me spake; sure you +were set down as the greatest Brine-oge that ever was known, in the +parish, for such things.” + +“No, but don't you make _me_ spake,” replies Ned. + +“Here, Biddy,” said Nancy, “bring that uncle of yours another pint; +that's what he wants most at the present time, I'm thinking.” + +Biddy, accordingly, complied with this. + +“Don't make _me_ spake,” continued Ned. + +“Come, Ned,” she replied, “you've got a fresh pint now; so drink it, and +give me no more _gosther_. (* Gossip--Idle talk.) + +“_Shuid-urth!_“* says Ned, putting the pint to his head, and winking +slyly at the rest. + + * This to you, or upon you; a form of drinking healths. + +“Ay, wink; in troth I'll be up to you for that, Ned,” says Nancy; by +no means satisfied that Ned should enter into particulars. “Well, Tom,” + says she, diverting the conversation, “go on, and give us the remainder +of your Wake.” + +“Well,” says Tom, “the next play is in the milintary line. You see, Mr. +Morrow, the man that leads the sports places them all on their sates, +gets from some of the girls a white handkerchief, which he ties round +his hat, as you would tie a piece of mourning; he then walks round them +two or three times singing, + + Will you list and come with me, fair maid? + Will'you list and come with me, fair maid? + Will you list and come with me, fair maid, + And folly the lad with the white cockade? + +“When he sings this he takes off his hat, and puts it on the head of the +girl he likes best, who rises up and puts her arm around him, and then +they both go about in the same way, singing the same words. She then +puts the hat on some young man, who gets up and goes round with them, +singing as before. He next puts it on the girl he loves best, who, after +singing and going round in the same manner, puts it on another, and he +on his sweetheart, and so on. This is called the White Cockade. When +it's all over, that is, when every young man has pitched upon the girl +that he wishes to be his sweetheart, they sit down, and sing songs, and +coort, as they did at the marrying. + +“After this comes the _Weds or Forfeits_, or what they call +putting round the button. Every one gives in a forfeit--the boys a +neck-handkerchief or a pen-knife, and the girls a pocket-handkerchief +or something that way. The forfeit is held over them, and each of them +stoops in tarn. They are, then, compelled to command the person that +owns that forfeit to sing a song--to kiss such and such a girl--or to +carry some ould man, with his legs about their neck, three times round +the house, and this last is always great fun. Or, maybe, a young, +upsetting fellow, will be sent to kiss some toothless, slavering, ould +woman, just to punish him; or if a young woman is any way saucy, she'll +have to kiss some ould, withered fellow, his tongue hanging with age +half way down his chin, and the tobacco water trickling from each comer +of his mouth. + +“By jingo, many a time, when the friends of the corpse would be breaking +their very hearts with grief and affliction, I have seen them obligated +to laugh out, in spite of themselves, at the drollery of the priest, +with, his ould black coat and wig upon him; and when the laughing fit +would be over, to see them rocking themselves again with the sorrow--so +sad. The best man for managing such sports in this neighborhood, for +many a year, was Roger M'Cann, that lives up as you go to the mountains. +You wouldn't begrudge to go ten miles the cowldest winter night that +ever blew, to see and hear Roger. + +“There's another play that they call the _Priest of the Parish_, which, +is remarkably pleasant. One of the boys gets a wig upon himself as +before--goes out on the flure, places the boys in a row, calls one _his +man Jack_ and says to each 'What will you be?' One answers 'I'll be +black cap;' another--red cap;' and so on. He then says, 'The priest of +the parish has lost his considhering cap some says this, and some says +that, but I say my man Jack!' Man Jack, then, to put it off himself, +says, Is it me, sir?' 'Yes, sir!' 'You lie, sir!' 'Who then, sir?' +'Black cap!' If Black cap, then, doesn't say 'Is it me, sir?' before the +priest has time to call him, he must put his hand on his ham, and get a +pelt of the brogue. A body must be supple with the tongue in it. + +“After this comes one they call _Horns, or the Painter_. A droll fellow +gets a lump of soot or lamp black, and after fixing a ring of the boys +and girls about him, he lays his two fore-fingers on his knees, and +says. 'Horns, horns, cow horns!' and then raises his finders by a jerk +up above his head; the boys and girls in the ring then do the same +thing, for the meaning of the play is this:--the man with the black'ning +always raises his fingers every time he names an animal; but if he names +any that has no horns, and that the others jerk up their fingers, then +they must get a stroke over the face with the soot. 'Horns, horns, goat +horns!'--then he ups with his fingers like lightning; they must all do +the same, bekase a goat has horns. Horns, horns, horse horns!'--he ups +with them again, but the boys and girls ought not, bekase a horse has +not horns; however any one that raises them then, gets a slake. So that +it all comes to this:--Any one, you see that lifts his fingers when an +animal is named that has no horns--or any one that does not raise them +when a baste is mintioned that has horns, will get a mark. It's a purty +game, and requires a keen eye and a quick hand; and, maybe, there's +not fun in straiking the soot over the purty, warm, rosy cheeks of the +colleens, while their eyes are dancing with delight in their heads, +and their sweet breath comes over so pleasant about one's face, the +darlings!--Och! och! + +“There's another game they call the _Silly ould Man_, that's played this +way:--A ring of the boys and girls is made on the flure--boy and girl +about--holding one another by the hands; well and good--a young fellow +gets into the middle of the ring, as 'the silly ould Man.' There he +stands looking at all the girls to choose a wife, and, in the mane time, +the youngsters of the ring sing out-- + + Here's a silly ould Man that lies all alone, + That lies all alone, + That lies all alone; + Here's a silly ould man that lies all alone, + He wants a wife and he can get none. + +“When the' boys and girls sing this, the silly ould man must choose a +wife from some of the colleens belonging to the ring. Having made choice +of her, she goes into the ring along with him, and they all sing out-- + + Now, young couple, you're married together, + You're married together, + You're married together, + You must obey your father and mother, + And love one another like sister and brother-- + I pray, young couple, you'll kiss together! + +“And you may be sure this part of the marriage is not missed, any way.” + +“I doubt,” said Andy Morrow, “that good can't come of so much kissing, +marrying, and coorting.” + +The narrator twisted his mouth knowingly, and gave a significant groan. + +“_Be dhe husth_,* hould your tongue, Misther Morrow,” said he; “Biddy +avour-neen,” he continued, addressing Biddy and Bessy, “and Bessy, +alannah, just take a friend's advice, and never mind going to wakes; to +be sure there's plenty of fun and divarsion at sich places, but--healths +apiece!” putting the pint to his lips--“and that's all I say about it.” + +“Right enough, Tom,” observed Shane Fadh--“sure most of the matches are +planned at them, and, I may say, most of the runaways, too--poor, +young, foolish crathurs, going off, and getting themselves married; then +bringing small, helpless families upon their hands, without money or +manes to begin the world with, and afterwards likely to eat one another +out of the face for their folly; however, there's no putting ould +heads upon young shoulders, and I doubt, except the wakes are stopped +altogether, that it'll be the ould case still.” + +“I never remember being at a counthry wake,” said Andy Morrow. “How is +everything laid out in the house?” + +“Sure it's to you I'm telling the whole story, Mr. Morrow: these thieves +about me here know all about it as well as I do--the house, eh? Why, you +see, the two corpses were stretched beside one another, washed and laid +out. There were long deal boords with their ends upon two stools, laid +over the bodies; the boords were covered with a white sheet got at the +big house, so the corpses were'nt to be seen. On these, again, were +placed large mould candles, plates of cut tobacco, pipes, and snuff, and +so on. Sometimes corpses are waked in a bed, with their faces visible; +when that is the case, white sheets, crosses, and sometimes flowers, are +pinned up about the bed, except in the front; but when they're undher +boord, a set of ould women sit smoking, and rocking themselves from side +to side, quite sorrowful--these are keeners--friends or relations; and +when every one connected with the dead comes in, they raise the keene, +like a song of sorrow, wailing and clapping their hands. + +“The furniture is mostly removed, and sates made round the walls, where +the neighbors sit smoking, chatting, and gosthering. The best of aiting +and dhrinking that they can afford is provided; and, indeed, there is +generally open house, for it's unknown how people injure themselves by +their kindness and waste at christenings, weddings, and wakes. + +“In regard to poor Larry's wake--we had all this, and more at it; for, +as I obsarved a while agone, the man had made himself no friends when +he was living, and the neighbors gave a loose to all kinds of divilment +when he was dead. Although there's no man would be guilty of any +disrespect where the dead are, yet, when a person has led a good life, +and conducted themselves dacently and honestly, the young people of the +neighborhood show their respect by going through their little plays and +divarsions quieter and with less noise, lest they may give any offence; +but, as I said, whenever the person didn't live as they ought to do, +there's no stop to their noise and rollikin. + +“When it drew near morning, every one of us took his sweetheart, and, +after convoying her home, we went to our own houses to get a little +sleep--so that was the end of poor Larry, M'Farland, and his wife, Sally +Lowry. + +“Success, Tom!” said Bill M'Kinnly “take a pull of the malt now, afther +the story, your soul!--But what was the funeral like?” + +“Why, then, a poor berrin it was,” said Tom; “a miserable sight, God +knows--just a few of the neighbors; for those that used to take his +thrate, and while he had a shilling in his pocket blarney him up, not +one of the skulking thieves showed their faces at it--a good warning +to foolish men that throw their money down throats that haven't hearts +anundher them.--But boys, desarve another thrate, I think, afther my +story!” This, we need scarcely add, he was supplied with, and after +some further desultory chat, they again separated, with the intention of +reassembling at Ned's on the following night. + + + + +THE BATTLE OF THE FACTIONS. + + +Accordingly, the next evening found them all present, when it was +determined unanimously that Pat Frayne, the hedge schoolmaster, should +furnish them with the intellectual portion of the entertainment for that +night, their object being each to tell a story in his turn. + +“Very well,” said Pat, “I am quite simultaneous to the wishes of the +company; but you will plaise to observe, that there is clay which is +moist, and clay which is not moist. Now, under certain circumstances, +the clay which is not moist, ought to be made moist, and one of those +circumstances that in which any larned person becomes loquacious, +and indulges in narrative. The philosophical raison, is decided on by +Socrates, and the great Phelim M'Poteen, two of the most celebrated +liquorary characters that ever graced the sunny side of a plantation, +is, that when a man commences a narration with his clay not moist, +the said narration is found, by all lamed experience, to be a very dry +one--ehem!” + +“Very right, Mr. Frayne,” replied Andy Morrow; “so in ordher to avoid +a dhry narrative, Nancy, give the masther a jug of your stoutest to wet +his whistle, and keep him in wind as he goes along.” + +“Thank you, Mr. Morrow--and in requital for your kindness, I will +elucidate you such a sample of unadulterated Ciceronian eloquence, +as would not be found originating from every chimney-corner in this +Province, anyhow. I am not bright, however, at oral relation. I have +accordingly composed into narrative the following tale, which is +appellated 'The Battle of the Factions:'-- + +“My grandfather, Connor O'Callaghan, though a tall, erect man, with +white flowing hair, like snow, that falls profusely about his broad +shoulders, is now in his eighty-third year: an amazing age, considhering +his former habits. His countenance is still marked with honesty and +traces of hard fighting, and his cheeks ruddy and cudgel-worn; his eyes, +though not as black as they often used to be, have lost very little of +that nate fire which characterizes the eyes of the O'Callaghans, and +for which I myself have been--but my modesty won't allow me to allude to +that: let it be sufficient for the present to say that there never was +remembered so handsome a man in his native parish, and that I am as +like him as one Cork-red phatie is to another. Indeed, it has been often +said, that it would be hard to meet an O'Callaghan without a black eye +in his head. He has lost his fore-teeth, however, a point in which, +Unfortunately, I, though his grandson, have strong resemblance to +him. The truth is, they were knocked out of him in rows, before he had +reached his thirty-fifth year--a circumstance which the kind reader +will be pleased to receive in extenuation for the same defect in myself. +That, however, is but a trifle, which never gave either of us much +trouble. + +“It pleased Providence to bring us through many hair-breadth escapes, +with our craniums uncracked; and when we considher that he, on taking a +retrogradation of his past life, can indulge in the plasing recollection +of having broken two skulls in his fighting days, and myself one, +without either of us getting a fracture in return, I think we have both +rason to be thankful. He was a powerful _bulliah battha_ * in his day +and never met a man able to fight him, except big Mucldemurray, who +stood before him the greater part of an hour and a half, in the fair of +Knockimdowny, on the day that the first great fight took place--twenty +years afther the hard, frost--between the O'Callaghans and the +O'Hallaghans. The two men fought single hands--for both factions were +willing to let them try the engagement out, that they might see what +side could boast of having the best man. They began where you enter the +north side of Knockimdowny, and fought successively up to the other end, +then back again to the spot where they commenced, and afterwards up to +the middle of the town, right opposite to the market-place, where my +grandfather, by the same a-token, lost a grinder; but he soon took +satisfaction for that, by giving Mucldemurray a tip above the eye with +the end of an oak stick, dacently loaded with lead, which made the poor +man feel very quare entirely, for the few days that he survived it. + + * Literally the stroke of a cudgel; put for cudgel-player. + +“Faith, if an Irishman happened to be born in Scotland, he would find it +mighty inconvanient--afther losing two or three grinders in a row--to +manage the hard oaten bread that they use there; for which rason, God be +good to his sowl that first invented the phaties, anyhow, because a +man can masticate them without a tooth, at all at all. I'll engage, +if larned books were consulted, it would be found out that he was +an Irishman. I wonder that neither Pastorini nor Columbkill mentions +anything about him in their prophecies concerning the church; for my own +part, I'm strongly inclinated to believe that it must have been Saint +Patrick himself; and I think that his driving all kinds of venomous +reptiles out of the kingdom is, according to the Socrastic method of +argument, an undeniable proof of it. The subject, to a dead certainty, +is not touched upon in the Brehon Code,* nor by any of the three +Psalters,** which is extremely odd, seeing that the earth never produced +a root equal to it in the multiplying force of prolification. It is, +indeed, the root of prosperity to a fighting people: and many a time my +grandfather boasts to this day, that the first bit of bread he ever ett +was a phatie. + + * This was the old code of laws peculiar to Ireland before + the introduction of English legislation into it. + + ** There was properly only two Psalters, those of Tara and + Cashel. The Psalters were collections of genealogical + history, partly in verse; from which latter circumstances + they had their name. + +“In mentioning my grandfather's fight with Mucldemurray, I happened to +name them blackguards, the O'Hallaghans: hard fortune to the same +set, for they have no more discretion in their quarrels, than so many +Egyptian mummies, African buffoons, or any other uncivilized animals. +It was one of them, he that's married to my own fourth cousin, Biddy +O'Callaghan, that knocked two of my grinders out, for which piece of +civility I had the satisfaction of breaking a splinter or two in his +carcase, being always honestly disposed to pay my debts. + +“With respect to the O'Hallaghans, they and our family, have been next +neighbors since before the Flood--and that's as good as two hundred +years; for I believe it's 198, any how, since my great grandfather's +grand-uncle's ould mare was swept out of the 'Island,' in the dead of +the night, about half an hour after the whole country had been ris out +of their beds by the thunder and lightning. Many a field of oats and +many a life, both of beast and Christian, was lost in it, especially of +those that lived on the bottoms about the edge of the river: and it was +true for them that said it came before something; for the next year was +one 'of the hottest summers ever remembered in Ireland. + +“These O'Hallaghans couldn't be at peace with a saint. Before they +and our faction, began to quarrel, it's said that the O'Donnells, +or Donnells, and they had been at it,--and a blackguard set the same +O'Donnells were, at all times--in fair and market, dance, wake, and +berrin, setting the country on fire. Whenever they met, it was heads +cracked and bones broken; till by degrees the O'Donnells fell away, one +after another, from fighting, accidents, and hanging; so that at last +there was hardly the name of one of them in the neighborhood. The +O'Hallaghans, after this, had the country under themselves--were the +cocks of the walk entirely;--who but they? A man darn't look crooked at +them, or he was certain of getting his head in his fist. And when they'd +get drunk in a fair, it was nothing but 'Whoo! for the O'Hallaghans!' +and leaping yards high off the pavement, brandishing their cudgels over +their heads, striking their heels against their hams, tossing up their +hats; and when all would fail, they'd strip off their coats, and trail +them up and down the street, shouting, 'Who dare touch the coat of an +O'Hallaghan? Where's the blackguard Donnells now?'--and so on, till +flesh and blood couldn't stand it. + +“In the course of time, the whole country was turned against them; for +no crowd could get together in which they didn't kick up a row, nor a +bit of stray fighting couldn't be, but they'd pick it up first; and if a +man would venture to give them a contrary answer, he was sure to get the +crame of a good welting for his pains. The very landlord was timorous +of them; for when they'd get behind in their rint, hard fortune to the +bailiff, or proctor, or steward, he could find, that would have anything +to say to them. And the more wise they; for maybe, a month would hardly +pass till all belonging to them in the world would be in a heap of +ashes: and who could say who did it? for they were as cunning as foxes. + +“If one of them wanted a wife, it was nothing but find out the purtiest +and the richest farmer's daughter in the neighborhood, and next march +into her father's house, at the dead hour of night, tie and gag every +mortal in it, and off with her to some friend's place in another part of +the country. Then what could be done? If the girl's parents didn't like +to give in, their daughter's name was sure to be ruined; at all events, +no other man would think of marrying her, and the only plan was, to make +the best of a bad bargain; and God He knows, it was making a bad +bargain for a girl to have any matrimonial concatenation with the same +O'Hallaghans; for they always had the bad drop in them, from first to +last, from big to little--the blackguards! But wait, it's not over with +them yet. + +“The bone of contintion that got, between them and our faction was this +circumstance; their lands and ours were divided by a river that ran down +from the high mountains of Slieve Boglish, and, after a coorse of eight +or ten miles, disembogued itself, first into George Duffy's mill-dam, +and afterwards into that superb stream, the Blackwater, that might be +well and appropriately appellated the Irish Niger. This river, which, +though small at first, occasionally inflated itself to such a gigantic +altitude, that it swept away cows, corn, and cottages, or whatever else +happened to be in the way, was the march ditch, or merin between our +farms. Perhaps it is worth while remarking, as a solution for natural +philosophers, that these inundations were much more frequent in winter +than in summer; though, when they did occur in summer, they were truly +terrific. + +“God be with the days, when I and half a dozen gorsoons used to go out, +of a warm Sunday in summer, the bed of the river nothing but a line of +white meandering stones, so hot that you could hardly stand upon, them, +with a small obscure thread of water creeping invisibly among them, +hiding itself, as it were, from the scorching sun; except here and +there, that you might find a small crystal pool where the streams had +accumulated. Our plan was to bring a pocketful of roche lime with us, +and put it into the pool, when all the fish used to rise on the instant +to the surface, gasping with open mouth for fresh air, and we had only +to lift them out of the water; a nate plan which, perhaps, might be +adopted successfully, on a more extensive scale, by the Irish fisheries. +Indeed, I almost regret that I did not remain in that station of life, +for I was much happier then than ever I was since I began to study and +practice larning. But this is vagating from the subject. + +“Well, then, I have said that them O'Hallaghans lived beside us, and +that this stream divided our lands. About half a quarter--i. e., +to accommodate myself to the vulgar phraseology--or, to speak more +scientifically, one-eighth of a mile from our house was as purty a hazel +glen as you'd wish to see, near half a mile long--its developments and +proportions were truly classical. In the bottom of this glen was a small +green island, about twelve yards, diametrically, of Irish admeasurement, +that is to say, be the same more or less; at all events, it lay in the +way of the river, which, however, ran towards the O'Hallaghan side, and, +consequently, the island was our property. + +“Now, you'll observe, that this river had been, for ages, the merin +between the two farms, for they both belonged to separate landlords, +and so long as it kept the O'Hallighan side of the little peninsula in +question there could be no dispute about it, for all was clear. One wet +winter, however, it seemed to change its mind upon the subject; for it +wrought and wore away a passage for itself on our side of the island, +and by that means took part, as it were, with the O'Hallighans leaving +the territory which had been our property for centhries, in their +possession. This was a vexatious change to us, and, indeed, eventually +produced very feudal consequences. No sooner had the stream changed +sides, than the O'Hallaghans claimed the island as theirs, according +to their tenement; and we, having had it for such length of time in our +possession, could not break ourselves of the habitude of occupying it. +They incarcerated our cattle, and we incarcerated theirs. They summoned +us to their landlord, who was a magistrate; and we summoned them to +ours, who was another. The verdicts were north and south. Their landlord +gave it in favor of them, and ours in favor of us. The one said he had +law on his side; the other, that he had proscription and possession, +length of time and usage. + +“The two squires then fought a challenge upon the head of it, and what +was more singular, upon the disputed spot itself; the one standing on +their side, the other on ours; for it was just twelve paces every way. +Their friend was a small, light man, with legs like drumsticks; the +other was a large, able-bodied gentleman, with a red face and hooked +nose. They exchanged two shots, only one of which--the second--took +effect. It pastured upon their landlord's spindle leg, on which he held +it out, exclaiming, that while he lived he would never fight another +challenge with his antagonist, 'because,' said he, holding out his own +spindle shank, 'the man who could hit that could hit anything.' + +[Illustration: PAGE 725-- The man who could hit that could hit anything] + +“We then were advised, by an attorney, to go to law with them; and they +were advised by another attorney to go to law with us: accordingly, +we did so, and in the course of eight or nine years it might have been +decided, but just at the legal term approximated in which the decision +was to be announced, the river divided itself with mathematical +exactitude on each side of the island. This altered the state and law of +the question in toto; but, in the meantime, both we and the O'Hallaghans +were nearly fractured by the expenses. Now during the lawsuit we usually +houghed and mutilated each other's cattle, according as they trespassed +the premises. This brought on the usual concomitants of various battles, +fought and won by both sides, and occasioned the lawsuit to be dropped; +for we found it a mighty, inconvanient matter to fight it out both ways; +by the same a-token that I think it a proof of stultity to go to law +at all at all, as long as a person is able to take it into his own +management. For the only incongruity in the matter is this: that, in +the one case, a set of lawyers have the law in their hands, and, in the +other, that you have it in your own; that's the only difference, and +'tis easy knowing where the advantage lies. + +“We, however, paid the most of the expenses, and would have _ped_ them +all with the greatest integrity, were it not that our attorney, when +about to issue an execution against our property, happened somehow to be +shot, one evening, as he returned home from a dinner which was given +by him that was attorney for the O'Hallaghans. Many a boast the +O'Hallaghan's made, before the quarrelling between us and them +commenced, that they'd sweep the streets with the fighting O'Callaghans, +which was an epithet that was occasionally applied to our family. We +differed, however, materially from them; for we were honorable, never +starting out in dozens on a single man or two, and beating him into +insignificance. A couple, or maybe, when irritated, three, were the most +we ever set at a single enemy, and if we left him lying in a state +of imperception, it was the most we ever did, except in a regular +confliction, when a man is justified in saving his own skull by breaking +one of an opposite faction. For the truth of the business is, that he +who breaks the skull of him who endeavors to break his own is safest; +and, surely, when a man is driven to such an alternative, the choice is +unhesitating. + +“O'Hallaghans' attorney, however, had better luck; they were, it is +true, rather in the retrograde with him touching the law charges, and, +of coorse, it was only candid in him to look for his own. One morning, +he found that two of his horses had been executed by some incendiary +unknown, in the coorse of the night; and, on going to look at them, +he found a taste of a notice posted on the inside of the stable-door, +giving him intelligence that if he did not find a _horpus corpus_* +whereby to transfer his body out of the country, he would experience +a fate parallel to that of his brother lawyer or the horses. And, +undoubtedly, if honest people never perpetrated worse than banishing +such varmin, along with proctors, and drivers of all kinds, out of a +civilized country, they would not be so very culpable or atrocious. + + * Habeas corpus; the above is the popular pronunciation. + +“After this, the lawyer went to reside in Dublin; and the only bodily +injury he received was the death of a land-agent and a bailiff, who +lost their lives faithfully in driving for rent. They died, however, +successfully; the bailiff having been provided for nearly a year +before the agent was sent to give an account of his stewardship--as the +Authorized Version has it. + +“The occasion on which the first re-encounter between us and the +O'Hallaghans took place, was a peaceable one. Several of our respective +friends undertook to produce a friendly and oblivious potation between +us--it was at a berrin belonging to a corpse who was related to us both; +and, certainly, in the beginning we were all as thick as whigged milk. +But there is no use now in dwelling too long upon that circumstance; +let it be sufficient to assert that the accommodation was effectuated by +fists and cudgels, on both sides--the first man that struck a blow being +one of the friends that wished to bring about the tranquillity. From +that out the play commenced, and God he knows when it may end; for no +dacent faction could give in to another faction without losing their +character, and being kicked, and cuffed, and kilt, every week in the +year. + +“It is the great battle, however, which I am after going to describe: +that in which we and the O'Hallaghans had contrived, one way or other, +to have the parish divided--one-half for them, and the other for us; +and, upon my credibility, it is no exaggeration to declare that the +whole parish, though ten miles by six, assembled itself in the town of +Knockimdowny, upon this interesting occasion. In thruth, Ireland ought +to be a land of mathemathitians; for I am sure her population is well +trained, at all events, in the two sciences of multiplication and +division. Before I adventure, however, upon the narration, I must wax +pathetic a little, and then proceed with the main body of the story. + +“Poor Rose O'Hallaghan!--or, as she was designated--_Rose Galh_, or +_Fair Rose_, and sometimes simply, Rose Hallaghan, because the detention +of the big O often produces an afflatus in the pronunciation, that +is sometimes mighty inconvenient to such as do not understand +oratory--besides, that the Irish are rather fond of sending the liquids +in a gutthural direction--Poor Rose! that faction fight, was a black day +to her, the sweet innocent--when it was well known that there wasn't a +man, woman, or child, on either side that wouldn't lay their hands under +her feet. However, in order to _insense_ the reader better into her +character, I will commence a small sub-narration, which will afterwards +emerge into the parent stream of the story. + +“The chapel of Knockimdowny is a slated house, without any ornament, +except a set of wooden cuts, painted red and blue, that are placed +_seriatum_ around the square of the building in the internal side. +Fourteen* of these suspind at equal distances on the walls, each set in +a painted frame; these constitute a certain species of country devotion. +It is usual, on Sundays, for such of the congregation as are most +inclined to piety, to genuflect at the first of these pictures, and +commence a certain number of prayers to it after the repetition of +which, they travel on their knees along the bare earth to the second, +where they repate another prayer peculiar to that, and so on, till +they finish the grand _tower_ of the interior. Such, however as are +not especially addictated to this kind, of locomotive prayer, collect +together in various knots through the chapel, and amuse themselves by +auditing or narrating anecdotes, discussing policy, or detraction; +and in case it be summer, and the day of a fine texture, they scatter +themselves into little crowds on the chapel-green, or lie at their +length upon the grass in listless groups, giving way to chat and +laughter. + + * These are called the “Fourteen Stations of the Cross.” + +“In this mode, laired on the sunny side of the ditches and hedges, or +collected in rings round that respectable character, the Academician of +the village, or some other well-known Senachie, or story-teller, they +amuse themselves till the priest's arrival. Perhaps, too, some walking +geographer of a pilgrim may happen to be present; and if there be, he +is sure to draw a crowd about him, in spite of all the efforts of the +learned Academician to the contrary. It is no unusual thing to see such +a vagrant, in all the vanity of conscious sanctimony, standing in +the middle of the attentive peasants, like the nave and felloes +of a cart-wheel--if I may be permitted the loan of an apt +similitude--repeating some piece of unfathomable and labyrinthine +devotion, or perhaps warbling, from Stentorian lungs, some _melodia +sacra_, in an untranslatable tongue; or, it may be, exhibiting +the mysterious power of an amber bade fastened as a Decade to his +_paudareens_* lifting a chaff or light bit of straw by the force of its +attraction. This is an exploit which causes many an eye to turn from the +bades to his own bearded face, with a hope, as it were, of being able to +catch a glimpse of the lurking sanctimony by which the knave hoaxes them +in the miraculous. + + * Pilgrims and other impostors pass these things upon the + people as miracles upon a small scale. + +“The amusements of the females are also nearly such as I have drafted +out. Nosegays of the darlings might be seen sated on green banks, or +sauntering about with a sly intention of coming in compact with their +sweethearts, or, like bachelors' buttons in smiling rows, criticising +the young men as they pass. Others of them might be seen screened behind +a hedge, with their backs to the spectators taking the papers off their +curls before small bit of looking-glass placed against the ditch; or +perhaps putting on their shoes and stockings--which phrase can be used +only by the authority of the figure _heusteron proteron_--inasmuch as if +they put on the shoes first, you persave, it would be a scientific job +to get on the stockings after; but it's an idiomatioal expression, and +therefore justifiable. However, it's a general custom in the country, +which I dare to say has not yet spread into large cities, for the young +women to walk bare-footed to the chapel, or within a short distance +of it, that they may exhibit their bleached thread stockings and +well-greased slippers to the best advantage, not pretermitting a +well-turned ankle and neat leg, which, I may fearlessly assert, my fair +country-women can show against any other nation, living or dead. + +“One sunny Sabbath, the congregation of Knockimdowny were thus +assimilated, amusing themselves in the manner I have just outlined; a +series of country girls sat on a little green mount, called the Rabbit +Bank, from the circumstance of its having been formerly an open burrow, +though of late years it has been closed. It was near twelve o'clock, +the hour at which Father Luke O'Shaughran was generally seen topping the +rise of the hill at Larry Mulligan's public-house, jogging on his bay +hack at something between a walk and a trot--that is to say, his horse +moved his fore and hind legs on the off side at one motion, and the +fore and hind legs of the near side in another, going at a kind of dog's +trot, like the pace of an idiot with sore feet in a shower--a pace, +indeed, to which the animal had been set for the last sixteen years, but +beyond which, no force, or entreaty, or science, or power, either divine +or human, of his Reverence could drive him. As yet, however, he had not +become apparent; and the girls already mentioned were discussing the +pretensions which several of their acquaintances had to dress or beauty. + +“'Peggy,' said Katy Carroll to her companion, Peggy Donohue, 'were you +out* last Sunday?' + + * Out.--This expression in remote parts of the country is + understood to mean being at mass. + +“'No, in troth, Katty, I was disappointed in getting my shoes from Paddy +Mellon, though I left him the measure for my foot three weeks agone, +and gave him a thousand warnings to make them duck-nebs; but, instead +of that,' said she, holding out a very purty foot, 'he has made them as +sharp in the toe as a pick-axe, and a full mile too short for me. But +why do ye ax was I out, Katty?' + + * Paddy Mellon--a short, thick-set man, with gray hair, + which he always kept cropped close--the most famous + shoemaker in the parish: in fact the Drummond of a large + district. No shoes considered worth wearing if he did not + make them. But, having admitted this, I am bound in common + justice and honesty to say that so big a liar never put an + awl into leather. No language could describe his iniquity in + this respect. I myself am a living-witness of this. Many a + trudge has the villain taken out of me in my boyhood, and as + sure as I went on the appointed day--which was always + Saturday--so surely did he swear that they would be ready + for me on that day week. He was, as a tradesman, the most + multifarious and barefaced liar I ever met; and what was the + most rascally trait about him, was the faculty he possessed + of making you believe the lie as readily after the fifteenth + repetition of it, as when it was uttered fresh from his + lips. + +“'Oh, nothing,' responded Katty, 'only that you missed a sight, anyway.' + +“'What was it Kitty, ahagur?' asked her companion with mighty great +curiosity. + +“'Why, nothing less, indeed, nor Rose Cullenan decked out in a white +muslin gown, and a black sprush bonnet, tied under her chin wid a +silk ribbon, no less; but what killed us out and out was--you wouldn't +guess?' + +“'Arrah, how could I guess, woman alive? A silk handkerchy, maybe; for I +wouldn't doubt the same Rose but she would be setting herself up for the +likes of such a thing.' + +“'It's herself that had, as red as scarlet, about her neck; but that's +not it.' + +“'Arrah, Katty, tell it to us at wanst; out with it, ahagur; sure +there's no treason in it, anyhow.' + +“'Why, thin, nothing less nor a crass-bar red-and-white +pocket-handkerchy, to wipe her purty complexion wid!' + +“To this Peggy replied by a loud laugh, in which it was difficult to say +whether there was more of satire than astonishment. + +“'A pocket-handkerchy!' she exclaimed; 'musha, are we alive afther +that, at all at all! Why, that bates Molly M'Cullagh and her red mantle +entirely. I'm sure, but it's well come up for the likes of her, a poor, +imperint crathur, that sprung from nothing, to give herself such airs.' + +“'Molly M'Cullagh, indeed,' said Katty, 'why, they oughtn't to be +mintioned in the one day, woman. Molly's come of a dacent ould stock, +and kind mother for her to keep herself in genteel ordher at all times; +she sees nothing else, and can afford it, not all as one as the other +flipe* that would go to the world's end for a bit of dress.' + + * Flipe--One who is “flippant”--of which word it is the + substantive, and a good one too. + +“' Sure she thinks she's a beauty, too, if you plase,' said Peggy, +tossing her head with an air of disdain; 'but tell us, Katty, how did +the muslin sit upon her at all, the upsetting crathur?' + +“'Why, for all the world like a shift on a Maypowl, or a stocking on a +body's nose: only nothing killed us outright but the pocket-handkerchy!' + +“'Hut!' said the other, 'what could we expect from a proud piece like +her, that brings a Manwill* to mass every Sunday, purtending she can +read in it, and Jem Finigan saw the wrong side of the book towards her, +the Sunday of the Purcession!' ** + + * Manuel--a Catholic Prayer-book. + + ** The priest described in “Ned M'Keown” having been + educated on the Continent, was one of the first to introduce + the Procession of the Host in that part of the country. The + Consecrated Host, shrined in a silver vessel formed like a + chalice, was borne by a priest under a silken canopy; and to + this the other clergymen present offered up incense from a + censer, whilst they circumambulated the chapel inside and + out, if the day was fine. + +“At this hit they both formed another risible junction, quite as +sarcastic as the former--in the midst of which the innocent object of +their censure, dressed in all her obnoxious finery, came up and joined +them. She was scarcely sated--I blush to the very point of my pen during +the manuscription--when the confabulation assumed a character directly +antipodial to that which marked the precedent dialogue. + +“'My gracious, Rose, but that's a purty thing you have got in your +gown!--where did you buy it?' + +“'Och, thin, not a one of myself likes it over much. I'm sorry I didn't +buy a gingham: I could have got a beautiful patthern, all out, for two +shillings less; but they don't wash so well as this. I bought it in +Paddy McGartland's, Peggy.' + +“'Troth, it's nothing else but a great beauty; I didn't see anything on +you this long time that becomes you so well, and I've remarked that you +always look best in white.' + +“'Who made it, Rose?' inquired Katty; 'for it sits illegant' + +“'Indeed,' replied Rose, 'for the differ of the price, I thought it +better to bring it to Peggy Boyle, and be sartin of not having it +spoiled. Nelly Keenan made the last; and although there was a full +breadth more in it nor this, bad cess to the one of her but spoiled it +on me; it was ever so much too short in the body, and too tight in the +sleeves, and then I had no step at all at all.' + +“'The sprush bonnet is exactly the fit for the gown,' observed Katty; +'the black and the white's jist the cut--how many yards had you, Rose?' + +“'Jist ten and a half; but the half-yard was for the tucks.' + +“'Ay, faix! and brave full tucks she left in it; ten would do me, Rose?' + +“'Ten!--no, nor ten and a half; you're a size bigger nor me at the +laste, Peggy; but you'd be asy fitted, you're so well made.' + +“'Rose, _darling_,' said Peggy, 'that's a great beauty, and shows off +your complexion all to pieces; you have no notion how well you look in +it and the sprush.' + +“In a few minutes after this her namesake, Rose Galh O'Hallaghan, came +towards the chapel, in society with her father, mother, and her two +sisters. The eldest, Mary, was about twenty-one; Rose, who was the +second, about nineteen, or scarcely that; and Nancy, the junior of the +three, about twice seven. + +“'There's the O'Hallaghans,' says Rose. + +“'Ay,' replied Katty; 'you may talk of beauty, now; did you ever lay +your two eyes on the likes of Rose for downright--musha, if myself knows +what to call it--but, anyhow, she's the lovely crathur to look at.' + +“Kind reader, without a single disrespectful insinuation against any +portion of the fair sex, you may judge what Rose O'Hallaghan must have +been, when even these three were necessitated to praise her in her +absence! + +“'I'll warrant,' observed Katty, 'we'll soon be after seeing John +O'Callaghan'--(he was my own cousin)--'sthrolling afther them, at his +ase.' + +“'Why,' asked Rose, 'what makes you say that?' + +“'Bekase,' replied the other, I've a rason for it.' + +“'Sure John O'Callaghan wouldn't be thinking of her,' observed Rose, +'and their families would see other shot: their factions would never +have a crass marriage, anyhow.' + +“'Well,' said Peggy, 'it's the thousand pities that the same two +couldn't go together; for fair and handsome as Rose is, you'll not deny +but John comes up to her; but I faix! sure enough it's they that's the +proud people on both sides, and dangerous to make or meddle with, not +saying that ever there was the likes of the same two for dacency and +peaceableness among either of the factions.' + +“'Didn't I tell yez?' cried Katty; 'look at him now staling afther her; +and it'll be the same thing going home again; and, if Rose is not much +belied, it's not a bit displasing to her.' + +“'Between ourselves, observed Peggy, it would be no wondher the darling +young crathur would fall in love with him; for you might thravel the +country afore you'd meet with his fellow for face and figure.' + +“'There's Father Ned,' remarked Katty; 'we had betther get into the +chapel before the _scroodgin_ comes an, or your bonnet and gown, Rose, +won't be the betther for it.' + +“They now proceeded to the chapel, and those who had been amusing +themselves after the same mode, followed their exemplar. In a short time +the hedges and ditches adjoining the chapel were quite in solitude, with +the exception of a few persons from the extreme parts of the parish, who +might be seen running with all possible velocity 'to overtake mass,' as +the phrase on that point expresses itself. + +“The chapel of Knockimdowny was situated at the foot of a range of lofty +mountains; a by-road went past the very door, which had under subjection +a beautiful extent of cultivated country, diversificated by hill and +dale, or rather by hill and hollow; for, as far as my own geographical +knowledge goes, I have uniformly found them inseparable. It was also +ornamented with the waving verdure of rich corn-fields and meadows, not +pretermitting phatie-fields in full blossom--a part of rural landscape +which, to my utter astonishment, has escaped the pen of poet, and the +brush of painter; although I will risk my reputation as a man of pure +and categorical taste, if a finer ingredient in the composition of a +landscape could be found than a field of Cork-fed phaties or Moroky +_blacks_ in full bloom, allowing a man to judge by the pleasure they +confer upon the eye, and therefore to the heart. About a mile up from +the chapel, towards the south, a mountain-stream, not the one already +intimated--over which there was no bridge, crossed the road. But in lieu +of a bridge, there was a long double plank laid over it, from bank to +bank; and as the river was broad, and not sufficiently incarcerated +within its channel, the neighbors were necessitated to throw these +planks across the narrowest part they could find in the contiguity of +the road. This part was consequently the deepest, and, in floods, the +most dangerous; for the banks were elevated as far as they went, and +quite tortuositous. + +“Shortly after the priest had entered the chapel, it was observed +that the hemisphere became, of a sudden, unusually obscure, though the +preceding part of the day had not only been uncloudously bright, but hot +in a most especial manner. The obscurity, however, increased rapidly, +accompanied by that gloomy stillness which always takes precedence of a +storm, and fills the mind with vague and interminable terror. But this +ominous silence was not long unfractured; for soon after the first +appearance of the gloom, a flash of lightning quivered through the +chapel, followed by an extragavantly loud clap of thunder, which shook +the very glass in the windows, and filled the congregation to the brim +with terror. Their dismay, however, would have been infinitely greater, +only for the presence of his Reverence, and the confidence which might +be traced to the solemn occasion on which they were assimilated. + +“From this moment the storm became progressive in dreadful magnitude, +and the thunder, in concomitance with the most vivid flashes of +lightning, pealed through the sky, with an awful grandeur and +magnificence, that were exalted and even rendered more sublime by +the still solemnity of religious worship. Every heart now prayed +fervently--every spirit shrunk into a deep sense of its own guilt and +helplessness--and every conscience was terror-stricken, as the voice of +an angry God thundered out of his temple of storms though the heavens; +for truly, as the Authorized Version has it, 'darkness was under his +feet, and his pavilion round about was dark waters, and thick clouds of +the skies, because he was wroth.' + +“The rain now condescended in even-down torrents, and thunder succeeded +thunder in deep and terrific peals, whilst the roar of the gigantic +echoes that deepened and reverberated among the glens and hollows, +'laughing in their mountain mirth,'--hard fortune to me, but they made +the flesh creep on my bones! + +“This lasted for an hour, when the thunder slackened: but the rain still +continued. As soon as mass was over, and the storm had elapsed, except +an odd peal which might be heard rolling at a distance behind the hills, +the people began gradually to repover their spirits, and enter into +confabulation; but to venture out was still impracticable. For +about another hour it rained incessantly, after which it ceased; the +hemisphere became lighter--and the sun shone out once more upon the +countenance of nature with its former brightness. The congregation then +decanted itself out of the chapel--the spirits of the people dancing +with that remarkable buoyancy or juvenility which is felt after a +thunderstorm, when the air is calm, soople, and balmy--and all nature +garmented with glittering verdure and light. The crowd next began to +commingle on their way home, and to make the usual observations upon the +extraordinary storm which had just passed, and the probable effect it +would produce on the fruit and agriculture of the neighborhood. + +“When the three young women, whom we have already introduced to our +respectable readers, had evacuated the chapel, they determined to +substantiate a certitude, as far as their observation could reach, as +to the truth of what Kitty Carroll had hinted at, in reference to John +O'Callaghan's attachment to Rose Galh O'Hallaghan, and her taciturn +approval of it. For this purpose they kept their eye upon John, who +certainly seemed in no especial hurry home, but lingered upon the chapel +green in a very careless method. Rose Galh, however, soon made her +appearance, and, after going up the chapel-road a short space, John +slyly walked at some distance behind, without seeming to pay her any +particular notice, whilst a person up to the secret might observe Rose's +bright eye sometimes peeping back to see if he was after her. In this +manner they proceeded until they came to the river, which, to their +great alarm, was almost fluctuating over its highest banks. + +“A crowd was now assembled, consulting as to the safest method of +crossing the planks, under which the red boiling current ran, with less +violence, it is true, but much deeper than in any other part of the +stream. The final decision was, that the very young and the old, and +such as were feeble, should proceed by a circuit of some miles to a +bridge that crossed it, and that the young men should place themselves +on their knees along the planks, their hands locked in each other, thus +forming a support on one side, upon which such as had courage to venture +across might lean, in case of accident or megrim. Indeed, anybody that +had able nerves might have crossed the planks without this precaution, +had they been dry; but, in consequence of the rain, and the frequent +attrition of feet, they were quite slippery; and, besides, the flood +rolled terrifically two or three yards below them, which might be apt to +beget a megrim that would not be felt if there was no flood. + +“When this expedient had been hit upon, several young men volunteered +themselves to put it in practice; and in a short time a considerable +number of both sexuals crossed over, without the occurrence of any +unpleasant accident. Paddy O'Hallaghan and his family had been stationed +for some time on the bank, watching the success of the plan; and as +it appeared not to be attended with any particular danger, they also +determined to make the attempt. About a perch below the planks stood +John O'Callaghan, watching the progress of those who were crossing +them, but taking no part in what was going forward. The river, under the +planks, and for some perches above and below them, might be about ten +feet deep; but to those who could swim, it was less perilous, should any +accident befall them, than those parts where the current was more rapid, +but shallower. The water here boiled, and bubbled, and whirled about; +but it was slow, and its yellow surface unbroken by rocks or fords. + +“The first of the O'Hallaghans that ventured over it was the youngest, +who, being captured by the hand, was encouraged by many cheerful +expressions from the young men who were clinging to the planks. She got +safe over, however; and when she came to the end, one who was stationed +on the bank gave her a joyous pull, that translated her several yards +upon terra firma. + +“'Well, Nancy,' he observed, 'you're safe, anyhow; and if I don't dance +at your wedding for this, I'll never say you're dacent.' + +“To this Nancy gave a jocular promise, and he resumed his station, that +he might be ready to render similar assistance to her next sister. Rose +Galh then went to the edge of the plank several times, but her courage +as often refused to be forthcoming. During her hesitation, John +O'Callaghan stooped down, and privately untied his shoes, then +unbuttoned his waistcoat, and very gently, being unwilling to +excite notice, slipped the knot of his cravat. At long last, by the +encouragement of those who were on the plank, Rose attempted the +passage, and had advanced as far as the middle of it, when a fit of +dizziness and alarm seized her with such violence, that she lost all +consciousness--a circumstance of which those who handed her along were +ignorant. The consequence, as might be expected, was dreadful; for as +one of the young men was receiving her hand, that he might pass her to +the next, she lost her momentum, and was instantaneously precipitated +into the boiling current. + +“The wild and fearful cry of horror that succeeded this cannot be laid +on paper. The eldest sister fell into strong convulsions, and several +of the other females fainted on the spot. The mother did not faint; +but, like Lot's wife, she seemed to be translated into stone: her hands +became clenched convulsively, her teeth locked, her nostrils dilated, +and her eyes shot half way out of her head. There she stood, looking +upon her daughter struggling in the flood, with a fixed gaze or wild and +impotent frenzy, that, for fearful ness, beat the thunder-storm all to +nothing. The father rushed to the edge of the river, oblivious of his +incapability to swim, determined to save her or lose his own life, which +latter would have been a dead certainty, had he ventured; but he was +prevented by the crowd, who pointed out to him the madness of such a +project. + +“'For God's sake, Paddy, don't attimpt it,' they exclaimed, 'except +you wish to lose your own life, without being able to save hers: no man +could swim in that flood, and it upwards of ten feet deep.' + +“Their arguments, however, were lost upon him; for, in fact, he was +insensible to everything but his child's preservation. He, therefore, +only answered their remonstrances by attempting to make another plunge +into the river. + +“'Let me alone, will yez,' said he--'let me alone! I'll either save my +child, Rose, or die along with her! How could I live after her? Merciful +God, any of them but her! Oh! Rose, darling,' he exclaimed, 'the +favorite of my heart--will no one save you?' All this passed in less +than a minute. + +“'Just as these words were uttered, a plunge was heard a few yards below +the bridge, and a man appeared in the flood, making his way with rapid +strokes to the drowning girl. Another cry now arose from the spectators: +'It's John O'Callaghan,' they shouted--'it's John O'Callaghan, and +they'll both be lost.' 'No,' exclaimed others; 'if it's in the power of +man to save her, he will!' 'O, blessed father, she's lost!' now burst +from all present; for, after having struggled and been kept floating for +some time by her garments, she at length sunk, apparently exhausted and +senseless, and the thief of a flood flowed over her, as if she had not +been under it's surface. + +“When O'Callaghan saw that she went down, he raised himself up in the +water, and cast his eye towards that part of the bank opposite which she +disappeared, evidently, as it proved, that he might have a mark to guide +him in fixing on the proper spot where to plunge after her. When he came +to the place, he raised himself again in the stream, and, calculating +that she must by this time have been borne some distance from the spot +where she sank, he gave a stroke or two down the river, and disappeared +after her. This was followed by another cry of horror and despair, +for somehow, the idea of desolation which marks, at all times, a deep, +over-swollen torrent, heightened by the bleak mountain scenery around +them, and the dark, angry voracity of the river where they had sunk, +might have impressed the spectators with utter hopelessness as to the +fate of those now engulfed in its vortex. This, however, I leave to +those who are deeper read in philosophy than I am. + +“An awful silence succeeded the last shrill exclamation, broken only by +the hoarse rushing of the waters, whose wild, continuous roar, booming +hollowly and dismally in the ear, might be heard at a great distance +over all the country. But a new sensation soon invaded the multitude; +for after the lapse of about half a minute, John O'Callaghan emerged +from the flood, bearing in his sinister hand the body of his own Rose +Galh--for it's he that loved her tenderly. A peal of joy congratulated +them from the assembled crowd; hundreds of directions were given to him +how to act to the best advantage. Two young men in especial, who were +both dying about the lovely creature that he held, were quite anxious to +give advice. + +“'Bring her to the other side, John, ma bouchal; it's the safest,' said +Larry Carty. + +“'Will you let him alone, Carty?' said Simon Tracy, who was the other, +'you'll only put him in a perplexity.' + +“But Carty should order in spite of every thing. He kept bawling out, +however, so loud, that John raised his eye to see what he meant, and was +near losing hold of Rose. This was too much for Tracy, who ups with his +fist, and downs him--so they both at it; for no one there could take +themselves off those that were in danger, to interfere between them. +But at all events, no earthly thing can happen among Irishmen without a +fight. + +“The father, during this, stood breathless, his hands clasped, and +his eyes turned to heaven, praying in anguish for the delivery of his +darling. The mother's look was still wild and fixed, her eyes glazed, +and her muscles hard and stiff; evidently she was insensible to all that +was going forward; while large drops of paralytic agony hung upon her +cold brow. Neither of the sisters had yet recovered, nor could those +who supported them turn their eyes from the more imminent danger, to pay +them any particular attention. Many, also, of the other females, whose +feelings were too much wound up when the accident occurred, now fainted, +when they saw she was likely to be rescued; but most of them were +weeping with delight and gratitude. + +“When John brought her to the surface, he paused for a moment to recover +breath and collectedness; he then caught her by the left arm, near +the shoulder, and cut, in a slanting direction, down the stream, to a +watering place, where a slope had been formed in the bank. But he was +already too far down to be able to work across the stream to this point; +for it was here much stronger and more rapid than under the planks. +Instead, therefore, of reaching the slope, he found himself in spite +of every effort to the contrary, about a perch below it; and, except he +could gain this point, against the strong rush of the flood, there was +very little hope of being able to save either her or himself--for he was +now much exhausted. + +“Hitherto, therefore, all was still doubtful, whilst strength was fast +failing him. In this trying and almost hopeless situation, with an +admirable presence of mind, he adopted the only expedient which could +possibly enable him to reach the bank. On finding himself receding down, +instead of advancing up the current, he approached the bank, which was +here very deep and perpendicular; he then sank his fingers into and +pressed his right foot against the firm blue clay with which it was +stratified, and by this means advanced, bit by bit, up the stream, +having no other force by which to propel himself against it. After this +mode did he breast the current with all his strength--which must have +been prodigious, or he never could have borne it out--until he reached +the slope, and got from the influence of the tide, into dead water. On +arriving here, his hand was caught by one of the young men present, who +stood up to the neck, waiting his approach. A second man stood behind +him, holding his other hand, a link being thus formed, that reached out +to the firm bank; and a good pull now brought them both to the edge +of the river. On finding bottom, John took his Colleen Galh in his own +arms, carried her out, and pressing his lips to hers, laid her in +the bosom of her father; then, after taking another kiss of the young +drowned flower, he burst into tears, and fell powerless beside her. The +truth is, the spirit that had kept him firm was now exhausted; both his +legs and arms having become nerveless by the exertion. + +“Hitherto her father took no notice of John, for how could he? seeing +that he was entirely wrapped up in his daughter; and the question was, +though rescued from the flood, if life was in her. The sisters were by +this time recovered, and weeping over her, along with the father--and, +indeed, with all present; but the mother could not be made to comprehend +what they were about at all at all. The country people used every means +with which they were intimate to recover Rose; she was brought instantly +to a farmer's house beside the spot, put into a warm bed, covered over +with hot salt, wrapped in half-scorched blankets, and made subject to +every other mode of treatment that could possibly revoke the functions +of life. John had now got a dacent draught of whiskey, which revived +him. He stood over her, when he could be admitted, watching for the +symptomatics of her revival; all, however, was vain. He now determined +to try another course: by-and-by he stooped, put his mouth to her mouth, +and, drawing in his breath, respired with all his force from the bottom +of his very heart into hers; this he did several times rapidly--faith, +a tender and agreeable operation, any how. But mark the consequence: +in less than a minute her white bosom heaved--her breath returned--her +pulse began to play--she opened her eyes, and felt his tears of love +raining warmly on her pale cheek! + +“For years before this no two of these opposite factions had spoken, nor +up to this minute had John and they, even upon this occasion, exchanged +a monosyllable. The father now looked at him--the tears stood afresh in +his eyes; he came forward--stretched out his hand--it was received; and +the next moment he fell upon John's neck, and cried like an infant. + +“When Rose recovered, she seemed as if striving to recordate what had +happened; and, after two or three minutes, inquired from her sister, in +a weak but sweet voice, 'Who saved me?' + +“''Twas John O'Callaghan, Rose darling,' replied the sister, in tears, +'that ventured his own life into the boiling flood, to save yours--and +did save it, jewel!' + +“Rose's eye glanced at John--and I only wish, as I am a bachelor not +further than my forty-fourth, that I may ever have the happiness to get +such a glance from two blue eyes, as she gave him that moment--a faint +smile played about her mouth, and a slight blush lit up her fair cheek, +like the evening sunbeams on the virgin snow, as the poets have said for +the five-hundredth time, to my own personal knowledge. She then extended +her hand, which John, you may be sure, was no way backward in receiving, +and the tears of love and gratitude ran silently down her cheeks. + +“It is not necessary to detail the circumstances of this day farther; +let it be sufficient to say, that a reconciliation took place between +those two branches of the O'Hallaghan and O'Callaghan families, in +consequence of John's heroism and Rose's soft persuasion, and that there +was, also, every perspective of the two factions being penultimately +amalgamated. For nearly a century they had been pell-mell at it, +whenever and wherever they could meet. Their forefathers, who had been +engaged in the lawsuit about the island which I have mentioned, wore +dead and petrified in their graves; and the little peninsula in the glen +was gradationally worn away by the river, till nothing remained but +a desert, upon a small scale, of sand and gravel. Even the ruddy, +able-bodied squire, with the longitudinal nose, projecting out of his +face like a broken arch, and the small, fiery magistrate--both of whom +had fought the duel, for the purpose of setting forth a good example, +and bringing the dispute to a peaceable conclusion--were also dead. The +very memory of the original contention! had been lost (except that it +was preserved along with the cranium of my grandfather), or became so +indistinct that the parties fastened themselves on some more modern +provocation, which they kept in view until another fresh motive would +start up, and so on. I know not, however, whether it was fair to expect +them to give up at once the agreeable recreation of fighting. It's not +easy to abolish old customs, particularly diversions; and every one +knows that this is our national amusement. + +“There were, it is true, many among both, factions who saw the matter in +this reasonable light, and who wished rather, if it were to cease, that +it should die away by degrees, from the battle of the whole parish, +equally divided between the factions, to the subordinate row between +certain members of them--from that to the faint broil of certain +families, and so on to the single-handed play between individuals. At +all events, one-half of them were for peace, and two-thirds of them were +equally divided between peace and war. + +“For three months after the accident which befell Rose Galh O'Hallaghan, +both factions had been tolerantly quiet--that is to say, they had no +general engagement. Some slight skirmishes certainly did take place on +market-nights, when the drop was in, and the spirits up; but in those +neither John nor Rose's immediate families took any part. The fact was, +that John and Rose were on the evening of matrimony; the match had been +made--the day appointed, and every other necessary stipulation +ratified. Now, John was as fine a young man as you would meet in a day's +traveling; and as for Rose, her name went far and near for beauty: and +with justice, for the sun never shone on a fairer, meeker, or modester +virgin than Rose Galh O'Hallaghan. + +“It might be, indeed, that there were those on both sides who thought +that, if the marriage was obstructed, their own sons and daughters would +have a better chance. Rose had many admirers; they might have envied +John his happiness; many fathers, on the Other side, might have +wished their sons to succeed with Rose. Whether I am sinister in this +conjecture is more than I can say. I grant, indeed, that a great portion +of it is speculation on my part. The wedding-day, however, was arranged; +but, unfortunately, the fair-day of Knockimdowny occurred, in the +rotation of natural time, precisely one week before it. I know not from +what motive it proceeded, but the factions on both sides were never +known to make a more light-hearted preparation for battle. Cudgels +of all sorts and sizes (and some of them, to my own knowledge, great +beauties) were provided. + +“I believe I may as well take this opportunity of saying that real +Irish cudgels must be root-growing, either oak, black-thorn, or +crab-tree--although crab-tree, by the way, is apt to fly. They should +not be too long--three feet and a few inches is an accommodating length. +They must be naturally top-heavy, and have around the end that is +to make acquaintance with the cranium three or four natural lumps, +calculated to divide the flesh in the natest manner, and to leave, if +possible, the smallest taste in life of pit in the skull. But if a good +root-growing _kippeen_ be light at the fighting-end, or possess not the +proper number of knobs, a hole, a few inches deep, is to be bored in +the end, which must be filled with melted lead. This gives it a +widow-and-orphan-making quality, a child-bereaving touch, altogether +very desirable. If, however, the top splits in the boring--which, in +awkward hands, is not uncommon--the defect may be remediated by putting +on an iron ferrule, and driving two or three strong nails into it, +simply to preserve it from flying off; not that an Irishman is ever at a +loss for weapons when in a fight, for so long as a scythe, flail, spade, +pitchfork, or stone is at hand, he feels quite contented with the lot +of war. No man, as they say of great statesmen, is more fertile in +expedients during a row; which, by the way, I take to be a good quality, +at all events. + +“I remember the fair-day of Knockimdowny well; it has kept me from +griddle-bread and tough nutriment ever since. Hard fortune to Jack Roe +O'Hallaghan! No man had better teeth than I had till I met with him that +day. He fought stoutly on his own side; but he was ped then for the +same basting that fell to me, though not by my hands, if to get his jaw +dacently divided into three halves could be called a fair liquidation of +an old debt--it was equal to twenty shillings in the pound, any how. + +“There had not been a larger fair in the town of Knockimdowny for years. +The day was dark and sunless, but sultry. On looking through the crowd, +I could see no man! without a cudgel; yet, what was strange, there was +no certainty of any sport. Several desultory skrimmages had locality, +but they I were altogether sequestered from the great factions of the +O's. Except that it was pleasant and stirred one's blood to look at +them, or occasioned the cudgels to be grasped more firmly, there was no +personal interest felt by any of us in them; they therefore began and +ended, here and there, through the fair, like mere flashes in the pan, +dying in their own smoke. + +“The blood of every prolific nation is naturally hot; but when that hot +blood is inflamed by ardent spirits, it is not to be supposed that men +should be cool; and God he knows, there is not on the level surface of +this habitable globe, a nation that has been so thoroughly inflamed by +ardent spirits of all kinds as Ireland. + +“Up till four o'clock that day, the factions were quiet. Several +relations on both sides had been invited to drink by John and Rose's +families, for the purpose of establishing a good feeling between them. +But this was, after all, hardly to be expected, for they hated one +another with an ardency much too good-humored and buoyant; and, between +ourselves, to bring Paddy over a bottle is a very equivocal mode of +giving him an anti-cudgeling disposition. After the hour of four, +several of the factions were getting very friendly, which I knew at the +time to be a bad sign. Many of them nodded to each other, which I +knew to be a worse one; and some of them shook hands with the greatest +cordiality, which I no sooner saw than I slipped the knot of my cravat, +and held myself in preparation for the sport. + +“I have often had occasion to remark--and few men, let me tell you, had +finer opportunities of doing so--the differential symptomatics between a +Party Fight, that is, a battle between Orangemen and Ribbon-men, and one +between two Roman Catholic Factions. There is something infinitely more +anxious, silent, and deadly, in the compressed vengeance, and the hope +of slaughter, which characterize a party fight, than is to be seen in +a battle between factions. The truth is, the enmity is not so deep +and well-grounded in the latter as in the former. The feeling is not +political nor religious between the factions; whereas, in the other, it +is both, which is a mighty great advantage; for when this is adjuncted +to an intense personal hatred, and a sense of wrong, probably arising +from a too intimate recollection of the leaded black thorn, or the +awkward death of some relative, by the musket or the bayonet, it is apt +to produce very purty fighting, and much respectable retribution. + +“In a party fight, a prophetic sense of danger, hangs, as it were, over +the crowd--the very air is loaded with apprehension; and the vengeance +burst is proceeded by a close, thick darkness, almost sulphury, that is +more terrifical than the conflict itself, though dearly less dangerous +and fatal. The scowl of the opposing parties, the blanched cheeks, the +knit brows, and the grinding teeth, not pretermitting the deadly gleams +that shoot from their kindled eyes, are ornaments which a plain battle +between factions cannot boast, but which, notwithstanding, are very +suitable to the fierce and gloomy silence of that premeditated vengeance +which burns with such intensity in the heart, and scorches up the vitals +into such a thirst for blood. Not but that they come by different means +to the same conclusion; because it is the feeling, and not altogether +the manner of operation, that is different. + +“Now a faction fight doesn't resemble this at all at all. Paddy's at +home here; all song, dance, good-humor, and affection. His cheek is +flushed with delight, which, indeed, may derive assistance from the +consciousness of having no bayonets or loaded carabines to contend with; +but anyhow, he's at home--his eye is lit with real glee--he tosses his +hat in the air, in the height of mirth--and leaps, like a mounteback, +two yards from the ground. Then, with what a gracious dexterity he +brandishes his cudgel! what a joyous spirit is heard in his shout at the +face of a friend from another faction! His very 'who!' is contagious, +and would make a man, that had settled on running away, return and join +the sport with an appetite truly Irish. He is, in fact, while under the +influence of this heavenly afflatus, in love with every one, man, woman, +and child. If he meet his sweetheart, he will give her a kiss and a hug, +and that with double kindness, because he is on his way to thrash her +father or brother. It is the acumen of his enjoyment; and woe be to him +who will adventure to go between him and his amusements. To be sure, +skulls and bones are broken, and lives lost; but they are lost in +pleasant fighting--they are the consequences of the sport, the beauty +of which consists in breaking as many heads and necks as you can; and +certainly when a man enters into the spirit of any exercise, there is +nothing like elevating himself to the point of excellence. Then a man +ought never to be disheartened. If you lose this game, or get your +head good-humoredly beaten to pieces, why you may win another, or your +friends may mollify two or three skulls as a set-off to yours; but that +is nothing. + +“When the evening became more advanced, maybe, considering the poor look +up there was for anything like decent sport--maybe, in the early part of +the day, it wasn't the delightful sight to see the boys on each side of +the two great factions beginning to get frolicsome. Maybe the songs and +the shouting, when they began, hadn't melody and music in them, any +how! People may talk about harmony; but what harmony is equal to that in +which five or six hundred men sing and shout, and leap and caper at each +other, as a prelude to neighborly fighting where they beat time upon +the drums of each other's ears and heads with oak drumsticks? That's an +Irishman's music; and hard fortune to the _garran_* that wouldn't have +friendship and kindness in him to join and play a stave along with them! +'Whoo; your sowl! Hurroo! Success to our side! Hi for the O'Callaghans! +Where's the blackguard to--,' I beg pardon, decent reader; I forgot +myself for a moment, or rather I got new life in me, for I am nothing at +all at all for the last five months--a kind of nonentity I may say, ever +since that vagabond Burges occasioned me to pay a visit to my distant +relations, till my friends get that last matter of the collar-bone +settled. + + * Garran--a horse; but it is always used as meaning a bad + one--one without mettle. When figuratively applied to a man, + it means a coward + +“The impulse which faction fighting gives to trade and business in +Ireland is truly surprising; whereas party fighting depreciates both. As +soon as it is perceived that a party fight is to be expected, all buying +and selling are nearly suspended for the day; and those who are not +_up_*, and even many who are, take themselves and their property home as +quickly as may be convenient. But in a faction fight, as soon as there +is any perspective of a row, depend upon it, there is quick work at +all kinds of negotiation; and truly there is nothing like brevity and +decision in buying and selling; for which reason, faction fighting, +at all events, if only for the sake of national prosperity, should be +encouraged and kept up. + + * Initiated into Whiteboyism + +“Towards five o'clock, if a man was placed on an exalted station; so +that he could look at the crowd, and wasn't able to fight, he could have +seen much that a man might envy him for. Here a hat went up, or maybe +a dozen of them; then followed a general huzza. On the other side, two +dozen caubeens sought the sky, like so many scaldy crows attempting +their own element for the first time, only they were not so black. +Then another shout, which was answered by that of their friends on the +opposite side; so that you would hardly know which side huzzaed loudest, +the blending of both was so truly symphonius. Now there was a shout for +the face of an O'Callaghan; this was prosecuted on the very heels +by another for the face of an O'Hallaghan. Immediately a man of the +O'Hallaghan side doffed his tattered frieze, and catching it by the +very extremity of the sleeve, drew it with a tact, known only by an +initiation of half a dozen street days, up the pavement after him. +On the instant, a blade from the O'Callaghan side peeled with equal +alacrity, and stretching his _home-made_ * at full length after him, +proceeded triumphantly up the street, to meet the other. + + * Irish frieze is mostly manufactured at home, which + accounts for the expression here. + +“Thunder-an-ages, what's this for, at all, at all! I wish I hadn't begun +to manuscript an account of it, any how; 'tis like a hungry man dreaming +of a good dinner at a feast, and afterwards awaking and finding his +front ribs and back-bone on the point of union. Reader, is that a +black-thorn you carry--tut, where is my imagination bound for?----to +meet the other, I say. + +“'Where's the rascally O'Callaghan that will place his toe or his +shillely on this frieze?' 'Is there no blackguard O'Hallaghan jist to +look crucked at the coat of an O'Callaghan, or say black's the white of +his eye?' + +“'Troth and there is, Ned, avourneen, that same on the sod here.' + +“'Is that Barney?' + +“'The same, Ned, ma bouchal; and how is your mother's son, Ned?' + +“'In good health at the present time, thank God and you; how is +yourself, Barney?' + +“'Can't complain as time goes; only take this, any how, to mend your +health, ma bouchal.' (Whack.) + +“'Success, Barney, and here's at your sarvice, avick, not making little +of what I got, any way.' (Crack.) + +“About five o'clock on a May evening, in the fair of Knockimdowny, was +the ice thus broken, with all possible civility, by Ned and Barney. The +next moment a general rush took place towards the scene of action, and +ere you could bless yourself, Barney and Ned were both down, weltering +in their own and each other's blood. I scarcely know, indeed, though +with a mighty respectable quota of experimentality myself, how to +describe what followed. For the first twenty minutes the general harmony +of this fine row might be set to music, according to a scale something +like this:--Whick whack--crick crack--whick whack--crick crack--&c, +&c, &o. 'Here yer sowl--(crack)--there yer sowl--(whack). Whoo for +the O'Hallag-hans!'--(crack, crack, crack). 'Hurroo for the +O'Callaghans!--(whack, whack, whack). The O'Callaghans for +ever!'--(whack). 'The O'Hallaghans for ever!'--(crack). 'Mur-ther! +murther!--(crick, crack)--foul! foul!--(whack, whack). Blood and +turf!--(whack, whick)--tunther-an-ouns'--(crack, crick). 'Hurroo! my +darlings! handle your kip-peens--(crack, crack)--the O'Hallaghans are +going!'--(whack, whack). + +“You are to suppose them, here to have been at it for about half an +hour. + +“Whack, crack--'oh--oh--oh! have mercy upon me, boys--(crack--a shriek +of murther! murther--crack, crack, whack)--my life--my life--(crack, +crack--whack, whack)--oh! for the sake of the living Father!--for the +sake of my wife and childher, Ned Hallaghan, spare my life.' + +“'So we will, but take this, any how'--(whack, crack, whack, crack). + +“'Oh! for the love of. God, don't kill--(whack, crack, whack). +Oh!'--(crack, crack, whack--dies). + +“'Huzza! huzza! huzza!' from the O'Hallaghans. 'Bravo, boys! there's one +of them done for: whoo! my darlings! hurroo! the O'Hallaghans for ever!' + +“The scene now changes to the O'Callaghan side. + +“'Jack--oh, Jack, avourneen--hell to their sowls for murdherers--Paddy's +killed--his skull's smashed! Revinge, boys, Paddy O'Callaghan's killed! +On with you, O'Callaghans--on with you--on with you, Paddy O'Callaghan's +murdhered--take to the stones--that's it--keep it up, down with: him! +Success!--he's the bloody villain that: didn't show him marcy--that's +it. Tunder-an-ouns, is it laving him that way you are afther--let me at +him!' + +“'Here's a stone, Tom!' + +“'No, no, this stick has the lead in it. It'll do him, never fear!' + +“'Let him alone, Barney, he's got enough.' + +“'By the powdhers, it's myself that won't: didn't he kill +Paddy?--(crack, crack). Take that, you murdhering thief!'--(whack, +whack). + +“'Oh!--(whack, crack)--my head--I'm killed--I'm'--(crack--kicks the +bucket). + +“'Now, your sowl, that does you, any way--(crack, +whack)--hurro!--huzza!--huzza!--Man for man, boys--an O'Hallaghan's +done for--whoo! for our side--tol-deroll, folderoll, tow, row, +row--huzza!--fol-deroll, fol-deroll, tow, row, row, huzza for the +O'Callaghans!' + +“From this moment the battle became delightful; it was now pelt and welt +on both sides, but many of the kippeens were broken: many of the boys +had their fighting arms disabled by a dislocation, or bit of fracture, +and those weren't equal to more than doing a little upon such as were +down. + +“In the midst of the din, such a dialogue as this might be heard: + +“'Larry, you're after being done for, for this day.' (Whack, crack.) + +“'Only an eye gone--is that Mickey?' (whick, whack, crick, crack.) + +“'That's it, my darlings!--you may say that, Larry--'tis my mother's +son that's in it--(crack, crack,--a general huzza.): (Mickey and +Larry) huzza! huzza! huzza for the O'Hallaghans! What have you got, +Larry?--(crack, crack). + +“'Only the bone of my arm, God be praised for it, very purtily snapt +across!' (whack, whack). + +“'Is that all? Well, some people have luck!'--(crack, crack, crack). + +“'Why I've no reason to complain, thank God--(whack, crack!)--purty play +that, any way--Paddy O'Callaghan's settled--did you hear it?--(whack, +whack, another shout)--That's it boys--handle the shilleleys!--Success +O'Hallaghans--down with the bloody O'Callaghans!' + +“'I did hear it: so is Jem O'Hallaghan--(crack, whack, whack, +crack)--you're not able to get up, I see--tare-an-ounty, isn't it a +pleasure to hear that play?--What ails you?' + +“'Oh, Larry, I'm in great pain, and getting very weak, +entirely'--(faints). + +“'Faix, and he's settled too, I'm thinking.' + +“'Oh, murdher, my arm!' (One of the O'Callaghans attacks him--crack, +crack)-- + +“'Take that, you vagabone!'--(whack, whack). + +“' Murdher, murdher, is it strikin' a down man you're after?--foul, +foul, and my arm broke!'--(crack, crack). + +“'Take that, with what you got before, and it'll ase you, maybe.' + +“(A party of the O'Hallaghans attack the man who is beating him). + +“'Murdher, murdher!'--(crack, whack, whack, crack, crack, whack). + +“'Lay on him, your sowls to pirdition--lay on him, hot and heavy--give +it to him! He sthruck me and me down wid my broken arm!' + +“'Foul, ye thieves of the world!--(from the O'Callaghan)--foul! five +against one--give me fair play!--(crack, crack, crack)--Oh!--(whack) +Oh, oh, oh!'--(falls senseless, covered with blood). + +“'Ha, hell's cure to you, you bloody thief; you didn't spare me with +my arm broke'--(Another general shout.) 'Bad end to it, isn't it a poor +case entirely, that I can't even throw up my caubeen, let alone join in +the diversion.' + +“Both parties now rallied, and ranged themselves along the street, +exhibiting a firm phalanx, wedged close against each other, almost foot +to foot. The mass was thick and dense, and the tug of conflict stiff, +wild and savage. Much natural skill and dexterity were displayed in +their mutual efforts to preserve their respective ranks unbroken, and as +the sallies and charges were made on both sides, the temporary rash, the +indentation of the multitudinous body, and the rebound into its original +position, gave an undulating appearance to the compact mass--reeking, +dragging, groaning, and buzzing as it was, that resembled the serpentine +motion of a rushing water-spout in the clouds. + +“The women now began to take part with their brothers and sweethearts. +Those who had no bachelors among the opposite factions, fought along +with their brothers; others did not scruple even to assist in giving +their enamored swains the father of a good beating. Many, however, were +more faithful to love than to natural affection, and these sallied out, +like heroines, under the banners of their sweethearts, fighting with +amazing prowess against their friends and relations; nor was it at all +extraordinary to see two sisters engaged on opposite sides--perhaps +tearing each other as, with dishevelled hair, they screamed with a fury +that was truly exemplary. Indeed it is no untruth to assert that the +women do much valuable execution. Their manner of fighting is this--as +soon as the fair one decides upon taking a part in the row, she +instantly takes off her apron or her stocking, stoops down, and lifting +the first four pounder she can get, puts it in the corner of her apron, +or the foot of her stocking, if it has a foot, and marching into the +scene of action, lays about her right and left. Upon my credibility, +they are extremely useful and handy, and can give mighty nate +knockdowns--inasmuch as no guard that a man is acquainted with can ward +off their blows. Nay, what is more, it often happens, when a son-in-law +is in a faction against his father-in-law and his wife's people +generally, that if he and his wife's brother meet, the wife will clink +him with the _pet_ in her apron, downing her own husband with great +skill, for it is not always that marriage extinguishes the hatred of +factions; and very often 'tis the brother that is humiliated. + +“Up to the death of these two men, John O'Callaghan and Rose's father, +together with a large party of their friends on both sides, were +drinking in a public-house, determined to take no portion in the fight, +at all at all. Poor Rose, when she heard the shouting and terrible +strokes, got as pale as death, and sat close to John, whose hand she +captured hers, beseeching him, and looking up in his face with the most +imploring sincerity as she spoke, not to go out among them; the tears +falling all the time from her fine eyes, the mellow flashes of which, +when John's pleasantry in soothing her would seduce a smile, went into +his very heart. But when, on looking out of the window where they sat, +two of the opposing factions heard that a man on each side was killed; +and when on ascertaining the names of the individuals, and of those who +murdered them, it turned out that one of the murdered men was brother +to a person in the room, and his murderer uncle to one of those in the +window, it was not in the power of man or woman to keep them asunder, +particularly as they were all rather advanced in liquor. In an instant +the friends of the murdered man made a rush at the window, before any +pacifiers had time to get between them, and catching the nephew of him +who had committed the murder, hurled him head-foremost upon the stone +pavement, where his skull was dashed to pieces, and his brains scattered +about the flags! + +“A general attack instantly took place in the room, between the two +factions; but the apartment was too low and crowded to permit of proper +fighting, so they rushed out to the street, shouting and. yelling, as +they do when the battle comes to the real point of doing business. As +soon as it was seen that the heads of the O'Callaghan's and O'Hallaghans +were at work as well as the rest, the fight was recommenced with +retrebled spirit; but when the mutilated body of the man who had been +flung from the window, was observed lying in the pool of his own proper +brains and blood, such a cry arose among his friends, as would cake +(* harden) the vital fluid in the veins of any one not a party in +the quarrel. Now was the work--the moment of interest--men and women +groaning, staggering, and lying insensible; others shouting, leaping, +and huzzaing; some singing, and not a few able-bodied spalpeens +blurting, like over-grown children, on seeing their own blood; many +raging and roaring about like bulls;--all this formed such a group as a +faction fight, and nothing else, could represent. + +“The battle now blazed out afresh; and all kinds of instruments were +pressed into I the service. Some got flails, some spades, some shovels, +and one man got his hands upon a scythe, with which, unquestionably, +he would have taken more lives than one; but, very fortunately, as he +sallied out to join the crowd, he was politely visited in the back of +the head by a brick-bat, which had a mighty convincing way with it of +giving him a peaceable disposition, for he instantly lay down, and did +not seem at all anxious as to the result of the battle. The O'Hallaghans +were now compelled to give way, owing principally to the introvention of +John O'Ohallaghan, who, although he was as good as sworn to take no part +in the contest, was compelled to fight merely to protect himself. But, +blood-and-turf! when he did begin, he was dreadful. As soon as his party +saw him engaged, they took fresh courage, and in a short time made the +O'Hallaghan's retreat up the church-yard. I never saw anything equal to +John; he absolutely sent them down in dozens; and when a man would give +him any inconvenience with the stick, he would down him with the fist, +for right and left were all alike to him. Poor Rose's brother and he +met, both roused like two lions; but when John saw who it was, he held +back his hand:-- + +“'No, Tom,' says he, 'I'll not strike you, for Rose's sake. I'm not +fighting through ill will to you or your family; so take another +direction, for I can't strike you.' + +“The blood, however, was unfortunately up in Tom. + +“'We'll decide it now,' said he, 'I'm as good a man as you, O'Callaghan: +and let me whisper this in your ears--you'll never warm the one bed +with Rose, while's God's in heaven--it's past that now--there can be I +nothing but blood between us!' + +“At this juncture two of the O'Callaghans ran with their shillelaghs up, +to beat down Tom on the spot. + +“'Stop, boys!' said John, 'you mustn't touch him; he had no hand in the +quarrel. Go, boys, if you respect me; lave him to myself.' + +“The boys withdrew to another part of the fight; and the next instant +Tom struck the very man that interfered to save him, across the temple, +and cut him severely. John put his hand up and staggered. + +“'I'm sorry for this,' he observed; 'but it's now self-defence with me;' +and at the same moment, with one blow, he left Tom O'Hallaghan stretched +insensible on the street. + +“On the O'Hallaghans being driven to the church-yard, they were at a +mighty great inconvenience for weapons. Most of them had lost their +sticks, it being a usage in fights of this kind to twist the cudgels +from the grasp of the beaten men, to prevent them from rallying. They +soon, however, furnished themselves with the best they could find, +videlicet, the skull, leg, thigh, and arm bones, which they found lying +about the grave-yard. This was a new species of weapon, for which the +majority of the O'Callaghans were scarcely prepared. Out they sallied in +a body--some with these, others with stones, and making fierce assault +upon their enemies, absolutely druv then--not so much by the damage they +we're doing, as by the alarm and terror which these unexpected species +of missiles excited. At this moment, notwithstanding the fatality that +had taken place, nothing could be more truly comical and facetious +than the appearance of the field of battle. Skulls were flying in every +direction--so thick, indeed, that it might with truth be assevervated, +that many who were petrified in the dust, had their skulls broken in +this great battle between the factions.--God help poor Ireland! when +its inhabitants are so pugnacious, that even the grave is no security +against getting their crowns cracked, and their bones fractured! Well, +any how, skulls and bones flew in every direction--stones and brick-bats +were also put in motion; spades, shovels, loaded whips, pot-sticks, +churn-staffs, flails, and all kinds of available weapons were in hot +employment. + +“But, perhaps, there was nothing more-truly felicitous or original in +its way than the mode of warfare adopted by little Neal Malone, who was +tailor for the O'Callaghan side: for every tradesman is obliged to fight +on behalf of his own faction. Big Frank Farrell, the miller, being +on the O'Hallaghan side, had been sent for, and came up from his mill +behind the town, quite fresh. He was never what could be called a good +man,* though it was said that he could lift ten hundred weight. He +puffed forward with a great cudgel, determined to commit slaughter +out of the face, and the first man he met was the weeshy fraction of +a tailor, as nimble as a hare. He immediately attacked him, and would +probably have taken his measure for life had not the tailor's activity +protected him. Farrell was in a rage, and Neal, taking advantage of his +blind fury, slipped round him, and, with a short run, sprung upon the +miller's back, and planted, a foot upon the threshold of each coat +pocket, holding by the mealy collar of his waistcoat. In this position +he belabored the miller's face and eyes with his little hard fist to +such purpose, that he had him in the course of a few minutes nearly +as blind as a mill-horse. The' miller roared for assistance, but the +pell-mell was going on too warmly for his cries to be available. In +fact, he resembled an elephant with a monkey on his back. + + * A brave man. He was a man of huge size and prodigious + strength, and died in consequence of an injury he received + in lifting one of the cathedral bells at Clogher, which is + said to be ten hundredweight. + +“'How do you like that, Farrell?' Neal would say, giving him a +cuff--'and that, and that; but that is best of all. Take it again, +gudgeon (two cuffs more)--here's grist for you (half a dozen +additional)--hard fortune to you! (crack, crack.) What! going to lie +down!--by all that's terrible, if you do, I'll annigulate* you! Here's a +dhuragh,** (another half dozen)--long measure, you savage!--the baker's +dozen, you baste!--there's five-an'-twenty to the score, Sampson! and +one or two in' (crack, whack). + + * Annihilate--Many of the jawbreakers--and this was one in a + double sense--used by the hedge-schoolmasters, are scattered + among the people, by whom they were so twisted that it would + be extremely difficult to recognize them. + + ** Dhuragh--An additional portion of anything thrown in from + a spirit of generosity, after the Measure agreed on is + given. When the miller, for instance, receives his toll, the + country-people usually throw in several handfuls of meal as + a Dhuragh. + +“'Oh! murther sheery!' shouted the miller. 'Murther-an-age, I'm kilt! +Foul play!--foul play!' + +“'You lie, big Nebuchodonosor! it's not--this is all fair play, you +big baste! Fair play, Sampson!--by the same a-token, here's to jog your +memory that it's the Fair day of Knockimdowny! Irish Fair play, you +whale! But I'll whale you' (crack, crack, whack). + +“'Oh! oh!' shouted the miller. + +“'Oh! oh! is it? Oh, if I had my scissors here till I'd clip your ears +off--wouldn't I be the happy man, any how, you swab, you?' (whack, +whack, crack). + +“'Murther! murther! murther!' shouted the miller. 'Is there no help?' + +“'Help, is it?--you may say that (crack crack): there's a trifle--a +small taste in the milling style, you know; and here goes to dislodge +a grinder. Did ye ever hear of the tailor on horseback, Sampson? eh? +(whack, whack). Did you ever expect to see a tailor on horseback of +yourself, you baste? (crack). I tell you, if you offer to lie down, I'll +annigulate you out o' the face.' + +“Never, indeed, was a miller before or since so well dusted; and, I dare +say, Neal would have rode him long enough, but for an O'Hallaghan, who +had gone into one of the houses to procure a weapon. This man was nearly +as original in his choice of one as the tailor in the position which he +selected for beating the miller. On entering the kitchen, he found +that he had been anticipated: there was neither tongs, poker, nor +churn-staff, nor, in fact, anything wherewith he could assault his +enemies; all had been carried off by others. There was, however, a +goose, in the action of being roasted on a spit at the fire: this +was enough; Honest O'Hallaghan saw nothing but the spit, which he +accordingly seized, goose and all, making the best of his way, so armed, +to the scene of battle. He just came out of an entry as the miller was +once more roaring for assistance, and, to a dead certainty, would have +spitted the tailor like a cook-sparrow against the miller's carcase, had +not his activity once more saved him. Unluckily, the unfortunate miller +got the thrust behind which was intended for Neal, and roared like a +bull. He was beginning to shout 'Foul play!' again, when, on turning +round, he perceived that the thrust had not been intended for him, but +for the tailor. + +“'Give me that spit,' said he; 'by all the mills that ever were turned, +I'll spit the tailor this blessed minute beside the goose, and we'll +roast them both together.' + +“The other refused to part with the spit, but the miller seizing the +goose, flung it with all his force after the tailor, who stooped, +however, and avoided the blow. + +“'No man has a better right to the goose than the tailor,' said Neal, as +he took it up, and, disappearing, neither he nor the goose could be seen +for the remainder of the day. + +“The battle was now somewhat abated. Skulls, and bones, and bricks, and +stones, were, however, still flying; so that it might be truly said, +the bones of contention were numerous. The streets presented a woeful +spectacle: men were lying with their bones broken--others, though not so +seriously injured, lappered in their blood--some were crawling up, but +were instantly knocked down by their enemies--some were leaning against +the walls, or groping their way silently along them, endeavoring to +escape observation, lest they might be smashed down and altogether +murdered. Wives were sitting with the bloody heads of their husbands in +their laps, tearing their hair, weeping and cursing, in all the gall of +wrath, those who left them in such a state. Daughters performed the +said offices to their fathers, and sisters to their brothers; not +pretermitting those who did not neglect their broken-pated bachelors to +whom they paid equal attention. Yet was the scene not without abundance +of mirth. Many a hat was thrown up by the O'Callaghan side, who +certainly gained the day. Many a song was raised by those who tottered +about with trickling sconces, half drunk with whiskey, and half stupid +with beating. Many a 'whoo,' and 'hurroo,' and 'huzza,' was sent forth +by the triumphanters; but truth to tell, they were miserably feeble and +faint, compared to what they had been in the beginning of the amusement; +sufficiently evincing that, although they might boast of the name +of victory, they had got a bellyful of beating; still there was hard +fighting. + +“I mentioned, some time ago, that a man had adopted a scythe. I wish +from my heart there had been no such bloody instrument there that day; +but truth must be told. John O'Callaghan was now engaged against a set +of the other O's, who had rallied for the third time, and attacked him +and his party. Another brother of Rose Galh's was in this engagement, +and him did John O'Callaghan not only knock down, but cut desperately +across the temple. A man, stripped, and covered with blood and dust, +at that moment made his appearance, his hand bearing the blade of the +aforesaid scythe. His approach was at once furious and rapid, and I +may as well add, fatal; for before John O'Callaghan had time to be +forewarned of his danger, he was cut down, the artery of his neck laid +open, and he died without a groan. It was truly dreadful, even to +the oldest fighter present, to see the strong rush of red blood that +curvated about his neck, until it gurgled, gurgled, gurgled, and +lappered, and bubbled out, ending in small red spouts, blackening and +blackening, as they became fainter and more faint. At this criticality, +every eye was turned from the corpse to the murderer; but he had been +instantly struck down, and a female, with a large stone in her apron, +stood over him, her arms stretched out, her face horribly distorted with +agony, and her eyes turned backwards, as it were, into her head. In a +few seconds she fell into strong convulsions, and was immediately taken +away. Alas! alas! it was Rose Galh; and when we looked at the man she +had struck down, he was found to be her brother! flesh of her flesh, and +blood of her blood! On examining him more closely, we discovered that +his under-jaw hung loose, that his limbs were supple; we tried to make +him speak, but in vain--he too was a corpse. + +“The fact was, that in consequence of his being stripped, and covered by +so much blood and dust, she know him not; and, impelled by her feelings +to avenge herself on the murderer of her lover, to whom she doubly owed +her life, she struck him a deadly blow, without knowing him to be her +brother. The shock produced by seeing her lover murdered, and the horror +of finding that she herself, in avenging him, had taken her brother's +life, was too much for a heart so tender as hers. On recovering from her +convulsions, her senses were found to be gone for ever! Poor girl! she +is still living; but from that moment to this, she has never opened her +lips to mortal. She is, indeed, a fair ruin, but silent, melancholy, and +beautiful as the moon in the summer heaven. Poor Rose Galh! you and many +a mother, and father, and wife, and orphan, have had reason to maledict +the _bloody Battles of the Factions_. + +“With regard to my grandfather, he says that he didn't see purtier +fighting within his own memory; not since the fight between himself and +Big Mucklemurray took place in the same town. But, to do him justice, he +condemns the scythe and every other weapon except the cudgels; because, +he says, that if they continue to be resorted to, nate fighting will be +altogether forgotten in the country.” + +[It was the original intention of the author to have made every man in +the humble group about Ned M'Keown's hearth narrate a story illustrating +Irish life, feeling, and manners; but on looking into the matter more +closely, he had reason to think that such a plan, however agreeable +for a time, would ultimately narrow the sphere of his work, and +perhaps fatigue the reader by a superfluity of Irish dialogue and its +peculiarities of phraseology. He resolved therefore, at the close of +the _Battle of the Factions_, to abandon his original design, and leave +himself more room for description and observation. ] + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Ned M'Keown Stories, by William Carleton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NED M'KEOWN STORIES *** + +***** This file should be named 16012-0.txt or 16012-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/0/1/16012/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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