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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Phelim O'toole's Courtship and Other 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: Phelim O'toole's Courtship and Other 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 #16019]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHELIM O'TOOLE'S COURTSHIP ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+TRAITS AND STORIES OF THE IRISH PEASANTRY
+
+BY WILLIAM CARLETON
+
+
+
+Contents:
+
+     Phelim O'toole's Courtship
+     Wildgoose Lodge
+     Tubber Derg; Or, The Red Well.
+     Neal Malone
+     Art Maguire; Or, The Broken Pledge.
+
+
+
+
+PHELIM O'TOOLE'S COURTSHIP.
+
+
+Phelim O'Toole, who had the honor of being that interesting personage,
+an only son, was heir to a snug estate of half an acre, which had been
+the family patrimony since the time of his grandfather, Tyrrell O'Toole,
+who won it from the Sassenah at the point of his reaping-hook, during a
+descent once made upon England by a body of "spalpeens," in the month
+of August. This resolute little band was led on by Tyrrell, who, having
+secured about eight guineas by the excursion, returned to his own
+country, with a coarse linen travelling-bag slung across his shoulder, a
+new hat in one hand, and a staff in the other. On reaching once more his
+native village of Teernarogarah, he immediately took half an acre, for
+which he paid a moderate rent in the shape of daily labor as a cotter.
+On this he resided until death, after which event he was succeeded by
+his son, Larry O'Toole, the father of the "purty boy" who is about to
+shine in the following pages.
+
+Phelim's father and mother had been married near seven years without
+the happiness of a family. This to both was a great affliction. Sheelah
+O'Toole was melancholy from night to morning, and Larry was melancholy
+from morning to night. Their cottage was silent and solitary; the floor
+and furniture had not the appearance of any cottage in which Irish
+children are wont to amuse themselves. When they rose in the morning,
+a miserable stillness prevailed around them; young voices were not
+heard--laughing eyes turned not on their parents--the melody of angry
+squabbles, as the urchins, in their parents' fancy, cuffed and scratched
+each other--half, or wholly naked among the ashes in the morning,
+soothed not the yearning hearts of Larry and his wife. No, no; there was
+none of this.
+
+Morning passed in a quietness hard to be borne: noon arrived, but the
+dismal dreary sense of childlessness hung upon the house and their
+hearts; night again returned, only to add its darkness to that which
+overshadowed the sorrowful spirits of this disconsolate couple.
+
+For the first two or three years, they bore this privation with a strong
+confidence that it would not last. The heart, however, sometimes becomes
+tired of hoping, or unable to bear the burthen of expectation, which
+time only renders heavier. They first began to fret and pine, then to
+murmur, and finally to recriminate.
+
+Sheelah wished for children, "to have the crathurs to spake to," she
+said, "and comfort us when we'd get ould an' helpless."
+
+Larry cared not, provided they had a son to inherit the "half acre."
+This was the burthen of his wishes, for in all their altercations, his
+closing observation usually was--"well, but what's to become of the half
+acre?"
+
+"What's to become of the half acre? Arrah what do I care for the half
+acre? It's not that you ought to be thinkin' of, but the dismal poor
+house we have, wid not the laugh or schreech of a _single pastiah_ (*
+child) in it from year's end to year's end."
+
+"Well, Sheelah?--"
+
+"Well, yourself, Larry? To the diouol I pitch your half acre, man."
+
+"To the diouol you--pitch--What do you fly at me for?"
+
+"Who's flyin' at you? They'd have little tow on their rock that 'ud fly
+at you."
+
+"You are flyin' at me; an' only you have a hard face, you wouldn't do
+it."
+
+"A hard face! Indeed it's well come over wid us, to be tould that by the
+likes o' you! ha!"
+
+"No matther for that! You had betther keep a soft tongue in your head,
+an' a civil one, in the mane time. Why did the divil timpt you to take a
+fancy to me at all?"
+
+"That's it. Throw the _grah_ an' love I _once_ had for you in my teeth,
+now. It's a manly thing for you to do, an' you may be proud, of it. Dear
+knows, it would be betther for me I had fell in consate wid any face
+but yours."
+
+"I wish to goodness you had! I wouldn't be as I am to-day. There's that
+half acre--"
+
+"To the diouol, I say, I pitch yourself an' your half acre! Why do you
+be comin' acrass me wid your half acre? Eh?--why do you?"
+
+"Come now; don't be puttin' your hands agin your sides, an waggin' your
+impty head at me, like a rockin' stone."
+
+"An' why do you be aggravatin' at me wid your half acre?"
+
+"Bekase I have a good right to do it. What'll become of it when I d--"
+
+"----That for you an' it, you poor excuse!"
+
+"When I di--"
+
+"----That for you an' it, I say! That for you an' it, you atomy!"
+
+"What'll become of my half acre when I die? Did you hear that?"
+
+"You ought to think of what'll become of yourself, when you die; that's
+what you ought to think of; but little it throubles you, you sinful
+reprobate! Sure the neighbors despises you."
+
+"That's falsity; but they know the life I lade wid you. The edge of your
+tongue's well known. They pity me, for bein' joined to the likes of you.
+Your bad tongue's all you're good for."
+
+"Aren't you afeard to be flyin' in the face o' Providence the way you
+are? An' to be ladin' me sich a heart-scalded life for no rason?"
+
+"It's your own story you're tellin'. Sure I haven't a day's pace wid
+you, or ever had these three years. But wait till next harvest, an' if
+I'm spared, I'll go to England. Whin I do, I've a consate in my head,
+that you'll never see my face agin."
+
+"Oh, you know that's an' ould story wid you. Many a time you threatened
+us wid that afore. Who knows but you'd be dhrowned on your way, an' thin
+we'd get another husband."
+
+"An' be these blessed tongs, I'll do it afore I'm much oulder!"
+
+"An' lave me here to starve an' sthruggle by myself! Desart me like a
+villain, to poverty an' hardship! Marciful Mother of Heaven, look down
+upon me this day! but I'm the ill-thrated, an' ill-used poor crathur,
+by a man that I don't, an' never did, desarve it from! An' all in regard
+that that 'half acre' must go to strangers! Och! oh!"
+
+"Ay! now take to the cryin', do; rock yourself over the ashes, an' wipe
+your eyes wid the corner of your apron; but, I say agin, _what's to
+become of the half acre?_"
+
+"Oh, God forgive you, Larry! That's the worst I say to you, you poor
+half-dead blaguard!"
+
+"Why do you massacray me wid your tongue as you do?"
+
+"Go. an--go an. I won't make you an answer, you atomy! That's what I'll
+do. The heavens above turn your heart this day, and give me strinth to
+bear my throubles an' heart burnin', sweet Queen o' Consolation! Or take
+me into the arms of Parodies, sooner nor be as I am, wid a poor baste of
+a villain, that I never turn my tongue on, barrin' to tell him the kind
+of a man he is, the blaguard!"
+
+"You're betther than you desarve to be!"
+
+To this, Sheelah made no further reply; on the contrary, she sat
+smoking her pipe with a significant silence, that was only broken by an
+occasional groan, an ejaculation, or a singularly devout upturning
+of the eyes to heaven, accompanied by a shake of the head, at once
+condemnatory and philosophical; indicative of her dissent from what he
+said, as well as of her patience in bearing it.
+
+Larry, however, usually proceeded to combat all her gestures by viva
+voce argument; for every shake of her head he had an appropriate answer:
+but without being able to move her from the obstinate silence she
+maintained. Having thus the field to himself, and feeling rather annoyed
+by the want of an antagonist, he argued on in the same form of dispute,
+whilst she, after first calming her own spirit by the composing effects
+of the pipe, usually cut him short with--
+
+"Here, take a blast o' this, maybe it'll settle you."
+
+This was received in silence. The good man smoked on, and every puff
+appeared, as an evaporation of his anger. In due time he was as placid
+as herself, drew his breath in a grave composed manner, laid his pipe
+quietly on the hob, and went about his business as if nothing had
+occurred between them.
+
+These bickerings were strictly private, with the exception of some
+disclosures made to Sheelah's mother and sisters. Even these were
+thrown out rather as insinuations that all was not right, than as direct
+assertions that they lived unhappily. Before strangers they were perfect
+turtles.
+
+Larry, according to the notices of his life furnished by Sheelah, was
+"as good a husband as ever broke the world's bread;" and Sheelah "was
+as good a poor man's wife as ever threw a gown over her shoulders."
+Notwithstanding all this caution, their little quarrels took wind; their
+unhappiness became known. Larry, in consequence of a failing he had, was
+the cause of this. He happened to be one of those men who can conceal
+nothing when in a state of intoxication. Whenever he indulged in
+liquor too freely, the veil which discretion had drawn over their
+recriminations was put aside, and a dolorous history of their
+weaknesses, doubts, hopes, and wishes, most unscrupulously given to
+every person on whom the complainant could fasten. When sober, he had no
+recollection of this, so that many a conversation of cross-purposes took
+place between him and his neighbors, with reference to the state of his
+own domestic inquietude, and their want of children.
+
+One day a poor mendicant came in at dinner hour, and stood as if to
+solicit alms. It is customary in Ireland, when any person of that
+description appears during meal times, to make him wait until the meal
+is over, after which he is supplied with the fragments. No sooner had
+the boccagh--as a certain class of beggars is termed--advanced past the
+jamb, than he was desired to sit until the dinner should be concluded.
+In the mean time, with the tact of an adept in his calling, he began
+to ingratiate himself with Larry and his wife; and after sounding the
+simple couple upon their private history, he discovered that want of
+children was the occasion of their unhappiness.
+
+"Well good people," said the pilgrim, after listening to a dismal story
+on the subject, "don't be cast down, sure, whether or not. There's a
+Holy Well that I can direct yez to in the county--. Any one, wid trust
+in the Saint that's over it, who'll make a pilgrimage to it on the
+Patthern day, won't be the worse for it. When you go there," he added,
+"jist turn to a Lucky Stone that's at the side of the well, say a Rosary
+before it, and at the end of every dicken (decade) kiss it once, ache of
+you. Then you're to go round the well nine times, upon your bare knees,
+sayin' your Pathers and Avers all the time. When that's over, lave a
+ribbon or a bit of your dress behind you, or somethin' by way of an
+offerin', thin go into a tent an' refresh yourselves, an' for that
+matther, take a dance or two; come home, live happily, an' trust to the
+holy saint for the rest."
+
+A gleam of newly awakened hope might be discovered lurking in the
+eyes of this simple pair, who felt that natural yearning of the, heart
+incident to such as are without offspring.
+
+They looked forward with deep anxiety to the anniversary of the Patron
+Saint; and when it arrived, none certainly who attended it, felt a more
+absorbing interest in the success of the pilgrimage than they did.
+
+The days on which these pilgrimages are performed at such places are
+called Pattern or Patron days. The journey to holy wells or holy lakes
+is termed a Pilgrimage, or more commonly a Station. It is sometimes
+enjoined by the priest, as an act of penance; and sometimes undertaken
+voluntarily, as a devotional, work of great merit in the sight of God.
+The crowds in many places amount to from five hundred to a thousand, and
+often to two, three, four, or five thousand people.
+
+These Stations have, for the most part, been placed in situations
+remarkable for wild and savage grandeur, or for soft, exquisite, and
+generally solitary beauty. They may be found on the high and rugged
+mountain top; or sunk in the bottom of some still and lonely glen, far
+removed from the ceaseless din of the world. Immediately beside them, or
+close in their vicinity, stand the ruins of probably a picturesque
+old abbey, or perhaps a modern chapel. The appearance of these gray,
+ivy-covered walls is strongly calculated to stir up in the minds of
+the people the memory of bygone times, when their religion, with its
+imposing solemnities, was the religion of the land. It is for this
+reason, probably, that patrons are countenanced; for if there be not
+a political object in keeping them up, it is beyond human ingenuity to
+conceive how either religion or morals can be improved by debauchery,
+drunkenness, and bloodshed.
+
+Let the reader, in order to understand the situation of the place we are
+describing, imagine to himself a stupendous cliff overhanging a green
+glen, into which tumbles a silver stream down a height of two or three
+hundred feet. At the bottom of this rock, a few yards from the basin
+formed by the cascade, in a sunless nook, was a well of cool, delicious
+water. This was the "Holy Well," out of which issued a slender stream,
+that joined the rivulet formed by the cascade. On the shrubs which
+grew out of the crag-cliffs around it, might be seen innumerable rags
+bleached by the weather out of their original color, small wooden
+crosses, locks of human hair, buttons, and other substitutes for
+property; poverty allowing the people to offer it only by fictitious
+emblems. Lower down in the glen, on the river's bank, was a smooth
+green, admirably adapted for the dance, which, notwithstanding the
+religious rites, is the heart and soul of a Patron.
+
+On that morning a vast influx of persons, male and female, old and
+young, married and single, crowded eagerly towards the well. Among them
+might be noticed the blind, the lame, the paralytic, and such as were
+afflicted with various other diseases; nor were those good men and their
+wives who had no offspring to be omitted. The mendicant, the pilgrim,
+the boccagh, together with every other description of impostors,
+remarkable for attending such places, were the first on the ground, all
+busy in their respective vocations. The highways, the fields, and the
+boreens, or bridle-roads, were filled with living streams of people
+pressing forward to this great scene of fun and religion. The devotees
+could in general be distinguished from the country folks by their
+Pharisaical and penitential visages, as well as by their not wearing
+shoes; for the Stations to such places were formerly made with bare
+feet: most persons now, however, content themselves with stripping off
+their shoes and stockings on coming within the precincts of the holy
+ground. Human beings are not the only description of animals that
+perform pilgrimages to holy wells and blessed lakes. Cows, horses, and
+sheep are made to go through their duties, either by way of prevention,
+or cure, of the diseases incident to them. This is not to be wondered
+at, when it is known that in their religion every domestic animal has
+its patron saint, to whom its owner may at any time pray on its behalf.
+When the crowd was collected, nothing in the shape of an assembly
+could surpass it in the originality of its appearance. In the glen were
+constructed a number of tents, where whiskey and refreshments might be
+had in abundance. Every tent had a fiddler or a piper; many two of them.
+From the top of the pole that ran up from the roof of each tent, was
+suspended the symbol by which the owner of it was known by his friends
+and acquaintances. Here swung a salt herring or a turf; there a
+shillelah; in a third place a shoe, in a fourth place a whisp of hay, in
+a fifth an old hat, and so on with the rest.
+
+The tents stood at a short distance from the scene of devotion at the
+well, but not so far as to prevent the spectator from both seeing and
+hearing what went on in each. Around the well, on bare knees, moved a
+body of people thickly wedged together, some praying, some screaming,
+some excoriating their neighbors' shins, and others dragging them out of
+their way by the hair of the head. Exclamations of pain from the sick
+or lame, thumping oaths in Irish, recriminations in broken English, and
+prayers in bog Latin, all rose at once to the ears of the patron
+saint, who, we are inclined to think--could he have heard or seen his
+worshippers--would have disclaimed them altogether.
+
+"For the sake of the Holy Virgin, keep your sharp elbows out o' my
+ribs."
+
+"My blessin' an you, young man, an' don't be lanin' an me, i' you
+plase!"
+
+"_Damnho sherry orth a rogarah ruah!_* what do you mane? Is it my back
+you're brakin'?"
+
+     * Eternal perdition on you, you red rogue.
+
+"Hell pershue you, you ould sinner, can't you keep the spike of your
+crutch out o' my stomach! If you love me tell me so; but, by the livin'
+farmer, I'll take no such hints as that!"
+
+"I'm a pilgrim, an' don't brake my leg upon the rock, an' my blessin' an
+you!"
+
+"Oh, murdher sheery! my poor child'll be smothered!"
+
+"My heart's curse an you! is it the ould cripple you're trampin' over?"
+
+"Here, Barny, blood alive, give this purty young girl a lift, your sowl,
+or she'll soon be undhermost!"
+
+     "'Och, 'twas on a Christmas mornin'
+     That Jeroosillim was born in
+     The Holy Land'----'
+
+"Oh, my neck's broke!--the curse----Oh! I'm kilt fairly, so I am! The
+curse o' Cromwell an you, an' hould away--
+
+     'The Holy Land adornin'
+     All by the Baltic Say.
+     The angels on a Station,
+     Wor takin' raycrayation,
+     All in deep meditation,
+     All by the'----
+
+contints o' the book if you don't hould away, I say agin, an' let me go
+on wid my _rann_ it'll be worse force for you!--
+
+     'Wor takin' raycraytion,
+     All by the Baltic Say!"
+
+"Help the ould woman there."
+
+"Queen o' Patriots pray for us!--St. Abraham----go to the divil, you
+bosthoon; is it crushin' my sore leg you are?--St. Abraham pray for us!
+St. Isinglass, pray for us! St. Jonathan,----musha, I wisht you wor
+in America, honest man, instid o' twistin' my arm like a gad f-- St.
+Jonathan, pray for us; Holy Nineveh, look down upon us wid compression
+an' resolution this day. Blessed Jerooslim, throw down compuncture an'
+meditation upon us Chrystyeens assembled here afore you to offer up our
+sins! Oh, grant us, blessed Catasthrophy, the holy virtues of Timptation
+an' Solitude, through the improvement an' accommodation of St.
+Kolumbdyl! To him I offer up this button, a bit o' the waistband o' my
+own breeches, an' a taste of my wife's petticoat, in remimbrance of us
+having made this holy Station; an' may they rise up in glory to prove it
+for us at the last day! Amin!"
+
+Such was the character of the prayers and ejaculations which issued from
+the lips of the motley group that scrambled, and crushed, and screamed,
+on their knees around the well. In the midst of this ignorance and
+absurdity, there were visible, however, many instances of piety,
+goodness of heart, and simplicity of character. From such you could hear
+neither oath nor exclamation. They complied with the usages of the place
+modestly and attentively: though not insensible, at the same time, to
+the strong disgust which the general conduct of those who were both
+superstitious and wicked was calculated to excite. A little from the
+well, just where its waters mingled with those of the cascade, men and
+women might be seen washing the blood off their knees, and dipping such
+parts of their body as Were afflicted with local complaints into the
+stream. This part' of the ceremony was anything but agreeable to the
+eye. Most of those who went round the well drank its waters; and several
+of them filled flasks and bottles with it, which they brought home for
+the benefit of such members of the family as could not attend in person.
+
+Whilst all this went forward at the well, scenes of a different kind
+were enacted lower down among the tents. No sooner had the penitents
+got the difficult rites of the Station over, than they were off to the
+whiskey; and decidedly, after the grinding of their bare knees upon
+the hard rock--after the pushing, crushing, and exhaustion of bodily
+strength which they had been forced to undergo--we say, that the
+comforts and refreshments to be had in the tents were very seasonable.
+Here the dancing, shouting, singing, courting, drinking, and fighting,
+formed one wild uproar of noise, that was perfectly astounding. The
+leading boys and the prettiest girls of the parish were all present,
+partaking in the rustic revelry. Tipsy men were staggering in every
+direction; fiddles were playing, pipes were squeaking, men were rushing
+in detached bodies to some fight, women were doctoring the heads of such
+as had been beaten, and factions were collecting their friends for a
+fresh battle. Here you might see a grove of shillelahs up, and hear
+the crash of the onset; and in another place, the heads of the dancing
+parties bobbing up and down in brisk motion among the crowd that
+surrounded them.
+
+The pilgrim, having now gone through his Station, stood hemmed in by a
+circle of those who wanted to purchase his beads or his scapulars. The
+ballad-singer had his own mob, from among whom his voice might be heard
+rising in its purest tones to the praise of--
+
+     "Brave O'Connell, the Liberathur,
+     An' great Salvathur of Ireland's Isle!"
+
+As evening approached, the whiskey brought out the senseless prejudices
+of parties and factions in a manner quite consonant to the habits of the
+people. Those who, in deciding their private quarrels, had in the
+early part of the day beat and abused each other, now united as the
+subordinate branches of a greater party, for the purpose of opposing in
+one general body some other hostile faction. These fights are usually
+commenced by a challenge from one party to another, in which a person
+from the opposite side is simply, and often very good-humoredly, invited
+to assert, that "black is the white of his enemy's eye;" or to touch the
+old coat which he is pleased to trail after him between the two opposing
+powers. This characteristic challenge is soon accepted; the knocking
+down and yelling are heard; stones fly, and every available weapon
+is pressed into the service on both sides. In this manner the battle
+proceeds, until, probably, a life or two is lost. Bones, too, are
+savagely broken, and blood copiously spilled, by men who scarcely know
+the remote cause of the enmity between the parties.
+
+Such is a hasty sketch of the Pattern, as it is called in Ireland, at
+which Larry and Sheelah duly performed their station. We, for our parts,
+should be sorry to see the innocent pastimes of a people abolished; but,
+surely, customs which perpetuate scenes of profligacy and crime should
+not be suffered to stain the pure and holy character of religion.
+
+It is scarcely necessary to inform our readers that Larry O'Toole and
+Sheelah complied with every rite of the Station. To kiss the "Lucky
+Stone," however, was their principal duty. Larry gave it a particularly
+honest smack, and Sheelah impressed it with all the ardor of a devotee.
+Having refreshed themselves in the tent, they returned home, and, in
+somewhat less than a year from that period, found themselves the happy
+parents of an heir to the half-acre, no less a personage than young
+Phelim, who was called after St. Phelim, the patron of the "Lucky
+Stone."
+
+The reader perceives that Phelim was born under particularly auspicious
+influence. His face was the herald of affection everywhere.
+
+From the moment of his birth, Larry and Sheelah were seldom known to
+have a dispute. Their whole future life was, with few exceptions, one
+unchanging honeymoon. Had Phelim been deficient in comeliness, it would
+have mattered not a _crona baun_. Phelim, on the contrary, promised to
+be a beauty; both, his parents thought it, felt it, asserted it; and who
+had a better right to be acquainted, as Larry said, "wid the outs an'
+ins, the ups an' downs of his face, the darlin' swaddy!"
+
+For the first ten years of his life Phelim could not be said to owe
+the tailor much; nor could the covering which he wore be, without more
+antiquarian loire than we can give to it, exactly classed under any
+particular term by which the various parts of human dress are known. He
+himself, like some of our great poets, was externally well acquainted
+with the elements. The sun and he were particularly intimate; wind and
+rain were his brothers, and frost also distantly related to him. With
+mud he was hand and glove, and not a bog in the parish, or a quagmire
+in the neighborhood, but sprung up under Phelim's tread, and threw him
+forward with the brisk vibration of an old acquaintance. Touching his
+dress, however, in the early part of his life, if he was clothed with
+nothing else, he was clothed with mystery. Some assert that a cast-off
+pair of his father's nether garments might be seen upon him each Sunday,
+the wrong side foremost, in accommodation with some economy of his
+mother's, who thought it safest, in consequence of his habits, to join
+them in this inverted way to a cape which he wore on his shoulders. We
+ourselves have seen one, who saw another, who saw Phelim in a pair of
+stockings which covered him from his knee-pans to his haunches, where,
+in the absence of waistbands, they made a pause--a breach existing from
+that to the small of his back. The person who saw all this affirmed, at
+the same time, that there was a dearth of cloth about the skirts of
+the integument which stood him instead of a coat. He bore no bad
+resemblance, he said, to-a moulting fowl, with scanty feathers, running
+before a gale in the farm yard.
+
+Phelim's want of dress in his merely boyish years being, in a great
+measure, the national costume of some hundred thousand young Hibernians
+in his rank of life, deserves a still more, particular notice. His
+infancy we pass over; but from the period at which he did not enter
+into small clothes, he might be seen every Sunday morning, or on some
+important festival, issuing from his father's mansion, with a piece of
+old cloth tied about him from the middle to the knees, leaving a pair
+of legs visible, that were mottled over with characters which would,
+if found on an Egyptian pillar, put an antiquary to the necessity of
+constructing a new alphabet to decipher them. This, or the inverted
+breeches, with his father's flannel waistcoat, or an old coat that swept
+the ground at least two feet behind him, constituted his state dress. On
+week days he threw off this finery, and contented himself, if the season
+were summer, with appearing in a dun-colored shirt, which resembled
+a noun-substantive, for it could stand alone. The absence of soap and
+water is sometimes used as a substitute for milling linen among the
+lower Irish; and so effectually had Phelim's single change been milled
+in this manner, that, when disenshirting at night, he usually laid
+it standing at his bedside where it reminded one of frosted linen in
+everything but whiteness.
+
+This, with but little variation, was Phelim's dress until his tenth
+year. Long before that, however, he evinced those powers of attraction
+which constituted so remarkable a feature in his character. He won all
+hearts; the chickens and ducks were devotedly attached to him; the cow,
+which the family always intended to buy, was in the habit of licking
+Phelim in his dreams; the two goats which they actually did buy, treated
+him like I one of themselves. Among the first and last he spent a great
+deal of his early life; for as the floor of his father's house was but
+a continuation of the dunghill, or the dunghill a continuation of the
+floor, we know not rightly which, he had a larger scope, and a more
+unsavory pool than usual, for amusement. Their dunghill, indeed, was the
+finest of it size and kind to be seen; quite a tasteful thing, and so
+convenient, that he could lay himself down at the hearth, and roll
+out to its foot, after which he ascended it on his legs, with all the
+elasticity of a young poet triumphantly climbing Parnassus.
+
+One of the greatest wants which Phelim experienced in his young days,
+was the want of a capacious pocket. We insinuate nothing; because with
+respect to his agility in climbing fruit-trees, it was only a species of
+exercise to which he was addicted--the eating and carrying away of the
+fruit being merely incidental, or, probably, the result of abstraction,
+which, as every one knows, proves what is termed "the Absence of
+Genius." In these ambitious exploits, however, there is no denying that
+he bitterly regretted the want of a pocket; and in connection with this
+we have only to add, that most of his solitary walks were taken about
+orchards and gardens, the contents of which he has been often seen to
+contemplate with deep interest. This, to be sure, might proceed from
+a provident regard to health, for it is a well-known fact that he
+has frequently returned home in the evenings, distended like a
+Boa-Constrictor after a gorge; yet no person was ever able to come at
+the cause of his inflation. There were, to be sure, suspicions abroad,
+and it was mostly found that depredations in some neighboring orchard
+or garden had been committed a little before the periods in which it was
+supposed the distention took place. Wo mention these things after the
+example of those "d----d good-natured" biographers who write great men's
+lives of late, only for the purpose of showing that there could be no
+truth in such suspicions. Phelim, we assure an enlightened public, was
+voraciously fond of fruit; he was frequently inflated, too, after the
+manner of those who indulge therein to excess; fruit was always
+missed immediately after the periods of his distention, so that it was
+impossible he could have been concerned in the depredations then
+made upon the neighboring orchards. In addition to this, we would beg
+modestly to add, that the pomonian temperament is incompatible with the
+other qualities for which he was famous. His parents were too ignorant
+of those little eccentricities which, had they known them, would have
+opened up a correct view of the splendid materials for village greatness
+which he possessed, and which, probably, were nipped in their bud
+for the want of a pocket to his breeches, or rather by the want of
+a breeches to his pocket; for such was the wayward energy of his
+disposition, that he ultimately succeeded in getting the latter, though
+it certainly often failed him to procure the breeches. In fact, it was
+a misfortune to him that he was the Son of his father and mother at all.
+Had he been a second Melchizedec, and got into breeches in time,
+the virtues which circumstances suppressed in his heart might have
+flourished like cauliflowers, though the world would have lost all the
+advantages arising from the splendor of his talents at going naked.
+
+Another fact, in justice to his character, must not be omitted. His
+penchant for fruit was generally known; but few persons, at the period
+we are describing, were at all aware that a love of whiskey lurked as a
+predominant trait in his character, to be brought out at a future era in
+his life.
+
+Before Phelim reached his tenth year, he and his parents had commenced
+hostilities. Many were their efforts to subdue some peculiarities of his
+temper which then began to appear. Phelim, however, being an only son,
+possessed high vantage ground. Along with other small matters which
+he was in the habit of picking up, might be reckoned a readiness
+at swearing. Several other things also made their appearance in
+his parents' cottage, for whose presence there, except through his
+instrumentality, they found it rather difficult to account. Spades,
+shovels, rakes, tubs, frying-pans, and many other-articles of domestic
+use, were transferred, as if by magic, to Larry's cabin.
+
+As Larry and his wife were both honest, these things were, of course,
+restored to their owners, the moment they could be ascertained. Still,
+although this honest couple's integrity was known, there were many
+significant looks turned upon Phelim, and many spirited prophecies
+uttered with especial reference to him, all of which hinted at the
+probability of his dying something in the shape of a perpendicular
+death. This habit, then, of adding to their furniture, was one cause of
+the hostility between him and his parents; we say one, for there were at
+least, a good round dozen besides. His touch, for instance, was fatal to
+crockery; he stripped his father's Sunday clothes of their buttons,
+with great secrecy and skill; he was a dead shot at the panes of his
+neighbors' windows; a perfect necromancer at sucking eggs through
+pin-holes; took great delight in calling home the neighboring farmers'
+workingmen to dinner an hour before it was ready; and was in fact a
+perfect master in many other ingenious manifestations of character, ere
+he reached his twelfth year.
+
+Now, it was about this period that the small-pox made its appearance in
+the village. Indescribable was the dismay of Phelim's parents, lest
+he among others might become a victim to it. Vaccination, had not then
+surmounted the prejudices with which every discovery beneficial to
+mankind is at first met; and the people were left principally to the
+imposture of quacks, or the cunning of certain persons called "fairy
+men" or "sonsie women." Nothing remained now but that this formidable
+disease should be met by all the power and resources of superstition.
+The first thing the mother did was to get a gospel consecrated by the
+priest, for the purpose of guarding Phelim against evil. What is termed
+a Gospel, and worn as a kind of charm about the person, is simply a slip
+of paper, on which are written by the priest the few first verses of the
+Gospel of St. John. This, however, being worn for no specific purpose,
+was incapable of satisfying the honest woman. Superstition had its own
+peculiar remedy for the small-pox, and Sheelah was resolved to apply it.
+Accordingly she borrowed a neighbor's ass, drove it home with Phelim,
+however, on its back, took the interesting youth by the nape of the
+neck, and, in the name of the Trinity, shoved him three times under it,
+and three times over it. She then put a bit of bread into its mouth,
+until the ass had mumbled it a little, after which she gave the savory
+morsel to Phelim, as a _bonne bouche_. This was one preventive against
+the small-pox; but another was to be tried.
+
+She next clipped off the extremities of Phelim's elf locks, tied them in
+linen that was never bleached, and hung them beside the Gospel about
+his neck. This was her second cure; but there was still a third to be
+applied. She got the largest onion possible, which, having cut into nine
+parts, she hung from the roof tree of the cabin, having first put the
+separated parts together. It is supposed that this has the power of
+drawing infection of any kind to itself. It is permitted to remain
+untouched, until the disease has passed from the neighborhood, when it
+is buried as far down in the earth as a single man can dig. This was
+a third cure; but there was still a fourth. She borrowed ten asses'
+halters from her neighbors, who, on hearing that they were for Phelim's
+use, felt particular pleasure in obliging her. Having procured these,
+she pointed them one by one at Phelim's neck, until the number nine
+was completed. The tenth, she put on him, and with the end of it in
+her hand, led him like an ass, nine mornings, before sunrise, to a
+south-running stream, which he was obliged to cross. On doing this, two
+conditions were to be fulfilled on the part of Phelim; he was bound, in
+the first place, to keep his mouth filled, during the ceremony, with a
+certain fluid which must be nameless: in the next, to be silent from the
+moment he left home until his return.
+
+Sheelah having satisfied herself that everything calculated to save her
+darling from the small-pox was done, felt considerably relieved, and
+hoped that whoever might be infected, Phelim would escape. On the
+morning when the last journey to the river had been completed, she
+despatched him home with the halters. Phelim, however, wended his way to
+a little hazel copse, below the house, where he deliberately twined
+the halters together, and erected a swing-swang, with which he amused
+himself till hunger brought him to his dinner.
+
+"Phelim, you idle thief, what kep you away till now?"
+
+"Oh; mudher, mudher, gi' me a piece o' arran? (* bread.)
+
+"Why, here's the praties done for your dinner. What kep you?"
+
+"Oh, be gorra, it's well you ever seen me at all, so it is!"
+
+"Why," said his father, "what happened you?"
+
+"Oh, bedad, a terrible thing all out. As I was crassin' Dunroe Hill, I
+thramped on hungry grass. First, I didn't know what kem over me, I got
+so wake; an' every step I wint, 'twas waker an' waker I was growin',
+till at long last, down I dhrops, an' couldn't move hand or fut. I dunna
+how long I lay there, so I don't; but anyhow, who should be _sthreelin_'
+acrass the hill, but an old _baccagh_.
+
+"'My _bouchaleen dhas_,' says he--'my beautiful boy,' says he--'you're
+in a bad state I find. You've thramped upon Dunroe _hungry grass_, an'
+only for somethin' it's a _prabeen_ you'd be, afore ever you'd see home.
+Can you spake at all?' says he.
+
+"'Oh, murdher,' says I,' I b'lieve not.'
+
+"'Well here,' says the baccagh, 'open your purty gub, an' take in a
+thrifle of this male, an' you'll soon be stout enough.' Well, to be
+sure, it bates the world! I had hardly tasted the male, whin I found
+myself as well as ever; bekase you know, mudher, that's the cure for
+it. 'Now,' says the baccagh, 'this is the spot the fairies planted their
+hungry grass, an' so you'll know it agin when you see it. What's your
+name?' says he.
+
+"'Phelim O'Toole,' says I.
+
+"'Well,' says he, 'go home an' tell your father an' mother to offer up
+a prayer to St. Phelim, your namesake, in regard that only for him you'd
+be a corp before any relief would a come near you; or, at any rate, wid
+the fairies.'"
+
+The father and mother, although with a thousand proofs before them that
+Phelim, so long as he could at all contrive a lie, would never speak
+truth, yet were so blind to his well-known propensity, that they
+always believed the lie to be truth, until they discovered it to be a
+falsehood. When he related a story, for instance, which carried not
+only improbability, but impossibility on the face of it, they never
+questioned his veracity. The neighbors, to be sure, were vexed and
+nettled at the obstinacy of their credulity; especially on reflecting
+that they were as sceptical in giving credence to the narrative of any
+other person, as all rational people ought to be. The manner of training
+up Phelim, and Phelim's method of governing them, had become a by-word
+in the village. "Take a sthraw to him, like Sheelah O'Toole," was often
+ironically said to mothers remarkable for mischievous indulgence to
+their children.
+
+The following day proved that no charm could protect Phelim from the
+small-pox. Every symptom of that disease became quite evident; and the
+grief of his doting parents amounted to distraction. Neither of them
+could be declared perfectly sane; they knew not how to proceed--what
+regimen to adopt for him, nor what remedies to use. A week elapsed, but
+each succeeding day found him in a more dangerous state. At length, by
+the advice of some of the neighbors, an old crone, called "Sonsy Mary,"
+was called in to administer relief through the medium of certain
+powers which were thought to be derived from something holy and also
+supernatural. She brought a mysterious bottle, of which he was to take
+every third spoonful, three times a day; it was to be administered by
+the hand of a young girl of virgin innocence, who was also to breathe
+three times down his throat, holding his nostrils closed with her
+fingers. The father and mother were to repeat a certain number of
+prayers; to promise against swearing, and to kiss the hearth-stone nine
+times--the one turned north, and the other south. All these ceremonies
+were performed with care, but Phelim's malady appeared to set them
+at defiance; and the old crone would have lost her character in
+consequence, were it not that Larry, on the day of the cure, after
+having promised not to swear, let fly an oath at a hen, whose cackling
+disturbed Phelim. This saved her character, and threw Larry and Sheelah
+into fresh despair.
+
+They had nothing now for it but the "fairy man," to whom, despite the
+awful mystery of his character, they resolved to apply rather than see
+their only son taken from them for ever. Larry proceeded without delay
+to the wise man's residence, after putting a small phial of holy water
+in his pocket to protect himself from fairy influence. The house in
+which this person lived was admirably in accordance with his mysterious
+character. One gable of it was formed by the mound of a fairy Rath,
+against the cabin, which stood endwise; within a mile there was no other
+building; the country around it was a sheep-walk, green, and beautifully
+interspersed with two or three solitary glens, in one of which might be
+seen a cave that was said to communicate under ground with the rath. A
+ridge of high-Peaked mountains ran above it, whose evening shadow, in
+consequence of their form, fell down on each side of the rath, without
+obscuring its precincts. It lay south; and, such was the power of
+superstition, that during summer, the district in which it stood was
+thought to be covered with a light decidedly supernatural. In spring, it
+was the first to be in verdure, and in autumn the last. Nay, in winter
+itself, the rath and the adjoining valleys never ceased to be green,
+these circumstances were not attributed to the nature of the soil, to
+its southern situation, nor to the fact of its being pasture land;
+but simply to the power of the fairies, who were supposed to keep its
+verdure fresh for their own revels.
+
+When Larry entered the house, which had an air of comfort and snugness
+beyond the common, a tall thin pike of a man, about sixty years of age,
+stood before him. He wore a brown great-coat that fell far short of his
+knees; his small-clothes were closely fitted to thighs not thicker than
+hand telescopes; on his legs were drawn gray woollen stockings, rolled
+up about six inches over his small-clothes; his head was covered by a
+bay bob-wig, on which was a little round, hat, with the edge of the leaf
+turned up in every direction. His face was short and sallow; his chin
+peaked; his nose small and turned up. If we add to this, a pair of
+skeleton-like hands and arms projecting about eight inches beyond the
+sleeves of his coat; two fiery ferret-eyes; and a long small holly wand,
+higher than himself, we have the outline of this singular figure.
+
+"God save you, nabor," said Larry.
+
+"Save you, save you, neighbor," he replied, without pronouncing the name
+of the deity.
+
+"This is a thryin' time," said Larry, "to them that has childhre."
+
+The fairy-man fastened his red glittering eyes upon him, with a sinister
+glance that occasioned Larry to feel rather uncomfortable.
+
+"So you venthured to come to the fairy-man?"
+
+"It is about our son, an' he all we ha--"
+
+"Whisht!" said the man, waving his hand with a commanding air. "Whisht;
+I wish you wor out o' this, for it's a bad time to be here. Listen!
+Listen! Do you hear nothing?"
+
+Larry changed color. "I do," he replied--"The Lord protect me: Is that
+them?"
+
+"What did you hear?" said the man.
+
+"Why," returned the other, "I heard the bushes of the rath all movin',
+jist as if a blast o' wind came among them!"
+
+"Whisht," said the fairy-man, "they're here; you mustn't open your lips
+while you're in the house. I know what you want, an' will see your son.
+Do you hear anything more? If you do, lay your forefinger along your
+nose; but don't spake."
+
+Larry heard with astonishment, the music of a pair of bagpipes. The tune
+played was one which, according to a popular legend, was first played
+by Satan; it is called: "Go to the Devil and shake yourself." To our own
+knowledge, the peasantry in certain parts of Ireland refuse to sing it
+for the above reason. The mystery of the music was heightened too by
+the fact of its being played, as Larry thought, behind the gable of the
+cabin, which stood against the side of the rath, out of which, indeed,
+it seemed to proceed.
+
+Larry laid his finger along his nose, as he had been desired; and this
+appearing to satisfy the fairy-man, he waved his hand to the door, thus
+intimating that his visitor should depart; which he did immediately, but
+not without observing that this wild-looking being closed and bolted the
+door after him.
+
+It is unnecessary to say that he was rather anxious to get off the
+premises of the good people; he therefore lost little time until he
+arrived at his own cabin; but judge of his wonder when, on entering it,
+he found the long-legged spectre awaiting his return.
+
+"_Banaght dhea orrin!_" he exclaimed, starting back; "the blessing of
+God be upon us! Is it here before me you are?"
+
+"Hould your tongue, man," said the other, with a smile of mysterious
+triumph. "Is it that you wondher at? Ha, ha! That's little of it!"
+
+"But how did you know my name? or who I was? or where I lived at all?
+Heaven protect us! it's beyant belief, clane out."
+
+"Hould your tongue," replied the man; "don't be axin' me any thing o'
+the kind. Clear out, both of ye, till I begin my pisthrogues wid the
+sick child. Clear out, I say."
+
+With some degree of apprehension, Larry and Sheelah left the house as
+they had been ordered, and the Fairy-man having pulled out a flask of
+poteen, administered a dose of it to Phelim; and never yet did patient
+receive his medicine with such a relish. He licked his lips, and fixed
+his eye upon it with a longing look.
+
+"Be Gorra," said he, "that's fine stuff entirely. Will you lave me the
+bottle?"
+
+"No," said the Fairy-man, "but I'll call an' give you a little of it
+wanst a day."
+
+"Ay do," replied Phelim; "the divil a fear o' me, if I get enough of it.
+I hope I'll see you often."
+
+The Fairy-man kept his word; so that what with his bottle, a hardy
+constitution, and light bed-clothes, Phelim got the upper hand of his
+malady. In a month he was again on his legs; but, alas! his complexion
+though not changed to deformity, was wofully out of joint. His principal
+blemish, in addition to the usual marks left by his complaint, consisted
+in a drooping of his left eyelid, which gave to his whole face a cast
+highly ludicrous.
+
+When Phelim felt thoroughly recovered, he claimed a pair of "leather
+crackers," * a hare-skin cap, and a coat, with a pertinacity which kept
+the worthy couple in a state of inquietude, until they complied with
+his importunity. Henceforth he began to have everything his own way. His
+parents, sufficiently thankful that he was spared to them, resolved to
+thwart him no more.
+
+     * Breeches made of sheep's skin, so called from the
+     noise they make in walking or running.
+
+"It's well we have him at all," said his mother; "sure if we hadn't him,
+we'd be breakin' our hearts, and sayin' if it 'ud plase God to send him
+back to us, that we'd be happy even wid givin' him his own way."
+
+"They say it breaks their strinth, too," replied his father, "to be
+crubbin' them in too much, an' snappin' at thim for every hand's turn,
+an' I'm sure it does too."
+
+"Doesn't he become the pock-marks well, the crathur?" said the mdther.
+
+"Become!" said the father; "but doesn't the droop in his eye set him off
+all to pieces!"
+
+"Ay," observed the mother, "an' how the crathur went round among all the
+neighbors to show them the 'leather crackers!' To see his little pride
+out o' the hare-skin cap, too, wid the hare's ears stickin' out of his
+temples. That an' the droopin: eye undher them makes him look so cunnin'
+an' ginteel, that one can't help havin' their heart fixed upon him."
+
+"He'd look betther still if that ould coat wasn't sweepin' the ground
+behind him; an' what 'ud you think to put a pair o' _martyeens_ on his
+legs to hide the mazles! He might go anywhere thin."
+
+"Throth he might; but Larry, what in the world wide could be in the
+Fairy-man's bottle that Phelim took sich a likin' for it. He tould me
+this mornin' that he'd suffer to have the pock agin, set in case he was
+cured wid the same bottle."
+
+"Well, the Heaven be praised, any how, that we have a son for the
+half-acre, Sheelah.'
+
+"Amin! An' let us take good care of him, now that he's spared to us."
+
+Phelim's appetite, after his recovery, was anything but a joke to
+his father. He was now seldom at home, except during meal times; for
+wherever fun or novelty was to be found, Phelim was present. He became
+a regular attendant upon all the sportsmen. To such he made himself very
+useful by his correct knowledge of the best covers for game, and the
+best pools for fish. He was acquainted with every rood of land in the,
+parish; knew with astonishing accuracy where coveys were to be sprung,
+and hares started. No hunt was without him; such was his wind and speed
+of foot, that to follow a chase and keep up with the horsemen was to him
+only a matter of sport. When daylight passed, night presented him with
+amusements suitable to itself. No wake, for instance, could escape him;
+a dance without young Phelim O'Toole would have been a thing worthy
+to be remembered. He was zealously devoted to cock-fighting; on
+Shrove-Tuesday he shouted loudest among the crowd that attended the
+sport of throwing at cooks tied to a stake; foot-ball and hurling never
+occurred without him. Bull-baiting--for it was common in his
+youth--was luxury to him; and, ere he reached fourteen, every one knew
+Phelim O'Toole as an adept at card-playing. Wherever a sheep, a leg of
+mutton, a dozen of bread, or a bottle of whiskey was put up in a shebeen
+house, to be played for by the country gamblers at the five and ten, or
+spoil'd five, Phelim always took a hand and was generally successful. On
+these occasions he was frequently charged with an over-refined
+dexterity; but Phelim usually swore, in vindication of his own
+innocence, until he got black in the face, as the phrase among such
+characters goes.
+
+The reader is to consider him now about fifteen--a stout, overgrown,
+unwashed cub. His parents' anxiety that he should grow strong, prevented
+them from training him to any kind of employment. He was eternally going
+about in quest of diversion; and wherever a knot of idlers was to be
+found, there was Phelim. He had, up to this period, never worn a shoe,
+nor a single article of dress that had been made for himself, with the
+exception of one or two pair of sheepskin small-clothes. In this way he
+passed his time, bare-legged, without shoes, clothed in an old coat much
+too large for him, his neck open, and his sooty locks covered with the
+hare-skin cap, the ears as usual sticking out above his brows. Much of
+his time was spent in setting the idle boys of the village to fight; and
+in carrying lying challenges from one to another. He himself was seldom
+without a broken head or a black eye; for in Ireland, he who is known
+to be fond of quarrelling, as the people say, usually "gets enough
+an' lavins of it." Larry and Sheelah, thinking it now high time that
+something should be done with Phelim, thought it necessary to give
+him some share of education. Phelim opposed this bitterly as an
+unjustifiable encroachment upon his personal liberty; but, by bribing
+him with the first and only suit of clothes he had yet got, they at
+length succeeded in prevailing on him to go.
+
+The school to which he was sent happened to be kept in what is called
+an inside Kiln. This kind of kiln is usually--but less so now than
+formerly--annexed to respectable farmers' outhouses, to which, in
+agricultural districts, it forms a very necessary appendage. It also
+serves at the same time as a barn, the kiln-pot being sunk in the shape
+of an inverted cone at one end, but divided from the barn floor by
+a wall about three feet high. From this wall beams run across the
+kiln-pot, over which, in a transverse direction, are laid a number of
+rafters like the joists of a loft, but not fastened. These ribs are
+covered with straw, over which again is spread a winnow-cloth to keep
+the grain from being lost. The fire is sunk on a level with the bottom
+of the kiln-pot, that is, about eight or ten feet below the floor of the
+barn. The descent to it is by stairs formed at the side wall. We have
+been thus minute in describing it, because, as the reader will presently
+perceive, the feats of Phelim render it necessary.
+
+On the first day of his entering the school he presented himself with
+a black eye; and as his character was well known to both master and
+scholars, the former felt no hesitation in giving him a wholesome
+lecture upon the subject of his future conduct. For at least a year
+before this time, he had gained the nick-name of "Blessed Phelim," and
+"Bouncing," epithets bestowed on him by an ironical allusion to his
+patron saint, and his own habits.
+
+"So, Blessed Phelim," said the master, "you are comin' to school!!!
+Well, well! I only say that miracles will never cease. Arrah, Phelim,
+will you tell us candidly--ah--I beg your pardon; I mean, will you tell
+us the best lie you can coin upon the cause of your coming to imbibe
+moral and literary knowledge? Silence, boys, till we hear Blessed
+Phelim's lie."
+
+"You must hear it, masther," said Phelim. "I'm comin' to larn to read
+an' write."
+
+"Bravo! By the bones of Prosodius, I expected a lie, but not such a
+thumper as that. And you're comin' wid a black eye to prove it! A black
+eye, Phelim, is the blackguard's coat of arms; and to do you justice,
+you are seldom widout your crest."
+
+For a few days Phelim attended the school, but learned not a letter. The
+master usually sent him to be taught by the youngest lads, with a hope
+of being able to excite a proper spirit of pride and emulation in a mind
+that required some extraordinary impulse. One day he called him up to
+ascertain what progress he had actually made; the unsuspecting teacher
+sat at the time upon the wall which separated the barn-floor from the
+kiln-pot, with his legs dangling at some distance from the ground. It
+was summer, any rafters used in drying the grain had been removed. On
+finding that Blessed Phelim, notwithstanding all the lessons he had
+received, was still in a state of the purest ignorance, he lost his
+temper, and brought him over between his knees, that he might give
+him an occasional cuff for his idleness. The lesson went on, and the
+master's thumps were thickening about Phelim's ears, much to the worthy
+youth's displeasure.
+
+"Phelim," said the master, "I'll invert you a scarecrow for dunces. I'll
+lay you against the wall, with your head down and your heels up like a
+forked carrot."
+
+"But how will you manage that?" said Phelim. "What 'ud I be doin' in the
+mane time?"
+
+"I'll find a way to manage it," said the master.
+
+"To put my head down an' my heels up, is it?" inquired Phelim.
+
+"You've said it, my worthy," returned his teacher.
+
+"If you don't know the way," replied the pupil, "I'll show you;" getting
+his shoulder under the master's leg, and pitching him heels over his
+head into the kiln-pot. He instantly seized his cap, and ran out of the
+school, highly delighted at his feat; leaving the scholars to render the
+master whatever assistance was necessary. The poor man was dangerously
+hurt, for in addition to a broken arm, he received half a dozen severe
+contusions on the head, and in different parts of the body.
+
+This closed Phelim's education; for no persuasion could ever induce him
+to enter a school afterwards; nor could any temptation prevail on the
+neighboring teachers to admit him as a pupil.
+
+Phelim now shot up rapidly to the stature of a young man; and a
+graceful slip was he. From the period of fifteen until nineteen, he was
+industriously employed in idleness. About sixteen he began to look
+after the girls, and to carry a cudgel. The father in vain attempted
+to inoculate him with a love of labor; but Phelim would not receive the
+infection. His life was a pleasanter one. Sometimes, indeed, when he
+wanted money to treat the girls at fairs and markets, he would prevail
+on himself to labor a week or fortnight with some neighboring farmer;
+but the moment he had earned as much as he deemed sufficient, the spade
+was thrown aside. Phelim knew all the fiddlers and pipers in the barony;
+was master of the ceremonies at every wake and dance that occurred
+within several miles of him. He was a crack dancer, and never attended a
+dance without performing a horn-pipe on a door or a table; no man could
+shuffle, or treble, or cut, or spring, or caper with him. Indeed it was
+said that he could dance "Moll Roe" upon the end of a five-gallon keg,
+and snuff a mould candle with his heels, yet never lose the time. The
+father and mother were exceedingly proud of Phelim, The former, when he
+found him grown up, and associating with young men, began to feel a kind
+of ambition in being permitted to join Phelim and his companions, and
+to look upon the society of his own son as a privilege. With the girls
+Phelim was a beauty without paint. They thought every wake truly a scene
+of sorrow, if he did not happen to be present. Every dance was doleful
+without him. Phelim wore his hat on one side, with a knowing but
+careless air; he carried his cudgel with a good-humored, dashing spirit,
+precisely in accordance with the character of a man who did not care a
+traneen whether he drank with you as a friend or fought with you as a
+foe. Never were such songs heard as Phelim could sing, nor such a
+voice as that with which he sang them. His attitudes and action were
+inimitable. The droop in his eye was a standing wink at the girls;
+and when he sang his funny songs, with what practised ease he gave the
+darlings a roguish chuck under the chin! Then his jokes! "Why, faix,"
+as the fair ones often said of him, "before Phelim speaks at all, one
+laughs at what he says." This was fact. His very appearance at a wake,
+dance, or drinking match, was hailed by a peal of mirth. This heightened
+his humor exceedingly; for say what you will, laughter is to wit what
+air is to fire--the one dies without the other.
+
+Let no one talk of beauty being on the surface. This is a popular error,
+and no one but a superficial fellow would defend it Among ten thousand
+you could not get a more unfavorable surface than Phelim's. His face
+resembled the rough side of a cullender, or, as he was often told in
+raillery, "you might grate potatoes on it." The lid of his left eye,
+as the reader knows, was like the lid of a salt-box, always closed; and
+when he risked a wink with the right, it certainly gave him the look of
+a man shutting out the world, and retiring into himself for the purpose
+of self-examination. No, no; beauty is in the mind; in the soul;
+otherwise Phelim never could have been such a prodigy of comeliness
+among the girls. This was the distinction the fair sex drew in his
+favor. "Phelim," they would say, "is not purty, but he's very comely.
+Bad end to the one of him but would stale a pig off a tether, wid his
+winnin' ways." And so he would, too, without much hesitation, for it was
+not the first time he had stolen his father's.
+
+From nineteen until the close of his minority, Phelim became a
+distinguished man in fairs and markets. He was, in fact, the hero of
+the parish; but, unfortunately, he seldom knew on the morning of the
+fair-day the name of the party or faction on whose side he was to fight.
+This was merely a matter of priority; for whoever happened to give him
+the first treat uniformly secured him. The reason of this pliability
+on his part was, that Phelim being every person's friend, by his good
+nature, was nobody's foe, except for the day. He fought for fun and for
+whiskey. When he happened to drub some companion or acquaintance on
+the opposite side, he was ever ready to express his regret at the
+circumstance, and abused, them heartily for not having treated him
+first.
+
+Phelim was also a great Ribbonman; and from the time he became initiated
+into the system, his eyes were wonderfully opened to the oppressions of
+the country. Sessions, decrees, and warrants he looked upon as I gross
+abuses; assizes, too, by which so many of his friends were put to
+some inconvenience, he considered as the result of Protestant
+Ascendancy--cancers that ought to be cut out of the constitution.
+Bailiffs, drivers, tithe-proctors, tax-gatherers, policemen, and
+parsons, he thought were vermin that ought to be compelled to emigrate
+to a much warmer country than Ireland.
+
+There was no such hand in the county as Phelim at an alibi. Just give
+him the outline--a few leading particulars of the fact--and he would
+work wonders. One would think, indeed, that he had been born for that
+especial purpose; for, as he was never known to utter a syllable of
+truth but once, when he had a design in not being believed, so there was
+no risk of a lawyer getting truth out of him. No man was ever afflicted
+with such convenient maladies as Phelim; even his sprains, tooth-aches,
+and colics seemed to have entered into the Whiteboy system. But, indeed,
+the very diseases in Ireland are seditious. Many a time has a tooth-ache
+come in to aid Paddy in obstructing the course of justice; and a colic
+been guilty of misprision of treason. Irish deaths, too, are very
+disloyal, and frequently at variance with the laws: nor are our births
+much better; for although more legitimate than those of our English
+neighbors, yet they are in general more illegal. Phelim, in proving his
+alibis, proved all these positions. On one occasion, "he slep at
+the prisoner's house, and couldn't close his eye with a thief of a
+tooth-ache that parsecuted him the whole night;" so, that in consequence
+of having the tooth-ache, it was impossible that the prisoner could
+leave the house without his knowledge.
+
+Again, the prisoner at the bar could not possibly have shot the
+deceased, "bekase Mickey slept that very night at Phelim's, an' Phelim,
+bein' ill o' the colic, never slep at all durin' the whole night; an',
+by the vartue of his oath, the poor boy couldn't go out o' the house
+unknownst to him. If he had, Phelim would a seen him, sure."
+
+Again, "Paddy Cummisky's wife tuck ill of a young one, an' Phelim was
+sent for to bring the midwife; but afore he kem to Paddy's, or hard o'
+the thing at all, the prisoner, airly in the night, comin' to sit awhile
+wid Paddy, went for the midwife instead o' Phelim, an' thin they sot up
+an' had a sup in regard of the 'casion; an' the prisoner never left
+them at all that night until the next mornin'. An' by the same token,
+he remimbered Paddy Cummisky barrin' the door, an' shuttin' the windies,
+bekase it's not lucky to have them open, for fraid that the fairies 'ud
+throw their _pishthrogues_ upon the young one, an' it not christened."
+
+Phelim was certainly an accomplished youth. As an alibist, however, his
+career was, like that of all alibists, a short one. The fact was, that
+his face soon became familiar to the court and the lawyers, so that his
+name and appearance were ultimately rather hazardous to the cause of his
+friends.
+
+Phelim, on other occasions, when summoned as evidence against his
+well-wishers or brother Ribbonmen, usually forgot his English, and gave
+his testimony by an interpreter. Nothing could equal his ignorance and
+want of common capacity during these trials. His face was as free from
+every visible trace of meaning as if he had been born an idiot. No block
+was ever more impenetrable than he.
+
+"What is the noble gintleman sayin'?" he would ask in Irish; and on
+having that explained, he would inquire, "what is that?" then demand a
+fresh explanation of the last one, and so on successively, until he was
+given up in despair.
+
+Sometimes, in cases of a capital nature, Phelim, with the consent of his
+friends, would come forward and make disclosures, in order to have them
+put upon their trial and acquitted; lest a real approver, or some one
+earnestly disposed to prosecute, might appear against them. Now the
+alibi and its usual accompaniments are all of old standing in Ireland;
+but the master-stroke to which we have alluded is a modern invention.
+Phelim would bear evidence against them; and whilst the government--for
+it was mostly in government prosecutions he adventured this--believed
+they had ample grounds for conviction in his disclosures, it little
+suspected that the whole matter was a plan to defeat itself. In
+accordance with his design, he gave such evidence upon the table as
+rendered conviction hopeless. His great object was to damn his own
+character as a witness, and to make such blunders, premeditated slips,
+and admissions, as just left him within an inch of a prosecution for
+perjury. Having succeeded in acquitting his friends, he was content
+to withdraw amid a volley of pretended execrations, leaving the
+Attorney-General, with all his legal knowledge, outwitted and foiled.
+
+All Phelim's accomplishments, however, were nothing when compared to his
+gallantry. With personal disadvantages which would condemn any other man
+to old bachelorship, he was nevertheless the whiteheaded boy among the
+girls. He himself was conscious of this, and made his attacks upon their
+hearts indiscriminately. If he met an unmarried female only for five
+minutes, be she old or ugly, young or handsome, he devoted at least four
+minutes and three-quarters to the tender passion; made love to her with
+an earnestness that would deceive a saint; backed all his protestations
+with a superfluity of round oaths; and drew such a picture of her beauty
+as might suit the Houries of Mahomet's paradise.
+
+Phelim and his father were great associates. No two agreed better. They
+went to fairs and markets together; got drunk together; and returned
+home with their arms about each other's neck in the most loving and
+affectionate manner. Larry, as if Phelim were too modest to speak for
+himself, seldom met a young girl without laying siege to her for the
+son. He descanted upon his good qualities, glossed over his defects, and
+drew deeply upon invention in his behalf. Sheelah, on the other hand,
+was an eloquent advocate for him. She had her eye upon half a dozen of
+the village girls, to every one of whom she found something to say in
+Phelim's favor.
+
+But it is time the action of our story should commence. When Phelim had
+reached his twenty-fifth year, the father thought it was high time for
+him to marry. The good man had, of course, his own motives for this.
+In the first place, Phelim, with all his gallantry and cleverness, had
+never contributed a shilling, either toward his own support or that of
+the family. In the second place, he was never likely to do so. In the
+third place, the father found him a bad companion; for, in good truth,
+he had corrupted the good man's morals so evidently, that his character
+was now little better than that of his son. In the fourth place, he
+never thought of Phelim, that he did not see a gallows in the distance;
+and matrimony, he thought, might save him from hanging, as one poison
+neutralizes another. In the fifth place, the half-acre Was but a shabby
+patch to meet the exigencies of the family, since Phelim grew up.
+"Bouncing Phelim," as he was called for more reasons than one, had the
+gift of a good digestion, along with his other accomplishments; and with
+such energy was it exercised, that the "half-acre" was frequently in
+hazard of leaving the family altogether. The father, therefore, felt
+quite willing, if Phelim married, to leave him the inheritance, and seek
+a new settlement for himself. Or, if Phelim preferred leaving him, he
+agreed to give him one-half of it, together with an equal division of
+all his earthly goods; to wit--two goats, of which Phelim was to get
+one; six hens and a cock, of which Phelim was to get three hens, and the
+chance of a toss-up for the cock; four stools, of which Phelim was to
+get two; two pots--a large one and a small one--the former to go with
+Phelim; three horn spoons, of which Phelim was to get one, and the
+chance of a toss-up for a third. Phelim was to bring his own bed,
+provided he did not prefer getting a bottle of fresh straw as a
+connubial luxury. The blanket was a tender subject; for having been
+fourteen years in employment, it entangled the father and Phelim,
+touching the prudence of the latter claiming it all. The son was
+at length compelled to give it up, at least in the character of an
+appendage to his marriage property. He feared that the wife, should he
+not be able to replace it by a new one, or should she herself not be
+able to bring him one, as part of her dowry, would find the honeymoon
+rather lively. Phelim's bedstead admitted of no dispute, the floor of
+the cabin having served him in that capacity ever since he began to
+sleep in a separate bed. His pillow was his small clothes, and his quilt
+his own coat, under which he slept snugly enough.
+
+The father having proposed, and the son acceded to these arrangements,
+the next thing to be done was to pitch upon a proper girl as his wife.
+This being a more important matter, was thus discussed by the father and
+son, one evening, at their own fireside, in the presence of Sheelah.
+
+"Now, Phelim," said the father, "look about you, an' tell us what girl
+in the neighborhood you'd like to be married to."
+
+"Why," replied Phelim, "I'll lave that to you; jist point out the girl
+you'd like for your daughter-in-law, an' be she rich, poor, ould, or
+ugly, I'll delude her. That's the chat."
+
+"Ah, Phelim, if you could put your comedher an Gracey Dalton, you'd be a
+made boy. She has the full of a rabbit-skin o' guineas."
+
+"A made boy! Faith, they say I'm that as it is, you know. But would you
+wish me to put my comedher on Gracey Dalton? Spake out."
+
+"To be sure I would."
+
+"Ay," observed the mother, "or what 'ud you think of Miss Pattherson?
+That 'ud be the girl. She has a fine farm, an' five hundre pounds. She's
+a Protestant, but Phelim could make a Christian of her."
+
+"To be sure I could," said Phelim, "have her thumpin' her breast,
+and countin' her Padareens in no time. Would you wish me to have her,
+mudher?"
+
+"Throth an' I would, avick."
+
+"That 'ud never do," observed the father. "Sure you don't think she'd
+ever think of the likes o' Phelim?"
+
+"Don't make a goose of yourself, ould man," observed Phelim. "Do you
+think if I set about it, that I'd not manufacture her senses as asy as
+I'd peel a piatee?"
+
+"Well, well," replied the father, "in the name o' Goodness make up to
+her. Faith it ud' be somethin' to have a jauntin' car in the family!"
+
+"Ay, but what the sorra will I do for a suit o' clo'es?" observed
+Phelim. "I could never go near her in these breeches. My elbows, too,
+are out o' this ould coat, bad luck to it! An' as for a waistcoat, why,
+I dunna but it's a sin to call what I'm wearin' a waistcoat at all. Thin
+agin--why, blood alive, sure I can't go to her barefooted, an' I dunna
+but it 'ud be dacenter to do that same, than to step out in sich excuses
+for brogues as these. An' in regard o' the stockins', why, I've pulled
+them down, strivin' to look dacent, till one 'ud think the balls o' my
+legs is at my heels."
+
+"The sorra word's in that but thruth, any how," observed the father;
+"but what's to be done? For we have no way of gettin' them."
+
+"Faith, I don't know that," said Phelim. "What if we'd borry? I could
+get the loan of a pair of breeches from Dudley Dwire, an' a coat from
+Sam Appleton. We might thry Billy Brady for a waistcoat, an' a pair of
+stockings. Barny Buckram-back, the pinsioner, 'ud lend me his pumps; an'
+we want nothing now but a hat."
+
+"Nothin' under a Caroline 'ud do, goin' there," observed the father.
+
+"I think Father O'Hara 'ud oblige me wid the loan o' one for a day or
+two;" said Phelim; "he has two or three o' them, all as good as ever."
+
+"But, Phelim," said the father, "before we go to all this trouble, are
+you sure you could put your comedher on Miss Pattherson?"
+
+"None o' your nonsense," said Phelim, "don't you know I could? I hate
+a man to be puttin' questions to me, when he knows them himself. It's a
+fashion you have got, an' you ought to dhrop it."
+
+"Well thin," said the father, "let us set about it to-morrow. If we can
+borry the clo'es, thry your luck."
+
+Phelim and the father, the next morning, set out each in a different
+direction, to see how far they could succeed on the borrowing system.
+The father was to make a descent on Dudley Dwire for the breeches, and
+appeal to the generosity of Sam Appleton for the coat. Phelim himself
+was to lay his case before the priest, and to assail Buckram-back, the
+pensioner, on his way home, for the brogues.
+
+When Phelim arrived at the priest's house, he found none of the family
+up but the housekeeper. After bidding her good morrow, and being desired
+to sit down, he entered into conversation with the good woman, who felt
+anxious to know the scandal of the whole parish.
+
+"Aren't you a son of Larry Toole's, young man?"
+
+"I am, indeed, Mrs. Doran. I'm Phelim O'Toole, my mother says."
+
+"I hope you're comin' to spake to the priest about your duty."
+
+"Why, then, be gorra, I'm glad you axed me, so I am--for only you seen
+the pinance in my face, you'd never suppose sich a thing. I want to make
+my confishion to him, wid the help o' Goodness."
+
+"Is there any news goin', Phelim?"
+
+"Divil a much, barrin' what you hard yourself, I suppose, about Frank
+Fogarty, that went mad yesterday, for risin' the meal on the poor, an'
+ate the ears off himself afore anybody could see him."
+
+"_Vick na hoiah_, Phelim; do you tell me so?"
+
+"Why man o' Moses, is it possible you did not hear it, ma'am?"
+
+"Oh, worra, man alive, not a syllable! Ate the ears off of himself!
+Phelim, acushla, see what it is to be hard an the poor!"
+
+"Oh, he was ever an' always the biggest nagar livin', ma'am. Ay, an'
+when he was tied up, till a blessed priest 'ud be brought to maliwgue
+the divil out of him, he got a scythe an' cut his own two hands off."
+
+"No thin, Phelim!"
+
+"Faitha, ma'am, sure enough. I suppose, ma'am, you hard about Biddy
+Duignan?"
+
+"Who is she, Phelim?"
+
+"Why the misfortunate crathurs a daughter of her father's, ould Mick
+Duignan, of Tavenimore."
+
+"An' what about her, Phehm! What happened her?"
+
+"Faix, ma'am, a bit of a mistake she met wid; but, anyhow, ould Harry
+Connolly's to stand in the chapel nine Sundays, an' to make three
+Stations to Lough Dergh for it. Bedad, they say it's as purty a crathur
+as you'd see in a day's thravellin'."
+
+"Harry Connolly! Why, I know Harry, but I never heard of Biddy Duiguan,
+or her father at all. Harry Connolly! Is it a man that's bent over his
+staff for the last twenty years! Hut, tut, Phelim, don't say sich a
+thing."
+
+"Why, ma'am, sure he takes wid it himself; he doesn't deny it at all,
+the ould sinner."
+
+"Oh, that I mayn't sin, Phelim, if one knows who to thrust in this
+world, so they don't. Why the desateful ould--hut, Phelim, I can't give
+into it."
+
+"Faix, ma'am, no wondher; but sure when he confesses it himself! Bedad,
+Mrs. Doran, I never seen you look so well. Upon my sowl, you'd take the
+shine out o' the youngest o' thim!"
+
+"Is it me, Phelim? Why, you're beside yourself."
+
+"Beside myself, am I? Faith, an' if I am, what I said's thruth, anyhow.
+I'd give more nor I'll name, to have so red a pair of cheeks as you
+have. Sowl, they're thumpers."
+
+"Ha, ha, ha! Oh, that I mayn't sin, but that's a good joke! An ould
+woman near sixty!"
+
+"Now, Mrs. Doran, that's nonsense, an' nothing else. Near sixty! Oh, by
+my purty, that's runnin' away wid the story entirely--No, nor thirty.
+Faith, I know them that's not more nor five or six-an'-twenty, that 'ud
+be glad to borry the loan of your face for a while. Divil a word o' lie
+in that."
+
+"No, no, Phelim, aroon, I seen the day; but that's past. I remimber when
+the people did say I was worth lookin' at. Won't you sit near the fire?
+You're in the dhraft there."
+
+"Thank you kindly, ma'am; faith, you have the name, far an' near, for
+bein' the civilest woman alive this day. But, upon my sowl, if you wor
+ten times as civil, an' say that you're not aquil to any young girl in
+the parish, I'd dispute it wid you; an' say it was nothin' else than a
+bounce."
+
+"Arrah, Phelim, darlin, how can you palaver me that way? I hope your
+dacent father's well, Phelim, an' your honest mother."
+
+"Divil a fear o' them. Now, I'd hould nine to one that the purtiest o'
+them hasn't a sweeter mout' than you have. By dad, you have a pair o'
+lips, God bless them that--well, well--"
+
+Phelim here ogled her with looks particularly wistful.
+
+"Phelim, you're losin' the little sense you had."
+
+"Faix, an' it's you that's taken them out o' me, then. A purty woman
+always makes a fool o' me. Divil a word o' lie in it. Faix, Mrs. Doran,
+ma'am, you have a chin o' your own! Well, well! Oh, be Gorra, I wish I
+hadn't come out this mornin' any how!"
+
+"Arrah, why, Phelim? In throth, it's you that's the quare Phelim!"
+
+"Why, ma'am--Oh bedad it's a folly to talk. I can't go widout tastin'
+them. Sich a pair o' timptations as your lips, barrin' your eyes, I
+didn't see this many a day."
+
+"Tastin' what, you mad crathur?"
+
+"Why, I'll show you what I'd like to be afther tastin'. Oh! bedad, I'll
+have no refusin'; a purty woman always makes a foo----"
+
+"Keep away, Phelim; keep off; bad end to you; what do you mane? Don't
+you see Fool Art lyin' in the corner there undher the sacks? I don't
+think he's asleep."
+
+"Fool Art! why, the misfortunate idiot, what about him? Sure he hasn't
+sinse to know the right hand from the left. Bedad, ma'am the truth is,
+that a purty woman always makes a----"
+
+"Throth an' you won't," said she struggling.
+
+"Throth an' I will, thin, taste the same lips, or we'll see whose
+strongest!"
+
+A good-humored struggle took place between the housekeeper and Phelim,
+who found her, in point of personal strength, very near a match for him.
+She laughed heartily, but Phelim attempted to salute her with a face
+of mock gravity as nearly resembling that of a serious man as he could
+assume. In the meantime, chairs were overturned, and wooden dishes
+trundled about; a crash was heard here, and another there. Phelim drove
+her to the hob, and from the hob they both bounced into the fire, the
+embers and ashes of which were kicked up into a cloud about them.
+
+"Phelim, spare your strinth," said the funny housekeeper, "it won't do.
+Be asy now, or I'll get angry. The priest, too, will hear the noise, and
+so will Fool Art."
+
+"To the divil wid Fool Art an' the priest, too," said Phelim, "who cares
+abuckey about the priest when a purty woman like you is consarn--
+
+"What's this?" said the priest, stepping down from the parlor--"What's
+the matter? Oh, ho, upon my word, Mrs. Doran! Very good, indeed! Under
+my own roof, too! An' pray, ma'am, who is the gallant? Turn round young
+man. Yes, I see! Why, better and better! Bouncing Phelim O'Toole, that
+never spoke truth! I think, Mr. O'Toole, that when you come a courting,
+you ought to consider it worth your while to appear somewhat more smooth
+in your habiliments. I simply venture to give that as my opinion."
+
+"Why sure enough," replied Phelim, without a moment's hesitation; "your
+Reverence has found us out."
+
+"Found you out! Why, is that the tone you speak in?"
+
+"Faith, sir, thruth's best. I wanted her to tell it to you long ago, but
+she wouldn't. Howsomever, it's still time enough.--Hem! The thruth, sir,
+is, that Mrs. Doran an' I is goin' to get the words said as soon as we
+can; so, sir, wid the help o' Goodness, I came to see if your Reverence
+'ud call us next Sunday wid a blessin'."
+
+Mrs. Doran had, for at least a dozen round years before this, been in
+a state-of hopelessness upon the subject of matrimony; nothing in the
+shape of a proposal having in the course of that period come in her way.
+Now we have Addison's authority for affirming, that an old woman who
+permits the thoughts of love to get into her head, becomes a very odd
+kind of animal. Mrs. Doran, to do her justice, had not thought of it for
+nearly three lustres, for this reason, that she had so far overcome her
+vanity as to deem it possible that a proposal could be ever made to her.
+It is difficult, however, to know what a day may bring forth. Here
+was an offer, dropping like a ripe plum into her mouth. She turned
+the matter over in her mind with a quickness equal to that of Phelim
+himself. One leading thought struck her forcibly: if she refused to
+close with this offer, she would never get another.
+
+"Is it come to this, Mrs. Doran?" inquired the priest.
+
+"Oh, bedad, sir, she knows it is," replied Phelim, giving her a wink
+with the safe eye.
+
+Now, Mrs. Doran began to have her suspicions. The wink she considered
+as decidedly ominous. Phelim, she concluded with all the sagacity of a
+woman thinking upon that subject, had winked at her to assent only for
+the purpose of getting themselves out of the scrape for the present. She
+feared that Phelim would be apt to break off the match, and take some
+opportunity, before Sunday should arrive, of preventing the priest from
+calling them. Her decision, however, was soon made. She resolved, if
+possible to pin down Phelim to his own proposal.
+
+"Is this true, Mrs. Doran?" inquired the priest, a second time.
+
+Mrs. Doran could not, with any regard to the delicacy of her sex, give
+an assent without proper emotion. She accordingly applied her apron to
+her eyes, and shed a few natural tears in reply to the affecting query
+of the pastor.
+
+Phelim, in the meantime, began to feel mystified. Whether Mrs. Doran's
+tears were a proof that she was disposed to take the matter seriously,
+or whether they were tears of shame and vexation for having been caught
+in the character of a romping old hoyden, he could not then exactly
+decide. He had, however, awful misgivings upon the subject.
+
+"Then," said the priest, "it is to be understood that I'm to call you
+both on Sunday."
+
+"There's no use in keepin' it back from you," replied Mrs. Doran. "I
+know it's foolish of me; but we have all our failins, and to be fond
+of Phelim there, is mine. Your Reverence is to call us next Sunday, as
+Phelim tould you. I am sure I can't tell you how he deluded me at all,
+the desaver o' the world!"
+
+Phelim's face during this acknowledgment was, like Goldsmith's Haunch
+of Venison, "a subject for painters to study." His eyes projected like a
+hare's until nothing could be seen but the balls. Even the drooping lid
+raised itself up, as if it were never to droop again.
+
+"Well," said the priest, "I shall certainly not use a single argument to
+prevent you. Your choice, I must say, does you credit, particularly when
+it is remembered that you have come at least to years of discretion.
+Indeed, many persons might affirm that you have gone beyond them; but I
+say nothing. In the meantime your wishes must be complied with. I will
+certainly call Phelim O'Toole and Bridget Doran on Sunday next; and one
+thing I know, that we shall have a very merry congregation."
+
+Phelim's eyes turned upon the priest and the old woman alternately,
+with an air of bewilderment which, had the priest been a man of much
+observation, might have attracted his attention.
+
+"Oh murdher alive, Mrs. Doran," said Phelim, "how am I to do for clo'es?
+Faith, I'd like to appear dacent in the thing, anyhow."
+
+"True," said the priest. "Have you made no provision for smoothing the
+externals of your admirer? Is he to appear in this trim?"
+
+"Bedad, sir," said Phelim, "we never thought o' that. All the world
+knows, your Reverence, that I might carry my purse in my eye, an' never
+feel a mote in it. But the thruth is, sir, she was so lively on the
+subject--in a kind of a pleasant, coaxin' hurry of her own--an' indeed
+I was so myself, too. Augh, Mrs. Doran! Be gorra, sir, she put her
+comedher an me entirely, so she did. Well, be my sowl, I'll be the
+flower of a husband to her anyhow. I hope your Reverence 'll come to the
+christ'nin'? But about the clo'es;--bad luck saize the tack I have
+to put to my back, but what you see an me, if we wor to be married
+to-morrow."
+
+"Well, Phelim, aroon," said Mrs. Doran, "his Reverence here has my
+little pences o' money in his hands, an' the best way is for you to get
+the price of a suit from him. You must get clo'es, an' good ones, too,
+Phelim, sooner nor any stop should be put to our marriage."
+
+"Augh, Mrs. Doran," said Phelim, ogling her from the safe eye, with a
+tender suavity of manner that did honor to his heart; "be gorra, ma'am,
+you've played the puck entirely wid me. Faith, I'm gettin' fonder an'
+fonder of her every minute, your Reverence."
+
+He set his eye, as he uttered this, so sweetly and significantly upon
+the old house-keeper, that the priest thought it a transgression of
+decorum in his presence.
+
+"I think," said he, "you had better keep your melting looks to yourself,
+Phelim. Restrain your gallantry, if you please, at least until I
+withdraw."
+
+"Why, blood alive! sir, when people's fond of one another, it's hard to
+keep the love down. Augh, Mrs. Doran! Faith, you've rendhored my heart
+like a lump o' tallow."
+
+"Follow me to the parlor," said the priest, "and let me know, Bridget,
+what sum I am to give to this melting gallant of yours."
+
+"I may as well get what'll do the weddin' at wanst," observed Phelim.
+"It'll save throuble, in the first place; an' sackinly, it'll save time;
+for, plase Goodness, I'll have everything ready for houldin' the weddin'
+the Monday afther the last call. By the hole o' my coat, the minute I
+get the clo'es we'll be spliced, an' thin for the honeymoon!"
+
+"How much money shall I give him?" said the priest.
+
+"Indeed, sir, I think you ought to know that; I'm ignorant o' what 'ud
+make a dacent weddin'. We don't intend to get married undher a hedge;
+we've frinds an both sides, an' of course, we must have them about us,
+plase Goodness."
+
+"Be gorra, sir, it's no wondher I'm fond of her, the darlin'? Bad win to
+you, Mrs. Doran, how did you come over me at all?"
+
+"Bridget," said the priest, "I have asked you a simple question,
+to which I expect a plain answer. What money am I to give this
+tallow-hearted swain of yours?"
+
+"Why, your Reverence, whatsomever you think may be enough for full, an'
+plinty, an' dacency, at the weddin'."
+
+"Not forgetting the thatch for me, in the mane time," said Phelim.
+"Nothin' less will sarve us, plase your Reverence. Maybe, sir, you'd
+think 'of comin' to the weddin' yourself?"
+
+"There are in my hands," observed the priest, "one hundred and
+twenty-two guineas of your money, Bridget. Here, Phelim, are ten for
+your wedding suit and wedding expenses. Go to your wedding! No!
+don't suppose for a moment that I countenance this transaction in the
+slightest degree. I comply with your wishes, because I heartily
+despise you both; but certainly this foolish old woman most. Give me an
+acknowledgment for this, Phelim."
+
+"God bless you, sir!" said Phelim, as if he had paid them a compliment.
+"In regard o' the acknowledgment, sir, I acknowledge it wid all my
+heart; but bad luck to the scrape at all I can write."
+
+"Well, no matter. You admit, Bridget, that I give this money to this
+blessed youth by your authority and consent."
+
+"Surely, your Reverence; I'll never go back of it."
+
+"Now, Phelim," said the priest, "you have the money; pray get married as
+soon as possible."
+
+"I'll give you my oath," said Phelim; "an' be the blessed iron tongs in
+the grate there, I'll not lose a day in gettin' myself spliced. Isn't
+she the tendher-hearted sowl, your Reverence? Augh, Mrs. Doran!"
+
+"Leave my place," said the priest. "I cannot forget the old proverb,
+that one fool makes many, but an old fool is worse than any. So it is
+with this old woman."
+
+"Ould woman! Oh, thin, I'm sure I don't desarve this from your
+Reverence!" exclaimed the housekeeper, wiping her eyes: "if I'm a little
+seasoned now, you know I wasn't always so. If ever there was a faithful
+sarvant, I was that, an' managed your house and place as honestly as
+I'll manage my own, plase Goodness."
+
+As they left the parlor, Phelim became the consoler.
+
+"Whisht, you darlin'!" he exclaimed. "Sure you'll have Bouncin' Phelim
+to comfort you. But now that he has shut the door, what--hem--I'd
+take it as a piece o' civility if you'd open my eyes a little; I
+mane--hem--was it--is this doin' him, or how? Are you--hem--do you
+undherstand me, Mrs. Doran?"
+
+"What is it you want to know, Phelim? I think everything is very plain."
+
+"Oh, the divil a plainer, I suppose. But in the mane time, might one
+axe, out o' mere curiosity, if you're in airnest?"
+
+"In airnest! Arrah, what did I give you my money for, Phelim? Well, now
+that everything is settled, God forgive you if you make a bad husband to
+me."
+
+"A bad what?"
+
+"I say, God forgive you if you make a bad husband to me. I'm afeard,
+Phelim, that I'll be too foolish about you--that I'll be too fond of
+you."
+
+Phelim looked at her in solemn silence, and then replied--"Let us trust
+in God that you may be enabled to overcome the weakness. Pray to Him
+to avoid all folly, an' above everything, to give you a dacent stock of
+discration, for it's a mighty fine thing for a woman of your yea--hem--a
+mighty fine thing it is, indeed, for a sasoned woman, as you say you
+are."
+
+"When will the weddin' take place, Phelim?"
+
+"The what?" said Phelim, opening his brisk eye with a fresh stare of
+dismay.
+
+"Why, the weddin', acushla. When will it take place? I think the Monday
+afther the last call 'ud be the best time. We wouldn't lose a day thin.
+Throth, I long to hear my last call over, Phelim, jewel."
+
+Phelim gave her another look.
+
+"The last call! Thin, by the vestment, you don't long half as much for
+your last call as I do."
+
+"Arrah, Phoilim, did you take the--the--what you wor wantin' awhile
+agone? Throth, myself disremimbers."
+
+"Ay, around dozen o' them. How can you forget it?"
+
+The idiot in the corner here gave a loud snore, but composed himself to
+sleep, as if insensible to all that passed.
+
+"Throth, an' I do forget it. Now, Phelim, you'll not go till you take a
+cup o' tay wid myself. Throth, I do forget it, Phelim darlin', jewel."
+
+Phelim's face now assumed a very queer expression. He twisted his
+features into all possible directions; brought his mouth first round to
+one ear and then to the other; put his hand, as if in great pain, on the
+pit of his stomach; lifted one knee up till it almost touched his
+chin, then let it down, and instantly brought up the other in a similar
+manner.
+
+"Phelim, darlin', what ails you?" inquired the tender old nymph.
+"Wurrah, man alive, aren't you well?"
+
+"Oh, be the vestment," said Phelim, "what's this at all? Murdher,
+sheery, what'll I do! Oh, I'm very bad! At death's door, so I am! Be
+gorra, Mrs. Doran, I must be off."
+
+"Wurrah, Phelim dear, won't you stop till we settle everything?"
+
+"Oh, purshuin' to the ha'p'orth I can settle till I recover o' this
+murdherin' colic! All's asthray wid me in the inside. I'll see you--I'll
+see you--_Hanim an dioul!_ what's this?--I must be off like a shot--oh,
+murdher sheery?--but--but--I'll see you to-morrow. In the mane time,
+I'm--I'm--for ever oblaged to you for--for--lendin' me the--loan of--oh,
+by the vestments, I'm a gone man!--for lendin' me the loan of the ten
+guineas--Oh, I'm gone!"
+
+Phelim disappeared on uttering these words, and his strides on passing
+out of the house were certainly more rapid and vigorous than those of
+a man laboring under pain. In fact, he never looked behind him until
+one-half the distance between the priest's house and his father's cabin
+had been fairly traversed.
+
+Some misgivings occurred to the old housekeeper, but her vanity, having
+been revived by Phelim's blarney, would not permit her to listen
+to them. She had, besides, other motive to fortify her faith in his
+attachment. First, there was her money, a much larger sum than ever
+Phelim could expect with any other woman, young or old; again, they were
+to be called on the following Sunday, and she knew that when a marriage
+affair proceeds so far, obstruction or disappointment is not to be
+apprehended.
+
+When Phelim reached home, he found the father returned after having
+borrowed a full suit of clothes for him. Sam Appleton on hearing from
+Larry that Bouncing Phelim was about to get a "Great Match,"* generously
+lent him coat, waistcoat, hat, and small-clothes.
+
+     * When a country girl is said to have a large fortune,
+     the peasantry, when speaking of her in reference to
+     matrimony, say she's a "Great Match."
+
+When Phelim presented himself at home, he scarcely replied to the
+queries put to him by his father and mother concerning his interview
+with the priest. He sat down, rubbed his hands, scratched his head, rose
+up, and walked to and fro, in a mood of mind so evidently between mirth
+and chagrin, that his worthy parents knew not whether to be merry or
+miserable.
+
+"Phelim," said the mother, "did you take anything while you wor away?"
+
+"Did I take anything! is it? Arrah, be asy, ould woman! Did I take
+anything! Faith you may say that!"
+
+"Let us know, anyhow, what's the matther wid you?' asked the father.
+
+"Tare-an'-ounze!" exclaimed the son, "what is this for, at all at all?
+It's too killin' I am, so it is."
+
+"You're not lookin' at Sam Appleton's clo'es," said the father, "that he
+lent you the loan of, hat an' all?"
+
+"Do you want to put an affront upon me, ould man? To the divil wid
+himself an' his clo'es! When I wants clo'es I'll buy them wid my own
+money!'
+
+"Larry," observed the mother, "there's yourself all over--as proud as
+a payoock when the sup's in your head, an' 'ud spake as big widout the
+sign o' money in your pocket, as if you had the rint of an estate."
+
+"What do you say about the sign o' money?" exclaimed Phelim, with a
+swagger. "Maybe you'll call that the sign o' money!" he added, producing
+the ten guineas in gold. The father and mother looked at it for a
+considerable time, then at each other, and shook their heads.
+
+"Phelim!" said the father, solemnly. "Phelim!" said the mother, awfully;
+and both shook their heads again.
+
+"You wor never over-scrupulous," the father proceeded, "an' you know
+you have many little things to answer for, in the way of pickin' up what
+didn't belong to yourself. I think, too, you're not the same boy you wor
+afore you tuck to swearin' the alibies.
+
+"Faith, an' I doubt I'll haye to get some one to swear an alibi for
+myself soon," Phelim replied.
+
+"Why, blessed hour!" said Larry, "didn't I often tell you never to join
+the boys in anything that might turn out a hangin' matther?"
+
+"If this is not a hangin' matther," said Phelim, "it's something nearly
+as bad: it's a marryin' matther. Sure I deluded another since you seen
+me last. Divil a word o' lie in it. I was clane fell in love wid this
+mornin' about seven o'clock."
+
+"But how did you get the money, Phelim?"
+
+"Why, from the youthful sprig that fell in love wid me. Sure we're to be
+'called' in the Chapel on Sunday next."
+
+"Why thin now, Phelim! An' who is the young crathur? for in throth she
+must be young to go to give the money beforehand!"
+
+"Murdher!" exclaimed Phelim, "what's this for! Was ever any one done
+as I am? Who is she! Why she's--oh, murdher, oh!--she's no other
+than--hem--divil a one else than Father O'Hara's housekeeper, ould Biddy
+Doran!"
+
+The mirth of the old couple was excessive. The father laughed till he
+fell off his stool, and the mother till the tears ran down her cheeks.
+
+"Death alive; ould man! but you're very merry," said Phelim. "If you wor
+my age, an' in such an' amplush, you'd laugh on the wrong side o' your
+mouth. Maybe you'll tarn your tune when you hear that she has a hundhre
+and twenty guineas."
+
+"An' you'll be rich, too," said the father. "The sprig an' you will be
+rich!--ha, ha, ha!"
+
+"An' the family they'll have!" said the mother, in convulsions.
+
+"Why, in regard o' that," said Phelim, rather nettled, "if all fails us,
+sure we can do as my father and you did: kiss the Lucky Stone, an' make
+a Station."
+
+"Phelim, aroon," said the mother, seriously, "put it out o' your head.
+Sure you wouldn't go to bring me a daughter-in-law oulder nor myself?"
+
+"I'd as soon go over," (* be transported) said Phelim; "or swing itself,
+before I'd marry sich a piece o' desate. Hard feelin' to her! how she
+did me to my face!"
+
+Phelim then entered into a long-visaged detail of the scene at
+Father O'Hara's, dwelling bitterly on the alacrity with which the old
+housekeeper ensnared him in his own mesh.
+
+"However," he concluded, "she'd be a sharp one if she'd do me
+altogether. We're not married yet; an' I've a consate of my own, that
+she's done for the ten guineas, any how!"
+
+A family council was immediately held upon Phelim's matrimonial
+prospects. On coming close to the speculation of Miss Patterson, it
+was somehow voted, notwithstanding Phelim's powers of attraction, to be
+rather a discouraging one. Gracey Dalton was also given up. The matter
+was now serious, the time short, and Phelim's bounces touching his own
+fascinations with the sex in general, were considerably abated. It was
+therefore resolved that he ought to avail himself of Sam Appleton's
+clothes, until his own could be made. Sam, he said, would not press him
+for them immediately, inasmuch as he was under obligations to Phelim's
+silence upon some midnight excursions that he had made.
+
+"Not," added Phelim, "but I'm as much, an' maybe more in his power, than
+he is in mine."
+
+When breakfast was over, Phelim and the father, after having determined
+to "drink a bottle" that night in the family of an humble young woman,
+named Donovan, who, they all agreed, would make an excellent wife for
+him, rested upon their oars until evening. In the meantime, Phelim
+sauntered about the village, as he was in the habit of doing, whilst the
+father kept the day as a holiday. We have never told our readers that
+Phelim was in love, because in fact we know not whether he was or not.
+Be this as it may, we simply inform them, that in a little shed in
+the lower end of the village, lived a person with whom Phelim was very
+intimate, called Foodie Flattery. He was, indeed, a man after Phelim's
+own heart, and Phelim was a boy after his. He maintained himself by
+riding country races; by handing, breeding, and feeding cocks; by
+fishing, poaching, and serving processes; and finally, by his knowledge
+as a cow-doctor and farrier--into the two last of which he had given
+Phelim some insight. We say the two last, for in most of the other
+accomplishments Phelim was fully his equal. Phelim frequently envied him
+his life. It was an idle, amusing, vagabond kind of existence, just
+such a one as he felt a relish for. This man had a daughter, rather
+well-looking; and it so happened, that he and Phelim had frequently
+spent whole nights out together, no one knew on what employment. Into
+Flattery's house did Phelim saunter with something like an inclination
+to lay the events of the day before him, and to ask his advice upon his
+future prospects. On entering the cabin he was much surprised to find
+the daughter in a very melancholy mood; a circumstance which puzzled
+him not a little, as he knew that they lived very harmoniously together.
+Sally had been very useful to her father; and, if fame did not belie
+her, was sometimes worthy Foodie's assistant in his nocturnal exploits.
+She was certainly reputed to be "light-handed;" an imputation which
+caused the young men of her acquaintance to avoid, in their casual
+conversations with her, any allusion to matrimony.
+
+"Sally, achora," said Phelim, when he saw her in distress, "what's the
+fun? Where's your father?"
+
+"Oh, Phelim," she replied, bursting into tears, "long runs the fox, but
+he's cotch at last. My father's in gaol."
+
+Phelim's jaw dropped. "In gaol! _Chorp an diouol_, no!"
+
+"It's thruth, Phelim. Curse upon this Whiteboy business, I wish it never
+had come into the counthry at all."
+
+"Sally, I must see him; you know I must. But tell me how it happened?
+Was it at home he was taken?"
+
+"No; he was taken this mornin' in the market. I was wid him sellin' some
+chickens. What'll you and Sam Appleton do, Phelim?"
+
+"Uz! Why, what danger is there to either Sim or me, you darlin'?"
+
+"I'm sure, Phelim, I don't know; but he tould me, that if I was provided
+for, he'd be firm, an' take chance of his thrial. But, he says, poor
+man, that it 'ud break his heart to be thransported, lavin' me behind
+him wid' nobody to take care o' me.--He says, too, if anything 'ud make
+him stag, it's fear of the thrial goin' against himself; for, as he said
+to me, what 'ud become of you, Sally, if anything happened me?"
+
+A fresh flood of tears followed this disclosure, and Phelim's face,
+which was certainly destined to undergo on that day many variations of
+aspect, became remarkably blank.
+
+"Sally, you insinivator, I'll hould a thousand guineas you'd never guess
+what brought me here to-day?"
+
+"Arrah, how could I, Phelim? To plan some thin' wid my fadher, maybe."
+
+"No, but to plan somethin' wid yourself, you coaxin' jewel you. Now
+tell me this--Would you marry a certain gay, roguish, well-built young
+fellow, they call Bouncin' Phelim?"
+
+"Phelim, don't be gettin' an wid your fun now, an' me in affliction.
+Sure, I know well you wouldn't throw yourself away upon a poor girl like
+me, that has nothin' but a good pair of hands to live by."
+
+"Be me sowl, an' you live by them. Well, but set in
+case--supposin'--that same Bouncin' Phelim was willing to make you
+mistress of the Half Acre, what 'ud you be sayin'?"
+
+"Phelim, if a body thought you worn't jokin' them--ah, the dickens go
+wid you, Phelim--this is more o' your thricks--but if it was thruth you
+wor spakin', Phelim?"
+
+"It is thruth," said Phelim; "be the vestment, it's nothin' else. Now,
+say yes or no; for if it's a thing that it's to be a match, you must go
+an' tell him that I'll marry you, an' he must be as firm as a rock. But
+see, Sally, by thim five crasses it's not bekase your father's in I'm
+marryin' you at all. Sure I'm in love wid you, acushla! Divil a lie in
+it. Now, yes or no?"
+
+"Well--throth--to be sure--the sorra one, Phelim, but you have quare
+ways wid you. Now are you downright in airnest?"
+
+"Be the stool I'm sittin' on!"
+
+"Well, in the name o' Goodness, I'll go to my father, an' let him know
+it. Poor man, it'll take the fear out of his heart. Now can he depind on
+you, Phelim?"
+
+"Why, all I can say is, that we'll get ourselves called on Sunday next.
+Let himself, sure, send some one to autorise the priest to call us.
+An' now that's all settled, don't I desarve somethin'? Oh, be gorra,
+surely."
+
+"Behave, Phelim--oh--oh--Phelim, now--there you've tuck it--och, the
+curse o' the crows on you, see the way you have my hair down! There now,
+you broke my comb, too. Troth, you're a wild slip, Phelim. I hope you
+won't be goin' on this way wid the girls, when you get married."
+
+"Is it me you coaxer? No, faith, I'll wear a pair of winkers, for fraid
+o' lookin' at them at all! Oh be gorra, no, bally, I'll lave that to the
+great people. Sure, they say, the divil a differ they make at all."
+
+"Go off now, Phelim, till I get ready, an' set out to my father. But,
+Phelim, never breathe a word about him bein' in goal. No one knows it
+but ourselves--that is, none o' the neighbors."
+
+"I'll sing dumb," said Phelim. "Well, _binaght lath, a rogarah!_* Tell
+him the thruth--to be game, an' he'll find you an' me sweeled together
+whin he comes out, plase Goodness."
+
+     * My blessing be with you, you rogue!
+
+Phelim was but a few minutes gone, when the old military cap of Fool Art
+projected from the little bed-room, which a wicker wall, plastered with
+mud, divided from the other part of the cabin.
+
+"Is he gone?" said Art.
+
+"You may come out, Art," said she, "he's gone."
+
+"Ha!" said Art, triumphantly, "I often tould him, when he vexed me an'
+pelted me wid snow-balls, that I'd come along sides wid him yet. An'
+it's not over aither. Fool Art can snore when he's not asleep, an' see
+wid his eyes shut. Wherroo for Art!"
+
+"But, Art, maybe he intinds to marry the housekeeper afther all?"
+
+     "Hi the colic, the colic!
+     An' ho the colic for Phelim!"
+
+"Then you think he won't, Art?"
+
+     "Hi the colic, the colic!
+     An' ho the colic for Phelim!"
+
+"Now, Art, don't say a word about my father not bein' in gaol. He's to
+be back from my grandfather's in a short time, an' if we manage well,
+you'll see what you'll get, Art--a brave new shirt, Art."
+
+"Art has the lane for Phelim, but it's not the long one wid no turn in
+it. Wherroo for Art!"
+
+Phelim, on his return home, felt queer; here was a second matrimonial
+predicament, considerably worse than the first, into which he was hooked
+decidedly against his will. The worst feature in this case was the
+danger to be apprehended from Foodie Flattery's disclosures, should
+he take it into his head to 'peach upon his brother Whiteboys. Indeed,
+Phelim began to consider it a calamity that he ever entered into their
+system at all; for, on running over his exploits along with them, he
+felt that he was liable to be taken up any morning of the week, and
+lodged in one of his majesty's boarding-houses. The only security he had
+was the honesty of his confederates; and experience took the liberty of
+pointing out to him many cases in which those who considered themselves
+quite secure, upon the same grounds, either dangled or crossed the
+water. He remembered, too, some prophecies that had been uttered
+concerning him with reference both to hanging and matrimony.
+Touching the former it was often said, that "he'd die where the bird
+flies"--between heaven and earth; on matrimony, that there seldom was a
+swaggerer among the girls but came to the ground at last.
+
+Now Phelim had a memory of his own, and in turning over his situation,
+and the prophecies that had been so confidently pronounced concerning
+him, he felt, as we said, rather queer. He found his father and mother
+in excellent spirits when he got home. The good man had got a gallon of
+whiskey on credit; for it had been agreed on not to break the ten golden
+guineas until they should have ascertained how the matchmaking would
+terminate that night at Donovan's.
+
+"Phelim," said the father, "strip yourself, an' put on Sam's clo'es: you
+must send him down yours for a day or two; he says it's the least he may
+have the wearin' o' them, so long as you have his."
+
+"Right enough," said Phelim; "Wid all my heart; I'm ready to make a fair
+swap wid him any day, for that matther."
+
+"I sent word to the Donovans that we're to go to coort there to night,"
+said Larry; "so that they'll be prepared for us; an' as it would be
+shabby not to have a friend, I asked Sam Appleton himself. He's to folly
+us."
+
+"I see," said Phelim, "I see. Well, the best boy in Europe Sam is, for
+such a spree. Now, Fadher, you must lie like the ould diouol tonight.
+Back everything I say, an' there's no fear of us. But about what she's
+to get, you must hould out for that. I'm to despise it, you know. I'll
+abuse you for spakin' about fortune, but don't budge an inch."
+
+"It's not the first time I've done that for you, Phelim; but in regard
+o' these ten guineas, why you must put them in your pocket for fraid
+they be wantin' to get off wid layin' down guinea for guinea. You see,
+they don't think we have a rap; an' if they propose it we'll be up to
+them."
+
+"Larry," observed Sheelah, "don't make a match except they give that pig
+they have. Hould out for that by all means."
+
+"Tare-an'-ounze!" exclaimed Phelim, "am I goin' to take the counthry out
+o' the face? By the vestments, I'm a purty boy! Do you know the fresh
+news I have for yez?"
+
+"Not ten guineas more, Phelim?" replied the father.
+
+"Maybe you soodhered another ould woman," said the mother.
+
+"Be asy," replied Phelim. "No, but the five crasses, I deluded a young
+one since! I went out!"
+
+The old couple were once more disposed to be mirthful; but Phelim
+confirmed his assertion with such a multiplicity of oaths, that they
+believed him. Nothing, however, could wring the secret of her name
+out of him. He had reasons for concealing it which he did not wish to
+divulge. In fact, he could never endure ridicule, and the name of Sally
+Flattery, as the person whom he had "deluded," would constitute, on his
+part, a triumph quite as sorry as that which he had achieved in
+Father O'Hara's. In Ireland no man ever thinks of marrying a female
+thief--which Sally was strongly suspected to be--except some worthy
+fellow, who happens to be gifted with the same propensity.
+
+When the proper hour arrived, honest Phelim, after having already made
+arrangements to be called on the following Sunday, as the intended
+husband of two females, now proceeded with great coolness to make,
+if possible, a similar engagement with a third. There is something,
+however, to be said for Phelim. His conquest over the housekeeper was
+considerably out of the common course of love affairs. He had drawn
+upon his invention, only to bring himself and the old woman out of the
+ridiculous predicament in which the priest found them. He had, moreover,
+intended to prevail on her to lend him the hat, in case the priest
+himself had refused him. He was consequently not prepared for the
+vigorous manner in which Mrs. Doran fastened upon the subject of
+matrimony. On suspecting that she was inclined to be serious, he
+pleaded his want of proper apparel; but here again the liberality of
+the housekeeper silenced him, whilst, at the same time, it opened an
+excellent prospect of procuring that which he most required--a decent
+suit of clothes. This induced him to act a part that he did not feel.
+He saw the old woman was resolved to outwit him, and he resolved to
+overreach the old woman.
+
+His marriage with Sally Flattery was to be merely a matter of chance. If
+he married her at all, he knew it must be in self-defence. He felt that
+her father had him in his power, and that he was anything but a man to
+be depended on. He also thought that his being called with her, on the
+Sunday following, would neutralize his call with the housekeeper; just
+as positive and negative quantities in algebra cancel each other. But he
+was quite ignorant that the story of Flattery's imprisonment was merely
+a plan of the daughter's to induce him to marry her.
+
+With respect to Peggy Donovan, he intended, should he succeed in
+extricating himself from the meshes which the other two had thrown
+around him, that she should be the elected one to whom he was anxious to
+unite himself. As to the confusion produced by being called to three at
+once, he knew that, however laughable in itself, it would be precisely
+something like what the parish would expect from him. Bouncing Phelim
+was no common man, and to be called to three on the same Sunday, would
+be a corroboration of his influence with the sex. It certainly chagrined
+him not a little that one of them was an old woman, and the other of
+indifferent morals; but still it exhibited the claim of three women
+upon one man, and that satisfied him. His mode of proceeding with Peggy
+Donovan was regular, and according to the usages of the country. The
+notice had been given that he and his father would go a courting, and of
+course they brought the whiskey with them, that being the custom among
+persons in their circumstances in life. These humble courtships very
+much resemble the driving of a bargain between two chapmen; for, indeed,
+the closeness of the demands on the one side, and the reluctance of
+concession on the other, are almost incredible. Many a time has a match
+been broken up by a refusal on the one part, to give a slip of a pig,
+or a pair of blankets, or a year-old calf. These are small matters
+in themselves, but they are of importance to those who, perhaps, have
+nothing else on earth with which to begin the world. The house to
+which Phelim and his father directed themselves was, like their own,
+of the-humblest description. The floor of it was about sixteen feet by
+twelve; its furniture rude and scanty. To the right of the fire was a
+bed, the four posts of which ran up to the low roof; it was curtained
+with straw mats, with the exception of an opening about a foot and a
+half wide on the side next the fire, through which those who slept in it
+passed. A little below the foot of the bed were ranged a few shelves of
+deal, supported by pins of wood driven into the wall. These constituted
+the dresser. In the lower end of the house stood a potato-bin, made up
+of stakes driven into the floor, and wrought with strong wicker-work.
+Tied to another stake beside this bin stood a cow, whose hinder part
+projected so close to the door, that those who entered the cabin were
+compelled to push her over out of their way. This, indeed, was effected
+without much difficulty, for the animal became so habituated to the
+necessity of moving aside, that it was only necessary to lay the hand
+upon her. Above the door in the inside, almost touching the roof, was
+the hen-roost, made also of wicker-work; and opposite the bed, on the
+other side of the fire, stood a meal-chest.
+
+Its lid on a level with the little pane of glass which served as a
+window. An old straw chair, a few stools, a couple of pots, some wooden
+vessels and crockery, completed the furniture of the house. The pig to
+which Sheolah alluded was not kept within the cabin, that filthy custom
+being now less common than formerly.
+
+This catalogue of cottage furniture may appear to our English readers
+very miserable. We beg them to believe, however, that if every cabin
+in Ireland were equally comfortable, the country would be comparatively
+happy. Still it is to be remembered, that the _dramatis personae_ of our
+story are of the humblest class.
+
+When seven o'clock drew nigh, the inmates of this little cabin placed
+themselves at a clear fire; the father at one side, the mother at the
+other, and the daughter directly between them, knitting, for this is
+usually the occupation of a female on such a night. Everything in the
+house was clean; the floor swept; the ashes removed from the hearth;
+the parents in their best clothes, and the daughter also in her holiday
+apparel. She was a plain girl, neither remarkable for beauty, nor
+otherwise. Her eyes, however, were good, so were her teeth, and an
+anxious look, produced of course by an occasion so interesting to
+a female, heightened her complexion to a blush that became her. The
+creature had certainly made the most of her little finery. Her face
+shone like that of a child after a fresh scrubbing with a strong towel;
+her hair, carefully curled with the hot blade of a knife, had been
+smoothed with soap until it became lustrous by repeated polishing, and
+her best red ribbon was tied tightly about it in a smart knot, that
+stood out on the side of her head with something of a coquettish air.
+Old Donovan and his wife maintained a conversation upon some indifferent
+subject, but the daughter evidently paid little attention to what they
+said. It being near the hour appointed for Phelim's arrival, she sat
+with an appearance of watchful trepidation, occasionally listening, and
+starting at every sound that she thought bore any resemblance to a man's
+voice or footstep.
+
+At length the approach of Phelim and his father was announced by a verse
+of a popular song, for singing which Phelim was famous;--
+
+     "A sailor coorted a farmer's daughter
+     That lived contagious to the Isle of Man,
+     A long time coortin', an' still discoorsin'
+     Of things consarnin' the ocean wide;
+     At linth he saize, 'My own dearest darlint,
+     Will you consint for to be my bride?'"
+
+"An' so she did consint, the darlin', but what the puck would she do
+else? God save the family! Paddy Donovan, how is your health? Molly,
+avourneen, I'm glad to hear that you're thrivin'. An' Peggy--eh? Ah, be
+gorra, fadher, here's somethin' to look at! Give us the hand of you, you
+bloomer! Och, och! faith you're the daisey!"
+
+"Phelim," said the father, "will you behave yourself? Haven't you the
+night before you for your capers? Paddy Donovan, I'm glad to see you!
+Molly, give us your right hand, for, in troth, I have a regard for you!
+Peggy, dear, how are you? But I'm sure, I needn't be axin when I look at
+you! In troth, Phelim, she is somethin' to throw your eye at."
+
+"Larry Toole, you're welcome," replied Donovan and his wife, "an' so
+is your son. Take stools both of you, an' draw near the hearth. Here,
+Phelim," said the latter, "draw in an' sit beside myself."
+
+"Thank you kindly, Molly," replied Phelim; "but I'll do no sich thing..
+Arrah, do you think, now, that I'd begin to gosther wid an ould woman,
+while I have the likes o' Peggy, the darlin', beside me? I'm up to a
+thrick worth nine of it. No, no; this chest 'll do. Sure you know, I
+must help the 'duck of diamonds' here to count her stitches."
+
+"Paddy," said Larry, in a friendly whisper, "put this whiskey past for
+a while, barrin' this bottle that we must taste for good luck. Sam
+Appleton's to come up afther us an', I suppose, some o' your own
+cleavens 'll be here afther a while."
+
+"Thrue for you," said Donovan. "Jemmy Burn and Antony Devlin is to come
+over presently. But, Larry, this is nonsense. One bottle o' whiskey was
+lashins; my Goodness, what'll we be doin' wid a whole gallon?"
+
+"Dacency or nothin', Paddy; if it was my last I'd show sperit, an' why
+not? Who'd be for the shabby thing?"
+
+"Well, well, Larry, I can't say but you're right afther all! Maybe I'd
+do the same thing myself, for all I'm spakin' aginst it."
+
+The old people then passed round an introductory glass, after which they
+chatted away for an hour or so, somewhat like the members of a committee
+who talk upon indifferent topics until their brethren are all assembled.
+
+Phelim, in the meantime, grappled with the daughter, whose knitting he
+spoiled by hooking the thread with his finger, jogging her elbow until
+he ran the needles past each other, and finally unravelling her clew;
+all which she bore with great good-humor. Sometimes, indeed, she
+ventured to give him a thwack upon the shoulder, with a laughing frown
+upon her countenance, in order to correct him for teasing her.
+
+When Jemmy Burn and Antony Devlin arrived, the spirits of the party got
+up. The whiskey was formally produced, but as yet the subject of the
+courtship, though perfectly understood, was not introduced. Phelim and
+the father were anxious to await the presence of Sam Appleton, who was
+considered, by the way, a first-rate hand at match-making.
+
+Phelim, as is the wont, on finding the din of the conversation raised
+to the proper pitch, stole one of the bottles and prevailed on Peggy to
+adjourn with him to the potato-bin. Here they ensconced themselves very
+snugly; but not, as might be supposed, contrary to the knowledge and
+consent of the seniors, who winked at each other on seeing Phelim
+gallantly tow her down with the bottle under his arm. It was only
+the common usage on such occasions, and not considered any violation
+whatsoever of decorum. When Phelim's prior engagements are considered,
+it must be admitted that there was something singularly ludicrous in
+the humorous look he gave over his shoulder at the company, as he went
+toward the bin, having the bottom of the whiskey-bottle projecting
+behind his elbow, winking at them in return, by way of a hint to mind
+their own business and allow him to plead for himself. The bin, however,
+turned out to be rather an uneasy seat, for as the potatoes lay in
+a slanting heap against the wall, Phelim and his sweetheart were
+perpetually sliding down from the top to the bottom. Phelim could be
+industrious when it suited his pleasure. In a few minutes those who sat
+about the fire imagined, from the noise at the bin, that the house was
+about to come about their ears.
+
+"Phelim, you thief," said the father, "what's all that noise for?"
+
+"_Chrosh orrin!_" (* The cross be about us!) said Molly Donovan, "is that
+tundher?"
+
+"Devil carry these piatees," exclaimed Phelim, raking them down with
+both hands and all his might, "if there's any sittin' at all upon them!
+I'm levellin' them to prevint Peggy, the darlin', from slidderin' an' to
+give us time to be talkin', somethin' lovin' to one another. The curse
+o' Cromwell an them! One might as well dhrink a glass o' whiskey wid his
+sweetheart, or spake a tinder word to her, on the wings of a windmill as
+here. There now, they're as level as you plase, acushla! Sit down,
+you jewel you, an' give me the egg-shell, till we have our Sup o' the
+crathur in comfort. Faith, it was too soon for us to be comin' down in
+the world?"
+
+Phelim and Peggy having each emptied the egg-shell, which among the
+poorer Irish is frequently the substitute for a glass, entered into
+the following sentimental dialogue, which was covered by the loud and
+entangled conversation of their friends about the fire; Phelim's arm
+lovingly about her neck, and his head laid down snugly against her
+cheek.
+
+"Now, Peggy, you darlin' o' the world--bad cess to me but I'm as glad as
+two ten-pennies that I levelled these piatees; there was no sittin' an
+them. Eh, avourneen?"
+
+"Why, we're comfortable now, anyhow, Phelim!"
+
+"Faith, you may say that--(a loving squeeze). Now, Peggy, begin an' tell
+us all about your bachelors."
+
+"The sarra one ever I had, Phelim."
+
+"Oh, murdher sheery, what a bounce! Bad cess to me, if you can spake
+a word o' thruth afther that, you common desaver! Worn't you an' Paddy
+Moran pullin' a coard?"
+
+"No, in throth; it was given out on us, but we never wor, Phelim.
+Nothin' ever passed betune us but common civility. He thrated my father
+an' mother wanst to share of half a pint in the Lammas Fair, when I was
+along wid them; but he never broke discoorse wid me barrin', as I sed,
+in civility an' friendship."
+
+"An' do you mane to put it down my throath that you never had a
+sweetheart at all?"
+
+"The nerra one."
+
+"Oh, you thief! Wid two sich lips o' your own, an' two sich eyes o' your
+own, an' two sich cheeks o' your own! Oh,--, by the tarn, that won't
+pass."
+
+"Well, an' supposin' I had--behave Phelim--supposin' I had, where's the
+harm? Sure it's well known all the sweethearts, you had, an' have yet, I
+suppose."
+
+"Be gorra, an' that's thruth; an' the more the merrier, you jewel you,
+till, one get's married. I had enough of them, in my day, but you're the
+flower o' them all, that I'd like to spend my life wid"--(a squeeze.)
+
+"The sorra one word the men say a body can trust. I warrant you tould
+that story to every one o' them as well as to me. Stop Phelim--it's well
+known that what you say to the colleens is no gospel. You know what they
+christened you 'Bouncin' Phelim!"
+
+"Betune you an' me, Peggy, I'll tell you a sacret; I was the boy for
+deludin them. It's very well known the matches I might a got; but you
+see, you little shaver, it was waitin' for yourself I was."
+
+"For me! A purty story indeed I'm sure it was! Oh, afther that! Why,
+Phelim, how can you----Well, well, did any one ever hear the likes?"
+
+"Be the vestments, it's thruth. I had you in my eye these three years,
+but was waitin' till I'd get together as much money as ud' set us up in
+the world dacently. Give me that egg-shell agin. Talkin's dhruthy
+work. _Shudorth, a rogarah!_ (* This to you you rogue) an' a pleasant
+honeymoon to us!"
+
+"Wait till we're married first, Phelim; thin it'll be time enough to
+dhrink that."
+
+"Come, acushla, it's your turn now; taste the shell, an' you'll see how
+lovin' it'll make us. Mother's milk's a thrifle to it."
+
+"Well, if I take this, Phelim, I'll not touch another dhrop to-night.
+In the mane time here's whatever's best for us! Whoo! Oh, my! but that's
+strong! I dunna how the people can dhrink so much of it!"
+
+"Faith, nor me; except bekase they have a regard for it, an' that it's
+worth havin' a regard for, jist like yourself an' me. Upon my faix,
+Peggy, it bates all, the love an likin' I have for you, an' ever
+had these three years past. I tould you about the eyes, mavourneen,
+an'--an'--about the lips--"
+
+"Phelim--behave--I say--now stop wid you--well--well--but you're the
+tazin' Phelim!--Throth the girls may be glad when you're married,"
+exclaimed Peggy, adjusting her polished hair.
+
+"Bad cess to the bit, if ever I got so sweet a one in my life--the
+soft end of a honeycomb's a fool to it. One thing, Peggy, I can tell
+you--that I'll love you in great style. Whin we're marrid it's I that'll
+soodher you up. I won't let the wind blow on you. You must give up
+workin', too. All I'll ax you to do will be to nurse the childhre; an'
+that same will keep you busy enough, plase Goodness."
+
+"Upon my faix, Phelim, you're the very sarra, so you are. Will you be
+asy now? I'll engage when you're married, it'll soon be another story
+wid you. Maybe you'd care little about us thin!"
+
+"Be the vestments, I'm spakin' pure gospel, so I am. Sure you don't know
+that to be good husbands runs in our family. Every one of them was as
+sweet as thracle to their wives. Why, there's that ould cock, my fadher,
+an' if you'd see how he butthers up the ould woman to this day, it 'ud
+make your heart warm to any man o' the family."
+
+"Ould an' young was ever an' always the same to you, Phelim. Sure the
+ouldest woman in the parish, if she happened to be single, couldn't
+miss of your blarney. It's reported you're goin' to be marrid to an ould
+woman.'
+
+"He---hem--ahem! Bad luck to this cowld I have! it's stickin' in my
+throath entirely, so it is!--hem!--to a what?"
+
+"Why to an ould woman, wid a great deal of the hard goold!"
+
+Phelim put his hand instinctively to his waistcoat pocket, in which he
+carried the housekeeper's money.
+
+"Would you oblage one wid her name?"
+
+"You know ould Molly Kavanagh well enough, Phelim."
+
+Phelim put up an inward ejaculation of thanks.
+
+"To the sarra wid her, an' all sasoned women. God be praised that the
+night's line, anyhow! Hand me the shell, an' we'll take a _gauliogue_
+aich, an' afther that we'll begin an' talk over how lovin' an' fond o'
+one another we'll be."
+
+"You're takin' too much o' the whiskey, Phelim. Oh, for Goodness'
+sake!--oh--b--b--n--now be asy. Faix, I'll go to the fire, an' lave you
+altogether, so I will, if you don't give over slustherin' me, that way,
+an' stoppin' my breath."
+
+"Here's all happiness to our two selves, _acushla machree!_ Now thry
+another _gauliogue_, an' you'll see how deludin' it'll make you."
+
+"Not a sup, Phelim."
+
+"Arrah, nonsense! Be the vestment, it's as harmless as new milk from the
+cow. It'll only do you good, alanna. Come now, Peggy, don't be ondacent,
+an' it our first night's coortin'! Blood alive! don't make little o' my
+father's son on sich a night, an' us at business like this, anyhow!"
+
+"Phelim, by the crass, I won't take it; so that ends it. Do you want
+to make little o' me? It's not much you'd think o' me in your mind, if
+I'd dhrink it."
+
+"The shell's not half full."
+
+"I wouldn't brake my oath for all the whiskey in the kingdom; so don't
+ax me. It's neither right nor proper of you to force it an me."
+
+"Well, all I say is, that it's makin' little of one Phelim O'Toole, that
+hasn't a thought in his body but what's over head an' ears in love wid
+you. I must only dhrink it for you myself, thin. Here's all kinds o'
+good fortune to us! Now, Peggy,--sit closer to me acushla!--Now, Peggy,
+are you fond o' me at all? Tell thruth, now."
+
+"Fond o' you! Sure you know all the girls is fond of you. Aren't you the
+boy for deludin' them?--ha, ha, ha?"
+
+"Come, come, you shaver; that won't do. Be sarious. If you knew how my
+heart's warmin' to you this minute, you'd fall in love wid my shadow.
+Come, now, out wid it. Are you fond of a sartin boy not far from you,
+called Bouncin' Phelim?"
+
+"To be sure I am. Are you satisfied now? Phelim! I say,"--
+
+"Faith, it won't pass, avourneen. That's not the voice for it. Don't
+you hear me, how tendher I spake wid my mouth brathin' into your ear,
+_acushla machree?_ Now turn about, like a purty entisin' girl, as you
+are, an' put your sweet bill to my ear the same way, an' whisper what
+you know into it? That's a darlin'! Will you, achora?"
+
+"An' maybe all this time you're promised to another?"
+
+"Be the vestments, I'm not promised to one. Now! Saize the one!"
+
+"You'll say that, anyhow!"
+
+"Do you see my hands acrass? Be thim five crasses, I'm not promised to
+a girl livin', so I'm not, nor wouldn't, bekase I had you in my eye. Now
+will you tell me what I'm wantin' you? The grace o' Heaven light down
+an you, an' be a good, coaxin darlin' for wanst. Be this an' be that,
+if ever you heerd or seen sich doin's an' times as we'll have when we're
+marrid. Now the weeny whisper, a colleen dhas."
+
+"It's time enough yet to let you know my mind, Phelim. If you behave
+yourself an' be-----Why thin is it at the bottle agin you are? Now don't
+dhrink so much, Phelim, or it'll get into your head. I was sayin' that
+if you behave yourself, an' be a good boy, I may tell you somethin'
+soon."
+
+"Somethin' soon! Live horse, an' you'll get grass! Peggy, if that's the
+way wid you, the love's all on my side, I see clearly. Are you willin'
+to marry me, anyhow?"
+
+"I'm willin' to do whatsomever my father an' mother wishes."
+
+"I'm for havin' the weddin' off-hand; an' of coorse, if we agree
+to-night, I think our best plan is to have ourselves called on Sunday.
+An' I'll tell you what, avourneen--be the holy vestments, if I was to be
+'called' to fifty on the same Sunday, you're the darlin' I'd marry."
+
+"Phelim, it's time for us to go up to the fire; we're long enough here.
+I thought you had only three words to say to me."
+
+"Why, if you're tired o' me, Peggy, I don't want you to stop. I wouldn't
+force myself on the best girl that ever stepped."
+
+"Sure you have tould me all you want to say, an' there's no use in us
+stayin' here. You know, Phelim, there's not a girl in the Parish 'ud
+believe a word that 'ud come but o' your lips. Sure there's none o' them
+but you coorted one time or other. If you could get betther, Phelim, I
+dunna whether you'd be here to-night at all or not."
+
+"Answer me this, Peggy. What do you! think your father 'ud be willin' to
+give you? Not that I care a _cron abaun_ about it, for I'd marry you wid
+an inch of candle."
+
+"You know my father's but a poor man, Phelim, an' can give little or
+nothing. Them that won't marry me as I am, needn't come here to look for
+a fortune."
+
+"I know that, Peggy, an' be the same token, I want no fortune at all wid
+you but yourself, darlin'. In the mane time, to show you that I could
+get a fortune--_Dhera Lorha Heena_, I could have a wife wid a hundre an'
+twenty guineas!"
+
+Peggy received this intelligence much in the same manner as Larry and
+Sheelah had received it. Her mirth was absolutely boisterous for at
+least ten minutes. Indeed, so loud had it been, that Larry and her
+father could not help asking:--
+
+"Arrah, what's the fun, Peggy, achora?"
+
+"Oh, nothin'," she replied, "but one o' Phelim's bounces."
+
+"Now," said Phelim, "you won't believe me? Be all the books--"
+
+Peggy's mirth prevented his oaths from being heard. In vain he declared,
+protested, and swore. On this occasion, he was compelled to experience
+the fate peculiar to all liars. Even truth, from his lips, was looked
+upon as falsehood.
+
+Phelim, on finding that he could neither extort from Peggy an
+acknowledgment of love, nor make himself credible upon the subject
+of the large fortune, saw that he had nothing for it now, in order to
+produce an impression, but the pathetic.
+
+"Well," said he, "you may lave me, Peggy achora, if you like; but out o'
+this I'll not budge, wid a blessing, till I cry my skinful, so I won't.
+Saize the toe I'll move, now, till I'm sick wid cryin'! Oh, murdher
+alive, this night! Isn't it a poor case entirely, that the girl I'd
+suffer myself to be turned inside out for, won't say that she cares
+about a hair o' my head! Oh, thin, but I'm the misfortunate blackguard
+all out! Och, oh! Peggy, achora, you'll break my heart! Hand me that
+shell, acushla--for I'm in the height of affliction!"
+
+Peggy could neither withhold it, nor reply to him. Her mirth was even
+more intense now than before; nor, if all were known, was Phelim less
+affected with secret laughter than Peggy.
+
+"It is makin' fun o' me you are, you thief, eh?--Is it laughin' at my
+grief you are?" exclaimed Phelim. "Be the tarn' o' wor, I'll punish you
+for that."
+
+Peggy attempted to escape, but Phelim succeeded, ere she went, in taking
+a salutation or two, after which both joined those who sat at the fire,
+and in a few minutes Sam Appleton entered.
+
+Much serious conversation had already passed in reference to the
+courtship, which was finally entered into and debated, pro and con.
+
+"Now, Paddy Donovan, that we're altogether, let me tell you one thing:
+there's not a betther natur'd boy, nor a stouther, claner young fellow
+in the parish, than my Phelim. He'll make your daughther as good, a
+husband as ever broke bread!"
+
+"I'm not sayin' against that, Larry. He is a good-nathur'd boy: but I
+tell you, Larry Toole, that my daughter's his fill of a wife any day.
+An' I'll put this to the back o' that--she's a hard-workin' girl, that
+ates no idle bread."
+
+"Very right," said Sam Appleton. "Phelim's a hairo, an' she's a beauty.
+Dang me, but they wor made for one another. Phelim, _abouchal_, why
+don't you--oh, I see you are. Why, I was goin' to bid you make up to
+her."
+
+"Give no gosther, Sam," replied Phelim, "but sind round the bottle, an'
+don't forget to let it come this way. I hardly tasted a dhrop to-night."
+
+"Oh, Phelim!" exclaimed Peggy.
+
+"Whisht!" said Phelim, "there's no use in lettin' the ould fellows be
+committin' sin. Why, they're hearty (* Tipsy) as it is, the sinners."
+
+"Come, nabors," said Burn, "I'm the boy that's for close work. How does
+the match stand? You're both my friends, an' may this be poison to me,
+but I'll spake like an honest man, for the one as well as for the other.
+
+"Well, then," said Donovan, "how is Phelim to support my daughther,
+Larry? Sure that's a fair questin', any way."
+
+"Wiry, Paddy," replied Larry, "when Phelim gets her, he'll have a patch
+of his own, as well as another. There's that 'half-acre,' and a betther
+piece o' land isn't in Europe!"
+
+"Well, but what plenishin' are they to have, Larry? A bare half acre's
+but a poor look up."
+
+"I'd as soon you'd not make little of it, in the mane time," replied
+Larry, rather warmly. "As good a couple as ever they wor lived on that
+half acre; along wid what they earned by hard work otherwise."
+
+"I'm not disparagin' it, Larry; I'd be long sorry; but about the
+furniture? What are they to begin the world wid?"
+
+"Hut," said Devlin, "go to the sarra wid yez!--What 'ud they want, no
+more nor other young people like them, to begin the world wid? Are you
+goin' to make English or Scotch of them, that never marries till they're
+able to buy a farm an' stock it, the nagurs. By the staff in my hand, an
+Irish man 'ud lash a dozen o' them, wid all then prudence! Hasn't Phelim
+an' Peggy health and hands, what most new-married couples in Ireland
+begins the world wid? Sure they're not worse nor a thousand others?"
+
+"Success, Antony," said Phelim. "Here's your health for that!"
+
+"God be thanked they have health and hands," said Donovan. "Still,
+Antony, I'd like that they'd have somethin' more."
+
+"Well, then, Paddy, spake up for yourself," observed Larry. "What will
+you put to the fore for the colleen? Don't take both flesh an' bone!"
+
+"I'll not spake up, till I know all that Phelim's to expect," said
+Donovan. "I don't think he has a right to be axin' anything wid sich a
+girl as my Peggy."
+
+"Hut, tut, Paddy! She's a good colleen enough; but do you think she's
+above any one that carries the name of O'Toole upon him? Still, it's but
+raisonable for you to wish the girl well settled. My Phelim will have
+one half o' my worldly goods, at all evints."
+
+"Name them, Larry, if you plase."
+
+"Why, he'll have one o' the goats--the gray one, for she's the best o'
+the two, in throth. He'll have two stools; three hens, an' a toss-up
+for the cock. The biggest o' the two pots; two good crocks; three good
+wooden trenchers, an'--hem--he'll have his own--I say, Paddy, are
+you listenin' to me?--Phelim, do you hear what I'm givin' you, _a
+veehonee?--his own bed!_ An' there's all I can or will do for him. Now
+do you spake up for Peggy."
+
+"I'm to have my own bedstead too," said Phelim, "an' bad cess to the
+stouter one in Europe. It's as good this minute as it was eighteen years
+agone."
+
+"Paddy Donovan, spake up," said Larry.
+
+"Spake up!" said Paddy, contemptuously. "Is it for three crowns' worth
+I'd spake up? The bedstead, Phelim! _Bedhu husth_, (* hold your tongue)
+man!"
+
+"Put round the bottle," said Phelim, "we're dhry here."
+
+"Thrue enough, Phelim," said the father. "Paddy, here's towarst you
+an' yours--nabors--all your healths--young couple! Paddy, give us your
+hand, man alive! Sure, whether we agree or not, this won't put between
+us."
+
+"Throth, it won't, Larry--an' I'm thankful to you. Your health, Larry,
+an' all your healths! Phelim an' Peggy, success to yez, whether or not!
+An' now, in regard o' your civility, I will spake up. My proposal is
+this:--I'll put down guinea for guinea wid you."
+
+Now we must observe, by the way, that this was said under the firm
+conviction that neither Phelim nor the father had a guinea in their
+possession.
+
+"I'll do that same, Paddy," said Larry; "but I'll lave it to the present
+company, if you're not bound to put down the first guinea. Nabors, amn't
+I right?"
+
+"You are right, Larry," said Burn; "it's but fair that Paddy should put
+down the first."
+
+"Molly, achora," said Donovan to the wife, who, by the way, was engaged
+in preparing the little feast usual on such occasions--"Molly, achora,
+give me that ould glove you have in your pocket."
+
+She immediately handed him an old shammy glove, tied up into a hard
+knot, which he felt some difficulty in unloosing.
+
+"Come, Larry," said he, laying down a guinea-note, "cover that like a
+man."
+
+"Phelim carries my purse," observed the father; but he had scarcely
+spoken when the laughter of the company rang loudly through the
+house--The triumph of Donovan appeared to be complete, for he thought
+the father's alusion to Phelim tantamount to an evasion.
+
+"Phelim! Phelim carries it! Faix, an' I, doubt he finds it a light
+burdyeen."
+
+Phelim approached in all his glory.
+
+"What am I to do?" he inquired, with a swagger.
+
+"You're to cover that guinea-note wid a guinea, if you can," said
+Donovan.
+
+"Whether 'ud you prefar goold or notes," said Phelim, looking pompously
+about him; "that's the talk."
+
+This was received with another merry peal of laughter.
+
+"Oh, goold--goold by all manes!" replied Donovan.
+
+"Here goes the goold, my worthy," said Phelim, laying down his guinea
+with a firm slap upon the table.
+
+Old Donovan seized it, examined it, then sent it round, to satisfy
+himself that it was a _bona fide_ guinea.
+
+On finding that it was good, he became blank a little; his laugh lost
+its strength, much of his jollity was instantly neutralized, and his
+face got at least two inches longer. Larry now had the laugh against
+him, and the company heartily joined in it.
+
+"Come, Paddy," said Larry, "go an!--ha, ha, ha!"
+
+Paddy fished for half a minute through the glove; and, after what was
+apparently a hard chase, brought up another guinea, which he laid down.
+
+"Come, Phelim!" said he, and his eye brightened again with a hope that
+Phelim would fail.
+
+"Good agin!" said Phelim, thundering down another, which was instantly
+subjected to a similar scrutiny.
+
+"You'll find it good," said Larry. "I wish we had a sackful o' them. Go
+an, Paddy. Go an, man, who's afeard?"
+
+"Sowl, I'm done," said Donovan, throwing down the purse with a hearty
+laugh--"give me your hand, Larry. Be the goold afore us, I thought to do
+you. Sure these two guineas is for my rint, an' we mustn't let them come
+atween us at all."
+
+"Now," said Larry, "to let you see that my son's not widout something to
+begin the world wid--Phelim, shill out the rest o' the yallow boys."
+
+"Faix, you ought to dhrink the ould woman's health for this," said
+Phelim. "Poor ould crathur, many a long day she was savin' up these for
+me. It's my mother I'm speakin' about."
+
+"An' we will, too," said the father; "here's Sheelah's health,
+neighbors! The best poor man's wife that ever threwn a gown over her
+shouldhers."
+
+This was drank with all the honors, and the negotiation proceeded.
+
+"Now," said Appleton, "what's to be done? Paddy, say what you'll do for
+the girl."
+
+"Money's all talk," said Donovan; "I'll give the girl the two-year ould
+heifer--an' that's worth double what his father has promised Phelim;
+I'll give her a stone o' flax, a dacent suit o' clo'es, my blessin'--an'
+there's her fortune."
+
+"Has she neither bed nor beddin'?" inquired Larry.
+
+"Why, don't you say that Phelim's to have his own bed?" observed
+Donovan. "Sure one bed 'ill be plinty for them."
+
+"I don't care a damn about fortune," said Phelim, for the first time
+taking a part in the bargain--"so long as I get the darlin' herself. But
+I think there 'ud be no harm in havin' a spare pair o' blankets--an',
+for that matther, a bedstead, too--in case a friend came to see a body."
+
+"I don't much mind givin' you a brother to the bedstead you have,
+Phelim," replied Donovan, winking at the company, for he was perfectly
+aware of the nature of Phelim's bedstead.
+
+"I'll tell you what you must do," said Larry, "otherwise I'll not stand
+it. Give the colleen a chaff bed, blankets an' all other parts complate,
+along wid that slip of a pig. If you don't do this, Paddy Donovan, why
+we'll finish the whiskey an' part friends--but it's no match."
+
+"I'll never do it, Larry. The bed an' beddin' I'll give; but the pig
+I'll by no manner o' manes part wid."
+
+"Put round the bottle," said Phelim, "we're gettin' dhry agin--sayin'
+nothin' is dhroothy work. Ould man, will you not bother us about
+fortune!"
+
+"Come, Paddy Donnovan," wid Devlin, "dang it, let out a little,
+considher he has ten guineas; and I give it as my downright maxim an
+opinion, that he's fairly entitled to the pig."
+
+"You're welcome to give your opinion, Antony, an' I'm welcome not to
+care a rotten sthraw about it. My daughter's wife enough for him, widout
+a gown to her back, if he had his ten guineas doubled."
+
+"An' my son," said Larry, "is husband enough for a betther girl nor ever
+called you father--not makin' little, at the same time, of either you or
+her."
+
+"Paddy," said Burn, "there's no use in spakin' that way. I agree wid
+Antony, that you ought to throw in the 'slip.'"
+
+"Is it what I have to pay my next gale o' rint wid? No, no! If he won't
+marry her widout it, she'll get as good that will."
+
+"Saize the 'slip," said Phelim, "the darlin' herself here is all the
+slip I want."
+
+"But I'm not so," said Larry, "the 'slip' must go in, or it's a brake
+off. Phelim can get girls that has money enough to buy us all out o'
+root. Did you hear that, Paddy Donovan?"
+
+"I hear it," said Paddy, "but I'll b'lieve as much of it as I like."
+
+Phelim apprehended that as his father got warm with the liquor, he
+might, in vindicating the truth of his own assertion, divulge the affair
+of the old housekeeper.
+
+"Ould man," said he "have sinse, an' pass that over, if you have any
+regard for Phelim."
+
+"I'd not be brow-bate into anything," observed Donovan.
+
+"Sowl, you would not," said Phelim; "for my part, Paddy, I'm ready to
+marry your daughther (a squeeze to Peggy) widout a ha'p'orth at all,
+barrin' herself. It's the girl I want, an' not the slip."
+
+"Thin, be the book, you'll get both, Phelim, for your dacency," said
+Donovan; "but, you see I wouldn't be bullied into' puttin' one foot past
+the other, for the best man that ever stepped on black leather."
+
+"Whish!" said Appleton, "that's the go! Success ould heart! Give us your
+hand, Paddy,--here's your good health, an' may you never button an empty
+pocket!"
+
+"Is all settled?" inquired Molly.
+
+"All, but about the weddin' an' the calls," replied her husband. "How
+are we to do about that, Larry?"
+
+"Why, in the name o' Goodness, to save time," he replied, "let them be
+called on Sunday next, the two Sundays afther, an thin marrid, wid a
+blessin'."
+
+"I agree wid that entirely," observed Molly; "an' now Phelim, clear
+away, you an' Peggy, off o' that chist, till we have our bit o' supper
+in comfort."
+
+"Phelim," said Larry, "when the suppers done, you must slip over to
+Roche's for a couple o' bottles more o' whiskey. We'll make a night of
+it."
+
+"There's two bottles in the house," said Donovan; "an', be the
+saikerment, the first man that talks of bringin' in more, till these is
+dhrunk, is ondacent."
+
+This was decisive. In the meantime, the chest was turned into a table,
+the supper laid, and the attack commenced. All was pleasure, fun,
+and friendship. The reader may be assured that Phelim, during the
+negotiation, had not misspent the time with Peggy, Their conversation,
+however, was in a tone too low to be heard by those who were themselves
+talking loudly.
+
+One thing, however, Phelim understood from his friend Sam Appleton,
+which was, that some clue had been discovered to an outrage in which he
+(Appleton) had been concerned. Above all other subjects, that was one on
+which Phelim was but a poor comforter. He himself found circumspection
+necessary; and he told Appleton, that if ever danger approached him, he
+had resolved either to enlist, or go to America, if he could command the
+money.
+
+"You ought to do that immediately," added Phelim.
+
+"Where's the money?" replied the other. "I don't know," said Phelim;
+"but if I was bent on goin', the want of money wouldn't stop me as long
+as it could be found in the counthry. We had to do as bad for others,
+an' it can't be a greater sin to do that much for ourselves."
+
+"I'll think of it," said Appleton. "Any rate, it's in for a penny, in
+for a pound, wid me."
+
+When supper was over, they resumed their drinking, sang songs, and told
+anecdotes with great glee and hilarity. Phelim and Peggy danced jigs and
+reels, whilst Appleton sang for them, and the bottle also did its duty.
+
+On separating about two o'clock, there was not a sober man among them
+but Appleton. He declined drinking, and was backed in his abstemiousness
+by Phelim, who knew that sobriety on the part of Sam would leave himself
+more liquor. Phelim, therefore, drank for them both, and that to such
+excess, that Larry, by Appleton's advice, left him at his father's in
+consequence of his inability to proceed homewards. It was not, however,
+without serious trouble that Appleton could get Phelim and the father
+separated; and when he did, Larry's grief was bitter in the extreme. By
+much entreaty, joined to some vigorous shoves towards the door, he was
+prevailed upon to depart without him; but the old man compensated for
+the son's absence, by indulging in the most vociferous sorrow as he
+went along, about "Ma Phelim." When he reached home, his grief burst out
+afresh; he slapped the palms of his hands together, and indulged in a
+continuous howl, that one on hearing it would imagine to be the very
+echo of misery, When he had fatigued himself, he fell asleep on the bed,
+without having undressed, where he lay until near nine o'clock the next
+morning. Having got up and breakfasted, he related to his wife, with an
+aching head, the result of the last night's proceedings. Everything
+he assured her was settled: Phelim and Peggy were to be called the
+following Sunday, as Phelim, he supposed, had already informed her.
+
+"Where's Phelim?" said the wife; "an' why didn't he come home wid you
+last night?"
+
+"Where is Phelim? Why, Sheelah, woman sure he did come home wid me last
+night."
+
+"_Ghrush orrin_, Larry, no! What could happen him? Why, man, I thought
+you knew where he was; an' in regard of his bein' abroad so often at
+night, myself didn't think it sthrange."
+
+Phelim's absence astounded them both, particularly the father, who
+had altogether forgotten everything that had happened on the preceding
+night, after the period of his intoxication. He proposed to go back to
+Donovan's to inquire for him, and was about to proceed there when Phelim
+made his appearance, dressed in his own tender apparel only. His face
+was three inches longer than usual, and the droop in his eye remarkably
+conspicuous.
+
+"No fear of him," said the father, "here's himself. Arrah, Phelim, what
+became of you last night? Where wor you?"
+
+Phelim sat down very deliberately and calmly, looked dismally at his
+mother, and then looked more dismally at his father.
+
+"I suppose you're sick too, Phelim," said the father. "My head's goin'
+round like a top."
+
+"Ate your breakfast," said his mother; it's the best thing for you."
+
+"Where wor you last night, Phelim?" inquired the father.
+
+"What are you sayin', ould man?"
+
+"Who wor you wid last night?"
+
+"Do, Phelim," said the mother, "tell us, aroon. I hope it wasn't out you
+wor. Tell us, avourneen?"
+
+"Ould woman, what are you talking about?"
+
+Phelim whistled "_ulican dim oh_," or, "the song of sorrow." At length
+he bounced to his feet, and exclaimed in a loud, rapid voice:--"_Ma
+chuirp an diouol!_ ould couple, but I'm robbed of my ten guineas by Sam
+Appleton!"
+
+"Robbed by Sam Appleton! Heavens above!" exclaimed the father.
+
+"Robbed by Sam Appleton! _Gra machree_, Phelim! no, you aren't!"
+exclaimed the mother.
+
+"_Gra machree_ yourself! but I say I am," replied Phelim; "robbed clane
+of every penny of it!"
+
+Phelim then sat down to breakfast--for he was one of those happy mortals
+whose appetite is rather sharpened by affliction--and immediately
+related to his father and mother the necessity which Appleton's
+connection had imposed on him of leaving the country; adding, that while
+he was in a state of intoxication, he had been stripped of Appleton's
+clothes; that his own were left beside him; that when he awoke the next
+morning, he found his borrowed suit gone; that on searching for his own,
+he found, to his misery, that the ten guineas had disappeared along with
+Appleton, who, he understood from his father, had "left the neighborhood
+for a while, till the throuble he was in 'ud pass over."
+
+"But I know where he's gone," said Phelim, "an' may the divil's luck go
+wid him, an' God's curse on the day I ever had anything to do wid
+that hell-fire Ribbon business! 'Twas he first brought me into it, the
+villain; an' now I'd give the town land we're in to be fairly out of
+it."
+
+"_Hanim an diouol!_" said the father, "is the ten guineas gone? The
+curse of hell upon him, for a black desaver! Where's the villain,
+Phelim?"
+
+"He's gone to America," replied the son* "The divil tare the tongue
+out o' myself,' too! I should be puttin' him up to go there, an' to get
+money, if it was to be had. The villain bit me fairly."
+
+"Well, but how are we to manage?" inquired Larry. "What's to be done?"
+
+"Why," said the other, "to bear it an say nothin'. Even if he was in his
+father's house, the double-faced villain has me so much in his power,
+that I couldn't say a word about it. My curse on the Ribbon business, I
+say, from my heart out!"
+
+That day was a very miserable one to Phelim and the father. The loss of
+the ten guineas, and the feverish sickness produced from their debauch,
+rendered their situation not enviable. Some other small matters, too,
+in which Phelim was especially concerned, independent of the awkward
+situation in which he felt himself respecting the three calls on the
+following day, which was Sunday, added greater weight to his anxiety. He
+knew not how to manage, especially upon the subject of his habiliments,
+which certainly were in a very dilapidated state. An Irishman, however,
+never despairs. If he has not apparel of his own sufficiently decent to
+wear on his wedding-day, he borrows from a friend. Phelim and his father
+remembered that there were several neighbors in the village, who would
+oblige him with a suit for the wedding; and as to the other necessary
+expenses, they did what their countrymen are famous for--they trusted to
+chance.
+
+"We'll work ourselves out of it some way," said Larry. "Sure, if all
+fails us, we can sell the goats for the weddin' expenses. It's one
+comfort that Paddy Donovan must find the dinner; an' all we have to get
+is the whiskey, the marriage money, an' some other thrifies."
+
+"They say," observed Phelim, "that people have more luck whin they're
+married than whin they're single. I'll have a bout at the marriage, so
+I will; for worse luck I can't have, if I had half a dozen wives, than I
+always met wid."
+
+     * This is another absurd opinion peculiar to the
+     Irish, and certainly one of the most pernicious that
+     prevail among them. Indeed, I believe there is no
+     country in which so many absurd maxims exist.
+
+"I'll go down," observed Larry, "to Paddy Donovan's, an' send him to the
+priest's to dive in your names to be called to-morrow. Faith, it's well
+that you won't have to appear, or I dunna how you'd get over it."
+
+"No," said Phelim, "that bill won't pass. You must go to the priest
+yourself, an' see the curate: if you go near Father O'Hara, it 'ud knock
+a plan on the head that I've invinted. I'm in the notion that I'll make
+the ould woman bleed agin. I'll squeeze as much out of her as I'll
+bring me to America, for I'm not overly safe here; or, if all fails,
+I'll marry her, an' run away wid the money. It 'ud bring us all across."
+
+Larry's interview with the curate was but a short one. He waited on
+Donovan, however, before he went, who expressed himself satisfied with
+the arrangement, and looked forward to the marriage as certain. As for
+Phelim, the idea of being called to three females at the same time, was
+one that tickled his vanity very much. Vanity, where the fair sex was
+concerned, had been always his predominant failing. He was not finally
+determined on marriage with any of them; but he knew that should he
+even escape the three, the _eclat_, resulting from so celebrated a
+transaction would recommend him to the sex for the remainder of his
+life. Impressed with this view of the matter, he sauntered about as
+usual; saw Foodie Flattery's daughter, and understood that her uncle had
+gone to the priest, to have his niece and worthy Phelim called the next
+day. But besides this hypothesis, Phelim had another, which, after all,
+was the real one. He hoped that the three applications would prevent the
+priest from calling him at all.
+
+The priest, who possessed much sarcastic humor, on finding the name of
+Phelim come in as a candidate for marriage honors with three different
+women, felt considerably puzzled to know what he could be at. That
+Phelim might hoax one or two of them was very probable, but that he
+should have the effrontery to make him the instrument of such an affair,
+he thought a little too bad.
+
+"Now," said he to his curate, as they talked the matter over that night.
+"it is quite evident that this scapegrace reckons upon our refusal to
+call him with any of those females to-morrow. It is also certain that
+not one of the three to whom he has pledged himself is aware that he is
+under similar obligations to the other two."
+
+"How do you intend to act, sir?" inquired the curate.
+
+"Why," said Mr. O'Hara, "certainly to call him to each: it will give
+the business a turn for which he is not prepared. He will stand exposed,
+moreover, before the congregation, and that will be some punishment to
+him."
+
+"I don't know as to the punishment," replied the curate. "If ever a
+human being was free from shame, Phelim is. The fellow will consider it
+a joke."
+
+"Very possible," observed his superior, "but I am anxious to punish this
+old woman. It may prevent her from uniting herself with a fellow who
+certainly would, on becoming master of her money, immediately abandon
+her--perhaps proceed to America."
+
+"It will also put the females of the parish on their guard against him,"
+said the innocent curate, who knew not that it would raise him highly in
+their estimation.
+
+"We will have a scene, at all events," said Mr. O'Hara; "for I'm
+resolved to expose him. No blame can be attached to those whom he has
+duped, excepting only the old woman, whose case will certainly excite
+a great deal of mirth. That matters not, however; she has earned the
+ridicule, and let her bear it." It was not until Sunday morning that the
+three calls occurred to Phelim in a new light.
+
+He forgot that the friends of the offended parties might visit upon his
+proper carcase the contumely he offered to them. This, however, did not
+give him much anxiety, for Phelim was never more in his element than
+when entering upon a row.
+
+The Sunday in question was fine, and the congregation unusually large;
+one would think that all the inhabitants of the parish of Teernarogarah
+had been assembled. Most of them certainly were.
+
+The priest, after having gone through the usual ceremonies of the
+Sabbath worship, excepting those with which he concludes the mass,
+turned round to the congregation, and thus addressed them:--
+
+"I would not," said he, "upon any other occasion of this kind, think it
+necessary to address you at all; but this is one perfectly unique, and
+in some degree patriarchal, because, my friends, we are informed that
+it was allowed in the times of Abraham and his successors, to keep
+more than one wife. This custom is about being revived by a modern,
+who wants, in rather a barefaced manner, to palm himself upon us as a
+patriarch. And who do you think, my friends, this Irish Patriarch is?
+Why, no other than bouncing Phelim O'Toole!"
+
+This was received precisely as the priest anticipated: loud were the
+snouts of laughter from all parts of the congregation.
+
+"Divil a fear o' Phelim!" they exclaimed. "He wouldn't be himself, or
+he'd kick up a dust some way."
+
+"Blessed Phelim! Just like him! Faith, he couldn't be marrid in the
+common coorse!"
+
+"Arrah, whisht till we hear the name o' the happy crathur that's to be
+blisthered with Phelim! The darlin's in luck, whoever she is, an' has
+gained a blessed prize in the 'Bouncer.'"
+
+"This bouncing patriarch," continued the priest, "has made his selection
+with great judgment and discrimination. In the first place, he has
+pitched upon a hoary damsel of long standing in the world;--one blessed
+with age and experience. She is qualified to keep Phelim's house well,
+as soon as it shall be built; but whether she will be able to keep
+Phelim himself, is another consideration. It is not unlikely that
+Phelim, in imitation of his great prototypes, may prefer living in a
+tent. But whether she keeps Phelim or the house, one thing is certain,
+that Phelim will keep her money. Phelim selected this aged woman, we
+presume, for her judgment; for surely she who has given such convincing
+proof of discretion, must make a useful partner to one who, like Phelim,
+has that virtue yet to learn. I have no doubt, however, but in a short
+time he will be as discreet as his teacher."
+
+"Blood alive! Isn't that fine language?"
+
+"You may say that! Begad, it's himself can discoorse! What's the
+Protestants to that?"
+
+"The next upon the list is one who, though a poor man's daughter, will
+certainly bring property to Phelim. There is also an aptness in this
+selection, which does credit to the 'Patriarch.' Phelim is a great
+dancer, an accomplishment with which we do not read that the patriarchs
+themselves were possessed: although we certainly do read that a light
+heel was of little service to Jacob. Well, Phelim carries a light heel,
+and the second female of his choice on this list carries a 'light hand;'
+(* Intimating theft) it is, therefore, but natural to suppose that, if
+ever they are driven to extremities, they will make light of many things
+which other people would consider as of weighty moment. Whether Phelim
+and she may long remain stationary in this country, is a problem
+more likely to be solved at the county assizes than here. It is not
+improbable that his Majesty may recommend the 'Patriarch' and one of
+his wives to try the benefit of a voyage to New South Wales, he himself
+graciously vouch-saving to bear their expenses."
+
+"Divil a lie in that, anyhow! If ever any one crossed the wather, Phelim
+will. Can't his Reverence be funny whin he plases?"
+
+"Many a time it was prophecized for him: an' his Reverence knows best."
+
+"Begad, Phelim's gettin' over the coals. But sure it's all the way the
+father an' mother reared him."
+
+"Tunder-an'-trff, is he goin' to be called to a pair o' them?"
+
+"Faix, so it seems."
+
+"Oh, the divil's clip! Is he mad? But let us hear it out."
+
+"The third damsel is by no means so, well adapted for Phelim as either
+of the other two. What she could have seen in him is another problem
+much more difficult than the one I have mentioned. I would advise her
+to reconsider the subject, and let Phelim have the full benefit of the
+attention she may bestow upon it. If she finds the 'Patriarch' possessed
+of any one virtue, except necessity, I will admit that it is pretty
+certain that she will soon discover the longitude, and that has puzzled
+the most learned men of the world. If she marries this 'Patriarch', I
+think the angels who may visit him will come in the shape of policemen;
+and that Phelim, so long as he can find a cudgel, will give them
+anything but a patriarchal reception, is another thing of which we may
+rest pretty certain.
+
+"I. now publish the bans of matrimony between Phelim O'Toole of
+Teernarogarah, and Bridget Doran of Dernascobe. If any person knows of
+any impediment why these two should not be joined in wedlock, they are
+bound to declare it.
+
+"This Bridget Doran, my friends, is no other than my old housekeeper;
+but when, where, or how, Phelim could have won upon her juvenile
+affections is one of those mysteries which is never to be explained.
+I dare say, the match was brought about by despair on her side, and
+necessity on his. She despaired of getting a husband, and he had a
+necessity for the money. In point of age I admit she would make a very
+fit wife for any 'Patriarch.'"
+
+Language could not describe the effect which this disclosure produced
+upon the congregation. The fancy of every one present was tickled at
+the idea of a union between Phelim and the old woman. It was followed by
+roars of laughter which lasted several minutes.
+
+"Oh, thin, the curse o' the crows upon him, was he only able to butther
+up the ould woman! Oh, _Ghe dldven!_ that flogs. Why, it's a wondher he
+didn't stale the ould slip, an' make a run-away match of it--ha, ha, ha!
+Musha, bad scran to her, but she had young notions of her own! A purty
+bird she picked up in Phelim!--ha, ha, ha!"
+
+"I also publish the banns of matrimony between Phelim O'Toole of
+Teernarogarah and Sally Flattery of the same place. If any of you knows
+of any impediment why they should not be joined in wedlock you are bound
+to declare it."
+
+The mirth rose again, loud and general. Poodle Flattery, whose character
+was so well known, appeared so proper a father-in-law for Phelim, that
+his selection in this instance delighted them highly.
+
+"Betther an' betther, Phelim! More power to you! You're fixed at last.
+Poodle Flattery's daughter--a known thief! Well, what harm? Phelim
+himself has pitch on his fingers--or had, anyhow, when he was growin'
+up--for many a thing stuck to them. Oh, bedad, now we know what his
+Reverence was at when he talked about the 'Sizes, bad luck to them!
+Betune her an' the ould woman, Phelim 'ud be in Paradise! Foodie
+Flattery's daughter! Begad, she'll 'bring him property' sure enough, as
+his Reverence says."
+
+"I also publish the banns of matrimony between Phelim O'Toole--whom we
+must in future call the 'Patriarch'--of Teernarogarah, and Peggy Donovan
+of the same place. If any of you knows any impediment in the way of
+their marriage, you are bound to declare it."
+
+"Bravo! Phelim acushla. 'Tis you that's the blessed youth.
+Tundher-an'-whiskey, did ever any body hear of sich desate? To do three
+o' them. Be sure the Bouncer has some schame in this. Well, one would
+suppose Paddy Donovan an' his daughter had more sinse nor to think of
+sich a runagate as Bouncin' Phelim."
+
+"No, but the Pathriark! Sure his Reverence sez that we musn't call him
+anything agin but the Pathriark! Oh, be gorra, that's the name!--ha, ha,
+ha!"
+
+When the mirth of the congregation had subsided, and their comments
+ended, the priest concluded in the following words:--
+
+"Now, my friends, here is such a piece of profligacy as I have never,
+in the whole course of my pastoral duties, witnessed. It is the act of
+Phelim O'Toole, be it known, who did not scruple to engage himself for
+marriage to three females--that is, to two girls and an old woman--and
+who, in addition, had the effrontery to send me his name and theirs, to
+be given out all on the same Sunday; thus making me an instrument in his
+hands to hoax those who trusted in his word. That he can marry but
+one of them is quite clear; but that he would not scruple to marry the
+three, and three more to complete the half-dozen, is a fact which no one
+who knows him will doubt. For my part, I know not how this business may
+terminate. Of a truth he has contrived to leave the claims of the three
+females in a state of excellent confusion. Whether it raise or lessen
+him in their opinion I cannot pretend to determine. I am sorry for
+Donovan's daughter, for I know not what greater calamity could befall
+any honest family than a matrimonial union with Phelim O'Toole. I trust
+that this day's proceedings will operate as a caution to the females
+of the parish against such an unscrupulous reprobate. It is for this
+purpose only that I publish the names given in to me. His character was
+pretty well known before; it is now established; and having established
+it, I dismiss the subject altogether."
+
+Phelim's fame was now nearly at its height. Never before had such a case
+been known; yet the people somehow were not so much astonished as might
+be supposed. On the contrary, had Phelim's courtship gone off like that
+of another man, they would have felt more surprised. We need scarcely
+say, that the "giving out" or "calling" of Phelim and the three damsels
+was spread over the whole parish before the close of that Sunday. Every
+one had it--man, woman, and child. It was told, repeated, and improved
+as it went along. Now circumstances were added, fresh points made out,
+and other _dramatis personae_ brought in--all with great felicity, and
+quite suitable to Phelim's character.
+
+Strongly contrasted with the amusement of the parishioners in general,
+was the indignation felt by the three damsels and their friends. The old
+housekeeper was perfectly furious; so much so, indeed, that the priest
+gave some dark hints at the necessity of sending for a strait waistcoat.
+Her fellow-servants took the liberty of breaking some strong jests upon
+her, in return for which she took the liberty of breaking two strong
+churnstaves upon them. Being a remarkably stout woman for her years,
+she put forth her strength to such purpose that few of them went to bed
+without sore bones. The priest was seriously annoyed at it, for he found
+that his house was a scene of battle during the remainder of the day.
+
+Sally Flattery's uncle, in the absence of her father, indignantly
+espoused the cause of his niece. He and Donovan each went among their
+friends to excite in them a proper resentment, and to form a faction for
+the purpose of chastising Phelim. Their chagrin was bitter on finding
+that their most wrathful representations of the insult sustained by
+their families, were received with no other spirit than one of the most
+extravagant mirth. In vain did they rage and fume, and swear; they could
+get no one to take a serious view of it. Phelim O'Toole was the author
+of all, and from him it was precisely what they had expected.
+
+Phelim himself, and the father, on hearing of the occurrence after mass,
+were as merry as any other two in the parish. At first the father was
+disposed to lose his temper; but on Phelim telling him he would bear no
+"gosther" on the subject, he thought proper to take it in good humor.
+About this time they had not more than a week's provision in the house,
+and only three shillings of capital. The joke of the three calls was too
+good a one to pass off as an ordinary affair; they had three shillings,
+and although it was their last, neither of them could permit the
+matter to escape as a dry joke. They accordingly repaired to the little
+public-house of the village, where they laughed at the world, got drunk,
+hugged each other, despised all mankind, and staggered home, Fagged and
+merry, poor and hearty, their arms about each other's necks, perfect
+models of filial duty and paternal affection.
+
+The reader is aware that the history of Phelim's abrupt engagement
+with the housekeeper, was conveyed by Fool Art to Sally Flattery. Her
+thievish character rendered marriage as hopeless to her as length of
+days did to Bridget Doran. No one knew the plan she had laid for Phelim,
+but this fool, and, in order to secure his silence, she had promised him
+a shirt on the Monday after the first call. Now Art, as was evident
+by his endless habit of shrugging, felt the necessity of a shirt very
+strongly.
+
+About ton o'clock on Monday he presented himself to Sally, and claimed
+his recompense.
+
+"Art," said Sally, "the shirt I intended for you is upon Squire Nugent's
+hedge beside their garden. You know the family's goin' up to Dublin on
+Thursday, Art, an' they're gettin' their washin' done in time to be off.
+Go down, but don't let any one see you; take the third shirt on the row,
+an' bring it up to me till I smooth it for you."
+
+Art sallied down to the hedge on which the linen had been put out to
+dry, and having reconnoitered the premises, shrugged himself, and cast a
+longing eye on the third shirt. With that knavish penetration, however,
+peculiar to such persons, he began to reflect that Sally might have
+some other object in view besides his accommodation. He determined,
+therefore, to proceed upon new principles--sufficiently safe, he
+thought, to protect him from the consequences of theft. "Good-morrow,
+Bush," said Art, addressing that on which the third shirt was spread.
+"Isn't it a burnin' shame an' a sin for you," he continued, "to have
+sich a line white shirt an you, an' me widout a stitch to my back. Will
+you swap?"
+
+Having waited until the bush had due time to reply.
+
+"Sorra fairer," he observed; "silence gives consint."
+
+In less than two minutes he stripped, put on one of the Squire's best
+shirts, and spread out his own dusky fragment in its place.
+
+"It's a good thing," said Art, "to have a clear conscience; a fair
+exchange is no robbery."
+
+Now, it so happened that the Squire himself, who was a humorist, and
+also a justice of the peace, saw Art putting his morality in practice at
+the hedge. He immediately walked out with an intention of playing off
+a trick upon the fool for his dishonesty; and he felt the greater
+inclination to do this in consequence of an opinion long current, that
+Art, though he had outwitted several, had never been outwitted himself.
+
+Art had been always a welcome guest in the Squire's kitchen, and never
+passed the "Big House," as an Irish country gentleman's residence is
+termed, without calling. On this occasion, however, he was too cunning
+to go near it--a fact which the Squire observed. By taking a short cut
+across one of his own fields, he got before Art, and turning the angle
+of a hedge, met him trotting along at his usual pace.
+
+"Well, Art, where now?"
+
+"To the crass roads, your honor."
+
+"Art, is not this a fine place of mine? Look at these groves, and the
+lawn, and the river there, and the mountains behind all. Is it not equal
+to Sir William E-----'s?"
+
+Sir William was Art's favorite patron.
+
+"Sir William, your honor, has all this at his place."
+
+"But I think my views are finer."
+
+"They're fine enough," replied Art; "but where's the lake afore the
+door?"
+
+The Squire said no more about his prospects.
+
+"Art," he continued, "would you carry a letter from me to M-----?"
+
+"I'll be wantin' somethin' to dhrink on the way," said Art.
+
+"You shall get something to eat and drink before you go," said the
+Squire, "and half-a-crown for your trouble."
+
+"Augh," exclaimed Art, "be dodda, sir, you're nosed like Sir William,
+and chinned like Captain Taylor." This was always Art's compliment when
+pleased.
+
+The Squire brought him up to the house, ordered him refreshment, and
+while Art partook of it, wrote a _letter of mittimus_ to the county
+jailor, authorizing him to detain the bearer in prison until he should
+hear further from him.
+
+Art, having received the half-crown and the letter, appeared delighted;
+but, on hearing the name of the person to whom it was addressed, he
+smelt a trick. He promised faithfully, however, to deliver it, and
+betrayed no symptoms whatever of suspicion. After getting some distance
+from the big house, he set his wits to work, and ran over in his mind
+the names of those who had been most in the habit of annoying him. At
+the head of this list stood Phelim O'Toole, and on Phelim's head did
+he resolve to transfer the revenge which the Squire, he had no doubt,
+intended to take on himself.
+
+With considerable speed he made way to Larry O'Toole's, where such a
+scene presented itself as made him for a moment forget the immediate
+purport of his visit.
+
+Opposite Phelim, dressed out in her best finery, stood the housekeeper,
+zealously insisting' on either money or marriage. On one side of him
+stood old Donovan and his daughter, whom he had forced to come, in the
+character of a witness, to support his charges against the gay deceiver.
+On the other were ranged Sally Flattery, in tears, and her uncle in
+wrath, each ready to pounce upon Phelim.
+
+Phelim stood the very emblem of patience and good-humor. When one of
+them attacked him, he winked at the other two when either of the other
+two came on, he Winked still at those who took breath. Sometimes he trod
+on his father's toe, lest the old fellow might lose the joke, and not
+unfrequently proposed their going to a public-house, and composing their
+differences over a bottle, if any of them would pay the expenses.
+
+"What do you mane to do?" said the housekeeper; "but it's asy known
+I'm an unprojected woman, or I wouldn't be thrated as I am. If I had
+relations livin' or near me, we'd pay you on the bones for bringin' me
+to shame and scandal, as you have done."
+
+"Upon my sanies, Mrs. Doran, I feel for your situation, so I do," said
+Phelim. You've outlived all your friends, an' if it was in my power to
+bring any o' them back to you I'd do it."
+
+"Oh, you desaver, is that the feelin' you have for me, when I thought
+you'd be a guard an' a projection to me? You know I have the money, you
+sconce, an' how comfortable it 'ud keep us, if you'd only see what's
+good for you. You blarnied an' palavered me, you villain, till you
+gained my infections an' thin you tuck the cholic as an excuse to lave
+me in a state of dissolution an' disparagement. You promised to marry
+me, an' you had no notion of it."
+
+"You're not the only one he has disgraced, Mrs. Doran," said Donovan.
+"A purty way he came down, himself an' his father, undher pretence of
+coortin' my daughter. He should lay down his ten guineas, too, to show
+us what he had to begin the world wid, the villain!--an' him had no
+notion of it aither."
+
+"An' he should send this girl to make me go to the priest to have him
+and her called, the reprobate," said Nick Flattery; "an' him had no
+notion of it aither."
+
+"Sure he sent us all there," exclaimed Donovan.
+
+"He did," said the old woman.
+
+"Not a doubt of it," observed Flattery.
+
+"Ten guineas!" said the housekeeper. "An' so you brought my ten guineas
+in your pocket to coort another girl! Aren't you a right profligate?"
+
+"Yes," said Donovan, "aren't you a right profligate?"
+
+"Answer the dacent people," said Mattery, "aren't you a right
+profligate?"
+
+"Take the world asy, all of ye," replied Phelim. "Mrs. Doran, there was
+three of you called, sure enough; but, be the vestments, I intinded--do
+you hear me, Mrs. Doran? Now have rason--I say, do you hear me? Be the
+vestmints, I intinded to marry only one of you; an' that I'll do still,
+except I'm vexed--(a wink at the old woman). Yet you're all flyin' at
+me, as if I had three heads or three tails upon me."
+
+"Maybe the poor boy's not so much to blame," said Mrs. Doran. "There's
+hussies in this world," and here she threw an angry eye upon the other
+two, "that 'ud give a man no pace till he'd promise to marry them."
+
+"Why did he promise to them that didn't want him thin?" exclaimed
+Donovan. "I'm not angry that he didn't marry my daughther--for I
+wouldn't give her to him now--but I am at the slight he put an her."
+
+"Paddy Donovan, did you hear what I said jist now?" replied Phelim, "I
+wish to Jamini some people 'ud have sinse! Be them five crasses, I knew
+thim I intinded to marry, as well as I do where I'm standin'. That's
+plain talk, Paddy. I'm sure the world's not passed yet, I hope"--(a wink
+at Paddy Donovan.)
+
+"An' wasn't he a big rascal to make little of my brother's daughter as
+he did?" said Flattery; "but he'll rub his heels together for the same
+act."
+
+"Nick Flathery, do you think I could marry three wives? Be that
+horseshoe over the door, Sally Flathery, you didn't thrate me dacent.
+She did not, Nick, an' you ought to know that it was wrong of her to
+come here to-day."
+
+"Well, but what do you intind to do Phelim, avourn--you profligate?"
+said the half-angry, half-pacified housekeeper, who, being the veteran,
+always led on the charge. "Why, I intind to marry one of you," said
+Phelim. "I say, Mrs. Doran, do you see thim ten fingers acrass--be thim
+five crasses I'll do what I said, if nothing happens to put it aside."
+
+"Then be an honest man," said Flattery, "an' tell us which o' them you
+will marry."
+
+"Nick, don't you know I always regarded your family. If I didn't that
+I may never do an ill turn! Now! But some people can't see anything.
+Arrah, fandher-an'-whiskey, man, would you expect me to tell out before
+all that's here, who I'll marry--to be hurtin' the feelin's of the rest.
+Faith, I'll never do a shabby thing."
+
+"What rekimpinse will you make my daughter for bringin' down her name
+afore the whole parish, along wid them she oughtn't to be named in the
+one day wid?" said Donovan.
+
+"An' who is that, Paddy Donovan?" said the housekeeper, with a face of
+flame.
+
+"None of your broad hints, Paddy," said Nick. "If it's a collusion to
+Sally Flattery you mane, take care I don't make you ate your words."
+
+"Paddy," exclaimed Phelim, "you oughtn't to be hurtin' their
+feelin's!"--(a friendly wink to Paddy.)
+
+"If you mane me," said the housekeeper, "by the crook on the fire, I'd
+lave you a mark."
+
+"I mane you for one, thin, since you provoke me," replied Donovan.
+
+"For one, is it?" said Nick; "an' who's the other, i' you plase?"
+
+"Your brother's daughter," he replied. "Do you think I'd even (*
+compare) my daughter to a thief?"
+
+"Be gorra," observed Phelim, "that's too provokin', an' what I wouldn't
+bear. Will ye keep the pace, I say, till I spake a word to Mrs Doran?
+Mrs. Doran, can I have a word or two wid you outside the house?"
+
+"To be sure you can," she replied; "I'd give you fair play, if the
+diouol was in you."
+
+Phelim, accordingly, brought her out, and thus accosted her,--
+
+"Now, Mrs. Doran, you think I thrated you ondacent; but do you see that
+book?" said he, producing a book of ballads, on which he had sworn many
+a similar oath before? "Be the contints o' that book, as sure as you're
+beside me, it's you I intind to marry. These other two--the curse o'
+the crows upon them! I wish we could get them from about the place--is
+bothyrin' for love o' me, an' I surely did promise to get myself called
+to them. They wanted it to be a promise of marriage; but, says I, 'sure
+if we're called together it's the same, for whin it comes to that, all's
+right,'--an' so I tould both o' them, unknownst to one another. Arra,
+be me sowl, you'd make two like them, so you would; an' if you hadn't
+a penny, I'd marry you afore aither o' them to-morrow. Now, there's the
+whole sacret, an' don't be onaisy about it. Tell Father O'Hara how it
+is, whin you go home, an' that he must call the three o' you to me agin
+on next Sunday, and the Sunday afther, plase Goodness; jist that I may
+keep my promise to them. You know I couldn't have luck or grace if I
+marrid you wid the sin of two broken promises on me."
+
+"My goodness, Phelim, but you tuck a, burdyeen off o' me! Faix, you'll
+see how happy we'll be."
+
+"To be sure we will! But I'm tould you're sometimes crass, Mrs. Doran.
+Now, you must promise to be kind an' lovin' to the childre, or be the
+vestment, I'll break off the match yet."
+
+"Och, an' why wouldn't I, Phelim, acushla? Sure that's but rason."
+
+"Well, take this book an' swear it. Be gorra, your word won't do,
+for it's a thing my mind's made up on. It's I that'll be fond o' the
+childre."
+
+"An' how am I to swear it, Phelim? for I never tuck an oath myself yet."
+
+"Take the book in your hand, shut one eye, and say the words afther me.
+Be the contints o' this book,"
+
+"Be the contints o' this book,"
+
+"I'll be kind an' motherly, an' boistherous,"
+
+"I'll be kind, an' motherly, an boistherous,"
+
+"To my own childhre,"
+
+"To my own childhre,"
+
+"An' never bate or abuse thim,"
+
+"An' never bate or abuse thim,"
+
+"Barrin' whin they desarve it;"
+
+"Barrin' whin they desarve it;"
+
+"An' this I swear,"
+
+"An' this I swear,"
+
+"In the presence of St. Phelim,"
+
+"In the presence of St. Phelim," "Amin!"
+
+"Amin!"
+
+"Now, Mrs. Doran, acushla, if you could jist know how asy my conscience
+is about the childhre, poor crathurs, you'd be in mighty fine spirits.
+There won't be sich a lovin' husband, begad, in Europe. It's I that'll
+coax you, an' butther you up like a new pair o' brogues; but, begad,
+you must be sweeter than liquorice or sugar-candy to me. Won't you,
+darlin'?"
+
+"Be the crass, Phelim, darlin', jewel, I'll be as kind a wife as ever
+breathed. Arrah, Phelim, won't you come down to-morrow evenin'? There'll
+be no one at home but myself, an'--ha, ha, ha!--Oh, you coaxin' rogue!
+But, Phelim, you musn't be--Oh, you're a rogue! I see you laughin'! Will
+you come darlin?"
+
+"Surely. But, death alive! I was near for-gettin'; sure, bad luck to the
+penny o' the ten guineas but I paid away."
+
+"Paid away! Is it my ten guineas?"
+
+"Your ten guineas, darlin'; an' right well I managed it. Didn't I secure
+Pat Hanratty's farm by it? Sam Appleton's uncle had it as good as taken;
+so, begad, I came down wid the ten guineas, by way of airles, an' now we
+have it. I knew you'd be plased to hear it, an' that you'd be proud to
+give me ten more for clo'es an' the weddin' expenses. Isn't that good
+news, avourneen? Eh, you duck o' diamonds? Faith, let Phelim alone! An'
+another thing--I must call you Bridget for the future! It's sweeter an'
+more lovin'."
+
+"Phelim, I wish you had consulted wid me afore you done it: but it
+can't be helped. Come down to-morrow evenin', an' we'll see what's to be
+done."
+
+"The grace o'heaven upon you, but you are the winnin'est woman alive
+this day! Now take my advice, an' go home without comin' in. I'm wantin'
+to get this other pair off o' my hands, as well as I can, an' our best
+way is to do it all widout noise. Isn't it, darlin'?"
+
+"It is, Phelim, jewel; an' I'll go."
+
+"Faith, Bridget, you've dealt in thracle afore now, you're so sweet.
+Now, acushla, farewell: an' take care of yourself till tomorrow
+evenin'!"
+
+Phelim, on re-entering his father's cabin, found Larry and Peggy Donovan
+placed between her father and Flattery, each struggling to keep them
+asunder. Phelim at first had been anxious to set them by the ears,
+but his interview with the old woman changed his plan of operations
+altogether. With some difficulty he succeeded in repressing their
+tendency to single combat, which, having effected, he brought out
+Flattery and his niece, both of whom he thus addressed:--
+
+"Be the vestment, Sally, only that my regard an' love for you is
+uncommon, I'd break off the affair altogether, so I would."
+
+"An' why would you do so, Phelim O'Toole?" inquired the uncle.
+
+"Bekase," replied Phelim, "you came here an' made a show of me, when I
+wished to have no _bruliagh_, at all at all. In regard of Peggy Donovan,
+I never spoke a word to the girl about marriage since I was christened.
+Saize the syllable! My father brought me down there to gosther awhile,
+the other night, an' Paddy sent away for whiskey. An' the curse o'
+Cromwell on myself! I should get tossicated. So while I was half-saes
+over, the two ould rip set to makin' the match--planned to have us
+called--an' me knowin' nothin' about it, good, bad, or indifferent.
+That's the thruth, be the sky above us."
+
+"An' what have you to say about the housekeeper, Phelim?"
+
+"Why I don't know yet, who done me there. I was about takin' a farm, an'
+my father borried ten guineas from her. Somebody heard it--I suspect Sam
+Appleton--an' gave in our names to the priest, to be called, makin' a
+good joke of it. All sorts o' luck to them, barrin' good luck, that did
+it; but they put me in a purty state! But never heed! I'll find them out
+yet. Now go home, both o' you, an' I'll slip down in half an hour, with
+a bottle o' whiskey in my pocket. We'll talk over what's to be done.
+Sure Sally here, knows that it's my own intherest to marry her and no
+one else."
+
+"If my father thought you would, Phelim, he'd not stag, even if he was
+to cras the wather!"
+
+"Go home, Sally darlin' till I get this mad Donovan an' his daughter
+away. Be all that's beautiful I'll be apt to give him a taste o'
+my shillely, if he doesn't behave himself! Half an hour I'll be
+clownin--wid the bottle; an' don't you go, Nick, till you see me."
+
+"Phelim," said the uncle, "you know how the case is. You must aither
+marry the girl, or take a long voyage, abouchal. We'll have no bouncin'
+or palaver."
+
+"Bedad, Mick, I've great patience wid you," said Phelim, smiling: "go
+off, I say, both of you."
+
+They proceeded homewards, and Phelim returned to appease the anger of
+Donovan, as he had that of the others. Fresh fiction was again drawn
+forth, every word of which the worthy father corroborated. They promised
+to go down that night and drink another bottle together; a promise which
+they knew by the state of their finances, it was impossible to fulfil.
+The prospect of a "booze," however, tranquillized Donovan, who in his
+heart relished a glass of liquor as well as either Phelim or the father.
+Shaking of hands and professions of friendship were again beginning to
+multiply with great rapidity, when Peggy thought proper to make a few
+observations on the merits of her admirer.
+
+"In regard to me," she observed, "you may save yourself the throuble o'
+comin'. I wouldn't marry Phelim, afther what the priest said yistherday,
+if he had the riches o' the townland we're spakin' in. I never cared for
+him, nor liked him; an' it was only to plase my father an' mother, that
+I consinted to be called to him at all. I'll never join myself to the
+likes of him. If I do, may I be a corpse the next minute!"
+
+Having thus expressed herself, she left her father, Phelim, and Larry,
+to digest her sentiments, and immediately went home.
+
+Donovan, who was outrageous at this contempt of his authority, got his
+hat with the intention of compelling her to return and retract, in
+their presence, what she had said; but the daughter, being the more
+light-footed of the two, reached home before he could overtake her,
+where, backed by her mother, she maintained her resolution, and
+succeeded, ere long, in bringing the father over to her opinion.
+
+During this whole scene in Larry's, Fool Art sat in that wild
+abstraction which characterizes the unhappy class to which he belonged.
+He muttered to himself, laughed--or rather chuckled--shrugged his
+shoulders, and appeared to be as unconscious of what had taken place as
+an automaton. When the coast was clear he rose up and plucking Phelim's
+skirt, beckoned him towards the door.
+
+"Phelim," said he, when they had got out, "would you like to airn a
+crown?"
+
+"Tell me how, Art?" said Phelim.
+
+"A letther from, the Square to the jailer of M------ jail. If you bring
+back an answer, you'll get a crown, your dinner, an' a quart o' strong
+beer."
+
+"But why don't you bring it yourself, Art?"
+
+"Why I'm afeard. Sure they'd keep ma in jail, I'm tould, if they'd catch
+me in it. Aha! Bo dodda, I won't go near them: sure they'd hang me for
+shootin' Bonypart.--Aha!"
+
+"Must the answer be brought back today, Art?"
+
+"Oh! It wouldn't do to-morrow, at all. Be dodda, no! Five shillins,
+your dinner, an' a quart of sthrong beer!--Aha! But you must give me
+a shillin' or two, to buy a sword; for the Square's goin' to make me a
+captain: thin I'll be grand! an' I'll make you a sargin'."
+
+This seemed a windfall to Phelim. The unpleasant dilemma in which Sally
+Flattery had placed him, by the fabricated account of her father's
+imprisonment, made him extremely anxious to see Foodie himself, and to
+ascertain the precise outrage for which he had been secured. Here
+then was an opportunity of an interview with him, and of earning
+five shillings, a good dinner, and a quart of strong beer, as already
+specified.
+
+"Art," said he, "give me the letther, an' I'm the boy that'll soon do
+the job. Long life to you, Art! Be the contints o' the book, Art, I'll
+never pelt you or vex you agin, my worthy; an' I'll always call you
+captain!" Phelim immediately commenced his journey to M------, which was
+only five miles distant, and in a very short time reached the jail, saw
+the jailer, and presented his letter.
+
+The latter, on perusing it, surveyed him with the scrutiny of a man
+whose eye was practised in scanning offenders.
+
+Phelim, whilst the jailer examined him, surveyed the strong and massy
+bolts with which every door and hatchway was secured. Their appearance
+produced rather an uncomfortable sensation in him; so much so, that
+when the jailer asked him his name, he thought it more prudent, in
+consequence of a touch of conscience he had, to personate Art for the
+present, inasmuch as he felt it impossible to assume any name more safe
+than that of an idiot.
+
+"My name is Art Maguire," said he in reply to the jailer. "I'm messenger
+to Square S----, the one he had was discharged on Friday last. I expect
+soon to be made groom, too."
+
+"Come this way," said the jailer, "and you shall have an answer."
+
+He brought Phelim into the prison-yard, where he remained for about
+twenty minutes, laboring under impressions which he felt becoming
+gradually more unpleasant. His anxiety was not lessened on perceiving
+twenty or thirty culprits, under the management of the turnkeys, enter
+the yard, where they were drawn up in a line, like a file of soldiers.
+
+"What's your name?" said one of the turnkeys.
+
+"Art Maguire," replied Phelim.
+
+"Stand here," said the other, shoving him among the prisoners. "Keep
+your head up, you villain, an' don't be ashamed to look your friends in
+the face. It won't be hard to identify you, at any rate, you scoundrel.
+A glimpse of that phiz, even by starlight, would do you, you dog. Jack,
+tell Mr. S. to bring in the gintlemen--they're all ready."
+
+Phelim's dismay on finding himself under drill with such a villainous
+crew was indescribable. He attempted to parley with the turnkey, but was
+near feeling the weight of his heavy keys for daring to approach a man
+placed in authority.
+
+While thus chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy, three gentlemen,
+accompanied by the jailer, entered the yard, and walked backward and
+forward in front of the prisoners, whose faces and persons they examined
+with great care. For a considerable time they could not recognize any
+of them; but just as they were about to give up the scrutiny, one of the
+gentlemen approached Phelim, and looking narrowly into his countenance,
+exclaimed,
+
+"Here, jailer, this man I identify. I can-not be mistaken in his face;
+the rough visage and drooping eye of that fellow put all doubt as to his
+identity out of question. What's his' name?"
+
+"He gives his name, sir, as Arthur Maguire."
+
+"Arthur what, sir?" said another of the turnkeys, looking earnestly
+at Phelim. "Why, sir, this is the fellow that swore the alibis for the
+Kellys--ay, an' for the Delaneys, an' for the O'Briens. His name is
+Phelim O'Toole; an' a purty boy he is, by all report."
+
+Phelim, though his heart sank within him, attempted to banter them out
+of their bad opinion of him; but there was something peculiarly dismal
+and melancholy in his mirth.
+
+"Why, gintlemen--ha, ha!--be gorra, I'd take it as a convanience--I
+mane, as a favor--if you'd believe me that there's a small taste of
+mistake here. I was sent by Square S. wid a letter to Mr. S-----t, an'
+he gave me fifty ordhers to bring him back an answer this day. As for
+Phelim O'Toole, if you mane the rascal that swears the alibis, faith, I
+can't deny but I'm as like him, the villain, as one egg is to another.
+Bad luck to his 'dhroop,' any how; little I thought that it would ever
+bring me into throuble--ha, ha, ha! Mr. S------t, what answer have you
+for the Square, sir? Bedad, I'm afeard I'll be late."
+
+"That letter, Master Maguire, or Toole, or whatever your name is,
+authorizes me to detain you as a prisoner, until I hear further from Mr.
+S."
+
+"I identify him distinctly," said the gentleman, once more. "I neither
+doubt nor waver on the subject; so you will do right to detain him. I
+shall lodge information against him immediately."
+
+"Sir," said Phelim to the jailer, "the Square couldn't mane me at all,
+in regard that it was another person he gave the letter to, for to bring
+to you, the other person gave it to me. I can make my oath of that. Be
+gorra, you're playin' your thrieks upon sthrangers now, I suppose."
+
+"Why, you lying rascal," said the jailer, "have you not a few minutes
+ago asserted to the contrary? Did you not tell me that your name was
+Arthur, or Art Maguire? That you are Mr. S.'s messenger, and expect to
+be made his groom. And now you deny all this."
+
+"He's Phelim O'Toole," said the turnkey, "I'll swear to him; but if you
+wait for a minute, I'll soon prove it."
+
+He immediately retired to the cell of a convict, whom he knew to be from
+the townland of Teernarogarah: and ordering its inmate to look through
+the bars of his window, which commanded the yard, he asked him if there
+was any one among them whom he knew.
+
+The fellow in a few minutes replied, "Whethen, divil a one, barrin'
+bouncin' Phelim O'Toole."
+
+The turnkey brought him down to the yard, where he immediately
+recognized Phelim as an old friend, shook hands with him, and addressed
+him by his name.
+
+"Bad luck to you," said Phelim in Irish, "is this a place to welcome
+your friends to!"
+
+"There is some mystery here," said the jailer. "I suppose the fact is,
+that this fellow returned a wrong name to Mr. S., and that that accounts
+for the name of Arthur Maguire being in the letter."
+
+All Phelim's attempts to extricate himself were useless. He gave them
+the proper version of the letter affair with Fool Art, but without
+making the slightest impression. The jailer desired him to be locked up.
+
+"Divil fire you all, you villains!" exclaimed Phelim, "is it goin' to put
+me in crib ye are for no rason in life? Doesn't the whole parish
+know that I was never off o' my bed for the last three months, wid a
+complaint I had, until widin two or three days agone!"
+
+"There are two excellent motives for putting you in crib," said the
+jailer; "but if you can prove that you have been confined to your bed so
+long as you say, why it will be all the better for yourself. Go with the
+turnkey."
+
+"No, tarenation to the fut I'll go," said Phelim, "till I'm carried."
+
+"Doesn't the gintleman identify you, you villain," replied one of the
+turnkeys; "an' isn't the Square's letther in your favor?"
+
+"Villain, is id!" exclaimed Phelim. "An' from a hangman's cousin, too,
+we're to bear this!--eh? Take that, anyhow, an' maybe you'll get more
+when you don't expect it. Whoo! Success, Phelim! There's blood in you
+still, abouchal!"
+
+He accompanied the words by a spring of triumph from the ground, and
+surveyed the already senseless turnkey with exultation. In a moment,
+however, he was secured, for the purpose of being put into strong irons.
+
+"To the devil's warmin' pan wid ye all," he continued, "you may do your
+worst. I defy you. Ha! by the heavens above me, you'll suffer for
+this, my fine gintleman. What can ye do but hang or thransport me, you
+villains? I tell ye, if a man's sowl had a crust of sin on it a foot
+thick, the best way to get it off 'ud be jist to shoot a dozen like you.
+Sin! Oh, the divil saize the sin at all in it. But wait! Did ye ever
+hear of a man they call Dan O'Connell? Be my sowl, he'll make yez rub
+your heels together, for keepin' an innocent boy in jail, that there's
+no law or no warrant out for. This is the way we're thrated by thim
+that's ridin' rough shod over us. But have a taste o' patience, ye
+scoundrels! It won't last, I can tell yez. Our day will soon come, an'
+thin I'd recommend yez to thravel for your health. Hell saize the day's
+pace or happiness ever will be seen in the country, till laws, an'
+judges, an' Jries, an' jails, an' jailers, an' turnkeys, an' hangmen is
+all swep out of it. Saize the day. An' along wid them goes the parsons,
+procthors, tithes an' taxes, all to the devil together. That day's not
+very far off, d----d villains! An' now I tell ye, that if a hair o' my
+head's touched--ay, if I was hanged to-morrow--I'd lave them behind me
+that 'ud put a bullet, wid the help an' blessin' O Grod, through any one
+that'll injure me! So lay that to your conscience, an' do your best. Be
+the crass, O'Connell I'll make you look nine ways at wanst for this!
+He's the boy can put the pin in your noses! He's the boy can make yez
+thrimble, one an' all o' yez--like a dog in a wet sack! An', wid the
+blessin' o' God, he'll help us to put our feet on your necks afore
+long!"
+
+"That's a prudent speech," observed the jailer; "it will serve you very
+much."
+
+Phelim consigned him to a very warm settlement in reply.
+
+"Bring the ruffian off" added the jailer; "put him in solitary
+confinement."
+
+"Put me wid Foodie Flattery," said Phelim; "you've got him here,
+an' I'll go nowhere else. Faith, you'll suffer for givin' me false
+imprisonment. Doesn't O'Connell's name make you shake? Put me wid Foodie
+Flattery, I say."
+
+"Foodie Flattery! There is no such man here. Have you got such a person
+here?" inquired the jailer of the turnkey.
+
+"Not at present," said the turnkey; "but I know Foodie well. We've had
+him here twice. Come away, Phelim; follow me; you're goin' to be put
+where you'll have an opportunity of sayin' your prayers."
+
+He then ushered Phelim to a cell, where the reader may easily imagine
+what he felt. His patriotism rose to a high pitch; he deplored the
+wrongs of his country bitterly, and was clearly convinced that until
+jails, judges, and assizes, together with a long train of similar
+grievances, were utterly abolished, Ireland could never be right, nor
+persecuted "boys," like himself, at full liberty to burn or murder the
+enemies of their country with impunity. Notwithstanding these heroic
+sentiments, an indifferent round oath more than once escaped him against
+Ribbonism in whole and in part. He cursed the system, and the day, and
+the hour on which he was inveigled into it. He cursed those who had
+initiated him; nor did his father and mother escape for their neglect
+of his habits, his morals, and his education. This occurred when he had
+time for reflection. Whilst thus dispensing his execrations, the jailer
+and the three gentlemen, having been struck with his allusion to Foodie
+Flattery, and remembering that Foodie was of indifferent morals, came to
+the unanimous opinion that it would be a good plan to secure him; and by
+informing him that Phelim was in prison upon a capital charge, endeavor
+to work upon his fears, by representing his companion as disposed
+to turn approver. The state of the country, and Foodie's character,
+justified his apprehension on suspicion. He was accordingly taken,
+and when certified of Phelim's situation, acted precisely as had been
+expected. With very little hesitation, he made a full disclosure of the
+names of several persons concerned in burnings, waylayings, and robbery
+of arms. The two first names on the list were those of Phelim and
+Appleton, with several besides, some of whom bore an excellent, and
+others an execrable, character in the country.
+
+The next day Fool Art went to Larry's, where he understood that Phelim
+was on the missing list. This justified his suspicions of the Squire;
+but by no means lessened his bitterness against him, for the prank
+he had intended to play upon him. With great simplicity, he presented
+himself at the Big House, and met its owner on the lawn, accompanied by
+two other gentlemen. The magistrate was somewhat surprised at seeing Art
+at large, when he imagined him to be under the jailer's lock and key.
+
+"Well, Art," said he, concealing his amazement, "did you deliver my
+letter?"
+
+"It went safe, your honor," replied Art. "Did you yourself give it into
+his hands, as I ordered you?"
+
+"Whoo! Be dodda, would your honor think Art 'ud tell a lie? Sure he read
+it. Aha!"
+
+"An' what did he say, Art?"
+
+"Whoo! Why, that he didn't know which of us had the least sense. You for
+sendin' a fool on a message, or me for deliverin' it."
+
+"Was that all that happened?"
+
+"No, sir. He said," added the fool, with bitter sarcasm, alluding to
+a duel, in which the Squire's character had not come off with flying
+colors--"he said, sir, that whin you have another challenge to fight,
+you may get sick agin for threepence to the poticarry."
+
+This having been the manner in which the Squire was said to have evaded
+the duel, it is unnecessary to say that Art's readiness to refresh his
+memory on the subject prevented him from being received at the Big House
+in future.
+
+Reader, remember that we only intended to give you a sketch of Phelim
+O'Toole's courtship. We will, however, go so far beyond our original
+plan, as to apprise you of his fate.
+
+When it became known in the parish that he was in jail, under a charge
+of felony, Sally Mattery abandoned all hopes of securing him as a
+husband. The housekeeper felt suitable distress, and hoped, should the
+poor boy be acquitted, that he might hould up his head wid any o' them.
+Phelim, through the agency of his father, succeeded in getting ten
+guineas from her, to pay the lawyers for defending him; not one penny of
+which he applied to the purpose for which he obtained it. The expenses
+of his defence were drawn from the Ribbon fund, and the Irish reader
+cannot forget the eloquent and pathetic, appeal made by his counsel to
+the jury, on his behalf, and the strength with which the fact of his
+being the whole support of a helpless father and mother was stated.
+The appeal, however, was ineffectual; worthy Phelim was convicted, and
+sentenced to transportation for life. When his old acquaintances heard
+the nature of his destiny, they remembered the two prophecies that
+had been so often uttered concerning him. One of them was certainly
+fulfilled to the letter--we mean that in which it was stated, "that the
+greatest swaggerer among the girls generally comes to the wall at last."
+The other, though not literally accomplished, was touched at least upon
+the spirit; transportation for life ranks next to hanging. We,cannot
+avoid mentioning a fact connected with Phelim which came to light while
+he remained in prison. By incessant trouble he was prevailed upon, or
+rather compelled, to attend the prison school, and on examining him,
+touching his religion? knowledge, it appeared that he was ignorant of
+the plainest truths of Christianity; that he knew not how or by whom the
+Christian religion had been promulgated; nor, indeed, any other moral
+truth connected with Revelation.
+
+Immediately after his transportation, Larry took to drink, and his
+mother to begging, for she had no other means of living. In this mode
+of life, the husband was soon compelled to join her. They are both
+mendicants, and Sheelah now appears sensible of the error in their
+manner of bringing Phelim up.
+
+"Ah! Larry," she is sometimes heard to say, "I doubt that we wor wrong
+for flyin' in the face o' God, becase He didn't give us childhre. An'
+when it plased Him to grant us a son, we oughtn't to 've spoiled him by
+over-indulgence, an' by lettin' him have his own head in everythin'
+as we did. If we had sint him to school, an' larned him to work, an'
+corrected him when he desarved it, instead of laughin' at his lies, an'
+misbehavior, and his oaths, as if they wor sport--ay, an abusin' the
+nabors when they'd complain of him, or tell us what he was--ay!--if we
+had, it's a credit an' a comfort he'd be to us now, an' not a shame an'
+a disgrace, an' an affliction. We made our own bed, Larry, an' now we
+must lie down an it. An' God help us! We made his bed too, poor boy, an'
+a hard one it is. God forgive us! but, anyhow, my heart a breakin', for
+bad as he was, sure we havn't him to look upon!"
+
+"Thrue," replied Larry. "Still he was game an' cute to the last. Biddy
+Doran's ten guineas will sarve him beyant, poor fellow. But sure the
+boys' kep their word to him, anyhow, in regard of shootin' Foodie
+Flattery. Myself was never betther plased in my life, than to hear that
+he got the slugs into his heart, the villain!"
+
+*****
+
+We have attempted to draw Phelim O'Toole as closely as possible to the
+character of that class, whose ignorance, want of education and absence
+of all moral principle, constitute them the shame and reproach of
+the country. By such men the peace of Ireland is destroyed, illegal
+combinations formed, blood shed, and nightly outrages committed. There
+is nothing more certain than this plain truth, that if proper religious
+and moral knowledge were impressed upon the early principles of persons
+like Phelim, a conscience would be created capable of revolting from
+crime. Whatever the grievances of a people may be, whether real or
+imaginary, one thing is clear, that neither murder nor illegal violence
+of any description, can be the proper mode of removing or redressing
+them. We have kept Phelim's Ribbonism in the background, because its
+details could excite only aversion, and preferred exhibiting his utter
+ignorance of morality upon a less offensive subject, in order that the
+reader might be enabled to infer, rather than to witness with his mind's
+eye, the deeper crimes of which he was capable.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+WILDGOOSE LODGE
+
+
+I had read the anonymous summons, but from its general import I believed
+it to be one of those special meetings convened for some purpose
+affecting the usual objects and proceedings of the body; at least
+the terms in which it was conveyed to me had nothing extraordinary or
+mysterious in them, beyond the simple fact, that it was not to be a
+general but a select meeting: this mark of confidence flattered me, and
+I determined to attend punctually. I was, it is true, desired to keep
+the circumstances entirely to myself, but there was nothing startling
+in this, for I had often received summonses of a similar nature.
+I therefore resolved to attend, according to the letter of my
+instructions, "on the next night, at the solemn hour of midnight,
+to deliberate and act upon such matters as should then and there be
+submitted to my consideration." The morning after I received this
+message, I arose and resumed my usual occupations; but, from whatever
+cause it may have proceeded, I felt a sense of approaching evil hang
+heavily upon me; the beats of my pulse were languid, and an undefinable
+feeling of anxiety pervaded my whole spirit; even my face was pale, and
+my eye so heavy, that my father and brothers concluded me to be ill; an
+opinion which I thought at the time to be correct, for I felt exactly
+that kind of depression which precedes a severe fever. I could not
+understand what I experienced, nor can I yet, except by supposing that
+there is in human nature some mysterious faculty, by which, in coming
+calamities, the dread of some fearful evil is anticipated, and that it
+is possible to catch a dark presentiment of the sensations which they
+subsequently produce. For my part I can neither analyze nor define it;
+but on that day I knew it by painful experience, and so have a thousand
+others in similar circumstances.
+
+It was about the middle of winter. The day was gloomy and tempestuous,
+almost beyond any other I remember; dark clouds rolled over the hills
+about me, and a close sleet-like rain fell in slanting drifts that
+chased each other rapidly towards the earth on the course of the blast.
+The outlying cattle sought the closest and calmest corners of the fields
+for shelter; the trees and young groves were tossed about, for the wind
+was so unusually high that it swept in hollow gusts through them, with
+that hoarse murmur which deepens so powerfully on the mind the sense of
+dreariness and desolation.
+
+As the shades of night fell, the storm, if possible, increased. The moon
+was half gone, and only a few stars were visible by glimpses, as a rush
+of wind left a temporary opening in the sky. I had determined, if the
+storm should not abate, to incur any penalty rather than attend the
+meeting; but the appointed hour was distant, and I resolved to be
+decided by the future state of the night.
+
+Ten o'clock came, but still there was no change: eleven passed, and on
+opening the door to observe if there were any likelihood of its clearing
+up, a blast of wind, mingled with rain, nearly blew me off my feet. At
+length it was approaching to the hour of midnight; and on examining it a
+third time, I found it had calmed a little, and no longer rained.
+
+I instantly got my oak stick, muffled myself in my great coat, strapped
+my hat about my ears, and, as the place of meeting was only a quarter of
+a mile distant, I presently set out.
+
+The appearance of the heavens was lowering and angry, particularly in
+that point where the light of the moon fell against the clouds, from a
+seeming chasm in them, through which alone she was visible. The edges of
+this chasm were faintly bronzed, but the dense body of the masses that
+hung piled on each side of her, was black and inpenetrable to sight. In
+no other point of the heavens was there any part of the sky visible;
+a deep veil of clouds overhung the whole horizon, yet was the light
+sufficient to give occasional glimpses of the rapid shifting which took
+place in this dark canopy, and of the tempestuous agitation with which
+the midnight storm swept to and fro beneath it.
+
+At length I arrived at a long slated house, situated in a solitary part
+of the neighborhood; a little below it ran a small stream, which was
+now swollen above its banks, and rushing with mimic roar over the flat
+meadows beside it. The appearance of the bare slated building in such
+a night was particularly sombre, and to those, like me, who knew the
+purpose to which it was usually devoted, it was or ought to have been
+peculiarly so. There it stood, silent and gloomy, without any appearance
+of human life or enjoyment about or within it. As I approached, the moon
+once more had broken out of the clouds, and shone dimly upon the wet,
+glittering slates and windows, with a death-like lustre, that gradually
+faded away as I left the point of observation, and entered the
+folding-door. It was the parish chapel.
+
+The scene which presented itself here was in keeping not only with the
+external appearance of the house, but with the darkness, the storm, and
+the hour, which was now a little after midnight. About forty persons
+were sitting in dead silence upon the circular steps of the altar. They
+did not seem to move; and as I entered and advanced, the echo of my
+footsteps rang through the building with a lonely distinctness, which
+added to the solemnity and mystery of the circumstances about me. The
+windows were secured with shutters on the inside, and on the altar a
+candle was lighted, which burned dimly amid the surrounding darkness,
+and lengthened the shadow of the altar itself, and those of six or
+seven persons who stood on its upper steps, until they mingled in the
+obscurity which shrouded the lower end of the chapel. The faces of the
+men who sat on the altar steps were not distinctly visible, yet their
+prominent and more characteristic features were in sufficient relief,
+and I observed, that some of the most malignant and reckless spirits in
+the parish were assembled. In the eyes of those who stood at the altar,
+and those whom I knew to be invested with authority over the others, I
+could perceive gleams of some latent and ferocious purpose, kindled,
+as I soon observed, into a fiercer expression of vengeance, by the
+additional excitement of ardent spirits, with which they had stimulated
+themselves to a point of determination that mocked at the apprehension
+of all future responsibility, either in this world or the next.
+
+The welcome which I received on joining them was far different from
+the boisterous good-humor that used to mark our greetings on other
+occasions; just a nod of the head from this or that person, on the part
+of those who sat, with a _dhud dhemur tha fhu?_ (* How are you?) in a
+suppressed voice, even below a common whisper: but from the standing
+group, who were evidently the projectors of the enterprise, I received
+a convulsive grasp of the hand, accompanied by a fierce and desperate
+look, that seemed to search my eye and countenance, to try if I were a
+person likely to shrink from whatever they had resolved to execute.
+It is surprising to think of the powerful expression which a moment of
+intense interest or great danger is capable of giving to the eye, the
+features and the slightest actions, especially in those whose station
+in society does not require them to constrain nature, by the force of
+social courtesies, into habits that conceal their natural emotions.
+None of the standing group spoke; but as each of them wrung my hand
+in silence, his eye was fixed on mine, with an expression of drunken
+confidence and secrecy, and an insolent determination not to be gainsaid
+without peril. If looks could be translated with certainty, they seemed
+to say, "We are bound upon a project of vengeance, and if you do not
+join us, remember we can revenge." Along with this grasp, they did not
+forget to remind me of the common bond by which we were united, for
+each man gave me the secret grip of Ribbonism in a manner that made the
+joints of my fingers ache for some minutes afterwards.
+
+There was one present, however--the highest in authority--whose actions
+and demeanor were calm and unexcited. He seemed to labor under no
+unusual influence whatever, but evinced a serenity so placid and
+philosophical, that I attributed the silence of the sitting group, and
+the restraint which curbed in the outbreaking passions of those who
+stood, entirely to his presence. He was a schoolmaster, who taught his
+daily school in that chapel, and acted also on Sunday, in the capacity
+of clerk to the priest--an excellent and amiable old man, who knew
+little of his illegal connections and atrocious conduct.
+
+When the ceremonies of brotherly recognition and friendship were past,
+the Captain (by which title I shall designate the last-mentioned person)
+stooped, and, raising a jar of whiskey on the corner of the altar, held
+a wineglass to its neck, which he filled, and with a calm nod handed
+it to me to drink. I shrank back, with an instinctive horror, at the
+profaneness of such an act, in the house, and on the altar of God, and
+peremptorily refused to taste the proffered I draught. He smiled mildly
+at what he considered my superstition, and added quietly, and in a low
+voice, "You'll be wantin' it I'm thinkin', afther the wettin' you
+got."
+
+"Wet or dry," said I--
+
+"Stop, man!" he replied, in the same tone; "spake low. But why wouldn't
+you take the whiskey? Sure there's as holy people to the fore as you:
+didn't they all take it? An' I wish we may never do worse nor dhrink a
+harmless glass o' whiskey, to keep the cowld out, any way."
+
+"Well," said I, "I'll jist trust to God and the consequences, for the
+cowld, Paddy, ma bouchal; but a blessed dhrop of it won't be crossin' my
+lips, avick; so no more ghostlier about it;--dhrink it yourself if you
+like. Maybe you want it as much as I do; wherein I've the patthern of
+a good big-coat upon me, so thick, your sowl, that if it was rainin'
+bullocks, a dhrop wouldn't get undher the nap of it."
+
+He gave me a calm, but keen glance as I spoke.
+
+"Well, Jim," said he, "it's a good comrade you've got for the weather
+that's in it; but, in the manetime, to set you a dacent patthern, I'll
+just take this myself,"--saying which, with the jar still upon its
+side, and the fore-finger of his left hand in his neck, he swallowed
+the spirits--"It's the first I dhrank to-night," he added, "nor would
+I dhrink it now, only to show you that I've heart an' spirit to do the
+thing that we're all bound an' sworn to, when the proper time comes;"
+after which he laid down the glass, and turned up the jar, with much
+coolness, upon the altar.
+
+During our conversation, those who had been summoned to this mysterious
+meeting were pouring in fast; and as each person approached the altar,
+he received from one to two or three glasses of whiskey, according as he
+chose to limit himself; but, to do them justice, there were not a few
+of those present, who, in despite of their own desire, and the Captain's
+express invitation, refused to taste it in the house of God's worship.
+Such, however, as were scrupulous he afterwards recommended to take it
+on the outside of the chapel door, which they did, as, by that means,
+the sacrilege of the act was supposed to be evaded.
+
+About one o'clock they were all assembled except six: at least so the
+Captain asserted, on looking at a written paper.
+
+"Now, boys," said he in the same low voice, "we are all present except
+the thraitors, whose names I am goin' to read to you; not that we are to
+count thim thraitors, till we know whether or not it was in their power
+to come. Any how, the night's terrible--but, boys, you're to know, that
+neither fire nor wather is to prevint you, when duly summoned to attind
+a meeting--particularly whin the summons is widout a name, as you have
+been told that there is always something of consequence to be done
+thin."
+
+He then read out the names of those who were absent, in order that the
+real cause of their absence might be ascertained, declaring that they
+would be dealt with accordingly. |
+
+After this, with his usual caution, he shut and bolted the door, and
+having put the key in his pocket, ascended the steps of the altar,
+and for some time traversed the little platform from which the priest
+usually addresses the congregation.
+
+Until this night I had never contemplated the man's countenance with any
+particular interest; but as he walked the platform, I had an opportunity
+of observing him more closely. He was slight in person, apparently not
+thirty; and, on a first view, appeared to have nothing remarkable in his
+dress or features. I, however, was not the only person whose eyes were
+fixed upon him at that moment; in fact, every one present observed him
+with equal interest, for hitherto he had kept the object of the meeting
+perfectly secret, and of course we all felt anxious to know it. It was
+while he traversed the platform that I scrutinized his features with a
+hope, if possible, to glean from them some evidence of what was passing
+within him. I could, however, mark but little, and that little was at
+first rather from the intelligence which seemed to subsist between him
+and those whom I have already mentioned as standing against the altar,
+than from any indication of his own. Their gleaming eyes were fixed upon
+him with an intensity of savage and demon-like hope, which blazed out in
+flashes of malignant triumph, as upon turning, he threw a cool but rapid
+glance at them, to intimate the progress he was making in the subject to
+which he devoted the undivided energies of his mind. But in the course
+of his meditation, I could observe, on one or two occasions, a dark
+shade come over his countenance, that contracted his brow into a deep
+furrow, and it was then, for the first time, that I saw the satanic
+expression of which his face, by a very slight motion of its muscles,
+was capable. His hands, during this silence, closed and opened
+convulsively; his eyes shot out two or three baleful glances, first to
+his confederates, and afterwards vacantly into the deep gloom of the
+lower part of the chapel; his teeth ground against each other, like
+those of a man whose revenge burns to reach a distant enemy, and
+finally, after having wound himself up to a certain determination, his
+features relapsed into their original calm and undisturbed expression.
+
+At this moment a loud laugh, having something supernatural in it, rang
+out wildly from the darkness of the chapel; he stopped, and putting his
+open hand over his brows, peered down into the gloom, and said calmly in
+Irish, "_Bee dhu husth; ha nih anam inh_:--hold your tongue, it is not
+yet time."
+
+Every eye was now directed to the same spot, but, in consequence of its
+distance from the dim light on the altar, none could perceive the person
+from whom the laugh proceeded. It was, by this time, near two o'clock in
+the morning.
+
+He now stood for a few moments on the platform, and his chest heaved
+with a depth of anxiety equal to the difficulty of the design he wished
+to accomplish.
+
+"Brothers," said he--"for we are all brothers--sworn upon all that's
+blessed an' holy, to obey whatever them that's over us, manin' among
+ourselves, wishes us to do--are you now ready, in the name of God, upon
+whose althar I stand, to fulfil yer oaths?"
+
+The words were scarcely uttered, when those who had stood beside the
+altar during the night, sprang from their places, and descending its
+steps rapidly turned round, and raising their arms, exclaimed, "By all
+that's good an' holy we're willin'."
+
+In the meantime, those who sat upon the steps of the altar, instantly
+rose, and following the example of those who had just spoken, exclaimed
+after them, "To be sure--by all that's sacred an' holy we're willin'."
+
+"Now, boys," said the Captain, "ar'n't ye big fools for your pains? an'
+one of ye doesn't know what I mane."
+
+"You're our Captain," said one of those who had stood at the altar, "an'
+has yer ordhers from higher quarthers; of coorse, whatever ye command
+upon us we're bound to obey you in."
+
+"Well," said he, smiling, "I only wanted to thry yez; an' by the oath
+ye tuck, there's not a captain in the county has as good a right to be
+proud of his min as I have. Well, ye won't rue it, maybe, when the right
+time comes; and for that same rason every one of ye must have a glass
+from the jar; thim that won't dhrink it in the chapel can dhrink it
+widout; an' here goes to open the door for thim."
+
+He then distributed another glass to every one who would accept it, and
+brought the jar afterwards to the chapel door, to satisfy the scruples
+of those who would not drink within. When this was performed, and all
+duly excited, he proceeded:--
+
+"Now, brothers, you are solemnly sworn to obay me, and I'm sure there's
+no thraithur here that 'ud parjure himself for a thrifle; but I'm sworn
+to obay them that's above me, manin' still among ourselves; an' to show
+that I don't scruple to do it, here goes!"
+
+He then turned round, and taking the Missal between his hands placed it
+upon the altar. Hitherto every word was uttered in a low precautionary
+tone; but on grasping the book he again turned round, and looking upon
+his confederates with the same satanic expression which marked his
+countenance before, he exclaimed, in a voice of deep determination,
+first kissing the book!
+
+
+[Illustration: PAGE WG939-- By this sacred an' holy book of God]
+
+
+
+"By this sacred an' holy book of God, I will perform the action which we
+have met this night to accomplish, be that what it may; an' this I swear
+upon God's book, and God's althar!"
+
+On concluding, he struck the book violently with his open hand, thereby
+occasioning a very loud report.
+
+At this moment the candle which burned before him went suddenly out, and
+the chapel was wrapped in pitchy darkness; the sound as if of rushing
+wings fell upon our ears, and fifty voices dwelt upon the last words of
+his oath with wild and supernatural tones, that seemed to echo and to
+mock what he had sworn. There was a pause, and an exclamation of
+horror from all present; but the Captain was too cool and steady to be
+disconcerted. He immediately groped about until he got the candle,
+and proceeding calmly to a remote corner of the chapel, took up a
+half-burned peat which lay there, and after some trouble succeeded in
+lighting it again. He then explained what had taken place; which indeed
+was easily done, as the candle happened to be extinguished by a pigeon
+which sat directly above it. The chapel, I should have observed, was at
+this time, like many country chapels, unfinished inside, and the pigeons
+of a neighboring dove-cot had built nests among the rafters of the
+unceiled roof; which circumstance also explained the rushing of the
+wings, for the birds had been affrighted by the sudden loudness of
+the noise. The mocking voices were nothing but the echoes, rendered
+naturally more awful by the scene, the mysterious object of the meeting,
+and the solemn hour of the night.
+
+When the candle was again lighted, and these startling circumstances
+accounted for, the persons whose vengeance had been deepening more and
+more during the night, rushed to the altar in a body, where each, in
+a voice trembling with passionate eagerness, repeated the oath, and as
+every word was pronounced, the same echoes heightened the wildness
+of the horrible ceremony, by their long and unearthly tones. The
+countenances of these human tigers were livid with suppressed rage;
+their knit brows, compressed lips, and kindled eyes, fell under the dim
+light of the taper, with an expression calculated to sicken any heart
+not absolutely diabolical.
+
+As soon as this dreadful rite was completed, we were again startled by
+several loud bursts of laughter, which proceeded from the lower darkness
+of the chapel; and the Captain, on hearing them, turned to the
+place, and reflecting for a moment, said in Irish, "_Gutsho nish,
+avohenee_--come hither now, boys."
+
+A rush immediately took place from the corner in which they had secreted
+themselves all the night; and seven men appeared, whom we instantly
+recognized as brothers and cousins of certain persons who had been
+convicted, some time before, for breaking into the house of an honest
+poor man in the neighborhood, from whom, after having treated him with
+barbarous violence, they took away such fire-arms as he kept for his own
+protection.
+
+It was evidently not the Captain's intention to have produced these
+persons until the oath should have been generally taken, but the
+exulting mirth with which they enjoyed the success of his scheme
+betrayed them, and put him to the necessity of bringing them forward
+somewhat before the concerted moment.
+
+The scene which now took place was beyond all power of description;
+peals of wild, fiendlike yells rang through the chapel, as the party
+which stood on the altar and that which had crouched in the darkness
+met; wringing of hands, leaping in triumph, striking of sticks and
+fire-arms against the ground and the altar itself, dancing and cracking
+of fingers, marked the triumph of some hellish determination. Even the
+Captain for a time was unable to restrain their fury; but, at length, he
+mounted the platform before the altar once more, and with a stamp of his
+foot, recalled their attention to himself and the matter in hand.
+
+"Boys," said he, "enough of this, and too much; an' well for us it is
+that the chapel is in a lonely place, or our foolish noise might do us
+no good. Let thim that swore so manfully jist now, stand a one side,
+till the rest kiss the book one by one."
+
+The proceedings, however, had by this time taken too fearful a shape for
+even the Captain to compel them to a blindfold oath; the first man he
+called flatly refused to answer, until he should hear the nature of the
+service that was required. This was echoed by the remainder, who, taking
+courage from the firmness of this person, declared generally that, until
+they first knew the business they were to execute, none of them would
+take the oath. The Captain's lip quivered slightly, and his brow again
+became knit with the same hellish expression, which I have remarked
+gave him so much the appearance of an, embodied fiend; but this speedily
+passed away, and was succeeded by a malignant sneer, in which lurked,
+if there ever did in a sneer, "a laughing devil," calmly, determinedly
+atrocious.
+
+"It wasn't worth yer whiles to refuse the oath," said he, mildly, "for
+the truth is, I had next to nothing for yez to do. Not a hand, maybe,
+would have to rise, only jist to look on, an' if any resistance would
+be made, to show yourselves; yer numbers would soon make them see
+that resistance would be, no use whatever in the present case. At all,
+evints, the oath of secrecy must be taken, or woe be to him that will
+refuse that; he won't know the day, nor the hour, nor the minute, when
+he'll be made a spatch-cock of."
+
+He then turned round, and, placing his right hand on the Missal, swore,
+"In the presence of God, and before his holy altar, that whatever might
+take place that night he would keep secret, from man or mortal, except
+the priest, and that neither bribery, nor imprisonment, nor death, would
+wring it from his heart."
+
+Having done this, he again struck the book violently, as if to confirm
+the energy with which he swore, and then calmly descending the steps,
+stood with a serene countenance, like a man conscious of having
+performed a good action. As this oath did not pledge those who refused
+to take the other to the perpetration of any specific crime, it was
+readily taken by all present. Preparations were then made to execute
+what was intended: the half burned turf was placed in a little pot;
+another glass of whiskey was distributed; and the door being locked
+by the Captain, who kept the key as parish clerk and schoolmaster, the
+crowd departed silently from the chapel.
+
+The moment those who lay in the darkness, during the night, made their
+appearance at the altar, we knew at once the persons we were to visit;
+for, as I said before, they were related to the miscreants whom one of
+those persons had convicted, in consequences of their midnight attack
+upon himself and his family. The Captain's object in keeping them unseen
+was, that those present, not being aware of the duty about to be imposed
+on them, might have less hesitation about swearing to its fulfilment.
+Our conjectures were correct; for on leaving the chapel we directed our
+steps to the house in which this devoted man resided.
+
+The night was still stormy, but without rain: it was rather dark, too,
+though not so as to prevent us from seeing the clouds careering swiftly
+through the air. The dense curtain which had overhung and obscured the
+horizon was now broken, and large sections of the sky were clear, and
+thinly studded with stars that looked dim and watery, as did indeed the
+whole firmament; for in some places black clouds were still visible,
+threatening a continuance of tempestuous weather. The road appeared
+washed and gravelly; every dike was full of yellow water; and every
+little rivulet and larger stream dashed its hoarse murmur into our ears;
+every blast, too, was cold, fierce, and wintry, sometimes driving us
+back to a standstill, and again, when a turn in the road would bring
+it in our backs, whirling us along for a few steps with involuntary
+rapidity. At length the fated dwelling became visible, and a short
+consultation was held in a sheltered place, between the Captain and the
+two parties who seemed so eager for its destruction. Their fire-arms
+were now loaded, and their bayonets and short pikes, the latter shod and
+pointed with iron, were also got ready. The live coal which was brought
+in the small pot had become extinguished; but to remedy this, two or
+three persons from a remote part of the county entered a cabin on the
+wayside, and, under pretence of lighting their own and their comrades'
+pipes, procured a coal of fire, for so they called a lighted turf. From
+the time we left the chapel until this moment a profound silence had
+been maintained, a circumstance which, when I considered the number of
+persons present, and the mysterious and dreaded object of their journey,
+had a most appalling effect upon my spirits.
+
+At length we arrived within fifty perches of the house, walking in a
+compact body, and with as little noise as possible; but it seemed as
+if the very elements had conspired to frustrate our design, for on
+advancing within the shade of the farm-hedge, two or three persons found
+themselves up to the middle in water, and on stooping to ascertain more
+accurately the state of the place, we could see nothing but one immense
+sheet of it--spread like a lake over the meadows which surrounded the
+spot we wished to reach.
+
+Fatal night! The very recollection of it, when associated with the
+fearful tempests of elements, grows, if that were possible, yet more
+wild and revolting. Had we been engaged in any innocent or benevolent
+enterprise, there was something in our situation just then that had a
+touch of interest in it to a mind imbued with a relish for the savage
+beauties of nature. There we stood, about a hundred and thirty in
+number, our dark forms bent forward, peering into the dusky expanse of
+water, with its dim gleams of reflected light, broken by the weltering
+of the mimic waves into ten thousand fragments, whilst the few stars
+that overhung it in the firmament appeared to shoot through it in broken
+lines, and to be multiplied fifty-fold in the gloomy mirror on which we
+gazed.
+
+Over us was a stormy sky, and around us; a darkness through which we
+could only distinguish, in outline, the nearest objects, whilst the wild
+wind swept strongly and dismally upon us. When it was discovered that
+the common pathway to the house was inundated, we were about to abandon
+our object and return home. The Captain, however, stooped down low for
+a moment, and, almost closing his eyes, looked along the surface of the
+waters; and then, rising himself very calmly, said, in his usually quiet
+tone, "Ye needn't go back, boys, I've found a way; jist follow me."
+
+He immediately took a more circuitous direction, by which we reached a
+causeway that had been raised for the purpose of giving a free passage
+to and from the house, during such inundations as the present. Along
+this we had advanced more than half way, when we discovered a breach
+in it, which, as afterwards appeared, had that night been made by the
+strength of the flood. This, by means of our sticks and pikes, we found
+to be about three feet deep, and eight yards broad. Again we were at
+a loss how to proceed, when the fertile brain of the Captain devised a
+method of crossing it.
+
+"Boys," said he, "of coorse you've all played at leap-frog; very well,
+strip and go in, a dozen of you, lean one upon the back of another from
+this to the opposite bank, where one must stand facing the outside
+man, both their shoulders agin one another, that the outside man may be
+supported. Then we can creep over you, an' a dacent bridge you'll be,
+any way."
+
+This was the work of only a few minutes, and in less than ten we were
+all safely over.
+
+Merciful Heaven! how I sicken at the recollection of what is to follow!
+On reaching the dry bank, we proceeded instantly, and in profound
+silence, to the house; the Captain divided us into companies, and then
+assigned to each division its proper station. The two parties who had
+been so vindictive all the night, he kept about himself; for of those
+who were present, they only were in his confidence, and knew his
+nefarious purpose; their number was about fifteen. Having made these
+dispositions, he, at the head of about five of them, approached the
+house on the windy side, for the fiend possessed a coolness which
+enabled him to seize upon every possible advantage. That he had
+combustibles about him was evident, for in less than fifteen minutes
+nearly one-half of the house was enveloped in flames. On seeing this,
+the others rushed over to the spot where he and his gang were standing,
+and remonstrated earnestly, but in vain; the flames now burst forth with
+renewed violence, and as they flung their strong light upon the faces
+of the foremost group, I think hell itself could hardly present anything
+more satanic than their countenances, now worked up into a paroxysm of
+infernal triumph at their own revenge. The Captain's look had lost all
+its calmness, every feature started out into distinct malignity, the
+curve in his brow was deep, and ran up,to the root of the hair, dividing
+his face into two segments, that did not seem to have been designed
+for each other. His lips were half open, and the corners of his mouth a
+little brought back on each side, like those of a man expressing intense
+hatred and triumph over an enemy who is in the death-struggle under his
+grasp. His eyes blazed from beneath his knit eyebrows with a fire that
+seemed to be lighted up in the infernal pit itself. It is unnecessary,
+and only painful, to describe the rest of his gang; demons might have
+been proud of such horrible visages as they exhibited; for they worked
+under all the power of hatred, revenge, and joy; and these passions
+blended into one terrible scowl, enough almost to blast any human eye
+that would venture to look upon it.
+
+When the others attempted to intercede for the lives of the inmates,
+there were at least fifteen guns and pistols levelled at them.
+
+"Another word," said the Captain, "an' you're a corpse where you stand,
+or the first man who will dare to spake for them; no, no, it wasn't to
+spare them we came here. 'No mercy' is the pass-word for the night, an'
+by the sacred oath I swore beyant in the chapel, any one among yez that
+will attempt to show it, will find none at my hand. Surround the house,
+boys, I tell ye, I hear them stirring. 'No quarter--no mercy,' is the
+ordher of the night."
+
+Such was his command over these misguided creatures, that in an instant
+there was a ring round the house to prevent the escape of the unhappy
+inmates, should the raging element give them time to attempt it; for
+none present durst withdraw themselves from the scene, not only from an
+apprehension of the Captain's present vengeance, or that of his gang,
+but because they knew that even had they then escaped, an early and
+certain death awaited them from a quarter against which they had
+no means of defence. The hour now was about half-past two! o'clock.
+Scarcely had the last words escaped from the Captain's lips, when one of
+the windows of the house was broken, and a human head, having the hair
+in a blaze, was descried, apparently a woman's, if one might judge
+by the profusion of burning tresses, and the softness of the tones,
+notwithstanding that it called, or rather shrieked aloud for help and
+mercy. The only reply to this was the whoop from the Captain and his
+gang, of "No mercy--no mercy!" and that instant the former, and one of
+the latter, rushed to the spot, and ere the action could be perceived,
+the head was transfixed with a bayonet and a pike, both having entered
+it together. The word "mercy" was divided in her mouth; a short silence
+ensued, the head hung down on the window, but was instantly tossed back
+into the flames.
+
+This action occasioned a cry of horror from all present, except the gang
+and their leader, which startled and enraged the latter so much, that he
+ran towards one of them, and had his bayonet, now reeking with the blood
+of its innocent victim, raised to plunge it in his body, when, dropping
+the point, he said in a piercing whisper, that hissed in the ears of
+all: "It's no use now, you know; if one's to hang, all will hang; so our
+safest way, you persave, is to lave none of them to tell the story. Ye
+may go now, if you wish; but it won't save a hair of your heads. You
+cowardly set! I knew if I had tould yez the sport, that none of you,
+except my own boys, would come, so I jist played a thrick upon you; but
+remimber what you are sworn to, and stand to the oath ye tuck."
+
+Unhappily, notwithstanding the wetness of the preceding weather, the
+materials of the house were extremely combustible; the whole dwelling
+was now one body of glowing flame, yet the shouts and shrieks within
+rose awfully above its crackling and the voice of the storm, for the
+wind once more blew in gusts, and with great violence. The doors and
+windows were all torn open, and such of those within as had escaped the
+flames rushed towards them, for the purpose of further escape, and
+of claiming mercy at the hands of their destroyers; but whenever they
+appeared, the unearthly cry of "no mercy" rang upon their ears for a
+moment, and for a moment only, for they were flung back at the points of
+the weapons which the demons had brought with them to make the work of
+vengeance more certain.
+
+As yet there were many persons in the house, whose cry for life was
+strong as despair, and who clung to it with all the awakened powers
+of reason and instinct. The ear of man could hear nothing so strongly
+calculated to stifle the demon of cruelty and revenge within him, as the
+long and wailing shrieks which rose beyond the elements, in tones that
+were carried off rapidly upon the blast, until they died away in the
+darkness that lay behind the surrounding hills. Had not the house been
+in a solitary situation, and the hour the dead of night, any person
+sleeping within a moderate distance must have heard them, for such a cry
+of sorrow rising into a yell of despair was almost sufficient to have
+awakened, the dead. It was lost, however, upon the hearts and ears that
+heard it: to them, though in justice be it said, to only comparatively
+a few of them, it appeared as delightful as the tones of soft and
+entrancing music.
+
+The claims of the surviving sufferers were now modified; they
+supplicated merely to suffer death by the weapons of their enemies; they
+were willing to bear that, provided they should be allowed to escape
+from the flames; but no--the horrors of the conflagration were
+calmly and malignantly gloried in by their merciless assassins, who
+deliberately flung them back into all their tortures. In the course of
+a few minutes a man appeared upon the side-wall of the house, nearly
+naked; his figure, as he stood against the sky in horrible relief, was
+so finished a picture of woebegone agony and supplication, that it is
+yet as distinct in my memory as if I were again present at the scene.
+Every muscle, now in motion by the powerful agitation of his sufferings,
+stood out upon his limbs and neck, giving him an appearance of desperate
+strength, to which by this time he must have been wrought up; the
+perspiration poured from his frame, and the veins and arteries of his
+neck were inflated to a surprising thickness. Every moment he looked
+down into the flames which were rising to where he stood; and as he
+looked, the indescribable horror which flitted over his features might
+have worked upon the devil himself to relent. His words were few:--
+
+"My child," said he, "is still safe, she is an infant, a young crathur
+that never harmed you, or any one--she is still safe. Your mothers, your
+wives, have young innocent childhre like it. Oh, spare her, think for a
+moment that it's one of your own; spare it, as you hope to meet a just
+God, or if you don't, in mercy shoot me first--put an end to me, before
+I see her burned!"
+
+The Captain approached him coolly and deliberately. "You'll prosecute no
+one now, you bloody informer," said he: "you'll convict no more boys for
+takin' an ould gun an' pistol from you, or for givin' you a neighborly
+knock or two into the bargain."
+
+Just then, from a window opposite him, proceeded the shrieks of a woman,
+who appeared at it with the infant, in her arms. She herself was almost
+scorched to death; but, with the presence of mind and humanity of her
+sex, she was about to put the little babe out of the window. The Captain
+noticed this, and, with characteristic atrocity, thrust, with a sharp
+bayonet, the little innocent, along with the person who endeavored to
+rescue it, into the red flames, where they both perished. This was the
+work of an instant. Again he approached the man: "Your child is a coal
+now," said he, with deliberate mockery; "I pitched it in myself, on the
+point of this,"--showing the weapon--"an' now is your turn,"--saying
+which, he clambered up, by the assistance of his gang, who stood with
+a front of pikes and bayonets bristling to receive the wretched man,
+should he attempt, in his despair, to throw himself from the wall.
+The Captain got up, and placing the point of his bayonet against his
+shoulder, flung him into the fiery element that raged behind him. He
+uttered one wild and terrific cry, as he fell back, and no more. After
+this nothing was heard but the crackling of the fire, and the rushing of
+the blast; all that had possessed life within were consumed, amounting
+either to eight or eleven persons.
+
+When this was accomplished, those who took an active part in the murder,
+stood for some time about the conflagration; and as it threw its red
+light upon their fierce faces and rough persons, soiled as they now were
+with smoke and black streaks of ashes, the scene seemed to be changed to
+hell, the murderers to spirits of the damned, rejoicing over the arrival
+and the torture of some guilty soul. The faces of those who kept aloof
+from the slaughter were blanched to the whiteness of death: some of them
+fainted, and others were in such agitation that they were compelled to
+lean on their comrades. They became actually powerless with horror:
+yet to such a scene were they brought by the pernicious influence of
+Ribbonism.
+
+It was only when the last victim went down, that the conflagration shot
+up into the air with most unbounded fury. The house was large, deeply
+thatched, and well furnished; and the broad red pyramid rose up with
+fearful magnificence towards the sky. Abstractedly it had sublimity, but
+now it was associated with nothing in my mind but blood and terror. It
+was not, however, without a purpose that the Captain and his gang stood
+to contemplate its effect. "Boys," said he, "we had betther be sartin
+that all's safe; who knows but there might be some of the sarpents
+crouchin' under a hape o' rubbish, to come out an' gibbet us to-morrow
+or next day: we had betther wait a while, anyhow, if it was only to see
+the blaze."
+
+Just then the flames rose majestically to a surprising height. Our eyes
+followed their direction; and we perceived, for the first time, that
+the dark clouds above, together with the intermediate air, appeared
+to reflect back, or rather to have caught the red hue of the fire. The
+hills and country about us appeared with an alarming distinctness; but
+the most picturesque part of it was the effect of reflection of the
+blaze on the floods that spread over the surrounding plains. These, in
+fact, appeared to be one broad mass of liquid copper, for the motion of
+the breaking-waters caught from the blaze of the high waving column,
+as reflected in them, a glaring light, which eddied, and rose, and
+fluctuated, as if the flood itself had been a lake of molten fire.
+
+Fire, however, destroys rapidly. In a short time the flames sank--became
+weak and flickering--by and by, they shot out only in fits--the
+crackling of the timbers died away--the surrounding darkness
+deepened--and, ere long, the faint light was overpowered by the thick
+volumes of smoke that rose from the ruins of the house and its murdered
+inhabitants.
+
+"Now, boys," said the Captain, "all is safe--we may go. Remember,
+every man of you, what you've sworn this night, on the book an' altar of
+God--not on a heretic Bible. If you perjure yourselves, you may hang
+us; but let me tell you, for your comfort, that if you do, there is
+them livin' that will take care the lease of your own lives will be but
+short."
+
+After this we dispersed every man to his own home.
+
+Reader,--not many months elapsed ere I saw the bodies of this Captain,
+whose name was Patrick Devann, and all those who were actively concerned
+in the perpetration of this deed of horror, withering in the wind, where
+they hung gibbeted, near the scene of their nefarious villany; and
+while I inwardly thanked Heaven for my own narrow and almost undeserved
+escape, I thought in my heart how seldom, even in this world, justice
+fails to overtake the murder, and to enforce the righteous judgment of
+God--that "whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed."
+
+*****
+
+This tale of terror is, unfortunately, too true. The scene of hellish
+murder detailed in it lies at Wildgoose Lodge, in the county of Louth,
+within about four miles of Carrickmacross, and nine of Dundalk. No such
+multitudinous murder has occurred, under similar circumstances, except
+the burning of the Sheas, in the county of Tipperary. The name of the
+family burned in Wildgoose Lodge was Lynch. One of them had, shortly
+before this fatal night, prosecuted and convicted some of the
+neighboring Ribbonmen, who visited him with severe marks of their
+displeasure, in consequence of his having refused to enrol himself as
+a member of their body. The language of the story is partly fictitious;
+but the facts are pretty closely such as were developed during the
+trial of the murderers. Both parties were Roman Catholics, and either
+twenty-five or twenty-eight of those who took an active part in the
+burning, were hanged and gibbeted in different parts of the county of
+Louth. Devann, the ringleader, hung for some months in chains, within
+about a hundred yards of his own house, and about half a mile from
+Wildgoose Lodge. His mother could neither go into nor out of her cabin
+without seeing his body swinging from the gibbet. Her usual exclamation
+on looking at him was--"God be good to the sowl of my poor marthyr!"
+The peasantry, too, frequently exclaimed, on seeing him, "Poor Paddy!" A
+gloomy fact that speaks volumes!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+TUBBER DERG; Or, THE RED WELL.
+
+
+The following story owes nothing to any coloring or invention of
+mine; it is unhappily a true one, and to me possesses a peculiar and
+melancholy interest, arising from my intimate knowledge of the man whose
+fate it holds up as a moral lesson to Irish landlords. I knew him well,
+and many a day and hour have I played about his knee, and ran, in my
+boyhood, round his path, when, as he said to himself, the world was no
+trouble to him.
+
+On the south side of a sloping tract of light ground, lively, warm,
+and productive, stood a white, moderate-sized farm-house, which, in
+consequence of its conspicuous situation, was a prominent and, we may
+add, a graceful object in the landscape of which it formed a part. The
+spot whereon it stood was a swelling natural terrace, the soil of which
+was heavier and richer than that of the adjoining lands. On each side
+of the house stood a clump of old beeches, the only survivors of that
+species then remaining in the country. These beeches extended behind the
+house in a land of angle, with opening, enough at their termination to
+form a vista, through which its white walls glistened with beautiful
+effect in the calm splendor of a summer evening. Above the mound on
+which it stood, rose two steep hills, overgrown with furze and fern,
+except on their tops, which were clothed with purple heath; they were
+also covered with patches of broom, and studded with gray rocks, which
+sometimes rose singly or in larger masses, pointed or rounded into
+curious and fantastic shapes. Exactly between these hills the sun went
+down during the month of June, and nothing could be in finer relief
+than the rocky and picturesque outlines of their sides, as crowned with
+thorns and clumps of wild ash, they appeared to overhang the valley
+whose green foliage was gilded by the sun-beams, which lit up the scene
+into radiant beauty. The bottom of this natural chasm, which opened
+against the deep crimson of the evening sky, was nearly upon a level
+with the house, and completely so with the beeches that surrounded it.
+Brightly did the sinking sun fall upon their tops, whilst the neat white
+house below, in their quiet shadow, sent up its wreath of smoke
+among their branches, itself an emblem of contentment, industry, and
+innocence. It was, in fact, a lovely situation; perhaps the brighter
+to me, that its remembrance is associated with days of happiness and
+freedom from the cares of a world, which, like a distant mountain,
+darkens as we approach it, and only exhausts us in struggling to climb
+its rugged and barren paths.
+
+There was to the south-west of this house another little hazel glen,
+that ended in a precipice formed, by a single rock some thirty feet,
+high, over which tumbled a crystal cascade into a basin worn in its
+hard bed below. From this basin the stream murmured away through the
+copse-wood, until it joined a larger rivulet that passed, with many a
+winding, through a fine extent of meadows adjoining it. Across the foot
+of this glen, and past the door of the house we have described, ran a
+bridle road, from time immemorial; on which, as the traveller ascended
+it towards the house, he appeared to track his way in blood, for a
+chalybeate spa arose at its head, oozing out of the earth, and spread
+itself in a crimson stream over the path in every spot whereon a
+foot-mark could be made. From this circumstance it was called Tubber
+Derg, or the Red Well. In the meadow where the glen terminated, was
+another spring of delicious crystal; and clearly do I remember the
+ever-beaten pathway that led to it through the grass, and up the green
+field which rose in a gentle slope to the happy-looking house of Owen
+M'Carthy, for so was the man called who resided under its peaceful roof.
+
+I will not crave your pardon, gentle reader, for dwelling at such length
+upon a scene so clear to my heart as this, because I write not now so
+much for your gratification as my own. Many an eve of gentle May have
+I pulled the Maygowans which grew about that well, and over that smooth
+meadow.
+
+Often have I raised my voice to its shrillest pitch, that I might hear
+its echoes rebounding in the bottom of the green and still glen, where
+silence, so to speak, was deepened by the continuous murmur of the
+cascade above; and when the cuckoo uttered her first note from among the
+hawthorns on its side, with what trembling anxiety did I, an urchin of
+some eight or nine years, look under my right foot for the white hair,
+whose charm was such, that by keeping it about me the first female name
+I should hear was destined, I believed in my soul, to be that of my
+future wife.* Sweet was the song of the thrush, and mellow the whistle
+of the blackbird, as they rose in the stillness of evening over the
+"hirken shaws" and green dells of this secluded spot of rural beauty.
+Far, too, could the rich voice of Owen M'Carthy be heard along the hills
+and meadows, as, with a little chubby urchin at his knee, and another in
+his arms, he sat on a bench beside his own door, singing the "Trouglia".
+in his native Irish; whilst Kathleen his wife, with her two maids, each
+crooning a low song, sat before the door milking the cows, whose sweet
+breath mingled its perfume with the warm breeze of evening.
+
+Owen M'Carthy was descended from a long-line of honest ancestors,
+whose names had never, within the memory of man, been tarnished by
+the commission of a mean or disreputable action. They were always a
+kind-hearted family, but stern and proud in the common intercourse of
+life. They believed; themselves to be, and probably were, a branch of
+the MacCarthy More stock; and, although only the possessors of a small
+farm, it was singular to observe the effect which this conviction
+produced upon their bearing and manners. To it might, perhaps,
+be attributed the high and stoical integrity for which they were
+remarkable. This severity, however, was no proof that they wanted
+feeling, or were insensible to the misery and sorrows of others: in
+all the little cares and perplexities that chequered the peaceful
+neighborhood in which they lived, they were ever the first to console,
+or, if necessary, to support a distressed neighbor with the means which
+God had placed in their possession; for, being industrious, they were
+seldom poor. Their words were few, but sincere, and generally promised
+less than the honest hearts that dictated them intended to perform.
+There is in some persons a hereditary feeling of just principle, the
+result neither of education nor of a clear moral sense, but rather a
+kind of instinctive honesty which descends, like a constitutional
+bias, from father to son, pervading every member of the family. It is
+difficult to define this, or to assign its due position in the scale
+of human virtues. It exists in the midst of the grossest ignorance, and
+influences the character in the absence of better principles. Such was
+the impress which marked so strongly the family of which I speak. No one
+would ever think of imputing a dishonest act to the M'Carthys; nor would
+any person acquainted with them, hesitate for a moment to consider their
+word as good as the bond of another. I do not mean to say, however, that
+their motives of action were not higher than this instinctive honesty;
+far from it: but I say, that they possessed it in addition to a strong
+feeling of family pride, and a correct knowledge of their moral duties.
+
+     * Such is the superstition; and, as I can tell,
+     faithfully is it believed.
+
+I can only take up Owen M'Carthy at that part of the past to which my
+memory extends. He was then a tall, fine-looking young man; silent, but
+kind. One of the earliest events within my recollection is his wedding;
+after that the glimpse of his state and circumstances are imperfect; but
+as I grew up, they became more connected, and I am able to remember him
+the father of four children; an industrious, inoffensive small farmer,
+beloved, respected, and honored. No man could rise, be it ever so early,
+who would not find Owen up before him; no man could anticipate him in an
+early crop, and if a widow or a sick acquaintance were unable to get in
+their harvest, Owen was certain to collect the neighbors to assist them;
+to be the first there himself, with quiet benevolence, encouraging
+them to a zealous performance of the friendly task in which they were
+engaged.
+
+It was, I believe, soon after his marriage, that the lease of the farm
+held by him expired. Until that time he had been able to live with
+perfect independence; but even the enormous rise of one pound per acre,
+though it deprived him in a great degree of his usual comforts, did not
+sink him below the bare necessaries of life. For some years after that
+he could still serve a deserving neighbor; and never was the hand of
+Owen M'Carthy held back from the wants and distresses of those whom he
+knew to be honest.
+
+I remember once an occasion upon which a widow Murray applied to him for
+a loan of five pounds, to prevent her two cows from being auctioned
+for a half year's rent, of which she only wanted that sum. Owen sat at
+dinner with his family when she entered the house in tears, and, as well
+as her agitation of mind permitted, gave him a detailed account of her
+embarrassment.
+
+"The blessin' o' God be upon all here," said she, on entering.
+
+"The double o' that to you, Rosha," replied Owen's wife: "won't you sit
+in an' be atin'?--here's a sate beside Nanny; come over, Rosha."
+
+Owen only nodded to her, and continued to eat his dinner, as if he felt
+no interest in her distress. Rosha sat down at a distance, and with the
+corner of a red handkerchief to her eyes, shed tears in that bitterness
+of feeling which marks the helplessness of honest industry under the
+pressure of calamity.
+
+"In the name o' goodness, Rosha," said Mrs. M'Carthy, "what ails you,
+asthore? Sure Jimmy--God spare him to you--wouldn't be dead?"
+
+"Glory be to God! no, avourneen machree. Och, och! but it 'ud be the
+black sight, an' the black day, that 'ud see my brave, boy, the staff
+of our support, an' the bread of our mouth, taken away from us!--No, no,
+Kathleen dear, it's not that bad wid me yet. I hope we'll never live to
+see his manly head laid down before us. 'Twas his own manliness, indeed,
+brought it an him--backin' the sack when he was bringin' home our last
+_meldhre_ * from the mill; for you see he should do it, the crathur, to
+show his strinth, an' the sack, when he got it an was too heavy for him,
+an' hurted the small of his back; for his bones, you see, are too young,
+an' hadn't time to fill up yet. No, avourneen. Glory be to God! he's
+gettin' betther wid me!" and the poor creature's eyes glistened with
+delight through her tears and the darkness of her affliction.
+
+Without saying a word, Owen, when she finished the eulogium on her
+son, rose, and taking her forcibly by the shoulder, set her down at the
+table, on which a large potful of potatoes had been spread out, with
+a circle in the middle for a dish of rashers and eggs, into which dish
+every right hand of those about it was thrust, with a quickness that
+clearly illustrated the principle of competition as a stimulus to
+action.
+
+"Spare your breath," said Owen, placing her rather roughly upon the
+seat, "an' take share of what's goin': when all's cleared off we'll hear
+you, but the sorra word till then."
+
+"Musha, Owen," said the poor woman, "you're the same man still; sure
+we all know your ways; I'll strive, avourneen, to ate--I'll strive,
+asthore--to plase you, an' the Lord bless you an' yours, an' may you
+never be as I an' my fatherless childhre are this sorrowful day!" and
+she accompanied her words by a flood of tears.
+
+     * Meldhre--whatever quantity of grain is brought to the
+     mill to be ground on one occasion.
+
+Owen, without evincing the slightest sympathy, withdrew himself from the
+table. Not a muscle of his face was moved; but as the cat came about his
+feet at the time, he put his foot under her, and flung her as easily as
+possible to the lower end of the kitchen.
+
+"Arrah, what harm did the crathur do," asked his wife, "that you'd kick
+her for, that way? an' why but you ate out your dinner?"
+
+"I'm done," he replied, "but that's no rason that Rosha, an' you, an'
+thim boys that has the work afore them, shouldn't finish your male's
+mate."
+
+Poor Rosha thought that by his withdrawing he had already suspected
+the object of her visit, and of course concluded that her chance of
+succeeding was very slender.
+
+The wife, who guessed what she wanted, as well as the nature of her
+suspicion, being herself as affectionate and obliging as Owen, reverted
+to the subject, in order to give her an opportunity of proceeding.
+
+"Somethin' bitther an' out o' the common coorse, is a throuble to you,
+Rosha," said she, "or you wouldn't be in the state you're in. The Lord
+look down on you this day, you poor crathur--widout the father of your
+childhre to stand up for you, an' your only other depindance laid on the
+broad of his back, all as one as a cripple; but no matther, Rosha; trust
+to Him that can be a husband to you an' a father to your orphans--trust
+to Him, an' his blessed mother in heaven, this day, an' never fear but
+they'll rise up a frind for you. Musha, Owen, ate your dinner as you
+ought to do, wid your capers! How can you take a spade in your hand upon
+that morsel?"
+
+"Finish your own," said her husband, "an' never heed me; jist let me
+alone. Don't you see that if I wanted it, I'd ate it, an' what more
+would you have about!"
+
+"Well, acushla, it's your own loss, sure, of a sartinty. An' Rosha,
+whisper, ahagur, what can Owen or I do for you? Throth, it would be a
+bad day we'd see you at a _deshort_ * for a friend, for you never wor
+nothin' else nor a civil, oblagin' neighbor yourself; an' him that's
+gone before--the Lord make his bed in heaven this day--was as good a
+warrant as ever broke bread, to sarve a friend, if it was at the hour of
+midnight."
+
+     * That is at a loss; or more properly speaking, taken
+     short, which it means.
+
+"Ah! when I had him!" exclaimed the distracted widow, "I never had
+occasion to trouble aither friend or neighbor; but he s gone an' now
+it's otherwise wid me--glory be to God for all his mercies--a wurrah
+dheelish! Why, thin, since I must spake, an' has no other frind to go
+to--but somehow I doubt Owen looks dark upon me--sure I'd put my hand to
+a stamp, if my word wouldn't do for it, an' sign the blessed crass that
+saved us, for the payment of it; or I'd give it to him in oats, for I
+hear you want some, Owen--Phatie oates it is, an' a betther shouldhered
+or fuller-lookin' grain never went undher a harrow--indeed it's it
+that's the beauty, all out, if it's good seed you want."
+
+"What is it for, woman alive?" inquired Owen, as he kicked a
+three-legged stool out of his way."
+
+"What is it for, is it? Och, Owen darlin', sure my two brave cows is
+lavin' me. Owen M'Murt, the driver, is over wid me beyant, an' has them
+ready to set off wid. I reared them both, the two of them, wid my own
+hands; _Cheehoney_, that knows my voice, an' would come to me from the
+fardest corner o' the field, an' nothin' will we have--nothin' will my
+poor sick boy have--but the black wather, or the dhry salt; besides the
+butther of them being lost to us for rent, or a small taste of it, of an
+odd time, for poor Jimmy. Owen, next to God, I have no friend to depind
+upon but yourself!"
+
+"Me!" said Owen, as if astonished. "Phoo, that's quare enough! Now do
+you think, Rosha,--hut, hut, woman alive! Come, boys, you're all done;
+out wid you to your spades, an' finish that _meerin_ (* a marsh ditch, a
+boundary) before night. Me!--hut, tut!"
+
+"I have it all but five pounds, Owen, an' for the sake of him that's in
+his grave--an' that, maybe, is able to put up his prayer for you"--
+
+"An' what would you want me to do, Rosha? Fitther for you to sit down
+an' finish your dinner, when it's before you. I'm goin' to get an ould
+glove that's somewhere about this chist, for I must weed out that bit
+of oats before night, wid a blessin'," and, as he spoke he passed into
+another room, as if he had altogether forgotten her solicitation, and in
+a few minutes returned.
+
+"Owen, avick!--an' the blessin' of the fatherless be upon you, sure, an'
+many a one o' them you have, any how, Owen!"
+
+"Well, Rosha--well?"
+
+"Och, och, Owen, it's low days wid me to be depindin' upon the
+sthranger? little thim that reared me ever thought it 'ud come to this.
+You know I'm a dacent father's child, an' I have stooped to you, Owen
+M'Carthy--what I'd scorn to do to any other but yourself--poor an'
+friendless as I stand here before you. Let them take the cows, thin,
+from my childhre; but the father of the fatherless will support thim an'
+me. Och, but it's well for the O'Donohoes that their landlord lives at
+home among themselves, for may the heavens look down on me, I wouldn't
+know where to find mine, if one sight of him 'ud save me an' my childre
+from the grave! The Agent even, he lives in Dublin, an' how could I lave
+my sick boy, an' small girshas by themselves, to go a hundre miles, an'
+maybe not see him afther all. Little hopes I'd have from him, even if I
+did; he's paid for gatherin' in his rents; but it's well known he wants
+the touch of nathur for the sufferins of the poor, an' of them that's
+honest in their intintions."
+
+"I'll go over wid you, Rosha, if that will be of any use," replied Owen,
+composedly; "come, I'll go an' spake to Frank M'Murt.''
+
+"The sorra blame I blame him, Owen," replied Rosha, "his bread's
+depindin' upon the likes of sich doins, an' he can't get over it; but a
+word from you, Owen, will save me, for who ever refused to take the word
+of a M'Carthy?"
+
+When Owen and the widow arrived at the house of the latter, they found
+the situation of the bailiff laughable in the extreme. Her eldest son,
+who had been confined to his bed by a hurt received in his back, was
+up, and had got the unfortunate driver, who was rather old, wedged in
+between the dresser and the wall, where his cracked voice--for he was
+asthmatic--was raised to the highest pitch, calling for assistance.
+Beside him was a large tub half-filled with water, into which the little
+ones were emptying small jugs, carried at the top of their speed from
+a puddle before the door. In the meantime, Jemmy was tugging at the
+bailiff with all his strength--fortunately for that personage, it was
+but little--with the most sincere intention of inverting him into the
+tub which contained as much muddy water as would have been sufficient to
+make him a subject for the deliberation of a coroner and twelve honest
+men. Nothing could be more conscientiously attempted than the task
+which Jemmy had proposed to execute: every tug brought out his utmost
+strength, and when he failed in pulling down the bailiff, he compensated
+himself for his want of success by cuffing his ribs, and peeling his
+shins by hard kicks; whilst from those open points which the driver's
+grapple with his man naturally exposed, were inflicted on him by the
+rejoicing urchins numberless punches of tongs, potato-washers, and
+sticks whose points were from time to time hastily thrust into the
+coals, that they might more effectually either blind or disable him in
+some other manner.
+
+As one of the little ones ran out to fill his jug, he spied his mother
+and Owen approaching, on which, with the empty vessel in his hand, he
+flew towards them, his little features distorted by glee and ferocity,
+wildly mixed up together.
+
+"Oh mudher, mudher--ha, ha, ha!--don't come in yet; don't come in, Owen,
+till Jimmy un' huz, an' the Denisses, gets the bailie drownded. We'll
+soon have the _bot_ (* tub) full; but Paddy an' Jack Denis have the
+eyes a'most pucked out of him; an' Katty's takin' the rapin' hook from,
+behind the _cuppet_, to get it about his neck."
+
+Owen and the widow entered with all haste, precisely at the moment when
+Frank's head was dipped, for the first time, into the vessel.
+
+"Is it goin' to murdher him ye are?" said Owen, as he seized Jemmy with
+a grasp that transferred him to the opposite end of the house; "hould
+back ye pack of young divils, an' let the man up. What did he come to
+do but his duty? I tell you, Jimmy, if you wor at yourself, an' in full
+strinth, that you'd have the man's blood on you where you stand, and
+would suffer as you ought to do for it."
+
+"There, let me," replied the lad, his eyes glowing and his veins
+swollen with passion; "I don't care if I did. It would be no sin, an' no
+disgrace, to hang for the like of him; dacenter to do that, than stale a
+creel of turf, or a wisp of straw, 'tanny rate."
+
+In the meantime the bailiff had raised his head out of the water, and
+presented a visage which it was impossible to view with gravity. The
+widow's anxiety prevented her from seeing it in a ludicrous light; but
+Owen's severe face assumed a grave smile, as the man shook himself and
+attempted to comprehend the nature of his situation. The young urchins,
+who had fallen back at the appearance of Owen and the widow, now burst
+into a peal of mirth, in which, however, Jemmy, whose fiercer passions
+had been roused, did not join.
+
+"Frank M'Murt," said the widow, "I take the mother of heaven to witness,
+that it vexes my heart to see you get sich thratement in my place; an'
+I wouldn't for the best cow I have that sich a _brieuliagh_ (* squabble)
+happened. _Dher charp agusmanim_, (** by my soul and body) Jimmy, but
+I'll make you suffer for drawin' down this upon my head, and me had
+enough over it afore."
+
+"I don't care," replied Jemmy; "whoever comes to take our property from
+us, an' us willin' to work will suffer for it. Do you think I'd see thim
+crathurs at their dhry phatie, an' our cows standin' in a pound for no
+rason? No; high hangin' to me, but I'll split to the skull the first man
+that takes them; an' all I'm sorry for is, that it's not the vagabone
+Landlord himself that's near me. That's our thanks for paying many
+a good pound, in honesty and dacency, to him an' his; lavin' us to a
+schamin' agent, an' not even to that same, but to his undher-strap-pers,
+that's robbin' us on both sides between them. May hard fortune attind
+him, for a landlord! You may tell him this, Frank,--that his wisest plan
+is to keep clear of the counthry. Sure, it's a gambler he is, they say;
+an' we must be harrished an' racked to support his villany! But wait a
+bit; maybe there's a good time comin', when we'll pay our money to thim
+that won't be too proud to hear our complaints wid their own ears,
+an' who won't turn us over to a divil's limb of an agent. He had need,
+anyhow, to get his coffin sooner nor he thinks. What signifies hangin'
+in a good cause?" said he, as the tears of keen indignation burst from
+his glowing eyes. "It's a dacent death, an' a happy death, when it's
+for the right," he added--for his mind was evidently fixed upon the
+contemplation of those means of redress, which the habits of the
+country, and the prejudices of the people, present to them in the first
+moments of passion.
+
+"It's well that Frank's one of ourselves," replied Owen, coolly,
+"otherwise, Jemmy, you said words that would lay you up by the heels.
+As for you, Frank, you must look over this. The boy's the son of dacent
+poor parents, an' it's a new thing for him to see the cows druv from the
+place. The poor fellow's vexed, too, that he has been so long laid up
+wid a sore back; an' so you see one thing or another has put him through
+other. Jimmy is warm-hearted afther all, an' will be sorry for it when
+he cools, an' renumbers that you wor only doin' your duty."
+
+"But what am I to do about the cows? Sure, I can't go back widout either
+thim or the rint?" said Frank, with a look of fear and trembling at
+Jemmy.
+
+"The cows!" said another of the widow's sons who then came in; "why, you
+dirty spalpeen of a rip, you may whistle on the wrong side o' your mouth
+for them. I druv them off of the estate; an' now take them, if you dar!
+It's conthrairy to law," said the urchin; "an' if you'd touch them, I'd
+make my mudher sarve you wid a _lattitat_ or _fiery-flashes_."
+
+This was a triumph to the youngsters, who, began to shake their little
+fists at him, and to exclaim in a chorus--"Ha, you dirty rip! wait till
+we get you out o' the house, an' if we don't put you from ever drivin'!
+Why, but you work like another!--ha, you'll get it!"--and every little
+fist was shook in vengeance at him.
+
+"Whist wid ye," said Jemmy to the little ones; "let him alone, he got
+enough. There's the cows for you; an keen may the curse o' the widow
+an' orphans light upon you, and upon them that sent you, from first to
+last!--an' that's the best we wish you!"
+
+"Frank," said Owen to the bailiff, "is there any one in the town below
+that will take the rint, an' give a resate for it? Do you think, man,
+that the neighbors of an honest, industrious woman 'ud see the cattle
+taken out of her byre for a thrifle? Hut tut! no, man alive--no sich
+thing! There's not a man in the parish, wid manes to do it, would see
+them taken away to be canted, at only about a fourth part of their
+value. Hut, tut,--no!"
+
+As the sterling fellow spoke, the cheeks of the widow were suffused with
+tears, and her son Jemmy's hollow eyes once more kindled, but with a far
+different expression from that which but a few minutes before flashed
+from them.
+
+"Owen," said he, and utterance nearly failed him: "Owen, if I was well
+it wouldn't be as it is wid us; but--no, indeed it would not; but--may
+God bless you for this! Owen, never fear but you'll be paid; may God
+bless you, Owen!"
+
+As he spoke the hand of his humble benefactor was warmly grasped in his.
+A tear fell upon it: for with one of those quick and fervid transitions
+of feeling so peculiar to the people, he now felt a strong, generous
+emotion of gratitude, mingled, perhaps, with a sense of wounded pride,
+on finding the poverty of their little family so openly exposed.
+
+"Hut, tut, Jimmy, avick," said Owen, who understood his feelings; "phoo,
+man alive! hut--hem!--why, sure it's nothin' at all, at all; anybody
+would do it--only a bare five an' twenty shillins [it was five pound]:
+any neighbor--Mick Cassidy, Jack Moran, or Pether M'Cullagh, would do
+it.--Come, Frank, step out; the money's to the fore. Rosha, put
+your cloak about you, and let us go down to the agint, or clerk, or
+whatsomever he is--sure, that makes no maxin anyhow;--I suppose he
+has power to give a resate. Jemmy, go to bed again, you're pale, poor
+bouchal; and, childhre, ye crathurs ye, the cows won't be taken from
+ye this bout.--Come, in the name of God, let us go, and see-everything
+rightified at once--hut, tut--come."
+
+Many similar details of Owen M'Carthy's useful life could be given, in
+which he bore an equally benevolent and Christian part. Poor fellow! he
+was, ere long, brought low; but, to the credit of our peasantry, much
+as is said about their barbarity, he was treated, when helpless, with
+gratitude, pity, and kindness.
+
+Until the peace of 1814, Owen's regular and systematic industry
+enabled him to struggle successfully against a weighty rent and sudden
+depression in the price of agricultural produce; that is, he was able,
+by the unremitting toil of a man remarkable alike for an unbending
+spirit and a vigorous frame of body, to pay his rent with tolerable
+regularity. It is true, a change began to be visible in his personal
+appearance, in his farm, in the dress of his children, and in the
+economy of his household. Improvements, which adequate capital would
+have enabled, him to effect, were left either altogether unattempted,
+or in an imperfect state, resembling neglect, though, in reality, the
+result of poverty. His dress at mass, and in fairs and markets, had,
+by degrees, lost that air of comfort and warmth which bespeak the
+independent farmer. The evidences of embarrassment began to disclose
+themselves in many small points--inconsiderable, it is true, but not
+the less significant. His house, in the progress of his declining
+circumstances,ceased to be annually ornamented by a new coat of
+whitewash; it soon assumed a faded and yellowish hue, and sparkled not
+in the setting sun as in the days of Owen's prosperity. It had, in fact,
+a wasted, unthriving look, like its master. The thatch became black
+and rotten upon its roof; the chimneys sloped to opposite points; the
+windows were less neat, and ultimately, when broken, were patched with a
+couple of leaves from the children's blotted copy-books. His out-houses
+also began to fail. The neatness of his little farm-yard, and the
+cleanliness which marked so conspicuously the space fronting his
+dwelling-house, disappeared in the course of time. Filth began to
+accumulate where no filth had been; his garden was not now planted so
+early, nor with such taste and neatness as before; his crops were later,
+and less abundant; his haggarts neither so full nor so trim as they were
+wont to be, nor his ditches and enclosures kept in such good repair. His
+cars, ploughs, and other farming implements, instead of being put under
+cover, were left exposed to the influence of wind and weather, where
+they soon became crazy and useless.
+
+Such, however, were only the slighter symptoms of his bootless struggle
+against the general embarrassment into which the agricultural interests
+were, year after year, so unhappily sinking.
+
+Had the tendency to general distress among the class to which he
+belonged become stationary, Owen would have continued by toil and
+incessant exertion to maintain his ground; but, unfortunately, there was
+no point at which the national depression could then stop. Year after
+year produced deeper, more extensive, and more complicated misery; and
+when he hoped that every succeeding season would bring an improvement
+in the market, he was destined to experience not merely a fresh
+disappointment, but an unexpected depreciation in the price of his corn,
+butter, and other disposable commodities.
+
+When a nation is reduced to such a state, no eye but that of God himself
+can see the appalling wretchedness to which a year of disease and
+scarcity strikes down the poor and working classes.
+
+Owen, after a long and noble contest for nearly three years, sank, at
+length, under the united calamities of disease and scarcity. The father
+of the family was laid low upon the bed of sickness, and those of his
+little ones who escaped it were almost consumed by famine. This two-fold
+shock sealed his ruin; his honest heart was crushed--his hardy frame
+shorn of its strength, and he to whom every neighbor fled as to a
+friend, now required friendship at a moment when the widespread poverty
+of the country rendered its assistance hopeless.
+
+On rising from his bed of sickness, the prospect before him required his
+utmost fortitude to bear. He was now wasted in energy both of mind and
+body, reduced to utter poverty, with a large family of children, too
+young to assist him, without means of retrieving his circumstances, his
+wife and himself gaunt skeletons, his farm neglected, his house wrecked,
+and his offices falling to ruin, yet every day bringing the half-year's
+term nearer! Oh, ye who riot on the miseries of such men--ye who roll
+round the easy circle of fashionable life, think upon this picture! To
+vile and heartless landlords, who see not, hear not, know not those to
+whose heart-breaking toil ye owe the only merit ye possess--that of
+rank in society--come and contemplate this virtuous man, as unfriended,
+unassisted, and uncheered by those who are bound by a strong moral duty
+to protect and aid him, he looks shuddering into the dark, cheerless
+future! Is it to be wondered at that he, and such as he, should, in the
+misery of his despair, join the nightly meetings, be lured to associate
+himself with the incendiary, or seduced to grasp, in the stupid apathy
+of wretchedness, the weapon of the murderer? By neglecting the people;
+by draining them, with merciless rapacity, of the means of life; by
+goading them on under a cruel system of rack rents, ye become not their
+natural benefactors, but curses and scourges, nearly as much in reality
+as ye are in their opinion.
+
+When Owen rose, he was driven by hunger, direct and immediate, to sell
+his best cow; and having purchased some oatmeal at an enormous price,
+from a well-known devotee in the parish, who hoarded up this commodity
+for a "dear summer," he laid his plans for the future, with as much
+judgment as any man could display. One morning after breakfast he
+addressed his wife as follows:
+
+"Kathleen, mavourneen, I want to consult wid you about what we ought to
+do; things are low wid us, asthore; and except our heavenly Father puts
+it into the heart of them I'm goin' to mention, I don't know what well
+do, nor what'll become of these poor crathurs that's naked and hungry
+about us. God pity them, they don't know--and maybe that same's some
+comfort--the hardships that's before them. Poor crathurs! see how quiet
+and sorrowful they sit about their little play, passin' the time for
+themselves as well as they can! Alley, acushla machree, come over to
+me. Your hair is bright and fair, Alley, and curls so purtily that the
+finest lady in the land might envy it; but, acushla, your color's gone,
+your little hands are wasted away, too; that sickness was hard and sore
+upon you, a _colleen machree_ (* girl of my heart) and he that 'ud spend
+his heart's blood for you, darlin', can do nothin' to help you!"
+
+He looked at the child as he spoke, and a slight motion in the muscles
+of his face was barely preceptible, but it passed away; and, after
+kissing her, he proceeded:
+
+"Ay, ye crathurs--you and I, Kathleen, could earn our bread for
+ourselves yet, but these can't do it. This last stroke, darlin', has
+laid us at the door of both poverty and sickness, but blessed be the
+mother of heaven for it, they are all left wid us; and sure that's a
+blessin' we've to be thankful for--glory be to God!"
+
+"Ay, poor things, it's well to have them spared, Owen dear; sure I'd
+rather a thousand times beg from door to door, and have my childher to
+look at, than be in comfort widout them."
+
+"Beg: that 'ud go hard wid me, Kathleen. I'd work--I'd live on next to
+nothing all the year round; but to see the crathurs that wor dacently
+bred up brought to that, I couldn't bear it, Kathleen--'twould break
+the heart widin in me. Poor as they are, they have the blood of kings
+in their veins; and besides, to see a M'Carthy beggin' his bread in the
+country where his name was once great--The M'Carthy More, that was their
+title-no, acushla, I love them as I do the blood in my own veins; but
+I'd rather see them in the arms of God in heaven, laid down dacently
+with their little sorrowful faces washed, and their little bodies
+stretched out purtily before my eyes--I would--in the grave-yard there
+beyant, where all belonging to me lie, than have it cast up to them, or
+have it said, that ever a M'Carthy was seen beggin' on the highway."
+
+"But, Owen, can you strike out no plan for us that 'ud put us in the way
+of comin' round agin? These poor ones, if we could hould out for two or
+three year, would soon be able to help us."
+
+"They would--they would. I'm thinkin' this day or two of a plan: but I'm
+doubtful whether it 'ud come to anything."
+
+"What is it, acushla? Sure we can't be worse nor we are, any way."
+
+"I'm goin' to go to Dublin. I'm tould that the landlord's come home from
+France, and that he's there now; and if I didn't see him, sure I could
+see the agent. Now, Kathleen, my intintion 'ud be to lay our case before
+the head landlord himself, in hopes he might hould back his hand, and
+spare us for a while. If I had a line from the agent, or a scrape of a
+pen, that I could show at home to some of the nabors, who knows but I
+could borry what 'ud set us up agin! I think many of them 'ud be sorry
+to see me turned out; eh, Kathleen?"
+
+The Irish are an imaginative people; indeed, too much so for either
+their individual or national happiness. And it is this and superstition,
+which also depends much upon imagination, that makes them so easily
+influenced by those extravagant dreams that are held out to them by
+persons who understand their character.
+
+When Kathleen heard the plan on which Owen founded his expectations of
+assistance, her dark melancholy eye flashed with a portion of its former
+fire; a transient vivacity lit up her sickly features, and she turned a
+smile of hope and affection upon her children, then upon Owen.
+
+"Arrah, thin, who knows, indeed!--who knows but he might do something
+for us? And maybe we might be as well as ever yet! May the Lord put it
+into his heart, this day! I declare, ay!--maybe it was God put it into
+your heart, Owen!"
+
+"I'll set off," replied her husband, who was a man of decision; "I'll
+set off on other morrow mornin'; and as nobody knows anything about it,
+so let there not be a word said upon the subject, good or bad. If I have
+success, well and good; but if not, why, nobody need be the wiser."
+
+The heart-broken wife evinced, for the remainder of the day, a lightness
+of spirits which she had not felt for many a month before. Even Owen
+was less depressed than usual, and employed himself in making
+such arrangements as he knew would occasion his family to feel the
+inconvenience of his absence less acutely. But as the hour of his
+departure drew nigh, a sorrowful feeling of affection rising into
+greater strength and tenderness threw a melancholy gloom around his
+hearth. According to their simple view of distance, a journey to Dublin
+was a serious undertaking, and to them it was such. Owen was in weak
+health, just risen out of illness, and what was more trying than any
+other consideration was, that since their marriage they had never been
+separated before.
+
+On the morning of his departure, he was up before daybreak, and so were
+his wife and children, for the latter had heard the conversation already
+detailed between them, and, with their simple-minded parents, enjoyed
+the gleam of hope which it presented; but this soon changed--when he was
+preparing to go, an indefinite sense of fear, and a more vivid clinging
+of affection marked their feelings. He himself partook of this, and
+was silent, depressed, and less ardent than when the speculation first
+presented itself to his mind. His resolution, however, was taken, and,
+should he fail, no blame at a future time could be attached to himself.
+It was the last effort; and to neglect it, he thought, would have been
+to neglect his duty. When breakfast was ready, they all sat down in
+silence; the hour was yet early, and a rushlight was placed in a wooden
+candlestick that stood beside them to afford light. There was something
+solemn and touching in the group as they sat in dim relief, every face
+marked by the traces of sickness, want, sorrow, and affection. The
+father attempted to eat, but could not; Kathleen sat at the meal, but
+could taste nothing; the children ate, for hunger at the moment was
+predominant over every other sensation. At length it was over, and Owen
+rose to depart; he stood for a minute on the floor, and seemed to take a
+survey of his cold, cheerless house, and then of his family; he cleared
+his throat several times, but did not speak.
+
+"Kathleen," said he, at length, "in the name of God I'll go; and may his
+blessin' be about you, asthore machree, and guard you and these darlins
+till I come back to yez."
+
+Kathleen's faithful heart could bear no more; she laid herself on his
+bosom--clung to his neck, and, as the parting kiss was given, she wept
+aloud, and Owen's tears fell silently down his worn cheeks. The children
+crowded about them in loud wailings, and the grief of this virtuous and
+afflicted family was of that profound description, which is ever the
+companion, in such scenes, of pure and genuine love.
+
+"Owen!" she exclaimed; "Owen, _a-suilish mahuil agus machree!_ (* light
+of my eyes and of my heart) I doubt we wor wrong in thinkin' of this
+journey. How can you, mavourneen, walk all the way to Dublin, and you so
+worn and weakly with that sickness, and the bad feedin' both before and
+since? Och, give it up, achree, and stay wid us, let what will happen.
+You're not able for sich a journey, indeed you're not. Stay wid me
+and the childher, Owen; sure we'd be so lonesome widout you--will you,
+agrah? and the Lord will do for us some other way, maybe."
+
+Owen pressed his faithful wife to his heart, and kissed her chaste lips
+with a tenderness which the heartless votaries of fashionable life can
+never know.
+
+"Kathleen, asthore," he replied, in those terms of endearment which flow
+so tenderly through the language of the people; "sure whin I remimber
+your fair young face--your yellow hair, and the light that was in your
+eyes, acushla machree--but that's gone long ago--och, don't ax me to
+stop. Isn't your lightsome laugh, whin you wor young, in my ears? and
+your step that 'ud not bend the flower of the field--Kathleen, I can't,
+indeed I can't, bear to think of what you wor, nor of what you are now,
+when in the coorse of age and natur, but a small change ought to be upon
+you! Sure I ought to make every struggle to take you and these sorrowful
+crathurs out of the state you're in."
+
+The children flocked about them, and joined their entreaties to those of
+their mother. "Father, don't lave us--we'll be lonesome if you go, and
+if my mother 'ud get unwell, who'd be to take care of her? Father, don't
+lave your own 'weeny crathurs' (a pet name he had for them)--maybe
+the meal 'ud be eat out before you'd come back; or maybe something 'ud
+happen you in that strange place."
+
+"Indeed, there's truth in what they say, Owen," said, the wife; "do
+be said by your own Kathleen for this time, and don't take sich a long
+journey upon you. Afther all, maybe, you wouldn't see him--sure the
+nabors will help us, if you could only humble yourself to ax them!"
+
+"Kathleen," said Owen, "when this is past you'll be glad I went--indeed
+you will; sure it's only the tindher feelin' of your hearts, darlins.
+Who knows what the landlord may do when I see himself, and show him
+these resates--every penny paid him by our own family. Let me go,
+acushla; it does cut me to the heart to lave yez the way yez are in,
+even for a while; but it's far worse to see your poor wasted faces,
+widout havin' it in my power to do anything for yez."
+
+He then kissed them again, one by one; and pressing the affectionate
+partner of his sorrows to his breaking heart, he bade God bless them,
+and set out in the twilight of a bitter March morning. He had not gone
+many yards from the door when little Alley ran after him in tears; he
+felt her hand upon the skirts of his coat, which, she plucked with a
+smile of affection that neither tears nor sorrow could repress. "Father,
+kiss me again," said she. He stooped down, and kissed her tenderly. The
+child then ascended a green ditch, and Owen, as he looked back, saw her
+standing upon it; her fair tresses were tossed by the blast about her
+face, as with straining eyes she watched him receding from her view.
+Kathleen and the other children stood at the door, and also with deep
+sorrow watched his form, until the angle of the bridle-road rendered him
+no longer visible; after which they returned slowly to the fire and wept
+bitterly.
+
+We believe no men are capable of bearing greater toil or privation than
+the Irish. Owen's viaticum was only two or three oaten cakes tied in a
+little handkerchief, and a few shillings in silver to pay for his bed.
+With this small stock of food and money, an oaken stick in his hand, and
+his wife's kerchief tied about his waist, he undertook a journey of one
+hundred and ten miles, in quest of a landlord who, so far from being
+acquainted with the distresses of his tenantry, scarcely knew even their
+names, and not one of them in person.
+
+Our scene now changes to the metropolis. One evening, about half past
+six o'clock, a toil-worn man turned his steps to a splendid! mansion in
+Mountjoy Square; his appearance was drooping, fatigued, and feeble. As
+he went along, he examined the numbers on the respective doors, until
+he reached a certain one--before which he stopped for a moment; he
+then stepped out upon the street, and looked through the windows, as if
+willing to ascertain whether there was any chance of his object being
+attained. Whilst in this situation a carriage rolled rapidly up, and
+stopped with a sudden check that nearly threw back the horses on their
+haunches. In an instant the thundering knock of the servant intimated
+the arrival of some person of rank; the hall door was opened, and Owen,
+availing himself of that opportunity, entered the hall. Such a visitor,
+however, was too remarkable to escape notice. The hand of the menial
+was rudely placed against his breast; and, as the usual impertinent
+interrogatories were put to him, the pampered ruffian kept pushing him
+back, until the afflicted man stood upon the upper step leading to the
+door.
+
+"For the sake of God, let me spake but two words to him. I'm his tenant;
+and I know he's too much of a jintleman to turn away a man that has
+lived upon his honor's estate, father and son, for upwards of three
+hundred years. My name's Owen ------"
+
+"You can't see him, my good fellow, at this hour. Go to Mr. M------,
+his Agent: we have company to dinner. He never speaks to a tenant on
+business; his Agent manages all that. Please, leave the way, here's more
+company."
+
+As he uttered the last word, he pushed Owen back; who, forgetting that
+the stairs were behind him, fell,--received a severe cut, and was so
+completely stunned, that he lay senseless and bleeding. Another carriage
+drove up, as the fellow now much alarmed, attempted to raise him from
+the steps; and, by order of the gentleman who came in it, he was brought
+into the hall. The circumstance now made some noise. It was whispered
+about, that one of Mr. S------'s tenants, a drunken fellow from the
+country, wanted to break in forcibly to see him; but then it was also
+asserted, that his skull was broken, and that he lay dead in the hall.
+Several of the gentlemen above stairs, on hearing that a man had
+been killed, immediately assembled about him, and, by the means of
+restoratives, he soon recovered, though the blood streamed copiously
+from the wound in the back of his head.
+
+"Who are you, my good man?" said Mr. S------.
+
+Owen looked about him rather vacantly; but soon collected himself,
+and implied in a mournful and touching tone of voice--"I'm one of
+your honor's tenants from Tubber Derg; my name is Owen M'Carthy, your
+honor--that is, if you be Mr. S------."
+
+"And pray, what brought you to town, M'Carthy?"
+
+"I wanted to make an humble appale to your honor's feelins, in regard to
+my bit of farm. I, and my poor family, your honor, have been broken down
+by hard times and the sickness of the sason--God knows how they axe."
+
+"If you wish to speak to me about that, my good man, you must know I
+refer all these matters to my Agent. Go to him--he knows them best;
+and whatever is right and proper to be done for you, he will do it.
+Sinclair, give him a crown, and send him to the ------ Dispensary, to
+get his head dressed, I say, Carthy, go to my Agent; he knows whether
+your claim is just or not, and will attend to it accordingly."
+
+"Plase, your honor, I've been wid him, and he says he can do nothin'
+whatsomever for me. I went two or three times, and couldn't see him,
+he was so busy; and, when I did get a word or two wid him, he tould me
+there was more offered for my land than I'm payin'; and that if I did
+not pay up, I must be put out, God help me!"
+
+"But I tell you, Carthy, I never interfere between him and my tenants."
+
+"Och, indeed! and it would be well, both for your honor's tenants and
+yourself, if you did, sir. Your honor ought to know, sir, more about
+us, and how we're thrated. I'm an honest man, sir, and I tell you so for
+your good."
+
+"And pray, sir," said the Agent, stepping forward, for he had arrived
+a few minutes before, and heard the last observation of M'Carthy--"pray
+how are they treated, you that know so well, and are so honest a
+man?--As for honesty, you might have referred to me for that, I think,"
+he added.
+
+"Mr. M------," said Owen, "we're thrated very badly. Sir, you needn't
+look at me, for I'm not afeerd to spake the thruth; no bullyin', sir,
+will make me say anything in your favor that you don't desarve. You've
+broken the half of them by severity; you've turned the tenants aginst
+yourself and his honor here; and I tell you now, though you're to the
+fore, that, in the coorse of a short time, there'll be bad work upon the
+estate, except his honor, here, looks into his own affairs, and hears
+the complaints of the people. Look at these resates, your honor; they'll
+show you, sir,--"
+
+"Carthy, I can hear no such language against the gentleman to whom I
+entrust the management of my property; of course, I refer the matter
+solely to him. I can do nothing in it."
+
+"Kathleen, avourneen!" claimed the poor man, as he looked up
+despairingly to heaven; "and ye, poor darlins of my heart! is this the
+news I'm to have for yez whin I go home?--As you hope for mercy, sir,
+don't turn away your ear from my petition, that I'd humbly make to
+yourself. Cowld, and hunger, and hardship, are at home before me, yer
+honor. If you'd be plased to look at these resates, you'd see that I
+always paid my rint; and 'twas sickness and the hard times--"
+
+"And your own honesty, industry, and good conduct," said the Agent,
+giving a dark and malignant sneer at him. "Carthy, it shall be my
+business to see that you do not spread a bad spirit through the tenantry
+much longer.--Sir, you have heard the fellow's admission. It is an
+implied threat he will give us much serious trouble. There is not such
+another incendiary on your property--not one, upon my honor."
+
+"Sir," said a servant, "dinner is on the table."
+
+"Sinclair," said his landlord, "give him another crown, and tell him
+to trouble me no more." Saying; which, he and the Agent went up to
+the drawing-room, and, in a moment, Owen saw a large party sweep
+down stairs, full of glee and vivacity, by whom both himself and his
+distresses were as completely forgotten as if they had never existed.
+
+He now slowly departed, and knew not whether the house-steward had given
+him money or not until he felt it in his hand. A cold, sorrowful weight
+lay upon his heart; the din of the town deadened his affliction into
+a stupor; but an overwhelming sense of his disappointment, and a
+conviction of the Agent's diabolical falsehood, entered like barbed
+arrows into his heart.
+
+On leaving the steps, he looked up to heaven in the distraction of
+his agonizing thoughts; the clouds were black and lowering--the wind
+stormy--and, as it carried them on its dark wing along the sky, he
+wished, if it were the will of God, that his head lay in the quiet
+grave-yard where the ashes of his forefathers reposed in peace. But he
+again remembered his Kathleen and their children; and the large tears of
+anguish, deep and bitter, rolled slowly down his cheeks.
+
+We will not trace him into an hospital, whither the wound on his head
+occasioned him to be sent, but simply state, that, on the second week
+after this, a man, with his head bound in a handkerchief, lame, bent,
+and evidently laboring under a severe illness or great affliction,
+might be seen toiling slowly up the little hill that commanded a view of
+Tubber Derg. On reaching the top he sat down to rest for a few minutes,
+but his eye was eagerly turned to the house which contained all that was
+dear to him on this earth. The sun was setting, and shone, with half his
+disk visible, in that dim and cheerless splendor which produces almost
+in every temperament a feeling of melancholy. His house which, in
+happier days, formed so beautiful and conspicuous an object in the
+view, was now, from the darkness of its walls, scarcely discernible.
+The position of the sun, too, rendered it more difficult to be seen; and
+Owen, for it was he, shaded his eyes with his hand, to survey it more
+distinctly. Many a harrowing thought and remembrance passed through his
+mind, as his eye traced its dim outline in the fading-light'. He had
+done his duty--he had gone to the fountain-head, with a hope that his
+simple story of affliction might be heard; but all was fruitless: the
+only gleam, of hope that opened upon their misery had now passed into
+darkness and despair for ever. He pressed his aching forehead with
+distraction as he thought of this; then clasped his hands bitterly, and
+groaned aloud.
+
+At length he rose, and proceeded with great difficulty, for the short
+rest had stiffened his weak and fatigued joints. As he approached home
+his heart sank; and as he ascended the blood-red stream which covered
+the bridle-way that led to his house, what with fatigue and affliction,
+his agitation weakened him so much that, he stopped, and leaned on his
+staff several times, that he might take breath.
+
+"It's too dark, maybe, for them to see me, or poor Kathleen would send
+the darlins to give me the _she dha veha_ (* the welcome). Kathleen,
+avourneen machree! how my heart beats wid longin' to see you, asthore,
+and to see the weeny crathurs--glory be to Him that has left them to
+me--praise and glory to His name!"
+
+He was now within a few perches of thy door; but a sudden misgiving shot
+across his heart when he saw it shut, and no appearance of smoke from
+the chimney, nor of stir or life about the house. He advanced--
+
+"Mother of glory, what's this!--But, wait, let me rap agin. Kathleen,
+Kathleen!--are you widin, avourneen? Owen--Alley--arn't ye widin,
+childhre? Alley, sure I'm come back to you all!" and he rapped more
+loudly than before. A dark breeze swept through the bushes as he spoke,
+but no voice nor sound proceeded from the house;--all was still as death
+within. "Alley!" he called once more to his little favorite; "I'm come
+home wid something for you, asthore! I didn't forget you, alanna!--I
+brought it from Dublin, all the way. Alley!" but the gloomy murmur of
+the blast was the only reply.
+
+Perhaps the most intense of all that he knew as misery was that which
+he then felt; but this state of suspense was soon terminated by the
+appearance of a neighbor who was passing.
+
+"Why, thin, Owen, but yer welcome home agin, my poor fellow; and I'm
+sorry that I haven't betther news for you, and so are all of us."
+
+He whom he addressed had almost lost the power of speech.
+
+"Frank," said he, and he wrung his hand, "What--what? was death among
+them? For the sake of heaven, spake!"
+
+The severe pressure which he received in return ran like a shoot, of
+paralysis to his heart.
+
+"Owen, you must be a man; every one pities yez, and may the Almighty
+pity and support yez! She is, indeed, Owen, gone; the weeny fair-haired
+child, your favorite Alley, is gone. Yestherday she was berrid; and
+dacently the nabors attinded the place, and sent in, as far as they
+had it, both mate and dhrink to Kathleen and the other ones. Now, Owen,
+you've heard it; trust in God, an' be a man."
+
+A deep and convulsive throe shook him to the heart. "Gone!--the
+fair-haired one!--Alley!--Alley!--the pride of both our hearts; the
+sweet, the quiet, and the sorrowful child, that seldom played wid the
+rest, but kept wid mys--! Oh, my darlin', my darlin'! gone from my eyes
+for ever!--God of glory; won't you support me this night of sorrow and
+misery!"
+
+With a sudden yet profound sense of humility, he dropped on his knees
+at the threshold, and, as the tears rolled down his convulsed cheeks,
+exclaimed, in a burst of sublime piety, not at all uncommon among our
+peasantry--"I thank you, O my God! I thank you, an' I put myself an' my
+weeny ones, my _pastchee boght_ (* my poor children) into your hands. I
+thank you, O God, for what has happened! Keep me up and support me--och,
+I want it! You loved the weeny one, and you took her; she was the light
+of my eyes, and the pulse of my broken heart, but you took her, blessed
+Father of heaven! an' we can't be angry wid you for so doin'! Still if
+you had spared her--if--if--O, blessed Father, my heart was in the very
+one you took--but I thank you, O God! May she rest in pace, now and for
+ever, Amin!"
+
+He then rose up, and slowly wiping the tears from his eyes, departed.
+
+"Let me hould your arm, Frank, dear," said he, "I'm weak and tired wid
+a long journey. Och, an' can it be that she's gone--the fair-haired
+colleen! When I was lavin' home, an' had kissed them all--'twas the
+first time we ever parted, Kathleen and I, since our marriage--the
+blessed child came over an' held up her mouth, sayin', 'Kiss me agin,
+father;' an' this was afther herself an' all of them had kissed me
+afore. But, och! oh! blessed Mother! Frank, where's my Kathleen and the
+rest?--and why are they out of their own poor place?"
+
+"Owen, I tould you awhile agone, that you must be a man. I gave you the
+worst news first, an' what's to come doesn't signify much. It was too
+dear; for if any man could live upon it you could:--you have neither
+house nor home, Owen, nor land. An ordher came from the Agint; your last
+cow was taken, so was all you had in the world--hem--barrin' a thrifle.
+No,--bad manners to it! no,--you're not widout a home anyway. The
+family's in my barn, brave and comfortable, compared to what your own
+house was, that let in the wather through the roof like a sieve; and,
+while the same barn's to the fore, never say you want a home."
+
+"God bless you, Frank, for that goodness to them and me; if you're not
+rewarded for it here you will in a betther place. Och, I long to see
+Kathleen and the childher! But I'm fairly broken down, Frank, and hardly
+able to mark the ground; and, indeed, no wondher, if you knew but all:
+still, let God's will be done! Poor Kathleen, I must bear up afore her,
+or she'll break her heart; for I know how she loved the golden-haired
+darlin' that's gone from us. Och, and how did she go, Frank, for I left
+her betther?"
+
+"Why, the poor girsha took a relapse, and wasn't strong enough to bear
+up aginst the last attack; but it's one comfort that you know she's
+happy."
+
+Owen stood for a moment, and, looking solemnly in his neighbor's face,
+exclaimed, in a deep and exhausted voice, "Frank!"
+
+"What are you goin' to say, Owen?"
+
+"The heart widin me's broke--broke!"
+
+The large tears rolled down his weather-beaten cheeks, and he proceeded
+in silence to the house of his friend. There was, however, a feeling
+of sorrow in his words and manner which Frank could not withstand. He
+grasped Owen's hand, and, in a low and broken voice, simply said--"Keep
+your spirits up--keep them up."
+
+When they came to the barn in which his helpless family had taken up
+their temporary residence, Owen stood for a moment to collect himself;
+but he was nervous, and trembled with repressed emotion. They then
+entered; and Kathleen, on seeing her beloved and affectionate husband,
+threw herself on his bosom, and for some time felt neither joy nor
+sorrow--she had swooned. The poor man embraced her with a tenderness
+at once mournful and deep. The children, on seeing their father safely
+returned, forgot their recent grief, and clung about him with gladness
+and delight. In the meantime Kathleen recovered, and Owen for many
+minutes could not check the loud and clamorous grief, now revived by
+the presence of her husband, with which the heart-broken and emaciated
+mother deplored her departed child; and Owen himself, on once more
+looking among the little ones, on seeing her little frock hanging up,
+and her stool vacant by the fire--on missing her voice and her blue
+laughing eyes--and remembering the affectionate manner in which, as with
+a presentiment of death, she held up her little mouth and offered him
+the last kiss--he slowly pulled the toys and cakes he had purchased for
+her out of his pocket, surveyed them for a moment, and then, putting
+his hands on his face, bent his head upon his bosom, and wept with the
+vehement outpouring of a father's sorrow.
+
+The reader perceives that he was a meek man; that his passions were not
+dark nor violent; he bore no revenge to those who neglected or injured
+him, and in this he differed from too many of his countrymen. No; his
+spirit was broken down with sorrow, and had not room for the fiercer and
+more destructive passions. His case excited general pity. Whatever his
+neighbors could, do to soothe him and alleviate his affliction was done.
+His farm was not taken; for fearful threats were held out against those
+who might venture to occupy it. In these threats he had nothing to do;
+on the contrary, he strongly deprecated them. Their existence, however,
+was deemed by the Agent sufficient to justify him in his callous and
+malignant severity towards him.
+
+We did not write this story for effect. Our object was to relate facts
+that occurred. In Ireland, there is much blame justly attached to
+landlords, for their neglect and severity, in such depressed times,
+towards their tenants: there is also much that is not only indefensible
+but atrocious on the part of the tenants. But can the landed proprietors
+of Ireland plead ignorance or want of education for their neglect and
+rapacity, whilst the crimes of the tenants, on the contrary, may in
+general be ascribed to both? He who lives--as, perhaps, his forefathers
+have done--upon any man's property, and fails from unavoidable calamity,
+has as just and clear a light to assistance from the landlord as if the
+amount of that aid were a bonded debt. Common policy, common sense, and
+common justice, should induce the Irish landlords to lower their rents
+according to the market for agricultural produce, otherwise poverty,
+famine, crime, and vague political speculations, founded upon idle hopes
+of a general transfer of property, will spread over and convulse the
+kingdom. Any man who looks into our poverty may see that our landlords
+ought to reduce their rents to a standard suitable to the times and to
+the ability of the tenant.
+
+But to return. Owen, for another year, struggled on for his family,
+without success; his firm spirit was broken; employment he could not
+get, and even had it been regular, he would have found it impracticable
+to support his helpless wife and children by his labor. The next year
+unhappily was also one of sickness and of want; the country was not only
+a wide waste of poverty, but overspread with typhus fever. One Saturday
+night he and the family found themselves without food; they had not
+tasted a morsel for twenty-four hours. There were murmuring and
+tears and, finally, a low conversation among them, as if they held
+a conference upon some subject which filled them with both grief and
+satisfaction. In this alternation of feeling did they pass the time
+until the sharp gnawing of hunger was relieved by sleep. A keen December
+wind blew with a bitter blast on the following morning; the rain was
+borne along upon it with violence, and the cold was chill and piercing.
+Owen, his wife, and their six children, issued at day-break out of the
+barn in which, ever since their removal from Tubber Derg, they had lived
+until then; their miserable fragments of bed-clothes were tied in a
+bundle to keep them dry; their pace was slow, need we say sorrowful; all
+were in tears. Owen and Kathleen went first, with a child upon the
+back, and another in the hand, of each. Their route lay by their former
+dwelling, the door of which was open, for it had not been inhabited. On
+passing it they stood a moment; then with a simultaneous impulse both
+approached--entered--and took one last look of a spot to which their
+hearts clung with enduring attachment. They then returned; and as they
+passed, Owen put forth his hand, picked a few small pebbles out of the
+wall, and put them in his pocket.
+
+"Farewell!" said he, "and may the blessing of God rest upon you! We
+now lave you for ever! We're goin' at last to beg our bread through the
+world wide, where none will know the happy days we passed widin your
+walls! We must lave you; but glory be to the Almighty, we are goin'
+wid a clear conscience; we took no revenge into our own hands, but left
+everything to God above us. We are poor, but there is neither blood, nor
+murder, nor dishonesty upon our heads. Don't cry, Kathleen--don't cry,
+childher; there is still a good god above who can and may do something
+for us yet, glory be to his holy name!"
+
+He then passed on with his family, which, including himself, made in
+all, eight paupers, being an additional burden upon the country, which
+might easily have been avoided. His land was about two years waste,
+and when it was ultimately taken, the house was a ruin, and the money
+allowed by the landlord for building a new one, together with the
+loss of two years' rent, would if humanely directed, have enabled Owen
+M'Carthy to remain a solvent tenant.
+
+When an Irish peasant is reduced to pauperism, he seldom commences the
+melancholy task of soliciting alms in his native place. The trial is
+always a severe one, and he is anxious to hide his shame and misery from
+the eyes of those who know him. This is one reason why some system
+of poor laws should be introduced into the country. Paupers of this
+description become a burden upon strangers, whilst those who are capable
+of entering with friendly sympathy into their misfortunes have no
+opportunity of assisting them. Indeed this shame of seeking alms from
+those who have known the mendicant in better days, is a proof that
+the absence of poor laws takes away from the poorer classes one of the
+strongest incitements to industry; for instance, if every Pauper in
+Ireland were confined to his own parish, and compelled to beg from his
+acquaintances, the sense of shame alone would, by stirring them up to
+greater industry, reduce the number of mendicants one-half. There is a
+strong spirit of family pride in Ireland, which would be sufficient to
+make many poor, of both sexes, exert themselves to the uttermost rather
+than cast a stain upon their name, or bring a blush to the face of their
+relations. But now it is not so: the mendicant sets out to beg, and in
+most instances commences his new mode of life in some distant part of
+the country, where his name and family are not known.
+
+Indeed, it is astonishing how any man can, for a moment, hesitate to
+form his opinion upon the subject of poor laws. The English and Scotch
+gentry know something about the middle and lower classes of their
+respective countries, and of course they have a fixed system of
+provision for the poor in each. The ignorance of the Irish gentry, upon
+almost every subject connected with the real good of the people, is only
+in keeping with their ignorance of the people themselves. It is to be
+feared, however, that their disinclination to introduce poor laws arises
+less from actual ignorance, than from an illiberal selfishness. The
+facts of the case are these: In Ireland the whole support of the
+inconceivable multitude of paupers, who swarm like locusts over the
+surface of the country, rests upon the middle and lower classes, or
+rather upon the latter, for there is scarcely such a thing in this
+unhappy country as a middle class. In not one out of a thousand
+instances do the gentry contribute to the mendicant poor. In the first
+place, a vast proportion of our landlords are absentees, who squander
+upon their own pleasures or vices, in the theatres, saloons, or
+gaming-houses of France, or in the softer profligacies of Italy, that
+which ought to return in some shape to stand in the place of duties
+so shamefully neglected. These persons contribute nothing to the poor,
+except the various evils which their absence entails upon them.
+
+On the other hand, the resident gentry never in any case assist a
+beggar, even in the remote parts of the country, where there are no
+Mendicity Institutions. Nor do the beggars ever think of applying to
+them. They know that his honor's dogs would be slipped at them; or that
+the whip might be laid, perhaps, to the shoulders of a broken-hearted
+father, with his brood of helpless children wanting food; perhaps, upon
+the emaciated person of a miserable widow, who begs for her orphans,
+only because the hands that supported, and would have defended both her
+and them, are mouldered into dust.
+
+Upon the middle and lower classes, therefore, comes directly the heavy
+burden of supporting the great mass of pauperism that presses upon
+Ireland. It is certain that the Irish landlords know this, and that they
+are reluctant to see any law enacted which might make the performance of
+their duties to the poor compulsory. This, indeed, is natural in men who
+have so inhumanly neglected them.
+
+But what must the state of a country be where those who are on the way
+to pauperism themselves are exclusively burdened with the support of
+the vagrant poor? It is like putting additional weight on a man already
+sinking under the burden he bears. The landlords suppose, that because
+the maintenance of the idle who are able, and of the aged and infirm who
+are not able to work, comes upon the renters of land, they themselves
+are exempted from their support. This, if true, is as bitter a stigma
+upon their humanity as upon their sense of justice: but it is not true.
+Though the cost of supporting such an incredible number of the idle
+and helpless does, in the first place, fall upon the tenant, yet, by
+diminishing his means, and by often compelling him to purchase, towards
+the end of the season, a portion of food equal to that which he has
+given away in charity, it certainly becomes ultimately a clear deduction
+from the landlord's rent. In either case it is a deduction, but in
+the latter it is often doubly so; inasmuch as the poor tenants must
+frequently pay, at the close of a season, double, perhaps treble, the
+price which provision brought at the beginning of it.
+
+Any person conversant with the Irish people must frequently have heard
+such dialogues as the following, during the application of a beggar for
+alms:--
+
+Mendicant.--"We're axin your charity for God's sake!"
+
+Poor Tenant.--"Why thin for His sake you would get it, poor crathur, if
+we had it; but it's not for you widin the four corners of the house. It
+'ud be well for us if we had now all we gave away in charity durin' the
+Whole year; we wouldn't have to be buyin' for ourselves at three prices.
+Why don't you go up to the Big House? They're rich and can afford it."
+
+Mendicant, with a shrug, which sets all his coats and bags in
+motion--"Och! och! The Big House, inagh! Musha, do you want me an' the
+childhre here, to be torn to pieces wid the dogs? or lashed wid a whip
+by one o' the sarvints? No, no, avourneen!" (with a hopeless shake of
+the head.) "That 'ud be a blue look-up, like a clear evenin'."
+
+Poor Tenant.--"Then, indeed, we haven't it to help you, now, poor man.
+We're buyin' ourselves."
+
+Mendicant.--"Thin, throth, that's lucky, so it is! I've as purty a grain
+o' male here, as you'd wish to thicken wather wid, that I sthruv to get
+together, in hopes to be able to buy a quarther o' tobaccy, along wid a
+pair o' new bades an' scapular for myself. I'm suspicious that there's
+about a stone ov it, altogether. You can have it anunder the market
+price, for I'm frettin' at not havin' the scapular an me. Sure the Lord
+will sind me an' the childhre a bit an' sup some way else--glory to his
+name!--beside a lock of praties in the corner o' the bag here, that'll
+do us for this day, any way."
+
+The bargain is immediately struck, and the poor tenant is glad to
+purchase, even from a beggar, his stone of meal, in consequence of
+getting it a few pence under market price. Such scenes as this, which
+are of frequent occurrence in the country parts of Ireland, need no
+comment.
+
+This, certainly, is not a state of things which should be permitted to
+exist. Every man ought to be compelled to support the poor of his
+native parish according to his means. It is an indelible disgrace to the
+legislature so long to have neglected the paupers of Ireland. Is it to
+bo thought of with common patience that a person rolling in wealth shall
+feed upon his turtle, his venison, and his costly luxuries of
+every description, for which he will not scruple to pay the highest
+price--that this heartless and selfish man, whether he reside at home or
+abroad, shall thus unconscionably pamper himself with viands purchased
+by the toil of the people, and yet not contribute to assist them, when
+poverty, sickness, or age, throws them upon the scanty support of casual
+charity?
+
+Shall this man be permitted to batten in luxury in a foreign land, or at
+home; to whip our paupers from his carriage; or hunt them, like beasts
+of prey, from his grounds, whilst the lower classes--the gradually
+decaying poor--are compelled to groan under the burden of their support,
+in addition to their other burdens? Surely it is not a question which
+admits of argument. This subject has been darkened and made difficult by
+fine-spun and unintelligible theories, when the only knowledge necessary
+to understand it may be gained by spending a few weeks in some poor
+village in the interior of the country. As for Parliamentary Committees
+upon this or any other subject, they are, with reverence be it spoken,
+thoroughly contemptible. They will summon and examine witnesses who, for
+the most part, know little about the habits or distresses of the poor;
+public money will be wasted in defraying their expenses and in printing
+reports; resolutions will be passed; something will be said about it
+in the House of Commons; and, in a few weeks, after resolving and
+re-resolving, it is as little thought of, as if it had never been the
+subject of investigation. In the meantime the evil proceeds--becomes
+more inveterate--eats into the already declining prosperity of the
+country--whilst those who suffer under it have the consolation of
+knowing that a Parliamentary Committee sat longer upon it than so many
+geese upon their eggs, but hatched nothing. Two circumstances, connected
+with pauperism in Ireland, are worthy of notice. The first is this--the
+Roman Catholics, who certainly constitute the bulk of the population,
+feel themselves called upon, from the peculiar tenets of their religion,
+to exercise indiscriminate charity largely to the begging poor. They act
+under the impression that eleemosynary good works possess the power of
+cancelling sin to an extent almost incredible. Many of their religious
+legends are founded upon this view of the case; and the reader will find
+an appropriate one in the Priest's sermon, as given in our tale of the
+"Poor Scholar." That legend is one which the author has many a time
+heard from the lips of the people, by whom it was implicitly believed.
+A man who may have committed a murder overnight, will the next day
+endeavor to wipe away his guilt by alms given for the purpose of getting
+the benefit of "the poor man's prayer." The principle of assisting our
+distressed fellow-creatures, when rationally exercised, is one of the
+best in society; but here it becomes entangled with error, superstition,
+and even with crime--acts as a bounty upon imposture, and in some degree
+predisposes to guilt, from an erroneous belief that sin may be cancelled
+by alms and the prayers of mendicant impostors. The second point, in
+connection with pauperism, is the immoral influence that I proceeds
+from the relation in which the begging poor in Ireland stand towards the
+class by whom they are supported. These, as we have already said,
+are the poorest, least educated, and consequently the most ignorant
+description of the people. They are also the most numerous. There have
+been for centuries, probably since the Reformation itself, certain
+opinions floating among the lower classes in Ireland, all tending to
+prepare them for some great change in their favor, arising from
+the discomfiture of heresy, the overthrow of their enemies, and the
+exaltation of themselves and their religion.
+
+Scarcely had the public mind subsided after the Rebellion of
+Ninety-eight, when the success of Buonaparte directed the eyes and the
+hopes of the Irish people towards him, as the person designed to be
+their deliverer. Many a fine fiction has the author of this work heard
+about that great man's escapes, concerning the bullets that conveniently
+turned aside from his person, and the sabres that civilly declined to
+cut him down. Many prophecies too were related, in which the glory of
+this country under his reign was touched off in the happiest colors.
+Pastorini also gave such notions an impulse. Eighteen twenty-five was
+to be the year of their deliverance: George the Fourth was never to fill
+the British throne; and the mill of Lowth was to be turned three times
+with human blood. "The miller with the two thumbs was then living,"
+said the mendicants, for they were the principal propagators of these
+opinions, and the great expounders of their own prophecies; so that of
+course there could be no further doubt upon the subject. Several of them
+had seen him, a red-haired man with broad shoulders, stout legs, exactly
+such as a miller ought to have, and two thumbs on his right hand; all
+precisely as the prophecy had stated. Then there was _Beal-derg_, and
+several others of the fierce old Milesian chiefs, who along with their
+armies lay in an enchanted sleep, all ready to awake and take a part in
+the delivery of the country. "Sure such a man," and they would name one
+in the time of the mendicant's grandfather, "was once going to a fair to
+sell a horse--well and good; the time was the dawn of morning, a little
+before daylight: he met a man who undertook to purchase his horse; they
+agreed upon the price, and the seller of him followed the buyer into
+a Bath, where he found a range of horses, each with an armed soldier
+asleep by his side, ready to spring upon him if awoke. The purchaser
+cautioned the owner of the horse as they were about to enter the
+subterraneous dwelling, against touching either horse or man; but the
+countryman happening to stumble, inadvertently laid his hand, upon a
+sleeping soldier, who immediately leaped up, drew his sword, and asked,
+'Wuil anam inh?' 'Is the time in it? Is the time arrived?' To which the
+horse-dealer of the Bath replied, '_Ha niel. Gho dhee collhow areesht_.'
+'No: go to sleep again.' Upon this the soldier immediately sank down in
+his former position, and unbroken sleep reigned throughout the cave."
+The influence on the warm imaginations of an ignorant people, of such
+fictions concocted by vagrant mendicants, is very pernicious. They fill
+their minds with the most palpable absurdities, and, what is worse, with
+opinions, which, besides being injurious to those who receive them, in
+every instance insure for those who propagate them a cordial and kind
+reception.
+
+These mendicants consequently pander, for their own selfish ends, to the
+prejudices of the ignorant, which they nourish and draw out in a
+manner that has in no slight degree been subversive of the peace of the
+country. Scarcely any political circumstance occurs which they do not
+immediately seize upon and twist to their own purposes, or, in other
+words, to the opinions of those from whom they derive their support.
+When our present police first appeared in their uniforms and black
+belts, another prophecy, forsooth, was fulfilled. Immediately before the
+downfall of heresy, a body of "Black Militia" was to appear; the police,
+then, are the black militia, and the people consider themselves another
+step nearer the consummation of their vague speculations.
+
+In the year Ninety-eight, the Irish mendicants were active agents,
+clever spies, and expert messengers on the part of the people; and to
+this day they carry falsehood, and the materials of outrage in its worst
+shape, into the bosom of peaceable families, who would, otherwise, never
+become connected with a system which is calculated to bring ruin and
+destruction upon those who permit themselves to join it.
+
+This evil, and it is no trifling one, would, by the introduction of
+poor-laws, be utterly abolished, the people would not only be more
+easily improved, but education, when received, would not be corrupted
+by the infusion into it of such ingredients as the above. In many other
+points of view, the confirmed and hackneyed mendicants of Ireland are a
+great evil to the morals of the people. We could easily detail them, but
+such not being our object at present, we will now dismiss the subject of
+poor-laws, and resume our narrative.
+
+Far--far different from this description of impostors, were Owen
+M'Carthy and his family. Their misfortunes were not the consequences
+of negligence or misconduct on their own part. They struggled long but
+unavailingly against high rents and low markets; against neglect on the
+part of the landlord and his agent; against sickness, famine, and death.
+They had no alternative but to beg or starve. Owen was willing to
+work, but he could not procure employment: and provided he could, the
+miserable sum of sixpence a day, when food was scarce and dear, would
+not support him, his wife, and six little ones. He became a pauper,
+therefore, only to avoid starvation.
+
+Heavy and black was his heart, to use the strong expression of the
+people, on the bitter morning when he set out to encounter the dismal
+task of seeking alms, in order to keep life in himself and his family.
+The plan was devised on the preceding night, but to no mortal, except
+his wife, was it communicated. The honest pride of a man whose mind was
+above committing a mean action, would not permit him to reveal what he
+considered the first stain that ever was known to rest upon the name of
+M'Carthy; he therefore sallied out under the beating of the storm,
+and proceeded, without caring much whither he went, until he got
+considerably beyond the bounds of his own parish.
+
+In the meantime hunger pressed deeply upon him and them. The day had
+no appearance of clearing up; the heavy rain and sleet beat into their
+thin, worn garments, and the clamor of his children for food began to
+grow more and more importunate. They came to the shelter of a hedge
+which inclosed on one side a remote and broken road, along which,
+in order to avoid the risk of being recognized, they had preferred
+travelling. Owen stood here for a few minutes to consult with his wife,
+as to where and when they should "make a beginning;" but on looking
+round, he found her in tears.
+
+"Kathleen, asthore," said he, "I can't bid you not to cry; bear up,
+acushla machree; bear up: sure, as I said when we came out this mornin',
+there's a good God above us, that can still turn over the good lafe for
+us, if we put our hopes in him."
+
+"Owen," said his sinking wife, "it's not altogether bekase we're brought
+to this that I'm cryin'; no, indeed."
+
+"Thin what ails you, Kathleen darlin'?"
+
+The wife hesitated, and evaded the question for some time; but at
+length, upon his pressing her for an answer, with a fresh gush of
+sorrow, she replied,
+
+"Owen, since you must know--och, may God pity us!--since you must know,
+it's wid hunger--wid hunger! I kept, unknownst, a little bit of bread
+to give the childhre this mornin', and that was part of it I gave you
+yesterday early--I'm near two days fastin'."
+
+"Kathleen! Kathleen! Och! sure I know your worth, avillish. You were too
+good a wife, an' too good a mother, a'most! God forgive me, Kathleen! I
+fretted about beginnin', dear; but as my Heavenly Father's above me, I'm
+now happier to beg wid you by my side, nor if I war in the best house
+of the province widout you! Hould up, avour-neen, for a while. Come on,
+childhre, darlins, an' the first house we meet we'll ax their char--,
+their assistance. Come on, darlins, and all of yees. Why my heart's
+asier, so it is. Sure we have your mother, childhre, safe wid us, an'
+what signifies anything so long as she's left to us?"
+
+He then raised his wife tenderly, for she had been compelled to sit from
+weakness, and they bent their steps to a decent farmhouse that stood a
+few perches off the road, about a quarter of a mile before them.
+
+As they approached the door, the husband hesitated a moment; his face
+got paler than usual, and his lip quivered, as he said--"Kathleen--"
+
+"I know what you're goin' to say, Owen. No, acushla, you won't; I'll ax
+it myself."
+
+"Do," said Owen, with difficulty; "I can't do it; but I'll overcome my
+pride afore long, I hope. It's thryin' to me, Kathleen, an' you know it
+is--for you know how little I ever expected to be brought to this."
+
+"Husht, avillish! We'll thry, then, in the name o' God."
+
+As she spoke, the children, herself, and her husband entered, to beg,
+for the first time in their lives, a morsel of food. Yes! timidly--with
+a blush, of shame, red even to crimson, upon the pallid features
+of Kathleen--with grief acute and piercing--they entered the house
+together.
+
+For some minutes they stood and spoke not. The unhappy woman,
+unaccustomed to the language of supplication, scarcely knew in what
+terms to crave assistance. Owen himself stood back, uncovered, his
+fine, but much changed features overcast with an expression of
+deep affliction. Kathleen cast a single glance, at him, as if for
+encouragement. Their eyes met; she saw the upright man--the last remnant
+of the M'Carthy--himself once the friend of the poor, of the unhappy, of
+the afflicted--standing crushed and broken down by misfortunes which he
+had not deserved, waiting with patience for a morsel of charity. Owen,
+too, had his remembrances. He recollected the days when he sought and
+gained the pure and fond affections of his Kathleen: when beauty, and
+youth, and innocence encircled her with their light and their grace, as
+she spoke or moved; he saw her a happy wife and mother in her own
+home, kind and benevolent to all who required her good word or her good
+office, and remembered the sweetness of her light-hearted song; but now
+she was homeless. He remembered, too, how she used to plead with himself
+for the afflicted. It was but a moment; yet when their eyes met, that
+moment was crowded by recollections that flashed across their minds with
+a keen, sense of a lot so bitter and wretched as theirs. Kathleen could
+not speak, although she tried; her sobs denied her utterance; and Owen
+involuntarily sat upon a chair, and covered his face with his hand.
+
+To an observing eye it is never difficult to detect the cant of
+imposture, or to perceive distress when it is real. The good woman of
+the house, as is usual in Ireland, was in the act of approaching them,
+unsolicited, with a double handful of meal--that is what the Scotch and
+northern Irish call a goivpen, or as much as both hands locked together
+can contain--when, noticing their distress, she paused a moment, eyed
+them more closely, and exclaimed--
+
+"What's this? Why there's something wrong wid you, good people! But
+first an' foremost take this, in the name an' honor of God."
+
+"May the blessin' of the same _Man_* rest upon yees!" replied Kathleen.
+"This is a sorrowful thrial to us; for it's our first day to be upon the
+world; an' this is the first help of the kind we ever axed for, or ever
+got; an' indeed now I find we haven't even a place to carry it in. I've
+no--b--b--cloth, or anything to hould it."
+
+     * God is sometimes thus termed in Ireland. By "Man"
+     here is meant person or being. He is also called the
+     "Man above;" although this must have been intended for,
+     and often is applied to, Christ only.
+
+"Your first, is it?" said the good woman. "Your first! May the marciful
+queen o' heaven look down upon yees, but it's a bitther day yees war
+driven out in! Sit down, there, you poor crathur. God pity you, I pray
+this day, for you have a heart-broken look! Sit down awhile, near the
+fire, you an' the childre! Come over, darlins, an' warm yourselves. Och,
+oh! but it's a thousand pities to see sich fine childre--handsome an'
+good lookin' even as they are, brought to this! Come over, good man; get
+near the fire, for you're wet an' could all of ye. Brian, ludher them
+two lazy thieves o' dogs out o' that. _Eiree suas, a wadhee bradagh,
+agus go mah a shin!_--be off wid yez, ye lazy divils, that's not worth
+your feedin'! Come over, honest man." Owen and his family were placed
+near the fire; the poor man's heart was full, and he sighed heavily.
+
+"May He that is plased to thry us," he exclaimed, "reward you for this!
+We are," he continued, "a poor an' a sufferin' family; but it's the
+will of God that we should be so; an' sure we can't complain widout
+committin' sin. All we ax now, is, that it may be plasin' to him that
+brought us low, to enable us to bear up undher our thrials. We would
+take it to our choice to beg an' be honest, sooner, nor to be wealthy,
+an' wicked! We have our failings, an' our sins, God help us; but still
+there's nothin' dark or heavy on our consciences. Glory be to the name
+o' God for it!"
+
+"Throth, I believe you," replied the farmer's wife; "there's thruth an'
+honesty in your face; one may easily see the remains of dacency about
+you all. Musha, throw your little things aside, an' stay where ye are
+today: you can't bring out the childre under the teem of rain an' sleet
+that's in it. Wurrah dheelish, but it's the bitther day all out! Faix,
+Paddy will get a dhrookin, so he will, at that weary fair wid the
+stirks, poor bouchal--a son of ours that's gone to Bally-boulteen to
+sell some cattle, an' he'll not be worth three hapuns afore he comes
+back. I hope he'll have sinse to go into some house, when he's done,
+an' dhry himself well, anyhow, besides takin' somethin' to keep out the
+could. Put by your things, an' don't, think of goin' out sich a day."
+
+"We thank you," replied Owen. "Indeed we're glad to stay undher your
+roof; for poor things, they're badly able to thravel sich a day--these
+childre."
+
+"Musha, ye ate no breakfast, maybe?" Owen and his family were silent.
+The children looked wistfully at their parents, anxious that they should
+confirm what the good woman surmised; the father looked again at his
+famished brood and his sinking wife, and nature overcame him.
+
+"Food did not crass our lips this day," replied Owen; "an' I may say
+hardly anything yestherday."
+
+"Oh, blessed mother! Here, Katty Murray, drop scrubbin' that dresser,
+an' put down, the midlin' pot for stirabout. Be livin' _manim an
+diouol_, woman alive, handle yourself; you might a had it boilin' by
+this. God presarve us!--to be two days widout atin! Be the crass, Katty,
+if you're not alive, I'll give you a douse o' the churnstaff that'll
+bring the fire to your eyes! Do you hear me?"
+
+"I do hear you, an' did often feel you, too, for fraid hearin' wouldn't
+do. You think there's no places in the world but your own, I b'lieve.
+Faix, indeed! it's well come up wid us, to be randied about wid no less
+a switch than a churnstaff!"
+
+"Is it givin' back talk, you are? Bad end to me, if you look crucked but
+I'll lave you a mark to remimber me by. What woman 'ud put up wid you
+but myself, you shkamin flipe? It wasn't to give me your bad tongue I
+hired you, but to do your business; and be the crass above us, if you
+turn your tongue on me agin, I'll give you the weight o' the churnstaff.
+Is it bekase they're poor people that it plased God to bring to this,
+that you turn up your nose at doin' anything to sarve them? There's not
+wather enough there, I say--put in more what signifies all the stirabout
+that 'ud make? Put plinty in: it's betther always to have too much than
+too little. Faix, I tell you, you'll want a male's meat an' a night's
+lodgin' afore you die, if you don't mend your manners."
+
+"Och, musha, the poor girl is doin' her best," observed Kathleen; "an'
+I'm sure she wouldn't be guilty of usin' pride to the likes of us, or to
+any one that the Lord has laid his hand upon."
+
+"She had betther not, while I'm to the fore," said her mistress. "What
+is she herself? Sure if it was a sin to be poor, God help the world. No;
+it's neither a sin nor a shame."
+
+"Thanks be to God, no," said Owen: "it's neither the one nor the other.
+So long as we keep a fair name, an' a clear conscience, we can't ever
+say that our case is hard."
+
+After some further conversation, a comfortable breakfast was prepared
+for them, of which they partook with an appetite sharpened by their long
+abstinence from food. Their stay here was particularly fortunate, for as
+they were certain of a cordial welcome, and an abundance of that which
+they much wanted--wholesome food--the pressure of immediate distress
+was removed. They had time to think more accurately upon the little
+preparations for misery which were necessary, and, as the day's leisure
+was at their disposal, Kathleen's needle and scissors were industriously
+plied in mending the tattered clothes of her husband and her children,
+in order to meet the inclemency of the weather.
+
+On the following morning, after another abundant breakfast, and
+substantial marks of kindness from their entertainers, they prepared
+to resume their new and melancholy mode of life. As they were about to
+depart, the farmer's wife addressed them in the following terms--the
+farmer himself, by the way, being but the shadow of his worthy partner
+in life--
+
+Wife--"Now, good people, you're takin' the world on your heads--"
+
+Farmer--"Ay, good people, you're takin' the world on your heads--"
+
+Wife--"Hould your tongue, Brian, an' suck your dhudeen. It's me that's
+spakin' to them, so none of your palaver, if you plase, till I'm done,
+an' then you may prache till Tib's Eve, an' that's neither before
+Christmas nor afther it."
+
+Farmer--"Sure I'm sayin' nothin', Elveen, barrin' houldin' my tongue, a
+shuchar" (* my sugar).
+
+Wife--"Your takin' the world on yez, an' God knows 'tis a heavy load to
+carry, poor crathurs."
+
+Farmer--"A heavy load, poor crathurs! God he knows it's that."
+
+Wife--"Brian! _Gluntho ma?_--did you hear me? You'll be puttin' in your
+gab, an' me spakin'? How-an-iver, as I was sayin', our house was the
+first ye came to, an' they say there's a great blessin' to thim that
+gives, the first charity to a poor man or woman settin' out to look for
+their bit."
+
+Farmer--"Throgs, ay! Whin they set out; to look for their bit."
+
+Wife--"By the crass, Brian, you'd vex a saint. What have you to say in
+it, you _pittiogue_?* Hould your whisht now, an' suck your dhudeen, I
+say; sure I allow you a quarther o' tobaccy a week, an' what right have
+you to be puttin' in your gosther when other people's spakin'?"
+
+     * Untranslatable--but means a womanly man a poor,
+     effeminate creature.
+
+Farmer--"Go an."
+
+Wife--"So, you see, the long an' the short of it is that whenever you
+happen to be in this side of the counthry, always come to us. You know
+the ould sayin'--when the poor man comes he brings a blessin', an' when
+he goes he carries away a curse. You have as much, meal as will last yez
+a day or two; an' God he sees you're heartily welcome to all ye got?"
+
+Farmer--"God he sees you're heartily welcome--"
+
+Wife--"_Chorp an diouol_, Brian, hould your tongue, Or I'll turn you out
+o' the kitchen. One can't hear their own ears for you, you poor squakin'
+dhrone. By the crass, I'll--eh? Will you whisht, now?"
+
+Farmer--"Go an. Amn't I dhrawin' my pipe?"
+
+Wife--"Well dhraw it; but don't dhraw me down upon you, barrin--. Do you
+hear me? an' the sthrange people to the fore, too! Well, the Lord be wid
+yez, an' bless yez! But afore yez go, jist lave your blessin' wid us;
+for it's a good thing to have the blessin' of the poor?"
+
+"The Lord bless you, an yours!" said Owen, fervently. "May you and them
+never--oh, may you never--never suffer what we've suffered; nor know
+what it is to want a male's mate, or a night's lodgin'!"
+
+"Amin!" exclaimed Kathleen; "may the world flow upon you! for your good,
+kind heart desarves it."
+
+Farmer--"An' whisper; I wish you'd offer up a prayer for the rulin' o'
+the tongue. The Lord might hear you, but there's no great hopes that
+ever he'll hear me; though I've prayed for it almost ever since I was
+married, night an' day, winther and summer; but no use, she's as bad as
+ever."
+
+This was said in a kind of friendly insinuating undertone to Owen; who,
+on hearing it, simply nodded his head, but made no other reply.
+
+They then recommenced their journey, after having once more blessed,
+and been invited by their charitable entertainers, who made them promise
+never to pass their house without stopping a night with them.
+
+It is not our intention to trace Owen M'Carthy and his wife through
+all the variety which a wandering pauper's life affords. He never could
+reconcile himself to the habits of a mendicant. His honest pride and
+integrity of heart raised him above it: neither did he sink into the
+whine and cant of imposture, nor the slang of knavery. No; there was
+a touch of manly sorrow about him, which neither time, nor familiarity
+with his degraded mode of life, could take away from him. His usual
+observation to his wife, and he never made it without a pang of intense
+bitterness, was--"Kathleen, dar-lin', it's thrue we have enough to ate
+an' to dhrink; but we have no home--no home!" to a man like him it was a
+thought of surpassing bitterness, indeed.
+
+"Ah! Kathleen," he would observe, "if we had but the poorest shed that
+could be built, provided it was our own, wouldn't we be happy? The bread
+we ate, avourneen, doesn't do us good. We don't work for it; it's the
+bread of shame and idleness: and yet it's Owen M'Carthy that ates it!
+But, avourneen, that's past; an' we'll never see our own home, or
+our own hearth agin. That's what's cuttin' into my heart, Kathleen.
+Never!--never!"
+
+Many a trial, too, of another kind, was his patience called upon to
+sustain; particularly from the wealthy and the more elevated in
+life, when his inexperiences as a mendicant led him to solicit their
+assistance.
+
+"Begone, sirrah, off my grounds!" one would say. "Why don't you work,
+you sturdy impostor," another would exclaim, "rather than stroll about
+so lazily, training your brats to the gallows?"
+
+"You should be taken up, fellow, as a vagrant," a third would observe;
+"and if I ever catch you coming up my avenue again, depend upon it, I
+will slip my dogs at you and your idle spawn."
+
+Owen, on these occasions, turned away in silence; he did not curse them;
+but the pangs of his honest heart went before Him who will, sooner or
+later, visit upon the heads of such men their cruel spurning and neglect
+of the poor.
+
+"Kathleen," he observed to his wife, one day, about a, year or more
+after they had begun to beg; "Kathleen, I have been turnin' it in my
+mind, that some of these childhre might sthrive to earn their bit an'
+sup, an' their little coverin' of clo'es, poor things. We might put them
+to herd cows in the summer, an' the girshas to somethin' else in the
+farmers' house. What do you think, asthore?"
+
+"For God's sake do, Owen; sure my heart's crushed to see them--my own
+childhre, that I could lay down my life for--beggin' from door to door.
+Och, do something for them that way, Owen, an' you'll relieve the heart
+that loves them. It's a sore sight to a mother's eye, Owen, to see her
+childhre beggin' their morsel."
+
+"It is darlin'--it is; we'll hire out the three eldest--Brian, an' Owen,
+an' Pether, to herd cows; an' we may get Peggy into some farmer's
+house to do loose jobs an' run of messages. Then we'd have only little
+Kathleen an' poor Ned along wid us. I'll try any way, an' if I can get
+them places, who knows what may happen? I have a plan in my head that
+I'll tell you, thin."
+
+"Arrah, what is it, Owen, jewel. Sure if I know it, maybe when I'm
+sorrowful, that thinkin' of it, an' lookin' forrid to it will make me
+happier. An' I'm sure, acushla, you would like that."
+
+"But maybe, Kathleen, if it wouldn't come to pass, that the
+disappointment 'ud be heavy on you?"
+
+"How could it, Owen? Sure we can't be worse nor we are, whatever
+happens?"
+
+"Thrue enough, indeed, I forgot that; an' yet we might, Kathleen. Sure
+we'd be worse, if we or the childhre had bad health."
+
+"God forgive me thin, for what I said! We might be worse. Well, but what
+is the plan, Owen?"
+
+"Why, when we got the childhre places, I'll sthrive to take a little
+house, an' work as a cottar. Then, Kathleen, we'd have a home of our
+own. I'd work from light to light; I'd work before hours an' afther
+hours; ay, nine days in the week, or we'd be comfortable in our own
+little home. We might be poor, Kathleen, I know that, an' hard pressed
+too; but then, as I said, we'd have our own home, an' our own hearth;
+our morsel, if it 'ud be homely, would be sweet, for it would be the
+fruits of our own labor."
+
+"Now, Owen, do you think you could manage to get that?"
+
+"Wait, acushla, till we get the childhre settled. Then I'll thry the
+other plan, for it's good to thry anything that could take us out of
+this disgraceful life."
+
+This humble speculation was a source of great comfort to them. Many
+a time have they forgotten their sorrows in contemplating the simple
+picture of their happy little cottage. Kathleen, in particular, drew
+with all the vivid coloring of a tender mother, and an affectionate
+wife, the various sources of comfort and contentment to be found even
+in a cabin, whose inmates are blessed with a love of independence,
+industry, and mutual affection.
+
+Owen, in pursuance of his intention, did not neglect, when the proper
+season arrived, to place out his eldest children among the farmers.
+The reader need not be told that there was that about him which gained
+respect. He had, therefore, little trouble in obtaining his wishes on
+this point, and to his great satisfaction, he saw three of them hired
+out to earn their own support.
+
+It was now a matter of some difficulty for him to take a cabin and get
+employment. They had not a single article of furniture, and neither bed
+nor bedding, with the exception of blankets almost worn past use. He was
+resolved, however, to give up, at all risks, the life of a mendicant.
+For this purpose, he and the wife agreed to adopt a plan quite usual in
+Ireland, under circumstances somewhat different from his: this was,
+that Kathleen should continue to beg for their support, until the
+first half-year of their children's service should expire; and in the
+meantime, that he, if possible, should secure employment for himself.
+By this means, his earnings and that of his children might remain
+untouched, so that in half a year he calculated upon being able to
+furnish a cabin, and proceed, as a cotter, to work for, and support his
+young children and his wife, who determined, on her part, not to be idle
+any more than her husband. As the plan was a likely one, and as Owen
+was bent on earning his bread, rather than be a burthen to others, it
+is unnecessary to say that it succeeded. In less than a year he found
+himself once more in a home, and the force of what he felt on sitting,
+for the first time since his pauperism, at his own hearth, may easily be
+conceived by the reader. For some years after this, Owen got on slowly
+enough; his wages as a daily laborer being so miserable, that it
+required him to exert every nerve to keep the house over their head.
+What, however, will not carefulness and a virtuous determination, joined
+to indefatigable industry, do?
+
+After some time, backed as he was by his wife, and even by his youngest
+children, he, found himself beginning to improve. In the mornings and
+evenings he cultivated his garden and his rood of potato-ground. He also
+collected with a wheelbarrow, which he borrowed, from an acquaintance,
+compost from the neighboring road; scoured an old drain before his door;
+dug rich earth, and tossed, it into the pool of rotten water beside the
+house, and in fact adopted several other modes of collecting manure. By
+this means he had, each spring, a large portion of rich stuff on which
+to plant his potatoes. His landlord permitted him to spread this for
+planting upon his land; and Owen, ere long, instead of a rood, was able
+to plant half an acre, and ultimately, an acre of potatoes. The produce
+of this, being more than sufficient for the consumption of his family,
+he sold the surplus, and with the money gained by the sale was enabled
+to sow half an acre of oats, of which, when made into meal, he disposed
+of the greater share.
+
+Industry is capital; for even when unaided by capital it creates it;
+whereas, idleness with capital produces only poverty and ruin. Owen,
+after selling his meal and as much potatoes as he could spare, found
+himself able to purchase a cow. Here was the means of making more
+manure; he had his cow, and he had also straw enough for her provender
+during the winter. The cow by affording milk to his family, enabled them
+to live more cheaply; her butter they sold, and this, in addition to his
+surplus meal and potatoes every year, soon made him feel that he had a
+few guineas to spare. He now bethought him of another mode of helping
+himself forward in the world: after buying the best "slip" of a pig he
+could find, a sty was built for her, and ere long he saw a fine litter
+of young pigs within a snug shed. These he reared until they were about
+two months old, when he sold them, and found that he had considerably
+gained by the transaction. This, department, however, was under the
+management of Kathleen, whose life was one of incessant activity and
+employment. Owen's children, during the period of his struggles and
+improvements, were, by his advice, multiplying their little capital as
+fast as himself. The two boys, who had now shot up into the stature of
+young men, were at work as laboring servants in the neighborhood. The
+daughters were also engaged as servants with the adjoining farmers. The
+boys bought each a pair of two-year old heifers, and the daughter one.
+These they sent to graze up in the mountains at a trifling charge, for
+the first year or two: when they became springers, they put them to rich
+infield grass for a few months, until they got a marketable appearance,
+after which their father brought them to the neighboring fairs, where
+they usually sold to great advantage, in consequence of the small outlay
+required in rearing them.
+
+In fact, the principle of industry ran through the family. There was
+none of them idle; none of them a burthen or a check upon the profits
+made by the laborer. On the contrary, "they laid their shoulders
+together," as the phrase is, and proved to the world, that when the
+proper disposition is followed up by suitable energy and perseverance,
+it must generally reward him who possesses it.
+
+It is certainly true that Owen's situation in life now was essentially
+different from that which it had been during the latter years of his
+struggles an a farmer. It was much more favorable, and far better
+calculated to develop successful exertion. If there be a class of men
+deserving public sympathy, it is that of the small farmers of Ireland.
+Their circumstances are fraught with all that is calculated to depress
+and ruin them; rents far above their ability, increasing poverty, and
+bad markets. The land which, during the last war, might have enabled the
+renter to pay three pounds per acre, and yet still maintain himself with
+tolerable comfort, could not now pay more than one pound, or, at the
+most, one pound ten; and yet, such is the infatuation of landlords,
+that, in most instances, the terms of leases taken out then are
+rigorously exacted. Neither can the remission of yearly arrears be said
+to strike at the root of the evils under which they suffer. The fact
+of the disproportionate rent hanging over them is a disheartening
+circumstance, that paralyzes their exertion, and sinks their spirits. If
+a landlord remit the rent for one term, he deals more harshly with the
+tenant at the next; whatever surplus, if any, his former indulgence
+leaves in the tenant's hands, instead of being expended upon his
+property as capital, and being permitted to lay the foundation of
+hope and prosperity, is drawn from him, at next term, and the poor,
+struggling tenant is thrown back into as much distress, embarrassment,
+and despondency as ever. There are, I believe, few tenants in Ireland
+of the class I allude to, who are not from one gale to three in arrear.
+Now, how can it be expected that such men will labor with spirit and
+earnestness to raise crops which they may never reap? crops which the
+landlord may seize upon to secure as much of his rent as he can.
+
+I have known a case in which the arrears were not only remitted, but the
+rent lowered to a reasonable standard, such as, considering the markets,
+could be paid. And what was the consequence? The tenant who was looked
+upon as a negligent man, from whom scarcely any rent could be got, took
+courage, worked his farm with a spirit and success which he had not
+evinced before; and ere long was in a capacity to pay his gales to the
+very day; so that the judicious and humane landlord was finally a gainer
+by his own excellent economy. This was an experiment, and it succeeded
+beyond expectation.
+
+Owen M'Carthy did not work with more zeal and ability as an humble
+cotter than he did when a farmer; but the tide was against him as a
+landholder, and instead of having advanced, he actually lost ground
+until he became a pauper. No doubt the peculiarly unfavorable run of two
+hard seasons, darkened by sickness and famine, were formidable obstacles
+to him; but he must eventually have failed, even had they not occurred.
+They accelerated his downfall, but did not cause it.
+
+The Irish people, though poor, are exceedingly anxious to be
+independent. Their highest ambition is to hold a farm. So strong is this
+principle in them, that they will, without a single penny of capital, or
+any visible means to rely on, without consideration or forethought, come
+forward and offer a rent which, if they reflected only for a moment,
+they must feel to be unreasonably high. This, indeed, is a great evil
+in Ireland. But what, in the meantime, must we think of those imprudent
+landlords, and their more imprudent agents, who let their land to
+such persons, without proper inquiry into their means, knowledge of
+agriculture, and general character as moral and industrious men? A farm
+of land is to be let; it is advertised through the parish; application
+is to be made before such a day, to so and so. The day arrives, the
+agent or the land-steward looks over the proposals, and after singling
+out the highest, bidder, declares him tenant, as a matter of course.
+Now, perhaps, this said tenant does not possess a shilling in the
+world, nor a shilling's worth. Most likely he is a new-married man,
+with nothing but his wife's bed and bedding, his wedding-suit, and his
+blackthorn cudgel, which we may suppose him to keep in reserve for the
+bailiff. However, he commences his farm; and then follow the shiftings,
+the scramblings, and the fruitless struggles to succeed, where success
+is impossible. His farm is not half tilled; his crops are miserable; the
+gale-day has already passed; yet, he can pay nothing until he takes it
+out of the land. Perhaps he runs away--makes a moonlight flitting--and,
+by the aid of his friends, succeeds in bringing the crop with him. The
+landlord, or agent, declares he is a knave; forgetting that the man
+had no other alternative, and that they were the greater knaves and
+fools too, for encouraging him to undertake a task that was beyond his
+strength.
+
+In calamity we are anxious to derive support from the sympathy of our
+friends; in our success, we are eager to communicate to them the power
+of participating in our happiness. When Owen once more found himself
+independent and safe, he longed to realize two plans on which he had
+for some time before been seriously thinking. The first was to visit his
+former neighbors, that they might at length know that Owen McCarthy's
+station in the world was such as became his character. The second was,
+if possible, to take a farm in his native parish, that he might close
+his days among the companions of his youth, and the friends of his
+maturer years. He had, also, another motive; there lay the burying-place
+of the M'Carthys, in which slept the mouldering dust of his own
+"golden-haired" Alley. With them--in his daughter's grave--he intended
+to sleep his long sleep. Affection for the dead is the memory of the
+heart. In no other graveyard could he reconcile it to himself to be
+buried; to it had all his forefathers been gathered; and though
+calamity had separated him from the scenes where they had passed through
+existence, yet he was resolved that death should not deprive him of its
+last melancholy consolation;--that of reposing with all that remained of
+the "departed," who had loved him, and whom he had loved. He believed,
+that to neglect this, would be to abandon a sacred duty, and felt sorrow
+at the thought of being like an absent guest from the assembly of his
+own dead; for there is a principle of undying hope in the heart, that
+carries, with bold and beautiful imagery, the realities of life into the
+silent recesses of death itself.
+
+Having formed the resolution of visiting his old friends at Tubber Derg,
+he communicated it to Kathleen and his family; Ids wife received the
+intelligence with undisguised delight.
+
+"Owen," she replied, "indeed I'm glad you mintioned it. Many a time the
+thoughts of our place, an' the people about it, comes over me. I know,
+Owen, it'll go to your heart to see it; but still, avourneen, you'd
+like, too, to see the ould faces an' the warm hearts of them that pitied
+us, an' helped us, as well as they could, whin we war broken down."
+
+"I would, Kathleen; but I'm not going merely to see thim an' the place.
+I intind, if I can, to take a bit of land somewhere near Tubber Derg.
+I'm unasy in my mind, for 'fraid I'd not sleep in the grave-yard where
+all belongin' to me lie."
+
+A chord of the mother's heart was touched; and in a moment the memory of
+their beloved child brought the tears to her eyes.
+
+"Owen, avourneen, I have one requist to ax of you, an' I'm sure you
+won't refuse it to me; if I die afore you, let me be buried wid Alley.
+Who has a right to sleep so near her as her own mother?"
+
+"The child's in my heart still," said Owen, suppressing his emotion;
+"thinkin' of the unfortunate mornin' I wint to Dublin, brings her
+back to me. I see her standin', wid her fair pale face--pale--oh, my
+God!--wid hunger an' sickness--her little thin clo'es, an' her goolden
+hair, tossed about by the dark blast--the tears in her eyes, an' the
+smile, that she once had, on her face--houldin' up her mouth, an' sayin'
+'Kiss me agin, father;' as if she knew, somehow, that I'd never see
+her, nor her me, any more. An' whin I looked back, as I was turnin' the
+corner, there she stood, strainin' her eyes after her father, that she
+was then takin' the last sight of until the judgment-day."
+
+His voice here became broken, and he sat in silence for a few minutes.
+
+"It's sthrange," he added, with more firmness, "how she's so often in my
+mind!"
+
+"But, Owen, dear," replied Kathleen, "sure it was the will of God that
+she should lave us. She's now a bright angel in heaven, an' I dunna if
+it's right--indeed, I doubt it's sinful for us to think so much about
+her. Who knows but her innocent spirit is makin' inthercession for us
+all, before the blessed Mother o' God! Who knows but it was her that got
+us the good fortune that flowed in upon us, an' that made our strugglin'
+an' our laborin' turn out so lucky."
+
+The idea of being lucky or unlucky is, in Ireland, an enemy to industry.
+It is certainly better that the people should believe success in life
+to be, as it is, the result of virtuous exertion, than of contingent
+circumstances, over which they themselves have no control. Still there
+was something beautiful in the superstition of Kathleen's affections;
+something that touched the heart and its! dearest associations.
+
+"It's very true, Kathleen," replied her husband; "but God is ever ready
+to help them that keeps an honest heart, an' do everything in their
+power to live creditably. They may fail for a time, or he may thry them
+for awhile, but sooner or later good, intintions and honest labor will
+be rewarded. Look at ourselves--blessed be his name!"
+
+"But whin do you mane to go to Tubber Derg, Owen!"
+
+"In the beginnin' of the next week. An', Kathleen, ahagur, if you
+remimber the bitther mornin' we came upon the world--but we'll not
+be spakin' of that now. I don't like to think of it. Some other time,
+maybe, when we're settled among our ould friends, I'll mintion it."
+
+"Well, the Lord bliss your endayvors, anyhow! Och, Owen, do thry an'
+get us a snug farm somewhere near them. But you didn't answer me about
+Alley, Owen?"
+
+"Why, you must have your wish, Kathleen, although I intended to keep
+that place for myself. Still we can sleep one on aich side of her; an'
+that may be aisily done, for our buryin'-ground is large: so set your
+mind at rest on that head. I hope God won't call us till we see our
+childhre settled dacently in the world. But sure, at all evints, let his
+blessed will be done!"
+
+"Amin! amin! It's not right of any one to keep their hearts fixed too
+much upon the world; nor even, they say, upon one's own childhre."
+
+"People may love their childhre as much as they plase, Kathleen, if they
+don't let their _grah_ for them spoil the crathurs, by givin' them their
+own will, till they become headstrong an' overbearin'. Now, let my linen
+be as white as a bone before Monday, plase goodness; I hope, by that
+time, that Jack Dogherty will have my new clo'es made; for I intind to
+go as dacent as ever they seen me in my best days."
+
+"An' so you will, too, avillish. Throth, Owen, it's you that'll be the
+proud man, steppin' in to them in all your grandeur! Ha, ha, ha! The
+spirit o' the M'Carthys is in you still, Owen."
+
+"Ha, ha, ha! It is, darlin'; it is, indeed; an' I'd be sarry it wasn't.
+I long to see poor Widow Murray. I dunna is her son, Jemmy, married.
+Who knows, afther all we suffered, but I might be able to help
+her yet?--that is, if she stands in need of it. But, I suppose, her
+childhre's grown up now, an' able to assist her. Now, Kathleen, mind
+Monday next; an' have everything ready. I'll stay away a week or so, at
+the most, an' afther that I'll have news for you about all o' them."
+
+When Monday morning arrived, Owen found himself ready to set out for
+Tubber Derg. The tailor had not disappointed him; and Kathleen, to do
+her justice, took care that the proofs of her good housewifery should
+be apparent in the whiteness of his linen. After breakfast, he dressed
+himself in all his finery; and it would be difficult to say whether
+the harmless vanity that peeped out occasionally from his simplicity
+of character, or the open and undisguised triumph of his faithful wife,
+whose eye rested on him with pride and affection, was most calculated to
+produce a smile.
+
+"Now, Kathleen," said he, when preparing for his immediate departure,
+"I'm, thinkin' of what they'll say, when they see, me so smooth an'
+warm-lookin'. I'll engage they'll be axin' one another, 'Musha, how, did
+Owen M'Carthy get an, at all, to be so well to do in the world, as he
+appears to be, afther failin' on his ould farm?'"
+
+"Well, but Owen, you know how to manage them."
+
+"Throth, I do that. But there is one thing they'll never get out o' me,
+any way."
+
+"You won't tell that to any o' them, Owen?"
+
+"Kathleen, if I thought they only suspected it, I'd never show my face
+in Tubber Derg agin. I think I could bear to be--an' yet it 'ud be a
+hard struggle with me too--but I think I could bear to be buried among
+black strangers, rather than it should be said, over my grave, among
+my own, 'there's where Owen M'Carthy lies--who was the only man, of his
+name, that ever begged his morsel on the king's highway. There he lies,
+the descendant of the great M'Carthy Mores, an' yet he was a beggar.'
+I know, Kathleen achora, it's neither a sin nor a shame to ax one's bit
+from our fellow-creatures, whin, fairly brought to it, widout any fault
+of our own; but still I feel something in me, that can't bear to think
+of it widout shame an' heaviness of heart."
+
+"Well, it's one comfort, that nobody knows it but ourselves. The poor
+childhre, for their own sakes, won't ever breathe it; so that it's
+likely the sacret 'll be berrid wid us."
+
+"I hope so, acushla. Does this coat sit asy atween the shouldhers? I
+feel it catch me a little."
+
+"The sorra nicer. There; it was only your waistcoat that was turned down
+in the collar. Here--hould your arm. There now--it wanted to be pulled
+down a little at the cuffs. Owen, it's a beauty; an' I think I have good
+right to be proud of it, for it's every thread my own spinnin'."
+
+"How do I look in it, Kathleen? Tell me thruth, now."
+
+"Throth, you're twenty years younger; the never a day less."
+
+"I think I needn't be ashamed to go afore my ould friends in it, any
+way. Now bring me my staff, from undher the bed above; an', in the name
+o' God, I'll set out."
+
+"Which o' them, Owen? Is it the oak or the blackthorn?"
+
+"The oak, acushla. Oh, no; not the blackthorn. It's it that I brought
+to Dublin wid me, the unlucky thief, an' that I had while we wor a
+shaughran. Divil a one o' me but 'ud blush in the face, if I brought
+it even in my hand afore them. The oak, ahagur; the oak. You'll get it
+atween the foot o' the bed an' the wall."
+
+When Kathleen placed the staff in his hand, he took off his hat and
+blessed himself, then put it on, looked at his wife, and said--"Now
+darlin', in the name o' God, I'll go. Husht, avillish machree, don't be
+cryin'; sure I'll be back to you in a week."
+
+"Och! I can't help it, Owen. Sure this is the second time you wor ever
+away from me more nor a day; an' I'm thinkin' of what happened both
+to you an' me, the first time you wint. Owen, acushla, I feel that if
+anything happened you, I'd break my heart."
+
+"Arrah, what 'ud happen me, darlin', wid God to protect me? Now, God
+be wid you, Kathleen dheelish, till I come back to you wid good news,
+I hope. I'm not goin' in sickness an' misery, as I wint afore, to see a
+man that wouldn't hear my appale to him; an' I'm lavin' you comfortable,
+agrah, an' wantin' for nothin'. Sure it's only about five-an'-twenty
+miles from this--a mere step. The good God bless an' take care of you,
+my darlin' wife, till I come home to you!"
+
+He kissed the tears that streamed from her eyes; and, hemming several
+times, pressed her hand, his face rather averted, then grasped his
+staff, and commenced his journey.
+
+Scenes like this were important events to our humble couple. Life, when
+untainted by the crimes and artificial manners which destroy its purity,
+is a beautiful thing to contemplate among the virtuous poor; and, where
+the current of affection runs deep and smooth, the slightest incident
+will agitate it. So it was with Owen M'Carthy and his wife. Simplicity,
+truth, and affection, constituted their character. In them there was no
+complication of incongruous elements. The order of their virtues was not
+broken, nor the purity of their affections violated, by the anomalous
+blending together of opposing principles, such as are to be found in
+those who are involuntarily contaminated by the corruption of human
+society.
+
+Owen had not gone far, when Kathleen called to him: "Owen,
+ahagur--stand, darlin'; but don't come back a step, for fraid o' bad
+luck."*
+
+     * When an Irish peasant sets out on a journey, or to
+     transact business in fair or market, he will not, if
+     possible, turn back. It is considered unlucky: as it is
+     also to be crossed by a hare, or met by a red-haired
+     woman.
+
+"Did I forget anything, Kathleen?" he inquired. "Let me see; no; sure
+I have my beads an' my tobaccy box, an' my two clane shirts an'
+handkerchers in the bundle. What is it, acushla?"
+
+"I needn't be axin' you, for I know you wouldn't forget it; but for
+'fraid you might--Owen, whin you're at Tubber Derg, go to little Alley's
+grave, an' look at it; an' bring me back word how it appears. You might
+get it cleaned up, if there's weeds or anything growin' upon it; an'
+Owen, would you bring me a bit o' the clay, tied up in your pocket. Whin
+you're there, spake to her; tell her it was the lovin' mother that bid
+you, an' say anything that you think might keep her asy, an' give her
+pleasure. Tell her we're not now as we wor whin she was wid us; that we
+don't feel hunger, nor cowld, nor want; an' that nothin' is a throuble
+to us, barrin' that we miss her--ay, even yet--_a suillish machree_ (*
+light of my heart), that she was--that we miss her fair face an' goolden
+hair from among us. Tell her this; an' tell her it was the lovin' mother
+that said it, an' that sint the message to her."
+
+"I'll do it all, Kathleen; I'll do it all--all, An' now go in, darlin',
+an' don't be frettin'. Maybe we'll soon be near her, plase God, where we
+can see the place she sleeps in, often."
+
+They then separated again; and Owen, considerably affected by the
+maternal tenderness of his wife, proceeded on his journey. He had not,
+actually, even at the period of his leaving home, been able to determine
+on what particular friend he should first call. That his welcome would
+be hospitable, nay, enthusiastically so, he was certain. In the meantime
+he vigorously pursued his journey; and partook neither of refreshment
+nor rest, until he arrived, a little after dusk, at a turn of the
+well-known road, which, had it been daylight, would have opened to him a
+view of Tubber Derg. He looked towards the beeches, however, under which
+it stood; but to gain a sight of it was impossible. His road now lying
+a little to the right, he turned to the house of his sterling friend,
+Frank Farrell, who had given him and his family shelter and support,
+when he was driven, without remorse, from his own holding. In a
+short time he reached Frank's residence, and felt a glow of sincere
+satisfaction at finding the same air of comfort and warmth about it
+as formerly. Through the kitchen window he saw the strong light of the
+blazing fire and heard, ere he presented himself, the loud hearty laugh
+of his friend's wife, precisely as light and animated as it had been
+fifteen years before.
+
+Owen lifted the latch and entered, with that fluttering of the pulse
+which every man feels on meeting with a friend, after an interval of
+many years.
+
+"Musha, good people, can ye tell me is Frank Farrell at home?"
+
+"Why, thin, he's not jist widin now, but he'll be here in no time
+entirely," replied one of his daughters. "Won't you sit down, honest
+man, an' we'll sind for him."
+
+"I'm thankful to you," said Owen. "I'll sit, sure enough, till he comes
+in."
+
+"Why thin!--eh! it must--it can be no other!" exclaimed Farrell's wife,
+bringing! over a candle and looking Owen earnestly in the face; "sure
+I'd know that voice all the world over! Why, thin, marciful
+Father--Owen M'Carthy,--Owen M'Carthy, is it your four quarthers that's
+livin' an' well? Queen o' heaven, Owen M'Carthy darlin', you're
+welcome!" the word was here interrupted by a hearty kiss from the kind
+housewife;--welcome a thousand an' a thousand times! _Vick ne hoiah!_
+Owen dear, an' are you livin' at all? An' Kathleen, Owen, an' the
+childhre, an' all of yez--an' how are they?"
+
+"Throth, we're livin' an' well, Bridget; never was betther, thanks be to
+God an' you, in our lives."
+
+Owen was now surrounded by such of Farrell's children as were old enough
+to remember him; every one of whom he shook hands with, and kissed.
+
+"Why, thin, the Lord save my sowl, Bridget," said he, "are these the
+little bouchaleens an' colleens that were runnin' about my feet whin
+I was here afore? Well, to be sure! How they do shoot up! An' is this
+Atty?"
+
+"No: but this is Atty, Owen; faix, Brian outgrew him; an' here's Mary,
+an' this is Bridget Oge."
+
+"Well!--well! But where did these two; young shoots come from? this boy
+an' the colleen here? They worn't to the fore, in my time, Bridget."
+
+"This is Owen, called afther yourself,--an' this is Kathleen. I needn't
+tell you who she was called afther."
+
+"_Gutsho, alanna? thurm pogue?_--come here, child, and kiss me," said
+Owen to his little namesake; "an' sure I can't forget the little woman
+here; _gutsho, a colleen_, and kiss: me too."
+
+Owen took her on his knee, and kissed her twice.
+
+"Och, but poor Kathleen," said he, "will be the proud woman of this,
+when she hears it; in throth she will be that."
+
+"Arrah! what's comin' over me!" said Mrs. Farrell. "Brian, run up to
+Micky Lowrie's for your father, An' see, Brian, don't say who's wantin'
+him, till we give him a start. Mary, come here, acushla," she added to
+her eldest daughter in a whisper--"take these two bottles an' fly up
+to Peggy Finigan's for the full o' them o' whiskey. Now be back before
+you're there, or if you don't, that I mightn't, but you'll see what
+you'll get. Fly, aroon, an' don't let the grass grow undher your feet.
+An' Owen, darlin'--but first sit over to the fire:--here get over to
+this side, it's the snuggest;--arrah, Owen--an' sure I dunna what to ax
+you first. You're all well? all to the fore?"
+
+"All well, Bridget, an' thanks be to heaven, all to the fore."
+
+"Glory be to God! Throth it warms my heart to hear it. An' the childre's
+all up finely, boys an' girls?"
+
+"Throth, they are, Bridget, as good-lookin' a family o' childre as
+you'd wish to see. An' what is betther, they're as good as they're
+good-lookin'."
+
+"Throth, they couldn't but be that, if they tuck at all afther their
+father an' mother. Bridget, aroon, rub the pan betther--an' lay the
+knife down, I'll cut the bacon myself, but go an' get a dozen o' the
+freshest eggs;--an' Kathleen, Owen, how does poor Kathleen look? Does
+she stand it as well as yourself?"
+
+"As young as ever you seen her. God help her!--a thousand degrees
+betther nor whin you seen her last."
+
+"An' well to do, Owen?--now tell the truth? Och, musha, I forget who I'm
+spakin' to, or I wouldn't disremimber the ould sayin' that's abroad this
+many a year:--'who ever knew a M'Carthy of Tubber Derg to tell a lie,
+break his word, or refuse to help a friend in distress.' But, Owen,
+you're well to do in' the world?"
+
+"We're as well, Bridget, or may be betther, nor you ever knew us,
+except, indeed, afore the ould lase was run out wid us."
+
+"God be praised again? Musha, turn round a little, Owen, for 'fraid
+Frank 'ud get too clear a sight of your face at first. Arrah, do you
+think he'll know you? Och, to be sure he will; I needn't ax. Your voice
+would tell upon you, any day."
+
+"Know me! Indeed Frank 'ud know my shadow. He'll know me wid half a
+look."
+
+And Owen was right, for quickly did the eye of his old friend recognize
+him, despite of the little plot that was laid to try his penetration.
+To describe their interview would be to repeat the scene we have already
+attempted to depict between Owen and Mrs. Farrell. No sooner were the
+rites of hospitality performed, than the tide of conversation began to
+flow with greater freedom. Owen ascertained one important fact, which we
+will here mention, because it produces, in a great degree, the want
+of anything like an independent class of yeomanry in the country. On
+inquiring after his old acquaintances, he discovered that a great many
+of them, owing to high rents, had emigrated to America. They belonged
+to that class of independent farmers, who, after the expiration of
+their old leases, finding the little capital they had saved beginning
+to diminish, in consequence of rents which they could not pay, deemed it
+more prudent, while anything remained in their hands, to seek a country
+where capital and industry might be made available. Thus did the
+landlords, by their mismanagement and neglect, absolutely drive off
+their estates, the only men, who, if properly encouraged, were capable
+of becoming the strength and pride of the country. It is this system,
+joined to the curse of middlemen and sub-letting, which has left the
+country without any third grade of decent, substantial yoemen, who might
+stand as a bond of peace between the highest and the lowest classes. It
+is this which has split the kingdom into two divisions, constituting
+the extreme ends of society--the wealthy and the wretched, If this third
+class existed, Ireland would neither be so political nor discontented as
+she is; but, on the contrary, more remarkable for peace and industry. At
+present, the lower classes, being too poor, are easily excited by those
+who promise them a better order of things than that which exists. These
+theorists step into the exercise of that legitimate influence which the
+landed proprietors have lost by their neglect. There is no middle class
+in the country, who can turn round to them and say, "Our circumstances
+are easy, we want nothing; carry your promises to the poor, for that
+which you hold forth to their hopes, we enjoy in reality." The poor
+soldier, who, because he was wretched, volunteered to go on the
+forlorn hope, made a fortune; but when asked if he would go on a second
+enterprise of a similar kind, shrewdly replied, "General, I am now an
+independent man; send some poor devil on your forlorn hope who wants to
+make a fortune."
+
+Owen now heard anecdotes and narratives of all occurrences, whether
+interesting or strange, that had taken place during his abscence. Among
+others, was the death of his former landlord, and the removal of the
+agent who had driven him to beggary. Tubber Derg, he found, was then the
+property of a humane and considerate man, who employed a judicious and
+benevolent gentleman to manage it.
+
+"One thing, I can tell you," said Frank; "it was but a short time in the
+new agent's hands, when the dacent farmers stopped goin' to America."
+
+"But Frank," said Owen, and he sighed on putting the question, "who is
+in Tubber Derg, now?"
+
+"Why, thin, a son of ould Rousin' Redhead's of Tullyvernon--young Con
+Roe, or the Ace o' Hearts--for he was called both by the youngsters--if
+you remimber him. His head's as red an' double as big, even, as his
+father's was, an' you know that no hat would fit ould Con, until he sent
+his measure to Jemmy Lamb, the hatter. Dick Nugent put it out on
+him, that Jemmy always made Rousin' Red-head's hat, either upon the
+half-bushel pot or a five-gallon keg of whiskey. 'Talkin' of the keg,'
+says Dick, 'for the matther o' that,' says he, 'divil a much differ the
+hat will persave; for the one'--meanin' ould Con's head, who was a hard
+dhrinker--' the one,' says Con, 'is as much a keg as the other--ha! ha!
+ha!' Dick met Rousin' Redhead another day: 'Arrah, Con,' says he, 'why
+do you get your hats made upon a pot, man alive? Sure that's the rason
+that you're so fond o' poteen.' A quare mad crathur was Dick, an' would
+go forty miles for a fight. Poor fellow, he got his skull broke in a
+scrimmage betwixt the Redmonds and the O'Hanlons; an' his last words
+were, 'Bad luck to you, Redmond--O'Hanlon, I never thought you, above
+all men dead and gone, would be the death o' me.' Poor fellow! he was
+for pacifyin' them, for a wondher, but instead o' that he got pacified
+himself."
+
+"An' how is young Con doin', Frank?"
+
+"Hut, divil a much time he has to do aither well or ill, yit. There was
+four tenants on Tubber Derg since you left it, an' he's the fifth. It's
+hard to say how he'll do; but I believe he's the best o' thim, for so
+far. That may be owin' to the landlord. The rent's let down to him; an'
+I think he'll be able to take bread, an' good bread too, out of it."
+
+"God send, poor man!"
+
+"Now, Owen, would you like to go back to it?"
+
+"I can't say that. I love the place, but I suffered too much in it. No;
+but I'll tell you, Frank, if there was e'er a snug farm near it that I
+could get rasonable, I'd take it."
+
+Frank slapped his knee exultingly. "Ma chuirp!--do you say so, Owen?"
+
+"Indeed, I do."
+
+"Thin upon my song, thats the luckiest thing I ever knew. There's, this
+blessed minute, a farm o' sixteen acres, that the Lacys is lavin'--goin'
+to America--an' it's to be set. They'll go the week afther next, an'
+the house needn't be cowld, for you can come to it the very day afther
+they Live it."
+
+"Well," said Owen, "I'm glad of that. Will you come wid me to-morrow,
+an' we'll see about it?"
+
+"To be sure I will; an' what's betther, too; the Agint is a son of ould
+Misther Rogerson's, a man that knows you, an' the history o' them you
+came from, well. An', another thing, Owen! I tell you, whin it's abroad
+that you want to take the farm, there's not a man in the parish will bid
+agin you. You may know that yourself."
+
+"I think, indeed, they would rather sarve me than otherwise," replied
+Owen; "an', in the name o' God, we'll see what can be done. Misther
+Rogerson, himself, 'ud spake to his son for me; so that I'll be sure of
+his intherest. Arrah, Frank, how is an ould friend o' mine, that I have
+a great regard for--poor Widow Murray?"
+
+"Widow Murray. Poor woman, she's happy."
+
+"You don't mane she's dead?"
+
+"She's dead, Owen, and happy, I trust, in the Saviour. She died last
+spring was a two years."
+
+"God be good to her sowl! An' are the childhre in her place still? It's
+she that was the dacent woman."
+
+"Throth, they are; an' sorrow a betther doin' family in the parish than
+they are. It's they that'll be glad to see you, Owen. Many a time I seen
+their poor mother, heavens be her bed, lettin' down the tears, whin
+she used to be spakin' of you, or mintion how often you sarved her;
+espeshially, about some way or other that you privinted her cows from
+bein' canted for the rint. She's dead now, an' God he knows, an honest
+hard-workin' woman she ever was."
+
+"Dear me, Frank, isn't it a wondher to think how the people dhrop off!
+There's Widow Murray, one o' my ouldest frinds, an' Pether M'Mahon, an'
+Barny Lorinan--not to forget pleasant Rousin' Red-head--all taken away!
+Well!--Well! Sure it's the will o' God! We can't be here always."
+
+After much conversation; enlivened by the bottle, though but sparingly
+used on the part of Owen, the hour of rest arrived, when the family
+separated for the night.
+
+The gray dawn of a calm, beautiful summer's morning found Owen up and
+abroad, long before the family of honest Frank had risen. When dressing
+himself, with an intention of taking an early walk, he was asked by his
+friend why he stirred so soon, or if he--his host--should accompany him.
+"No," replied Owen; "lie still; jist let me look over the counthry while
+it's asleep. When I'm musin' this a-way I don't like anybody to be along
+wid me. I have a place to go an' see, too--an' a message--a tendher
+message, from poor Kathleen, to deliver, that I wouldn't wish a second
+person to hear. Sleep, Frank. I'll jist crush the head o' my pipe agin'
+one o' the half-burned turf that the fire was raked wid, an' walk out
+for an hour or two. Afther our breakfast we'll go-an' look about this
+new farm."
+
+He sallied out as he spoke, and closed the door after him in that
+quiet, thoughtful way for which he was ever remarkable. The season was
+midsummer, and the morning wanted at least an hour of sunrise. Owen
+ascended a little knoll, above Frank's house, on which he stood
+and surveyed the surrounding country with a pleasing but melancholy
+interest. As his eye rested on Tubber Derg, he felt the difference
+strongly between the imperishable glories of nature's works, and those
+which are executed by man. His house he would not have known, except
+by its site. It was not, in fact, the same house, but another which had
+been built in its stead. This disappointed and vexed him. An object on
+which his affections had been placed was removed. A rude stone house
+stood before him, rough and unplastered; against each end of which was
+built a stable-and a cow-house, sloping down from the gables to low
+doors at booh sides; adjoining these rose two mounds of filth, large
+enough to be easily distinguished from the knoll on which he stood. He
+sighed as he contrasted it with the neat and beautiful farm-house, which
+shone there in his happy days, white as a lily, beneath the covering
+of the lofty beeches. There was no air of comfort, neatness, or
+independence, about it; on the contrary, everything betrayed the
+evidence of struggle and difficulty, joined, probably, to want both of
+skill and of capital. He was disappointed, and turned his gaze upon the
+general aspect of the country, and the houses in which either his old
+acquaintances or their children lived. The features of the landscape
+were, certainly, the same; but even here was a change for the worse. The
+warmth of coloring which wealth and independence give to the appearance
+of a cultivated country, was gone. Decay and coldness seemed to brood
+upon everything, he saw. The houses, the farm-yards, the ditches, and
+enclosures, were all marked by the blasting proofs of national decline.
+Some exceptions there were to this disheartening prospect, but they were
+only sufficient to render the torn and ragged evidences of poverty,
+and its attendant--carelessness--more conspicuous. He left the knoll,
+knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and putting it into his waistcoat
+pocket, ascended a larger hill, which led to the grave-yard, where his
+child lay buried. On his way to this hill, which stood about half a mile
+distant, he passed a few houses of an humble description, with whose
+inhabitants he had been well acquainted. Some of these stood nearly as
+he remembered them; but others were roofless, with their dark mud
+gables either fallen in or partially broken down. He surveyed their
+smoke-colored walls with sorrow; and looked, with a sense of the
+transient character of all man's works upon the chickweed, docks, and
+nettles, which had shot up so rankly on the spot where many a chequered
+scene of joy and sorrow had flitted over the circumscribed circle of
+humble life, ere the annihilating wing of ruin swept away them and their
+habitations.
+
+When he had ascended the hill, his eye took a wider range. The more
+distant and picturesque part of the country lay before him. "Ay!" said
+he in a soliloquy, "Lord bless us, how sthrange is this world!--an'
+what poor crathurs are men! There's the dark mountains, the hills, the
+rivers, an' the green glens, all the same; an' nothin' else a'most but's
+changed! The very song of that blackbird, in the thorn-bushes an' hazels
+below me, is like the voice of an ould friend to my ears. Och, indeed,
+hardly that, for even the voice of man changes; but that song is the
+same as I heard it for the best part o' my life. That mornin' star,
+too, is the same bright crathur up there that it ever was! God help
+us! Hardly any thing changes but man, an' he seems to think that he
+can never change; if one is to judge by his thoughtlessness, folly, an'
+wickedness!"
+
+A smaller hill, around the base of which went the same imperfect road
+that crossed the glen of Tubber Derg, prevented him from seeing the
+grave-yard to which he was about to extend his walk. To this road he
+directed his steps. On reaching it he looked, still with a strong memory
+of former times, to the glen in which his children, himself, and his
+ancestors had all, during their day, played in the happy thoughtlessness
+of childhood and youth. But the dark and ragged house jarred upon his
+feelings. He turned from it with pain, and his eye rested upon the
+still green valley with evident relief. He thought of his "buried
+flower"--"his-golden-haired darlin'," as he used to call her--and
+almost fancied that he saw her once more wandering waywardly through its
+tangled mazes, gathering berries, or strolling along the green meadow,
+with a garland of gowans about her neck. Imagination, indeed, cannot
+heighten the image of the dead whom we love; but even if it could, there
+was no standard of ideal beauty in her father's mind beyond that of
+her own. She had been beautiful; but her beauty was pensive: a fair yet
+melancholy child; for the charm that ever encompassed her was one of
+sorrow and tenderness. Had she been volatile and mirthful, as children
+usually are, he would not have carried so far into his future life the
+love of her which he cherished. Another reason why he still loved her
+strongly, was a consciousness that her death had been occasioned by
+distress and misery; for, as he said, when looking upon the scenes of
+her brief but melancholy existence--"Avour-neen machree, I remimber to
+see you pickin' the berries; but asthore--asthore--it wasn't for play
+you did it. It was to keep away the cuttin' of hunger from your heart!
+Of all our childhre every one said that you wor the M'Carthy--never
+sayin' much, but the heart in you ever full of goodness and affection.
+God help me, I'm glad--an', now, that I'm comin' near it--loth to see
+her grave."
+
+He had now reached the verge of the graveyard. Its fine old ruin stood
+there as usual, but not altogether without the symptoms of change. Some
+persons had, for the purposes of building, thrown down one of its
+most picturesque walls. Still its ruins clothed with ivy, its mullions
+moss-covered, its gothic arches and tracery, gray with age, were the
+same in appearance as he had ever seen them.
+
+On entering this silent palace of Death, he reverently uncovered his
+head, blessed himself, and, with feelings deeply agitated, sought the
+grave of his beloved child. He approached it; but a sudden transition
+from sorrow to indignation took place in his mind, even before he
+reached the spot on which she lay. "Sacred Mother!" he exclaimed, "who
+has dared to bury in our ground? Who has--what villain has attimpted to
+come in upon the M'Carthys--upon the M'Carthy Mores, of Tubber Derg? Who
+could--had I no friend to prev--eh? Sacred Mother, what's this? Father
+of heaven forgive me! Forgive me, sweet Saviour, for this bad feelin'
+I got into! Who--who--could raise a head-stone over the darlin' o' my
+heart, widout one of us knowin' it! Who--who could do it? But let me see
+if I can make it out. Oh, who could do this blessed thing, for the poor
+an' the sorrowful?" He began, and with difficulty read as follows:--
+
+"Here lies the body of Alice M'Carthy, the beloved daughter of Owen and
+Kathleen M'Carthy, aged nine years. She was descended from the M'Carthy
+Mores.
+
+"Requiescat in pace.
+
+"This head-stone was raised over her by widow Murray, and her son, James
+Murray, out of grateful respect for Owen and Kathleen M'Carthy, who
+never suffered the widow and orphan, or a distressed neighbor, to crave
+assistance from them in vain, until it pleased God to visit them with
+affliction."
+
+"Thanks to you, my Saviour!" said Owen, dropping on his knees over the
+grave,--"thanks an' praise be to your holy name, that in the middle of
+my poverty--of all my poverty--I was not forgotten! nor my darlin' child
+let to lie widout honor in the grave of her family! Make me worthy,
+blessed Heaven, of what is written down upon me here! An' if the
+departed spirit of her that honored the dust of my buried daughter is
+unhappy, oh, let her be relieved, an' let this act be remimbered to her!
+Bless her son, too, gracious Father, an' all belonging to her on this
+earth! an', if it be your holy will, let them never know distress, or
+poverty, or wickedness?"
+
+He then offered up a Pater Noster for the repose of his child's soul,
+and another for the kind-hearted and grateful widow Murray, after which
+he stood to examine the grave with greater accuracy.
+
+There was, in fact, no grave visible. The little mound, under which lay
+what was once such a touching image of innocence, beauty, and feeling,
+had sunk down to the level of the earth about it. He regretted this,
+inasmuch as it took away, he thought, part of her individuality. Still
+he knew it was the spot wherein she had been buried, and with much of
+that vivid feeling, and strong figurative language, inseparable from the
+habits of thought and language of the old Irish families, he delivered
+the mother's message to the inanimate dust of her once beautiful and
+heart-loved child. He spoke in a broken voice, for even the mention of
+her name aloud, over the clay that contained her, struck with a fresh
+burst of sorrow upon his heart.
+
+"Alley," he exclaimed in Irish, "Alley, _nhien machree_, your father
+that loved you more nor he loved any other human crathur, brings a
+message to you from the mother of your heart, avourneen! She bid me call
+to see the spot where you're lyin', my buried flower, an' to tell you
+that we're not now, thanks be to God, as we wor whin you lived wid us.
+We are well to do now, _acushla oge machree_, an' not in hunger, an'
+sickness, an' misery, as we wor whin you suffered them all! You will
+love to hear this, pulse of our hearts, an' to know that, through all we
+suffered--an' bittherly we did suffer since you departed--we never let
+you out of our memory. No, _asthore villish_, we thought of you, an'
+cried afther our poor dead flower, many an' many's the time. An' she bid
+me tell you, darlin' of my heart, that we feel: nothin' now so much as
+that you are not wid us to share our comfort an' our happiness. Oh, what
+wouldn't the mother give to have you back wid her; but it can't be--an'
+what wouldn't I give to have you before my eyes agin, in health an'
+in life--but it can't be. The lovin' mother sent this message to you,
+Alley. Take it from her; she bid me tell you that we are well an' happy;
+our name is pure, and, like yourself, widout spot or stain. Won't you
+pray for us before God, an' get him an' his blessed Mother to look on
+us wid favor an' compassion? Farewell, Alley asthore! May you slelp in
+peace, an' rest on the breast of your great Father in Heaven, until we
+all meet in happiness together. It's your father that's spakin' to you,
+our lost flower; an' the hand that often smoothed your goolden head is
+now upon your grave."
+
+He wiped his eyes as he concluded, and after lifting a little of the
+clay from her grave, he tied it carefully up, and put it into his
+pocket.
+
+Having left the grave-yard, he retraced his steps towards Frank
+Farrell's house. The sun had now risen, and as Owen ascended the larger
+of the two hills which we have mentioned, he stood again to view the
+scene that stretched beneath him. About an hour before all was still,
+the whole country lay motionless, as if the land had been a land of the
+dead. The mountains, in the distance, were covered with the thin mists
+of morning; the milder and richer parts of the landscape had appeared in
+that dim gray distinctness which gives to distant objects such a clear
+outline. With the exception of the blackbird's song, every thing seemed
+as if stricken into silence; there was not a breeze stirring; both
+animate and inanimate nature reposed as if in a trance; the very trees
+appeared asleep, and their leaves motionless, as if they had been of
+marble. But now the scene was changed. The sun had flung his splendor
+upon the mountain-tops, from which the mists were tumbling in broken
+fragments to the valleys between them. A thousand birds poured their
+songs upon the ear; the breeze was up, and the columns of smoke from the
+farm-houses and cottages played, as if in frolic, in the air. A white
+haze was beginning to rise from the meadows; early teams were afoot;
+and laborers going abroad to their employment. The lakes in the
+distance shone like mirrors; and the clear springs on the mountain-sides
+glittered in the sun, like gems on which the eye could scarcely rest.
+Life, and light, and motion, appear to be inseparable. The dew of
+morning lay upon nature like a brilliant veil, realizing the beautiful
+image of Horace, as applied to woman:
+
+     Vultus nimium lubricus aspici.
+
+By-and-by the songs of the early workmen were heard; nature had awoke,
+and Owen, whose heart was strongly, though unconsciously, alive to the
+influence of natural religion, participated in the general elevation
+of the hour, and sought with freshened spirits the house of his
+entertainer.
+
+As he entered this hospitable roof, the early industry of his friend's
+wife presented him with a well-swept hearth and a pleasant fire, before
+which had been placed the identical chair that they had appropriated
+to his own use. Frank was enjoying "a blast o' the pipe," after having
+risen; to which luxury the return of Owen gave additional zest and
+placidity. In fact, Owen's presence communicated a holiday spirit to the
+family; a spirit, too, which declined not for a moment during the period
+of his visit.
+
+"Frank," said Owen, "to tell you the thruth, I'm not half plased wid you
+this mornin'. I think you didn't thrate me as I ought to expect to be
+thrated."
+
+"Musha, Owen M'Carthy, how is that?"
+
+"Why, you said nothin' about widow Murray raisin' a head-stone over our
+child. You kept me in the dark there, Frank, an' sich a start I never
+got as I did this mornin', in the grave-yard beyant."
+
+"Upon my sowl, Owen, it wasn't my fau't, nor any of our fau'ts; for,
+to tell you the thruth, we had so much to think and discoorse of last
+night, that it never sthruck me, good or bad. Indeed it was Bridget that
+put it first in my head, afther you wint out, an' thin it was too late.
+Ay, poor woman, the dacent strain was ever in her, the heaven's be her
+bed."
+
+"Frank, if any one of her family was to abuse me till the dogs wouldn't
+lick my blood, I'd only give them back good for evil afther that.
+Oh, Frank, that goes to my heart! To put a head-stone over my weeny
+goolden-haired darlin', for the sake of the little thrifles I sarved
+thim in! Well! may none belongin' to her ever know poverty or hardship!
+but if they do, an' that I have it----How-an'-iver, no matther. God
+bless thim! God bless thim! Wait till Kathleen hears it!"
+
+"An' the best of it was, Owen, that she never expected to see one of
+your faces. But, Owen, you think too much about that child. Let us talk
+about something else. You've seen Tubber Derg wanst more?"
+
+"I did; an' I love it still, in spite of the state it's in."
+
+"Ah! it's different from what it was in your happy days. I was spakin'
+to Bridget about the farm, an' she advises us to go, widout losin' a
+minute, an' take it if we can."
+
+"It's near this place I'll die, Frank. I'd not rest in my grave if I
+wasn't berrid among my own; so we'll take the farm if possible."
+
+"Well, then, Bridget, hurry the breakfast, avourneen; an' in the name o'
+goodness, we'll set out, an' clinch the business this very day."
+
+Owen, as we said, was prompt in following up his determinations. After
+breakfast they saw the agent and his father, for both lived together.
+Old Rogerson had been intimately acquainted with the M'Carthys, and, as
+Frank had anticipated, used his influence with the agent in procuring
+for the son of his old friend and acquaintance the farm which he sought.
+
+"Jack," said the old gentleman, "you don't probably know the history
+and character of the Tubber Derg M'Carthys so well as I do. No man ever
+required the written bond of a M'Carthy; and it was said of them, and
+is said still, that the widow and orphan, the poor man or the stranger,
+never sought their assistance in vain. I, myself, will go security, if
+necessary, for Owen M'Carthy."
+
+"Sir," replied Owen, "I'm thankful to you; I'm grateful to you. But
+I wouldn't take the farm, or bid for it at all, unless I could bring
+forrid enough to stock it as I wish, an' to lay in all that's wantin' to
+work it well. It 'ud be useless for me to take it--to struggle a year
+or two--impoverish the land--an' thin run away out of it. No, no; I have
+what'll put me upon it wid dacency an' comfort."
+
+"Then, since my father has taken such an interest in you, M'Carthy,
+you must have the farm. We shall get leases prepared, and the business
+completed in a few days; for I go to Dublin on this day week. Father,
+I now remember the character of this family; and I remember, too, the
+sympathy which was felt for one of them, who was harshly ejected
+about seventeen or eighteen years ago, out of the lands on which his
+forefathers had lived, I understand, for centuries."
+
+"I am that man, sir," returned Owen. "It's too long a story to tell now;
+but it was only out o' part of the lands, sir, that I was put. What
+I held was but a poor patch compared to what the family held in my
+grandfather's time. A great part of it went out of our hands at his
+death."
+
+"It was very kind of you, Misther Rogerson, to offer to go security for
+him," said Frank; "but if security was wantin, sir, Id not be willin' to
+let anybody but myself back him. I'd go all I'm worth in the world--an'
+by my sowl, double as much--for the same man."
+
+"I know that, Frank, an' I thank you; but I could put security in Mr.
+Rogerson's hands, here, if it was wanted. Good-mornin' an' thank you
+both, gintleman. To tell yez the thruth," he added, with a smile, "I
+long to be among my ould friends--manin' the people, an' the hills, an'
+the green fields of Tubber Derg--agin; an' thanks be to goodness, sure I
+will soon."
+
+In fact, wherever Owen went, within the bounds of his native parish,
+his name, to use a significant phrase of the people, was before him.
+His arrival at Frank Farrel's was now generally known by all his
+acquaintances, and the numbers who came to see him were almost beyond
+belief. During the two or three successive days, he went among his
+old "cronies;" and no sooner was his arrival at any particular house
+intimated, than the neighbors all flocked to him. Scythes were left
+idle, spades were stuck in the earth, and work neglected for the time
+being; all crowded about him with a warm and friendly interest, not
+proceeding from idle curiosity, but from affection and respect for the
+man.
+
+The interview between him and widow Murray's children was affecting.
+Owen felt deeply the delicate and touching manner in which they had
+evinced their gratitude for the services he had rendered them; and young
+Murray remembered with a strong gush of feeling, the distresses under
+which they lay when Owen had assisted them. Their circumstances, owing
+to the strenuous exertions of the widow's eldest son, soon afterwards
+improved; and, in accordance with the sentiments of hearts naturally
+grateful, they had taken that method of testifying what they felt.
+Indeed, so well had Owen's unparalleled affection for his favorite child
+been known, that it was the general opinion about Tubber Derg that her
+death had broken his heart.
+
+"Poor Owen, he's dead," they used to say; "the death of his weeny one,
+while he was away in Dublin, gave him the finishin' blow. It broke his
+heart."
+
+Before the week was expired, Owen had the satisfaction of depositing the
+lease of his new farm, held at a moderate rent, in the hands of Frank
+Farrel; who, tying it up along with his own, secured it in the
+"black chest." Nothing remained now but to return home forthwith, and
+communicate the intelligence to Kathleen. Frank had promised, as soon as
+the Lacy's should vacate the house, to come with a long train of cars,
+and a number of his neighbors, in order to transfer Owen's family and
+furniture to his new dwelling. Everything therefore, had been arranged;
+and Owen had nothing to do but hold himself in readiness for the welcome
+arrival of Frank and his friends.
+
+Owen, however, had no sense of enjoyment when not participated in by his
+beloved Kathleen. If he felt sorrow, it was less as a personal feeling
+than as a calamity to her.
+
+If he experienced happiness, it was doubly sweet to him as reflected
+from his' Kathleen. All this was mutual between them. Kathleen loved
+Owen precisely as he loved Kathleen. Nor let our readers suppose that
+such characters are not in humble life. It is in humble life, where
+the Springs of feeling are not corrupted by dissimulation and evil
+knowledge, that the purest, and tenderest, and strongest virtues are to
+be found.
+
+As Owen approached his home, he could not avoid contrasting the
+circumstances of his return now with those under which, almost
+broken-hearted after his journey to Dublin, he presented himself to his
+sorrowing and bereaved wife about eighteen years before. He raised
+his hat, and thanked God for the success which had, since that period,
+attended him, and, immediately after his silent thanksgiving, entered
+the house.
+
+His welcome, our readers may be assured, was tender and affectionate.
+The whole family gathered about him, and, on his informing them that
+they were once more about to reside on a farm adjoining to their beloved
+Tubber Derg, Kathleen's countenance brightened, and the tear of delight
+gushed to her eyes.
+
+"God be praised, Owen," she exclaimed; "we will have the ould place
+afore our eyes, an' what is betther, we will be near where Alley is
+lyin'. But that's true, Owen," she added, "did you give the light of our
+hearts the mother's message?"
+
+Owen paused, and his features were slightly overshadowed, but only by
+the solemnity of the feeling.
+
+"Kathleen," said he, "I gave her your message; but, avourneen, have
+sthrange news for you about Alley."
+
+"What, Owen? What is it, acushla? Tell me quick?"
+
+"The blessed child was not neglected--no, but she was honored in our
+absence. A head-stone was put over her, an' stands there purtily this
+minute."
+
+"Mother of Glory, Owen!"
+
+"It's thruth. Widow Murray an' her son Jemmy put it up, wid words upon
+it that brought the tears to my eyes. Widow Murray is dead, but her
+childher's doin' well. May God bless an' prosper them, an' make her
+happy!"
+
+The delighted mother's heart was not proof against the widow's
+gratitude, expressed, as it had been, in a manner so affecting. She
+rocked herself to and fro in silence, whilst the tears fell in showers
+down her cheeks. The grief, however, which this affectionate couple felt
+for their child, was not always such as the reader has perceived it to
+be. It was rather a revival of emotions that had long slumbered, but
+never died; and the associations arising from the journey to Tubber
+Derg, had thrown them back, by the force of memory, almost to the period
+of her death. At times, indeed, their imagination had conjured her up
+strongly, but the present was an epoch in the history of their sorrow.
+
+There is little more to be said. Sorrow was soon succeeded by
+cheerfulness and the glow of expected pleasure, which is ever the
+more delightful, as the pleasure is pure. In about a week their old
+neighbors, with their carts and cars, arrived; and before the day was
+closed on which Owen removed to his new residence, he found himself once
+more sitting at his own hearth, among the friends of his youth, and the
+companions of his maturer years. Ere the twelvemonth elapsed, he had his
+house perfectly white, and as nearly resembling that of Tubber Derg in
+its better days as possible. About two years ago we saw him one evening
+in the month of June, as he sat on a bench beside the door, singing with
+a happy heart his favorite song of "_Colleen dhas crootha na mo_." It
+was about an hour before sunset. The house stood on a gentle eminence,
+beneath which a sweep of green meadow stretched away to the skirts of
+Tubber Derg. Around him was a country naturally fertile, and, in spite
+of the national depression, still beautiful to contemplate. Kathleen
+and two servant maids were milking, and the whole family were assembled
+about the door.
+
+"Well, childher," said the father, "didn't I tell yez the bitther
+mornin' we left Tubber Derg, not to cry or be disheartened--that there
+was a 'good God above who might do somethin' for us yet?' I never did
+give up may trust in Him, an' I never will. You see, afther all our
+little troubles, He has wanst more brought us together, an' made us
+happy. Praise an' glory to His name!"
+
+I looked at him as he spoke. He had raised his eyes to heaven, and a
+gleam of elevated devotion, perhaps worthy of being-called sublime,
+irradiated his features. The sun, too, in setting, fell upon his broad
+temples and iron-gray locks, with a light solemn and religious.
+The effect to me, who knew his noble character, and all that he had
+suffered, was as if the eye of God then rested upon the decline of a
+virtuous man's life with approbation;--as if he had lifted up the
+glory of his countenance upon him. Would that many of his thoughtless
+countrymen had been present! They might have blushed for their crimes,
+and been content to sit and learn wisdom at the feet of Owen M'Carthy.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+NEAL MALONE.
+
+
+There never was a greater souled or doughtier tailor than little Neal
+Malone. Though but four feet; four in height, he paced the earth with
+the courage and confidence of a giant; nay, one would have imagined that
+he walked as if he feared the world itself was about to give way under
+him. Lot none dare to say in future that a tailor is but the ninth
+part of a man. That reproach has been gloriously taken away from the
+character of the cross-legged corporation by Neal Malone. He has wiped
+it off like a stain from the collar of a second-hand coat; he has
+pressed this wrinkle out of the lying front of antiquity; he has drawn
+together this rent in the respectability of his profession. No. By him
+who was breeches-maker to the gods--that is, except, like Highlanders,
+they eschewed inexpressibles--by him who cut Jupiter's frieze jocks for
+winter, and eke by the bottom of his thimble, we swear, that Neal Malone
+was more than the ninth part of a man!
+
+Setting aside the Patagonians, we maintain that two-thirds of mortal
+humanity were comprised in Neal; and, perhaps, we might venture to
+assert, that two-thirds of Neal's humanity were equal to six-thirds of
+another man's. It is right well known that Alexander the Great was a
+little man, and we doubt whether, had Alexander the Great been bred to
+the tailoring business, he would have exhibited so much of the hero
+as Neal Malone. Neal was descended from a fighting family, who had
+signalized themselves in as many battles as ever any single hero
+of antiquity fought. His father, his grandfather, and his great
+grandfather, were all fighting men, and his ancestors in general, up,
+probably, to Con of the Hundred Battles himself. No wonder, therefore,
+that Neal's blood should cry out against the cowardice of his calling;
+no wonder that he should be an epitome of all that was valorous and
+heroic in a peaceable man, for we neglected to inform the reader that
+Neal, though "bearing no base mind," never fought any man in his own
+person. That, however, deducted nothing from his courage. If he did not
+fight, it was simply because he found cowardice universal. No man would
+engage him; his spirit blazed in vain; his thirst for battle was doomed
+to remain unquenched, except by whiskey, and this only increased it. In
+short, he could find no foe. He has often been known to challenge the
+first cudgel-players and pugilists of the parish; to provoke men of
+fourteen stone weight; and to bid mortal defiance to faction heroes of
+all grades--but in vain. There was that in him which told them that an
+encounter with Neal would strip them of their laurels. Neal saw all this
+with a lofty indignation; he deplored the degeneracy of the times, and
+thought it hard that the descendant of such a fighting family should be
+doomed to pass through life peaceably, while so many excellent rows and
+riots took place around him. It was a calamity to see every man's head
+broken but his own; a dismal thing to observe his neighbors go about
+with their bones in bandages, yet his untouched; and his friends beat
+black and blue, whilst his own cuticle remained undiscolored.
+
+"Blur-an'-agers!" exclaimed Neal one day, when half-tipsy in the fair,
+"am I never to get a bit of fightin'? Is there no cowardly spalpeen to
+stand afore Neal Malone? Be this an' be that, I'm blue-mowlded for want
+of a batin'! I'm disgracin' my relations by the life I'm ladin'! Will
+none o' ye fight me aither for love, money, or whiskey--frind or inimy,
+an' bad luck to ye? I don't care a traneen which, only out o' pure
+frindship, let us have a morsel o' the rale kick-up, 'tany rate. Frind
+or inimy, I say agin, if you regard me; sure that makes no differ, only
+let us have the fight."
+
+This excellent heroism was all wasted; Neal could not find a single
+adversary. Except he divided himself like Hotspur, and went to buffets,
+one hand against the other, there was no chance of a fight; no person
+to be found sufficiently magnanimous to encounter the tailor. On the
+contrary, every one of his friends--or, in other words, every man in the
+parish--was ready to support him. He was clapped on the back, until his
+bones were nearly dislocated in his body; and his hand shaken, until his
+arm lost its cunning at the needle for half a week afterwards. This, to
+be sure, was a bitter business--a state of being past endurance. Every
+man was his friend--no man was his enemy. A desperate position for any
+person to find himself in, but doubly calamitous to a martial tailor.
+
+Many a dolorous complaint did Neal make upon the misfortune of having
+none to wish him ill; and what rendered this hardship doubly oppressive,
+was the unlucky fact that no exertions of his, however offensive, could
+procure him a single foe. In vain did lie insult, abuse, and malign all
+his acquaintances. In vain did he father upon them all the rascality
+and villany he could think of; he lied against them with a force and
+originality that would have made many a modern novelist blush for
+want of invention--but all to no purpose. The world for once became
+astonishingly Christian; it paid back all his efforts to excite its
+resentment with the purest of charity; when Neal struck it on the
+one cheek, it meekly turned unto him the other. It could scarcely
+be expected that Neal would bear this. To have the whole world in
+friendship with a man is beyond doubt rather an affliction. Not to have
+the face of a single enemy to look upon, would decidedly be considered
+a deprivation of many agreeable sensations by most people, as well as by
+Neal Malone. Let who might sustain a loss, or experience a calamity, it
+was a matter of indifference to Neal. They were only his friends, and he
+troubled neither his head nor his heart about them.
+
+Heaven help us! There is no man without his trials; and Neal, the
+reader perceives, was not exempt from his. What did it avail him that he
+carried a cudgel ready for all hostile contingencies? or knit his brows
+and shook his kipjoeen at the fiercest of his fighting friends? The
+moment he appeared, they softened into downright cordiality. His
+presence was the signal of peace; for, notwithstanding his unconquerable
+propensity to warfare, he went abroad as the genius of unanimity, though
+carrying in his bosom the redoubtable disposition the a warrior; just as
+the sun, though the source of light himself, is said to be dark enough
+at bottom.
+
+It could not be expected that Neal, with whatever fortitude he might
+bear his other afflictions, could bear such tranquillity like a hero. To
+say that he bore it as one, would be to basely surrender his character;
+for what hero ever bore a state, of tranquillity with courage? It
+affected his cutting out! It produced what Burton calls "a windie
+melancholie," which was nothing else than an accumulation of courage
+that had no means of escaping, if courage can without indignity be ever
+said to escape. He sat uneasy on his lap-board. Instead of cutting out
+soberly, he nourished his scissors as if he were heading a faction; he
+wasted much chalk by scoring his cloth in wrong places, and even caught
+his hot goose without a holder. These symptoms alarmed, his friends, who
+persuaded him to go to a doctor. Neal went, to satisfy them; but he knew
+that no prescription could drive the courage out of him--that he was too
+far gone in heroism to be made a coward of by apothecary stuff. Nothing
+in the pharmacopoeia could physic him into a pacific state. His disease
+was simply the want of an enemy, and an unaccountable superabundance of
+friendship on the part of his acquaintances. How could a doctor remedy
+this by a prescription? Impossible. The doctor, indeed, recommended
+bloodletting; but to lose blood in a peaceable manner was not only
+cowardly, but a bad cure for courage. Neal declined it: he would lose
+no blood for any man until he could not help it; which was giving the
+character of a hero at a single touch. His blood was not to be thrown
+away in this manner; the only lancet ever applied to his relations was
+the cudgel, and Neal scorned to abandon the principles of his family.
+
+His friends finding that he reserved his blood for more heroic purposes
+than dastardly phlebotomy, knew not what to do with him. His perpetual
+exclamation was, as we have already stated, "I'm blue-mowlded for want
+of a batin'!" They did everything in their power to cheer him with the
+hope of a drubbing; told him he lived in an excellent country for a man
+afflicted with his malady; and promised, if it were at all possible,
+to create him a private enemy or two, who, they hoped in heaven, might
+trounce him to some purpose.
+
+This sustained him for a while; but as day after day passed, and no
+appearance of action presented itself, he could not choose but increase
+in courage. His soul, like a sword-blade too long in the scabbard, was
+beginning to get fuliginous by inactivity. He looked upon the point of
+his own needle, and the bright edge of his scissors, with a bitter pang,
+when he thought of the spirit rusting within him: he meditated fresh
+insults, studied new plans, and hunted out cunning devices for provoking
+his acquaintances to battle, until by degrees he began to confound his
+own bram, and to commit more grievous oversights in his business than
+ever. Sometimes he sent home to one person a coat, with the legs of a
+pair of trousers attached to it for sleeves, and despatched to another
+the arms of the aforesaid coat tacked together as a pair of trousers.
+
+Sometimes the coat was made to button behind instead of before, and he
+frequently placed the pockets in the lower part of the skirts, as if he
+had been in league with cut-purses.
+
+This was a melancholy situation, and his friends pitied him accordingly.
+
+"Don't bo cast down, Neal," said they, "your friends feel for you, poor
+fellow."
+
+"Divil carry my frinds," replied Neal, "sure there's not one o' yez
+frindly enough to be my inimy. Tare-an'-ounze! what'll I do? I'm
+blue-rhowlded for want of a batin'!"
+
+Seeing that their consolation was thrown away upon him, they resolved
+to leave him to his fate; which they had no sooner done than Neal had
+thoughts of taking to the _Skiomachia_ as a last remedy. In this mood he
+looked with considerable antipathy at his own shadow for several nights;
+and it is not to be questioned, but that some hard battles would have
+taken place between them, were it not for the cunning of the shadow,
+which declined to fight him in any other position than with its back
+to the wall. This occasioned him to pause, for the wall was a fearful
+antagonist, inasmuch that it knew not when it was beaten; but there was
+still an alternative left. He went to the garden one clear day about
+noon, and hoped to have a bout with the shade, free from interruption.
+Both approached, apparently eager for the combat, and resolved to
+conquer or die, when a villanous cloud happening to intercept the light,
+gave the shadow an opportunity of disappearing; and Neal found himself
+once more without an opponent.
+
+"It's aisy known," said Neal, "you haven't the blood in you, or you'd
+come up to the scratch like a man."
+
+He now saw that fate was against him, and that any further hostility
+towards the shadow was only a tempting of Providence. He lost his
+health, spirits, and everything but his courage. His countenance became
+pale and peaceful looking; the bluster departed from him; his body
+shrunk up like a withered parsnip. Thrice was he compelled to take in
+his clothes, and thrice did he ascertain that much of his time would be
+necessarily spent in pursuing his retreating person through the solitude
+of his almost deserted garment.
+
+God knows it is difficult to form a correct opinion upon a situation
+so paradoxical as Neal's was. To be reduced to skin and bone by the
+downright friendship of the world, was, as the sagacious reader will
+admit, next to a miracle. We appeal to the conscience of any man who
+finds himself without an enemy, whether he be not a greater skeleton
+than the tailor; we will give him fifty guineas provided he can show
+a calf to his leg. We know he could not; for the tailor had none, and
+that was because he had not an enemy. No man in friendship with the
+world ever has calves to his legs. To sum up all in a paradox of our
+own invention, for which we claim the full credit of originality, we
+now assert, that more men have risen in the world by the injury of their
+enemies, than have risen by the kindness of their friends. You may take
+this, reader, in any sense; apply it to hanging if you like, it is still
+immutably and immovably true.
+
+One day Neal sat cross-legged, as tailors usually sit, in the act of
+pressing a pair of breeches; his hands were placed, backs up, upon the
+handle of his goose, and his chin rested upon the back of his hands. To
+judge from his sorrowful complexion one would suppose that he sat rather
+to be sketched as a picture of misery, or of heroism in distress, than
+for the industrious purpose of pressing the seams of a garment. There
+was a great deal of New Burlington-street pathos in his countenance;
+his face, like the times, was rather out of joint; "the sun was just
+setting, and his golden beams fell, with a saddened splendor, athwart
+the tailor's"----the reader may fill up the picture.
+
+In this position sat Neal, when Mr. O'Connor, the schoolmaster, whose
+inexpressibles he was turning for the third time, entered the workshop.
+Mr. O'Connor, himself, was as finished a picture of misery as the
+tailor. There was a patient, subdued kind of expression in his face,
+which indicated a very full-portion of calamity; his eye seemed charged
+with affliction of the first water; on each side of his nose might be
+traced two dry channels which, no doubt, were full enough while the
+tropical rains of his countenance lasted. Altogether, to conclude from
+appearances, it was a dead match in affliction between him and the
+tailor; both seemed sad, fleshless, and unthriving.
+
+"Misther O'Connor," said the tailor, when the schoolmaster entered,
+"won't you be pleased to sit down?"
+
+Mr. O'Connor sat; and, after wiping his forehead, laid his hat upon the
+lap-board, put his half handkerchief in his pocket, and looked upon the
+tailor. The tailor, in return, looked upon Mr. O'Connor; but neither of
+them spoke for some minutes. Neal, in fact, appeared to be wrapped up
+in his own misery, and Mr. O'Connor in his; or, as we often have much
+gratuitous sympathy for the distresses of our friends, we question but
+the tailor was wrapped up in Mr. O'Connor's misery, and Mr. O'Connor in
+the tailor's.
+
+Mr. O'Connor at length said--"Neal, are my inexpressibles finished?"
+
+"I am now pressin' your inexpressibles," replied Neal; "but, be my sowl,
+Mr. O'Connor, it's not your inexpressibles I'm thinkin' of. I'm not the
+ninth part of what I was. I'd hardly make paddin' for a collar now."
+
+"Are you able to carry a staff still, Neal?"
+
+"I've a light hazel one that's handy," said the tailor; "but where's
+the use of carryin' it, whin I can get no one to fight wid. Sure I'm
+disgracing my relations by the life I'm leadin'. I'll go to my grave
+widout ever batin' a man, or bein' bate myself; that's the vexation.
+Divil the row ever I was able to kick up in my life; so that I'm fairly
+blue-mowlded for want of a batin'. But if you have patience----"
+
+"Patience!" said Mr. O'Connor, with a shake of the head, that was
+perfectly disastrous even to look at; "patience, did you say, Neal?"
+
+"Ay," said Neal, "an', be my sowl, if you deny that I said patience,
+I'll break your head!"
+
+"Ah, Neal," returned the other, "I don't deny it--for though I am
+teaching philosophy, knowledge, and mathematics, every day in my life,
+yet I'm learning patience myself both night and day. No, Neal; I have
+forgotten to deny anything. I have not been guilty of a contradiction,
+out of my own school, for the last fourteen years. I once expressed
+the shadow of a doubt about twelve years ago, but ever since I have
+abandoned even doubting. That doubt was the last expiring effort at
+maintaining my domestic authority--but I suffered for it."
+
+"Well," said Neal, "if you have patience, I'll tell you what afflicts me
+from beginnin' to endin'."
+
+"I will have patience," said Mr. O'Connor, and he accordingly heard a
+dismal and indignant tale from the tailor.
+
+"You have told me that fifty times over," said Mr. O'Connor, after
+hearing the story. "Your spirit is too martial for a pacific life. If
+you follow my advice, I will teach you how to ripple the calm current
+of your existence to some purpose. Marry a wife. For twenty-five years I
+have given instructions in three branches, viz.--philosophy, knowledge,
+and mathematics--I am also well versed in matrimony, and I declare that,
+upon my misery, and by the contents of all my afflictions, it is my
+solemn and melancholy opinion, that, if you marry a wife, you will,
+before three months pass over your concatenated state, not have a single
+complaint to make touching a superabundance of peace and tranquillity,
+or a love of fighting."
+
+"Do you mean to say that any woman would make me afeard?" said the
+tailor, deliberately rising up and getting his cudgel. "I'll thank you
+merely to go over the words agin till I thrash you widin an inch o' your
+life. That's all."
+
+"Neal," said the schoolmaster, meekly, "I won't fight; I have been too
+often subdued ever to presume on the hope of a single victory. My spirit
+is long since evaporated: I am like one, of your own shreds, a mere
+selvage. Do you not know how much my habiliments have shrunk in, even
+within the last five years? Hear me, Neal; and venerate my words as
+if they proceeded from the lips of a prophet. If you wish to taste the
+luxury of being subdued--if you are, as you say, blue-moulded for want
+of a beating, and sick at heart of a peaceful existence--why, marry a
+wife. Neal, send my breeches home with all haste, for they are wanted,
+you understand. Farewell!"
+
+Mr. O'Connor, having thus expressed himself, departed, and Neal stood,
+with the cudgel in his hand, looking at the door out of which he passed,
+with an expression of fierceness, contempt, and reflection, strongly
+blended on the ruins of his once heroic visage.
+
+Many a man has happiness within his reach if he but knew it. The tailor
+had been, hitherto, miserable because he pursued a wrong object. The
+schoolmaster, however, suggested a train of thought upon which Neal
+now fastened with all the ardor of a chivalrous temperament. Nay, he
+wondered that the family spirit should have so completely seized
+upon the fighting side of his heart, as to preclude all thoughts of
+matrimony; for he could not but remember that his relations were as
+ready for marriage as for fighting. To doubt this, would have been to
+throw a blot upon his own escutcheon. He, therefore, very prudently
+asked himself, to whom, if he did not marry, should he transmit his
+courage. He was a single man, and, dying as such, he would be the sole
+depository of his own valor, which, like Junius's secret, must perish
+with, him. If he could have left it, as a legacy, to such of his friends
+as were most remarkable for cowardice, why, the case would be altered;
+but this was impossible--and he had now no other means of preserving it
+to posterity than by creating a posterity to inherit it. He saw, too,
+that the world was likely to become convulsed. Wars, as everybody
+knew, were certainly to break out; and would it not be an excellent
+opportunity for being father to a colonel, or, perhaps, a general, that
+might astonish the world.
+
+The change visible in Neal, after the schoolmaster's last visit,
+absolutely thunder-struck all who knew him. The clothes, which he had
+rashly taken in to fit his shrivelled limbs, were once more let out. The
+tailor expanded with a new spirit; his joints ceased to be supple, as
+in the days of his valor; his eye became less fiery, but more brilliant.
+From being martial, he got desperately gallant; but, somehow, he could
+not afford to act the hero and lover both at the same time. This,
+perhaps, would be too much to expect from a tailor. His policy was
+better. He resolved to bring all his available energy to bear upon
+the charms of whatever fair nymph he should select for the honor of
+matrimony; to waste his spirit in fighting would, therefore, be a
+deduction from the single purpose in view.
+
+The transition from war to love is by no means so remarkable as we might
+at first imagine. We quote Jack Falstaff in proof of this, or, if the
+reader be disposed to reject our authority, then we quote Ancient Pistol
+himself--both of whom we consider as the most finished specimens of
+heroism that ever carried a safe skin. Acres would have been a hero had
+he won gloves to prevent the courage from oozing out at his palms, or
+not felt such an unlucky antipathy to the "snug lying in the Abbey;" and
+as for Captain Bobadil, he never had an opportunity of putting his plan,
+for vanquishing an army, into practice. We fear, indeed, that neither
+his character, nor Ben Jonson's knowledge of human nature, is properly
+understood; for it certainly could not be expected that a man, whose
+spirit glowed to encounter a whole host, could, without tarnishing his
+dignity, if closely pressed, condescend to fight an individual. But
+as these remarks on courage may be felt by the reader as an invidious
+introduction of a subject disagreeable to him, we beg to hush it for the
+present and return to the tailor.
+
+No sooner had Neal begun to feel an inclination to matrimony, than his
+friends knew that his principles had veered, by the change now visible
+in his person and deportment. They saw he had ratted from courage, and
+joined love. Heretofore his life had been all winter, darkened by storm
+and hurricane. The fiercer virtues had played the devil with him; every
+word was thunder, every look lightning; but now all that had passed
+away;--before, he was the Jortiter in re, at present he was the suaviter
+in modo. His existence was perfect spring--beautifully vernal. All the
+amiable and softer qualities began to bud about his heart; a genial
+warmth was diffused over him; his soul got green within him; every day
+was serene; and if a cloud happened to be come visible, there was
+a roguish rainbow astride of it, on which sat a beautiful Iris that
+laughed down at him, and seemed to say, "why the dickens, Neal, don't
+you marry a wife?"
+
+Neal could not resist the afflatus which descended on him; an ethereal
+light dwelled, he thought, upon the face of nature; the color of the
+cloth, which he cut out from day to day, was to his enraptured eye like
+the color of Cupid's wings--all purple; his visions were worth their
+weight in gold; his dreams, a credit to the bed he slept on; and his
+feelings, like blind puppies, young and alive to the milk of love and
+kindness which they drew from his heart. Most of this delight escaped
+the observation of the world, for Neal, like your true lover, became
+shy and mysterious. It is difficult to say what he resembled; no dark
+lantern ever had more light shut up within itself, than Neal had in his
+soul, although his friends were not aware of it. They knew, indeed, that
+he had turned his back upon valor; but beyond this their knowledge did
+not extend.
+
+Neal was shrewd enough to know that what he felt must be love;--nothing
+else could distend him with happiness, until his soul felt light and
+bladder-like, but love. As an oyster opens, when expecting the tide, so
+did his soul expand at the contemplation of matrimony. Labor ceased to
+be a trouble to him; he sang and sewed from morning to night; his hot
+goose no longer burned him, for his heart was as hot as his goose; the
+vibrations of his head, at each successive stitch, were no longer sad
+and melancholy. There was a buoyant shake of exultation in them which
+showed that his soul was placid and happy within him.
+
+Endless honor be to Neal Malone for the originality with which he
+managed the tender sentiment! He did not, like your commonplace lovers,
+first discover a pretty girl, and afterwards become enamored of her. No
+such thing, he had the passion prepared beforehand--cut out and made up
+as it were, ready for any girl whom it might fit. This was falling in
+love in the abstract, and let no man condemn it without a trial; for
+many a long-winded argument could be urged in its defence. It is always
+wrong to commence business without capital, and Neal had a good stock
+to begin with. All we beg is, that the reader will not confound it with
+Platonism, which never marries; but he is at full liberty to call it
+Socratism, which takes unto itself a wife, and suffers accordingly.
+
+Let no one suppose that Neal forgot the schoolmaster's kindness, or
+failed to be duly grateful for it. Mr. O'Connor was the first person
+whom he consulted touching his passion. With a cheerful soul--he waited
+on that melancholy and gentleman-like man, and in the very luxury of his
+heart told him that he was in love.
+
+"In love, Neal!" said the schoolmaster. "May I inquire with whom?"
+
+"Wid nobody in particular, yet," replied Neal; "but of late I'm got
+divilish fond o' the girls in general."
+
+"And do you call that being in love, Neal?" said Mr. O'Connor.
+
+"Why, what else would I call it?" returned the tailor. "Amn't I fond of
+them?"
+
+"Then it must be what is termed the Universal Passion, Neal," observed
+Mr. O'Connor, "although it is the first time I have seen such an
+illustration of it as you present in your own person."
+
+"I wish you would advise me how to act," said Neal; "I'm as happy as a
+prince since I began to get fond o' them, an' to think of marriage."
+
+The schoolmaster shook his head again, and looked rather miserable. Neal
+rubbed his hands with glee, and looked perfectly happy. The schoolmaster
+shook his head again, and looked more miserable than before. Neal's
+happiness also increased on the second rubbing.
+
+Now, to tell the secret at once, Mr. O'Connor would not have appeared so
+miserable, were it not for Neal's happiness; nor Neal so happy, were it
+not for Mr. O'Connor's misery. It was all the result of contrast; but
+this you will not understand unless you be deeply read in modern novels.
+
+Mr. O'Connor, however, was a man of sense, who knew, upon this
+principle, that the longer he continued to shake his head, the more
+miserable he must become, and the more also would he increase Neal's
+happiness; but he had no intention of increasing Neal's happiness at
+his own expense--for, upon the same hypothesis, it would have been for
+Neal's interest had he remained shaking his head there, and getting
+miserable until the day of judgment. He consequently declined giving the
+third shake, for he thought that plain conversation was, after all,
+more significant and forcible than the most eloquent nod, however ably
+translated.
+
+"Neal," said he, "could you, by stretching your imagination, contrive to
+rest contented with nursing your passion in solitude, and love the sex
+at a distance?"
+
+"How could I nurse and mind my business?" replied the tailor. I'll never
+nurse so long as I'll have the wife; and as for imagination it depends
+upon the grain of it, whether I can stretch it or not. I don't know that
+I ever made a coat of it in my life."
+
+"You don't understand me, Neal," said the schoolmaster. "In recommending
+marriage, I was only driving one evil out of you by introducing another.
+Do you think that, if you abandoned all thoughts of a wife, you would
+get heroic again?--that is, would you, take once more to the love of
+fighting?"
+
+"There is no doubt but I would," said the tailor: "If I miss the wife,
+I'll kick up such a dust as never was seen in the parish, an' you're
+the first man that I'll lick. But now that I'm in love," he continued,
+"sure, I ought to look out for the wife."
+
+"Ah! Neal," said the schoolmaster, "you are tempting destiny: your
+temerity be, with all its melancholy consequences, upon your own head."
+
+"Come," said the tailor, "it wasn't to hear you groaning to the tune of
+'Dhrimmind-hoo,' or 'The ould woman rockin' her cradle,' that I came;
+but to know if you could help me in makin' out the wife. That's the
+discoorse."
+
+"Look at me, Neal," said the schoolmaster, solemnly; "I am at this
+moment, and have been any time for the last fifteen years, a living
+caveto against matrimony. I do not think that earth possesses such a
+luxury as a single solitary life. Neal, the monks of old were happy men:
+they were all fat and had double chins; and, Neal, I tell you, that all
+fat men are in general happy. Care cannot come at them so readily as
+at a thin man; before it gets through the strong outworks, of flesh
+and blood with which they are surrounded, it becomes treacherous to its
+original purpose, joins the cheerful spirits it meets in the system, and
+dances about the heart in all the madness of mirth; just like a sincere
+ecclesiastic, who comes to lecture a good fellow against drinking, but
+who forgets his lecture over his cups, and is laid under the table with
+such success, that he either never comes to finish his lecture, or
+comes often; to be laid under the table, Look at me Neal, how wasted,
+fleshless, and miserable, I stand before you. You know how my garments
+have shrunk in, and what a solid man I was before marriage. Neal,
+pause, I beseech you: otherwise you stand a strong chance of becoming a
+nonentity like myself."
+
+"I don't care what I become," said the tailor; "I can't think that you'd
+be so: unsonable as to expect that any of the Malones; should pass
+out of the world widout either bein' bate or marrid. Have rason, Mr.
+O'Connor, an' if you can help me to the wife, I promise to take in your
+coat the next time--for nothin'."
+
+"Well, then," said Mr. O'Connor, "what-would you think of the butcher's
+daughter, Biddy Neil? You have always had a thirst for blood, and here
+you may have it gratified in an innocent manner, should you ever become
+sanguinary again. 'Tis true, Neal, she is twice your size, and possesses
+three times your strength; but for that very reason, Neal, marry her if
+you can. Large animals are placid; and heaven preserve those bachelors,
+whom I wish well, from a small wife: 'tis such who always wield the
+sceptre of domestic life, and rule their husbands with a rod of iron."
+
+"Say no more, Mr. O'Connor," replied the tailor, "she's the very girl
+I'm in love wid, an' never fear, but I'll overcome her heart if I it can
+be done by man. Now, step over the way to my house, an' we'll have a sup
+on the head of it. Who's that calling?"
+
+"Ah! Neal, I know the tones--there's a shrillness in them not to be
+mistaken. Farewell! I must depart; you have heard the proverb, 'those
+who are bound must obey.' Young Jack, I presume, is squalling, and I
+must either nurse him, rock the cradle, or sing comic tunes for him,
+though heaven knows with what a disastrous heart I often sing, 'Begone
+dull care,' the 'Rakes of Newcastle,' or 'Peas upon a Trencher.' Neal,
+I say again, pause before you take this leap in the dark. Pause, Neal, I
+entreat you. Farewell!"
+
+Neal, however, was gifted with the heart of an Irishman, and scorned
+caution as the characteristic of a coward; he had, as it appeared,
+abandoned all design of fighting, but the courage still adhered to him
+even in making love. He consequently conducted the siege of Biddy Neil's
+heart with a degree of skill and valor which would not have come amiss
+to Marshal Gerald at the siege of Antwerp. Locke or Dugald Stewart,
+indeed, had they been cognizant of the tailor's triumph, might have
+illustrated the principle on which he succeeded--as to ourselves, we
+can only conjecture it. Our own opinion is, that they were both animated
+with a congenial spirit. Biddy was the very pink of pugnacity, and
+could throw in a body blow, or plant a facer, with singular energy
+and science. Her prowess hitherto had, we confess, been displayed only
+within the limited range of domestic life; but should she ever find
+it necessary to exercise it upon a larger scale, there was no doubt
+whatsoever, in the opinion of her mother, brothers, and sisters, every
+one of whom she had successively subdued, that she must undoubtedly
+distinguish herself. There was certainly one difficulty which the tailor
+had not to encounter in the progress of his courtship; the field was
+his own; he had not a rival to dispute his claim. Neither was there any
+opposition given by her friends; they were, on the contrary, all anxious
+for the match; and when the arrangements were concluded, Neal felt his
+hand squeezed by them in succession, with an expression more resembling
+condolence than joy. Neal, however, had been bred to tailoring, and not
+to metaphysics; he could cut out a coat very well, but we do not say
+that he could trace a principle--as what tailor, except Jeremy Taylor,
+could?
+
+There was nothing particular in the wedding. Mr. O'Connor was asked by
+Neal to be present at it: but he shook his head, and told him that
+he had not courage to attend it, or inclination to witness any man's
+sorrows but his own. He met the wedding party by accident, and was heard
+to exclaim with a sigh, as they flaunted past him in gay exuberance of
+spirits--"Ah, poor Neal! he is going like one of her father's cattle to
+the shambles! Woe is me for having suggested matrimony to the tailor! He
+will not long-be under the necessity of saying that he 'is blue-moulded
+for want of a beating.' The butcheress will fell him like a Kerry ox,
+and I may have his blood to answer for, and his discomfiture to feel
+for, in addition to my own miseries."
+
+On the evening of the wedding-day, about the hour of ten o'clock,
+Neal--whose spirits were uncommonly exalted, for his heart luxuriated
+within him--danced with his bride's maid; after the dance he sat beside
+her, and got eloquent in praise of her beauty; and it is said, too, that
+he whispered to her, and chucked her chin with considerable gallantry.
+The tete-a-tete continued for some time without exciting particular
+attention, with one exception; but that exception was worth a whole
+chapter of general rules. Mrs. Malone rose up, then sat down again, and
+took off a glass of the native; she got up a second time--all the wife
+rushed upon her heart--she approached them, and in a fit of the most
+exquisite sensibility, knocked the bride's maid down, and gave the
+tailor a kick of affecting pathos upon the inexpressibles. The whole
+scene was a touching one on both sides. The tailor was sent on all-fours
+to the floor; but Mrs. Malone took him quietly up, put him under her arm
+as one would a lap dog, and with stately step marched him away to the
+connubial, apartment, in which everything remained very quiet for the
+rest of the night.
+
+The next morning Mr. O'Connor presented himself to congratulate the
+tailor on his happiness. Neal, as his friend shook hands with him, gave
+the schoolmaster's fingers a slight squeeze, such as a man gives who
+would gently entreat your sympathy. The schoolmaster looked at him, and
+thought he shook his head. Of this, however, he could not be certain;
+for, as he shook his own during the moment of observation, he concluded
+that it might be a mere mistake of the eye, or perhaps the result of a
+mind predisposed to be credulous on the subject of shaking heads.
+
+We wish it were in our power to draw a veil, or curtain, or blind of
+some description, over the remnant of the tailor's narrative that is to
+follow; but as it is the duty of every faithful historian to give
+the secret causes of appearances which the world in general do not
+understand, so we think it but honest to go on, impartially and
+faithfully, without shrinking from the responsibility that is frequently
+annexed to truth.
+
+For the first three days after matrimony, Neal felt like a man who had
+been translated to a new and more lively state of existence. He had
+expected, and flattered himself, that, the moment this event should
+take place, he would once more resume his heroism, and experience
+the pleasure of a drubbing. This determination he kept a profound
+secret--nor was it known until a future period, when he disclosed it to
+Mr. O'Connor. He intended, therefore, that marriage should be nothing
+more than a mere parenthesis in his life--a kind of asterisk, pointing,
+in a note at the bottom, to this single exception in his general
+conduct--a _nota bene_ to the spirit of a martial man, intimating that
+he had been peaceful only for a while. In truth, he was, during the
+influence of love over him, and up to the very day of his marriage,
+secretly as blue-moulded as ever for want of a beating. The heroic
+penchant lay snugly latent in his heart, unchecked and unmodified. He
+flattered himself that he was achieving a capital imposition upon the
+world at large--that he was actually hoaxing mankind in general--and
+that such an excellent piece of knavish tranquillity had never been
+perpetrated before his time.
+
+On the first week after his marriage, there chanced to be a fair in
+the next market-town. Neal, after breakfast, brought forward a bunch of
+shillelahs, in order to select the best; the wife inquired the purpose
+of the selection, and Neal declared that he was resolved to have a fight
+that day, if it were to be had, he said, for love or money. "The thruth
+is," he exclaimed, strutting with fortitude about the house, "the thruth
+is, that I've done the whole of yez--I'm as _blue-mowlded_ as ever for
+want of a batin'."
+
+"Don't go," said the wife.
+
+"I will go," said Neal, with vehemence; "I'll go if the whole parish was
+to go to prevint me."
+
+In about another half-hour Neal sat down quietly to his business,
+instead of going to the fair!
+
+Much ingenious speculation might be indulged in, upon this abrupt
+termination to the tailor's most formidable resolution; but, for our own
+part, we will prefer going on with the narrative, leaving the reader
+at liberty to solve the mystery as he pleases. In the mean time, we say
+this much--let those who cannot make it out, carry it to their tailor;
+it is a tailor's mystery, and no one has so good a right to understand
+it--except, perhaps, a tailor's wife.
+
+At the period of his matrimony, Neal had become as plump and as stout
+as he ever was known to be in his plumpest and stoutest days. He and the
+schoolmaster had been very intimate about this time; but we know not how
+it happened that soon afterwards he felt a modest bridelike reluctance
+in meeting with that afflicted gentleman. As the eve of his union
+approached, he was in the habit, during the schoolmaster's visits to
+his workshop, of alluding, in rather a sarcastic tone, considering the
+unthriving appearance of his friend, to the increasing lustiness of
+his person. Nay, he has often leaped up from his lap-board, and, in the
+strong spirit of exultation, thrust out his leg in attestation of his
+assertion, slapping it, moreover, with a loud laugh of triumph, that
+sounded like a knell to the happiness of his emaciated acquaintance.
+The schoolmaster's philosophy, however, unlike his flesh, never departed
+from him; his usual observation was, "Neal, we are both receding from
+the same point; you increase in flesh, whilst I, heaven help me, am fast
+diminishing."
+
+The tailor received these remarks with very boisterous mirth, whilst
+Mr. O'Connor simply shook his head, and looked sadly upon his limbs,
+now shrouded in a superfluity of garments, somewhat resembling a slender
+thread of water in a shallow summer stream, nearly wasted away, and
+surrounded by an unproportionate extent of channel.
+
+The fourth month after the marriage arrived. Neal, one day, near its
+close, began to dress himself in his best apparel. Even then, when
+buttoning his waistcoat, he shook his head after the manner of Mr.
+O'Connor, and made observations upon the great extent to which it
+over-folded him.
+
+Well, thought he, with a sigh--this waistcoat certainly did fit me to a
+T: but it's wondherful to think how--cloth stretches.
+
+"Neal," said the wife, on perceiving him dressed, "where are you bound
+for?"
+
+"Faith, for life," replied Neal, with a mitigated swagger; "and I'd as
+soon, if it had been the will of Provid--"
+
+He paused.
+
+"Where are you going?" asked the wife, a second time.
+
+"Why," he answered, "only to the dance at Jemmy Connolly's; I'll be back
+early."
+
+"Don't go," said the wife. "I'll go," said Neal, "if the whole
+counthry was to prevent me. Thunder an' lightnin,' woman, who am I?" he
+exclaimed, in a loud but rather infirm voice; "arn't I Neal Malone, that
+never met a man who'd fight him! Neal Malone, that was never beat by
+man! Why, tare-an-ounze, woman! Whoo! I'll get enraged some time, an'
+play the divil? Who's afeard, I say?"
+
+"Don't go," added the wife a third time, giving Neal a significant look
+in the face.
+
+In about another half-hour, Neal sat down quietly to his business,
+instead of going to the dance!
+
+Neal now turned himself, like many a sage in similar circumstances, to
+philosophy; that is to say--he began to shake his head upon principle,
+after the manner of the schoolmaster. He would, indeed, have preferred
+the bottle upon principle; but there was no getting at the bottle,
+except through the wife; and it so happened that by the time it reached
+him, there was little consolation left in it. Neal bore all in silence;
+for silence, his friend had often told him, was a proof of wisdom.
+
+Soon after this, Neal, one evening, met Mr. O'Connor by chance upon a
+plank which crossed a river. This plank was only a foot in breadth, so
+that no two individuals could pass each other upon it. We cannot find
+words in which to express the dismay of both, on finding that they
+absolutely glided past one another without collision.
+
+Both paused, and surveyed each other solemnly; but the astonishment was
+all on the side of Mr. O'Connor.
+
+"Neal," said the schoolmaster, "by all the household gods, I conjure you
+to speak, that I may be assured you live!"
+
+The ghost of a blush crossed the churchyard visage of the tailor.
+
+"Oh!" he exclaimed, "why the devil did you tempt me to marry a wife."
+
+"Neal," said his friend, "answer me in the most solemn manner
+possible--throw into your countenance all the gravity you can assume;
+speak as if you were under the hands of the hangman, with the rope about
+your neck, for the question is, indeed, a trying-one which I am about to
+put. Are you still 'blue-moulded for want of beating?'"
+
+The tailor collected himself to make a reply; he put one leg out--the
+very leg which he used to show in triumph to his friend; but, alas, how
+dwindled! He opened his waistcoat, and lapped it round him, until he
+looked like a weasel on its hind legs. He then raised himself up on his
+tip toes, and, in an awful whisper, replied, "No!!! the devil a bit I'm
+blue-mowlded for want of a batin."
+
+The schoolmaster shook his head in his own miserable manner; but, alas!
+he soon perceived that the tailor was as great an adept at shaking the
+head as himself. Nay, he saw that there was a calamitous refinement--a
+delicacy of shake in the tailor's vibrations, which gave to his own nod
+a very commonplace character.
+
+The next day the tailor took in his clothes; and from time to time
+continued to adjust them to the dimensions of his shrinking person.
+The schoolmaster and he, whenever they could steal a moment, met and
+sympathized together. Mr. O'Connor, however, bore up somewhat better
+than Neal. The latter was subdued in heart and in spirit; thoroughly,
+completely, and intensely vanquished. His features became sharpened
+by misery, for a termagant wife is the whetstone on which all the
+calamities of a hen-pecked husband are painted by the devil. He no
+longer strutted as he was wont to do; he no longer carried a cudgel
+as if he wished to wage a universal battle with mankind. He was now a
+married man.--Sneakingiy, and with a cowardly crawl did he creep along
+as if every step brought him nearer to the gallows. The schoolmaster's
+march of misery was far slower than Neal's: the latter distanced him.
+Before three years passed, he had shrunk up so much, that he could not
+walk abroad of a windy day without carrying weights in his pockets to
+keep him firm on the earth, which he once trod with the step of a giant.
+He again sought the schoolmaster, with whom indeed he associated as
+much as possible. Here he felt certain of receiving sympathy; nor was
+he disappointed. That worthy, but miserable, man and Neal, often retired
+beyond the hearing of their respective wives, and supported each other
+by every argument in their power. Often have they been heard, in the
+dusk of evening, singing behind a remote hedge that melancholy ditty,
+"Let us both be unhappy together;" which rose upon the twilight breeze
+with a cautious quaver of sorrow truly heart-rending and lugubrious.
+
+"Neal," said Mr. O'Connor, on one of those occasions, "here is a book
+which I recommend to your perusal; it is called 'The Afflicted Man's
+Companion;' try if you cannot glean some consolation out of it."
+
+"Faith," said Neal, "I'm forever oblaged to you, but I don't want it.
+I've had 'The Afflicted Man's Companion' too long, and divil an atom of
+consolation I can get out of it. I have one o' them I tell you; but, be
+me sowl, I'll not undhertake a pair o' them. The very name's enough for
+me." They then separated.
+
+The tailor's _vis vitae_ must have been powerful, or he would have died.
+In two years more his friends could not distinguish him from his own
+shadow; a circumstance which was of great inconvenience to him. Several
+grasped at the hand of the shadow instead of his; and one man was near,
+paying it five and sixpence for making a pair of smallclothes. Neal, it
+is true, undeceived him with some trouble; but candidly admitted that he
+was not able to carry home the money. It was difficult, indeed, for the
+poor tailor to bear what he felt; it is true he bore it as long as
+he could; but at length he became suicidal, and often had thoughts of
+"making his own quietus with his bare bodkin." After many deliberations
+and afflictions, he ultimately made the attempt; but, alas! he found
+that the blood of the Malones refused to flow upon so ignominious an
+occasion. So he solved the phenomenon; although the truth was, that his
+blood was not "i' the vein" for't; none was to be had. What then was to
+be done? He resolved to get rid of life by some process; and the next
+that occurred to him was hanging. In a solemn spirit he prepared a
+selvage, and suspended himself from the rafter of his workshop; but here
+another disappintment awaited him--he would not hang. Such was his want
+of gravity, that his own weight proved insufficient to occasion his
+death by mere suspension. His third attempt was at drowning, but he
+was too light to sink; all the elements,--all his own energies joined
+themselves, he thought, in a wicked conspiracy to save his life. Having
+thus tried every avenue to destruction, and failed in all, he felt like
+a man doomed to live for ever. Henceforward he shrunk and shrivelled by
+slow degrees, until in the course of time he became so attenuated, that
+the grossness of human vision could no longer reach him.
+
+This, however, could not last always. Though still alive, he was, to all
+intents and purposes, imperceptible. He could now only be heard; he was
+reduced to a mere essence--the very echo of human existence, _vox
+el praiterea nihil_. It is true the schoolmaster asserted that he
+occasionally caught passing glimpses of him; but that was because he
+had been himself nearly spiritualized by affliction, and his visual ray
+purged in the furnace of domestic tribulation. By and by Neal's voice
+lessened, got fainter and more indistinct, until at length nothing but
+a doubtful murmur could be heard, which ultimately could scarcely be
+distinguished from a ringing in the ears.
+
+Such was the awful and mysterious fate of the tailor, who, as a hero,
+could not of course die; he merely dissolved like an icicle, wasted into
+immateriality, and finally melted away beyond the perception of mortal
+sense. Mr. O'Connor is still living, and once more in the fulness of
+perfect health and strength. His wife, however, we may as well hint, has
+been dead more than two years.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ART MAGUIRE;
+
+OR, THE BROKEN PLEDGE.
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+In proposing to write a series of "Tales for the Irish People," the
+author feels perfectly conscious of the many difficulties by which he
+is surrounded, and by which he may be still met in his endeavors to
+accomplish that important task. In order, however, to make everything as
+clear and intelligible as possible, he deems it necessary, in the first
+place, to state what his object is in undertaking it: that object is
+simply to improve their physical and social condition--generally;
+and through the medium of vivid and striking, but unobjectionable
+narratives, to inculcate such principles as may enable Irishmen to think
+more clearly, reason more correctly, and act more earnestly upon the
+general duties, which, from their position in life, they are called upon
+to perform. With regard to those who feel apprehensive that anything
+calculated to injure the doctrinal convictions of the Catholic people
+may be suffered to creep into these Tales, the author has only to assure
+them--that such an object comes within the scope neither of his plan
+or inclinations. It is not his intention to make these productions the
+vehicles of Theology or Polemics; but studiously to avoid anything and
+everything that even approaches the sphere of clerical duty. His
+object, so far from that, is the inculcation of general, not peculiar,
+principles--principles which neither affect nor offend any creed, but
+which are claimed and valued by all. In this way, by making amusement
+the handmaiden of instruction, the author believes it possible to let
+into the cabin, the farm-house, and even the landlord's drawing-room,
+a light by which each and all of them may read many beneficial
+lessons--lessons that will, it is hoped, abide with them, settle down
+in their hearts, and by giving them a, clearer sense of their respective
+duties, aid in improving and regenerating their condition.
+
+To send to the poor man's fireside, through the medium of Tales that
+will teach his heart and purify his affections, those simple lessons
+which may enable him to understand his own value--that will generate
+self-respect, independence, industry, love of truth, hatred of deceit
+and falsehood, habits of cleanliness, order, and punctuality--together
+with all those lesser virtues which help to create a proper sense of
+personal and domestic comfort--to assist in working out these healthful
+purposes is the Author's anxious wish--a task in which any man may feel
+proud to engage.
+
+Self-reliance, manly confidence in the effect of their own virtues,
+respect for the virtues that ought to adorn rank, rather than for
+rank itself, and a spurning of that vile servility which is only the
+hereditary remnant of bygone oppression, will be taught the people
+in such a way as to make them feel how far up in society a high moral
+condition can and ought to place them. Nor is this all;--the darker
+page of Irish life shall be laid open before them--in which they will be
+taught, by examples that they can easily understand, the fearful details
+of misery, destitution, banishment, and death, which the commission of a
+single crime may draw down, not only upon the criminal himself, but upon
+those innocent and beloved connections whom he actually punishes by his
+guilt.
+
+It is, indeed, with fear and trembling that the Author undertakes such a
+great and important task as this. If he fail, however, he may well say--
+
+"_Quem si non tenuifc, tamon magnis excidit ausis_."
+
+Still he is willing to hope that, through the aid of truthful fiction,
+operating upon the feelings of his countrymen, and on their knowledge of
+peasant life, he may furnish them with such a pleasing Encyclopedia of
+social duty--now lit up with their mirth, and again made tender with
+their sorrow--as will force them to look upon him as a benefactor--to
+forget his former errors--and to cherish his name with affection, when
+he himself shall be freed forever from those cares and trials of life
+which have hitherto been his portion.
+
+In the following simple narrative of "The Broken Pledge," it was his
+aim, without leading his readers out of the plain paths of every-day
+life or into the improbable creations of Romance, to detail the
+character of such an individual as almost every man must have often seen
+and noticed within the society by which he is surrounded. He trusts that
+the moral, as regards both husband and wife, is wholesome and good,
+and calculated to warn those who would follow in the footsteps of "Art
+Maguire."
+
+Dubin, July 4, 1845.
+
+
+
+It has been often observed, and as frequently inculcated, through the
+medium of both press and pulpit, that there is scarcely any human being
+who, how striking soever his virtues, or how numerous his good qualities
+may be, does not carry in his moral constitution some particular
+weakness or failing, or perhaps vice, to which he is especially subject,
+and which may, if not properly watched and restrained, exercise an
+injurious and evil influence over his whole life. Neither have the
+admonitions of press or pulpit ended in merely laying down this obvious
+and undeniable truth, but, on the contrary, very properly proceeded to
+add, that one of the most pressing duties of man is to examine his own
+heart, in order to ascertain what this particular vice or failing in his
+case may be, in order that, when discovered, suitable means be taken to
+remove or overcome it.
+
+The man whose history we are about to detail for the reader's
+instruction, was, especially during the latter years of his life, a
+touching, but melancholy illustration of this indisputable truth; in
+other words, he possessed the weakness or the vice, as the reader may
+consider it, and found, when too late, that a yielding resolution, or,
+to use a phrase perhaps better understood, a good intention, was but a
+feeble and inefficient instrument with which to attempt its subjection.
+Having made these few preliminary observations, as being suitable, in
+our opinion, to the character of the incidents which follow, we proceed
+at once to commence our narrative.
+
+Arthur, or, as he was more familiarly called by the people, Art Maguire,
+was the son of parents who felt and knew that they were descended from
+higher and purer blood than could be boasted of by many of the families
+in their neighborhood. Art's father was a small farmer, who held about
+ten acres of land, and having a family of six children--three sons, and
+as many daughters--he determined upon putting one or two of the former
+to a trade, so soon as they should be sufficiently grown up for that
+purpose. This, under his circumstances was a proper and provident
+resolution to make. His farm was too small to be parceled out, as is too
+frequently the case, into small miserable patches, upon each of which
+a young and inconsiderate couple are contented to sit down, with the
+prospect of rearing up and supporting a numerous family with wofully
+inadequate means; for although it is generally a matter of certainty
+that the families of these young persons will increase, yet it is a
+perfectly well-known fact that the little holding will not, and the
+consequence is, that families keep subdividing on the one hand, and
+increasing on the other, until there is no more room left for them.
+Poverty then ensues, and as poverty in such cases begets competition,
+and competition crime, so we repeat that Condy Maguire's intention,
+as being one calculated to avoid such a painful state of things, was a
+proof of his own good sense and forethought.
+
+Arthur's brother, Frank, was a boy not particularly remarkable for any
+peculiar brilliancy of intellect, or any great vivacity of disposition.
+When at school he was never in a quarrel, nor engaged in any of those
+wild freaks which are sore annoyances to a village schoolmaster, and
+daring outrages against his authority. He was consequently a favorite
+not only with the master, but with all the sober, well-behaved boys
+of the school, and many a time has Teague Rooney, with whom he was
+educated, exclaimed, as he addressed him:
+
+"Go to your sate, Frank abouchal; faith, although there are boys endowed
+wid more brilliancy of intellect than has fallen to your lot, yet you
+are the very youth who understands what is due to legitimate authority,
+at any rate, an' that's no small gift in itself; go to your sate, sorrow
+taw will go to your substratum this bout, for not having your lesson;
+for well I know it wasn't idleness that prevented you, but the natural
+sobriety and slowness of intellect you are gifted wid. If you are slow,
+however, you are sure, and I'll pledge my reputaytion aginst that of the
+great O'Flaherty himself, that you and your brinoge of a brother will
+both live to give a beautiful illustration of the celebrated race
+between the hare and the tortoise yet. Go to your sate wid impunity, and
+tell your dacent mother I was inquiring for her."
+
+Such, indeed, was a tolerably correct view of Frank's character. He was
+quiet, inoffensive, laborious, and punctual; though not very social or
+communicative, yet he was both well-tempered and warm-hearted, points
+which could not, without considerable opportunities of knowing him, be
+readily perceived. Having undertaken the accomplishment of an object, he
+permitted no circumstance to dishearten or deter him in working out
+his purpose; if he said it, he did it; for his word was a sufficient
+guarantee that he would; his integrity was consequently respected,
+and his resolution, when he expressed it, was seldom disputed by his
+companions, who knew that in general it was inflexible. After what we
+have said, it is scarcely necessary to add that he was both courageous
+and humane.
+
+These combinations of character frequently occur. Many a man not
+remarkable for those qualities of the head that impress themselves most
+strikingly upon the world, is nevertheless gifted with those excellent
+principles of the heart which, although without much show, and scarcely
+any noise, go to work out the most useful purposes of life. Arthur, on
+the contrary, was a contrast to his brother, and a strong one, too, on
+many points; his intellect was far superior to that of Frank's, but,
+on the other hand, he by no means possessed his brother's steadiness or
+resolution. We do not say, however, that he was remarkable for the want
+of either, far from it; he could form a resolution, and work it out as
+well as his brother, provided his course was left unobstructed: nay,
+more, he could overcome difficulties many and varied, provided only that
+he was left unassailed by, one solitary temptation--that of an easy
+and good-humored vanity. He was conscious of his talents, and of his
+excellent qualities, and being exceedingly vain, nothing gave him
+greater gratification than to hear himself praised for possessing
+them--for it is a fact, that every man who is vain of any particular
+gift, forgets that he did not bestow that gift upon himself, and that
+instead of priding himself upon the possession of it, he should only be
+humbly thankful to the Being who endowed him with it.
+
+Art was social, communicative, and, although possessing what might be
+considered internal resources more numerous, and of a far higher order
+than did his brother, yet, somehow, it was clear that he had not the
+same self-dependence that marked the other. He always wanted, as it.
+were, something to lean upon, although in truth he did not at all
+require it, had he properly understood himself. The truth is, like
+thousands, he did not begin to perceive, or check in time, those early
+tendencies that lead a heart naturally indolent, but warm and generous,
+to the habit of relying first, in small things, upon external sources
+and objects, instead of seeking and finding within itself those
+materials for manly independence, with which every heart is supplied,
+were its possessor only aware of the fact, and properly instructed how
+to use them.
+
+Art's enjoyments, for instance, were always of a social nature, and
+never either solitary or useful in their tendencies; of this character
+was every thing he engaged in. He would not make a ship of water
+flaggons by himself, nor sail it by himself--he would not spin a top,
+nor trundle a hoop without a companion--if sent upon a message, or to
+dig a basket of potatoes in the field, he would rather purchase the
+society of a companion with all the toys or playthings he possessed than
+do either alone. His very lessons he would not get unless his brother
+Frank got his along with him. The reader may thus perceive that he
+acquired no early habit of self-restraint, no principle of either labor
+or enjoyment within, himself, and of course could acquire none at all
+of self-reliance. A social disposition in our amusements is not only
+proper, but natural, for we believe it is pretty generally known, that
+he who altogether prefers such amusements is found to be deficient
+in the best and most generous principles of our nature. Every thing,
+however, has its limits and its exceptions. Art, if sent to do a day's
+work alone, would either abandon it entirely, and bear the brunt of his
+father's anger, or he would, as we have said, purchase the companionship
+of some neighbor's son or child, for, provided he had any one to whom he
+could talk, he cared not, and having thus succeeded, he would finish it
+triumphantly.
+
+In due time, however, his great prevailing weakness, vanity, became well
+known to his family, who, already aware of his peculiar aversion to any
+kind of employment that was not social, immediately seized upon it,
+and instead of taking rational steps to remove it, they nursed it into
+stronger life by pandering to it as a convenient means of regulating,
+checking, or stimulating the whole habits of his life. His family were
+not aware of the moral consequences which they were likely to produce
+by conduct such as this, nor of the pains they were ignorantly taking to
+lay the foundation of his future misfortune and misery.
+
+"Art, my good boy, will you take your spade and clane out the remaindher
+o' that drain, between the Hannigans and us," said his father.
+
+"Well, will Frank come?"
+
+"Sure you know he can't; isn't he weedin' that bit of _blanther_ in
+Crackton's park, an' afther that sure he has to cut scraws on the
+Pirl-hill for the new barn."
+
+"Well, I'll help him if he helps me; isn't that fair? Let us join."
+
+"Hut, get out o' that, avourneen; go yourself; do what you're bid, Art."
+
+"Is it by myself? murdher alive, father, don't ax me; I'll give him my
+new Cammon if he comes."
+
+"Throth you won't; the sorra hand I'd ever wish to see the same Cammon
+in but your own; faix, it's you that can handle it in style. Well now,
+Art, well becomes myself but I thought I could play a Cammon wid the
+face o' clay wanst in my time, but may I never sin if ever I could match
+you at it; oh, sorra taste o' your Cammon you must part wid; sure I'd
+rather scower the drain myself."
+
+"Bedad I won't part wid it then."
+
+"I'd rather, I tell you, scower it myself--an' I will, too. Sure if I
+renew the ould cough an me I'll thry the _Casharawan_, (* Dandelion) that
+did me so much good the last time."
+
+"Well, that's purty! Ha, ha, ha! you to go! Oh, ay, indeed--as if I'd
+stand by an' let you. Not so bad as that comes to, either--no. Is the
+spade an' shovel in the shed?"
+
+"To be sure they are. Throth, Art, you're worth the whole o' them--the
+sorra lie in it. Well, go, avillish."
+
+This was this fine boy's weakness played upon by those who, it is true,
+were not at all conscious of the injury they were inflicting upon him at
+the time. He was certainly the pride of the family, and even while they
+humored and increased this his predominant and most dangerous foible, we
+are bound to say that they gratified their own affection as much as they
+did his vanity.
+
+His father's family consisted, as we have said, of three sons and three
+daughters. The latter were the elder, and in point of age Art, as we
+have said, was the youngest of them all. The education that he and his
+brothers received was such as the time and the neglected state of the
+country afforded them. They could all read and write tolerably well, and
+knew something of arithmetic. This was a proof that their education had
+not been neglected. And why should it? Were they not the descendants of
+the great Maguires of Fermanagh? Why, the very consciousness of their
+blood was felt as a proud and unanswerable argument against ignorance.
+The best education, therefore, that could be procured by persons in
+their humble sphere of life, they received. The eldest brother, whose
+name was Brian, did not, as is too frequently the case with the eldest
+sons of small farmers, receive so liberal a portion of instruction as
+Frank or Art. This resulted from the condition and necessities of his
+father, who could not spare him from his farm--and, indeed, it cost the
+worthy man many a sore heart. At all events, time advanced, and the two
+younger brothers were taken from school with a view of being apprenticed
+to some useful trade. The character of each was pretty well in
+accordance with their respective dispositions. Frank had no enemies, yet
+was he by no means so popular as Art, who had many. The one possessed
+nothing to excite envy, and never gave offence; the other, by the very
+superiority of his natural powers, exultingly paraded, as they were, at
+the expense of dulness or unsuccessful rivalry, created many vindictive
+maligners, who let no opportunity pass of giving him behind his back the
+harsh word which they durst not give him to his face. In spite of all
+this, his acknowledged superiority, his generosity, his candor, and
+utter ignorance or hatred of the low chicaneries of youthful cunning,
+joined to his open, intrepid, and manly character, conspired to render
+him popular in an extraordinary degree. Nay, his very failings added
+to this, and when the battle of his character was fought, all the
+traditionary errors of moral life were quoted in his favor.
+
+"Ay, ay, the boy has his faults, and who has not; I'd be glad to know?
+If he's lively, it's betther to be that, than a mosey, any day. His
+brother Frank is a good boy, but sure divil a squig of spunk or spirits
+is in him, an', my dear, you know the ould proverb, that a standin'
+pool always stinks, while the runnin' strame is sweet and clear to the
+bottom. If he's proud, he has a right to be proud, and why shouldn't he,
+seein' that it's well known he could take up more larnin' than half the
+school."
+
+"Well, but poor Frank's a harmless boy, and never gave offence to
+mortual, which, by the same token, is more than can be said of Art the
+lad."
+
+"Very well, we know all that; and maybe it 'ud be betther for himself
+if he had a sharper spice of the dioual in him--but sure the poor boy
+hasn't the brain for it. Offence! oh, the dickens may seize the offence
+poor Frank will give to man or woman, barrin' he mends his manners, and
+gats a little life into him--sure he was a year and a day in the Five
+Common Rules, an' three blessed weeks gettin' the Multiplication Table."
+
+Such, in general, was the estimate formed of their respective
+characters, by those who, of course, had an opportunity of knowing them
+best. Whether the latter were right or wrong will appear in the sequel,
+but in the meantime we must protest, even in this early stage of our
+narrative, against those popular exhibitions of mistaken sympathy, which
+in early life--the most dangerous period too--are felt and expressed
+for those who, in association with weak points of character, give strong
+indications of talent. This mistaken generosity is pernicious to the
+individual, inasmuch as it confirms him in the very errors which he
+should correct, and in the process of youthful reasoning, which is
+most selfish, induces him not only to doubt the whisperings of his
+own conscience, but to substitute in their stead the promptings of the
+silliest vanity.
+
+Having thus given a rapid sketch of these two brothers in their
+schoolboy life, we now come to that period at which their father thought
+proper to apprentice them. The choice of the trade he left to their own
+natural judgment, and as Frank was the eldest, he was allowed to choose
+first. He immediately selected that of a carpenter, as being clean,
+respectable, and within-doors; and, as he added--
+
+"Where the wages is good--and then I'm tould that one can work afther
+hours, if they wish."
+
+"Very well," said the father, "now let us hear, Art; come, alanna, what
+are you on for?"
+
+"I'll not take any trade," replied Art.
+
+"Not take any trade, Art! why, my goodness, sure you knew all along that
+you war for a trade. Don't you know when you and Frank grow up, and, of
+course, must take the world on your heads, that it isn't this strip of a
+farm that you can depend on."
+
+"That's what I think of," said Frank; "one's not to begin the world wid
+empty pockets, or, any way, widout some ground to put one's foot on."
+
+"The world!" rejoined Art; "why, what the sorra puts thoughts o' the
+world into your head, Frank? Isn't it time enough for you or me to think
+o' the world these ten years to come?"
+
+"Ay," replied Frank, "but when we come to join it isn't the time to
+begin to think of it; don't you know what the ould saying says--_ha nha
+la na guiha la na scuillaba_--it isn't on the windy day that you are to
+look for your scollops."*
+
+     * The proverb inculcates forethought and provision.
+     Scollop is an osier sharpened at both ends, by which
+     the thatch of a house is fastened down to the roof. Of
+     a windy day the thatch alone would be utterly useless,
+     if there were no scollops to keep it firm.
+
+"An' what 'ud prevent you, Art, from goin' to larn a trade?" asked his
+father.
+
+"I'd rather stay with you," replied the affectionate boy; "I don't like
+to leave you nor the family, to be goin' among strangers."
+
+The unexpected and touching nature of his motive, so different from what
+was expected, went immediately to his father's heart. He looked at his
+fine boy, and was silent for a minute, after which he wiped the moisture
+from his eyes. Art, on seeing his father affected, became so himself,
+and added--
+
+"That's my only raison, father, for not goin'; I wouldn't like to lave
+you an' them, if I could help it."
+
+"Well, acushla," replied the father, while his eyes beamed on him with
+tenderness and affection, "sure we wouldn't ax you to go, if we could
+any way avoid it--it's for your own good we do it. Don't refuse to go,
+Art; sure for my sake you won't?"
+
+"I will go, then," he replied; "I'll go for your sake, but I'll miss you
+all."
+
+"An' we'll miss you, ahagur. God bless you, Art dear, it's jist like
+you. Ay, will we in throth miss you; but, then, think what a brave fine
+thing it'll be for you to have a grip of a dacent independent trade,
+that'll keep your feet out o' the dirt while you live."
+
+"I will go," repeated Art, "but as for the trade, I'll have none but
+Frank's. I'll be a carpenter, for then he and I can be together."
+
+In addition to the affectionate motive which Art had mentioned to his
+father--and which was a true one--as occasioning his reluctance to learn
+a trade, there was another, equally strong and equally tender. In the
+immediate neighborhood there lived a family named Murray, between whom
+and the Maguires there subsisted a very kindly intimacy. Jemmy Murray
+was in fact one of the wealthiest men in that part of the parish, as
+wealth then was considered--that is to say, he farmed about forty acres,
+which he held at a moderate rent, and as he was both industrious and
+frugal, it was only a matter of consequence that he and his were well
+to do in the world. It is not likely, however, that even a passing
+acquaintance would ever have taken place between them, were it not for
+the consideration of the blood which was known to flow in the veins
+of the Fermanagh Maguires. Murray was a good deal touched with
+purse-pride--the most offensive and contemptible description of pride
+in the world--and would never have suffered an intimacy, were it not for
+the reason I have alleged. It is true he was not a man of such stainless
+integrity as Condy Maguire, because it was pretty well known that in
+the course of his life, while accumulating money, he was said to
+have stooped to practices that were, to say the least of them, highly
+discreditable. For instance, he always held over his meal, until there
+came what is unfortunately both too well known and too well felt in
+Ireland,--a dear year--a year of hunger, starvation, and famine. For the
+same reason he held over his hay, and indeed on passing his haggard you
+were certain to perceive three or four immense stacks, bleached by the
+sun and rain of two or three seasons into a tawny yellow. Go into his
+large kitchen or storehouse, and you saw three or four immense
+deal chests filled with meal, which was reserved for a season of
+scarcity--for, proud as Farmer Murray was, he did not disdain to fatten
+upon human misery. Between these two families there was, as we have
+said, an intimacy. It was wealth and worldly goods on the one side;
+integrity and old blood on the other. Be this as it may, Farmer Murray
+had a daughter, Margaret, the youngest of four, who was much about the
+age of Arthur Maguire. Margaret was a girl whom it was almost impossible
+to know and not to love. Though then but seventeen, her figure was full,
+rich, and beautifully formed. Her abundant hair was black and glossy as
+ebony, and her skin, which threw a lustre like ivory itself, had--not
+the whiteness of snow--but a whiteness a thousand times more natural--a
+whiteness that was fresh, radiant, and spotless. She was arch and full
+of spirits, but her humor--for she possessed it in abundance--was so
+artless, joyous, and innocent, that the heart was taken with it before
+one had time for reflection. Added, however, to this charming vivacity
+of temperament were many admirable virtues, and a fund of deep and
+fervent feeling, which, even at that early period of her life, had made
+her name beloved by every one in the parish, especially the poor and
+destitute. The fact is, she was her father's favorite daughter, and he
+could deny her nothing. The admirable girl was conscious of this, but
+instead of availing herself of his affection for her in a way that
+many--nay, we may say, most--would have done, for purposes of dress or
+vanity, she became an interceding angel for the poor and destitute; and
+closely as Murray loved money, yet it is due to him to say, that, on
+these occasions, she was generally successful. Indeed, he was so far
+from being insensible to his daughter's noble virtues, that he felt
+pride in reflecting that she possessed them, and gave aid ten times
+from that feeling for once that he did from a more exalted one. Such
+was Margaret Murray, and such, we are happy to say--for we know it--are
+thousands of the peasant girls of our country.
+
+It was not to be wondered at, then, that in addition to the reluctance
+which a heart naturally affectionate, like Art's, should feel on leaving
+his relations for the first time, he should experience much secret
+sorrow at being deprived of the society of this sweet and winning girl.
+
+Matters now, however, were soon arranged, and the time, nay, the very
+day for their departure was appointed. Art, though deeply smitten with
+the charms of Margaret Murray, had never yet ventured to breathe to her
+a syllable of love, being deterred naturally enough by the distance in
+point of wealth which existed between the families. Not that this alone,
+perhaps, would have prevented him from declaring his affection for her;
+but, young as he was, he had not been left unimpressed by his father's
+hereditary sense of the decent pride, strict honesty, and independent
+spirit, which should always mark the conduct and feelings of any one
+descended from the great Fermanagh Maguires. He might, therefore,
+probably have spoken, but that his pride dreaded a repulse, and that he
+could not bear to contemplate. This, joined to the natural diffidence of
+youth, sufficiently accounts for his silence.
+
+There lived, at the period of which we write, which is not a thousand
+years ago, at a place called "the Corner House," a celebrated carpenter
+named Jack M'Carroll. He was unquestionably a first-rate mechanic, kept
+a large establishment, and had ample and extensive business. To him had
+Art and Frank been apprenticed, and, indeed, a better selection could
+not have been made, for Jack was not only a good workman himself, but an
+excellent employer, and an honest man. An arrangement had been entered
+into with a neighboring farmer regarding their board and lodging,
+so that every thing was settled very much to the satisfaction of all
+parties.
+
+When the day of their departure had at length arrived, Art felt his
+affections strongly divided, but without being diminished, between
+Margaret Murray and his family; while Frank, who was calm and
+thoughtful, addressed himself to the task of getting ready such luggage
+as they had been provided with.
+
+"Frank," said Art, "don't you think we ought to go and bid farewell to a
+few of our nearest neighbors before we lave home?"
+
+"Where's the use of that?" asked Frank; "not a bit, Art; the best plan
+is jist to bid our own people farewell, and slip away without noise or
+nonsense."
+
+"You may act as you plaise, Frank," replied the other; "as for me, I'll
+call on Jemmy Hanlon and Tom Connolly, at all events; but hould," said
+he, abruptly, "ought I to do that? Isn't it their business to come to
+us?"
+
+"It is," replied Frank, "and so they would too, but that they think
+we won't start till Thursday; for you know we didn't intend to go till
+then."
+
+"Well," said Art, "that's a horse of another color: I will call on them.
+Wouldn't they think it heartless of us to go off widout seein' them? An'
+besides, Frank, why should we steal away like thieves that had the hue
+and cry at their heels? No, faith, as sure as we go at all, we'll go
+openly, an' like men that have nothing to be afraid of."
+
+"Very well," replied his brother, "have it your own way, so far as
+you're consarned, as for me, I look upon it all as mere nonsense."
+
+It is seldom that honest and manly affection fails to meet its reward,
+be the period soon or late. Had Art been guided by Frank's apparent
+indifference--who, however, acted in this matter solely for the sake of
+sparing his brother's feelings--he would have missed the opportunity of
+being a party to an incident which influenced his future life in all he
+ever afterwards enjoyed and suffered. He had gone, as he said, to bid
+farewell to his neighbors, and was on his return home in order to take
+his departure, when whom should he meet on her way to her father's
+house, after having called at his father's "to see the girls," as she
+said, with a slight emphasis upon the word girls, but Margaret Murray.
+
+As was natural, and as they had often done before under similar
+circumstances, each paused on meeting, but somehow on this occasion
+there was visible on both sides more restraint than either had ever yet
+shown. At length, the preliminary chat having ceased, a silence ensued,
+which, after a little time, was broken by Margaret, who, Art could
+perceive, blushed deeply as she spoke.
+
+"So, Art, you and Frank are goin' to lave us."
+
+"It's not with my own consint I'm goin', Margaret," he replied. As he
+uttered the words he looked at her; their eyes met, but neither could
+stand the glance of the other; they were instantly withdrawn.
+
+"I'll not forget my friends, at all events," said Art; "at least,
+there's some o' them I won't, nor wouldn't either, if I was to get a
+million o' money for doin' so."
+
+Margaret's face and neck, on hearing this, were in one glow of crimson,
+and she kept her eyes still on the ground, but made no reply. At
+length she raised them, and their glances met again; in that glance the
+consciousness of his meaning was read by both, the secret was disclosed,
+and their love told.
+
+The place where they stood was in one of those exquisitely wild but
+beautiful green country lanes that are mostly enclosed on each side
+by thorn hedges, and have their sides bespangled with a profusion
+of delicate and fragrant wild flowers, while the pathway, from the
+unfrequency of feet, is generally covered with short daisy-gemmed grass,
+with the exception of a trodden line in the middle that is made solely
+by foot-passengers. Such was the sweet spot in which they stood at the
+moment the last glance took place between them.
+
+At length Margaret spoke, but why was it that her voice was such music
+to him now? Musical and sweet it always was, and he had heard it a
+thousand times before, but why, we ask, was it now so delicious to his
+ear, so ecstatic to his heart? Ah, it was that sweet, entrancing little
+charm which trembled up from her young and beating heart, through its
+softest intonations; this low tremor it was that confirmed the tale
+which the divine glance of that dark, but soft and mellow eye, had just
+told him. But to proceed, at length she spoke--
+
+"Arthur," said the innocent girl, unconscious that she was about to do
+an act for which many will condemn her, "before you go, and I know I
+will not have an opportunity of seein' you again, will you accept of a
+keepsake from me?"
+
+
+[Illustration: PAGE AM994-- At length Margaret spoke]
+
+
+"Will I? oh, Margaret, Margaret!"--he gazed at her, but could not
+proceed, his heart was too full.
+
+"Take this," said she, "and keep it for my sake."
+
+Ho took it out of her hand, he seized the hand itself, another glance,
+and they sank into each other's arms, each trembling with an excess of
+happiness. Margaret wept. This gush of rapture relieved and lightened
+their young and innocent hearts, and Margaret having withdrawn
+herself from his arms, they could now speak more freely. It is not our
+intention, however, to detail their conversation, which may easily be
+conjectured by our readers. On looking at the keepsake, Art found that
+it was a tress of her rich and raven hair, which, we may add here, he
+tied about his heart that day, and on that heart, or rather the dust of
+that heart, it lies on this.
+
+It was fortunate for Art that he followed! his brother's judgment in
+selecting the same trade. Frank, we have said, notwithstanding his
+coldness of manner, was by no means deficient in feeling or affection;
+he possessed, however, the power of suppressing their external
+manifestations, a circumstance which not unfrequently occasioned it to
+happen that want of feeling was often imputed to him without any just
+cause. At all events, he was a guide, a monitor, and a friend to his
+brother, whom he most sincerely and affectionately loved; he kindly
+pointed out to him his errors, matured his judgment by sound practical
+advice: where it was necessary, he gave him the spur, and on other,
+occasions held him in. Art was extremely well-tempered, as was Frank
+also, so that it was impossible any two brothers could agree better, or
+live in more harmony than they did. In truth, he had almost succeeded
+in opening Art's eyes to the weak points in his character, especially
+to the greatest, and most dangerous of all--his vanity, or insatiable
+appetite for praise. They had not been long in M'Carroll's establishment
+when the young man's foibles were soon seen through, and of course began
+to be played upon; Frank, however, like a guardian angel, was always at
+hand to advise or defend him, as the case might be, and as both, in a
+physical contest, were able and willing to fight their own battles, we
+need not say that in a short time their fellow-workmen ceased to play
+off their pranks upon either of them. Everything forthwith passed very
+smoothly; Art's love for Margaret Murray was like an apple of gold in
+his heart, a secret treasure of which the world knew nothing; they saw
+each other at least once a month, when their vows were renewed, and,
+surely, we need not say, that their affection on each subsequent
+interview only became more tender and enduring.
+
+The period of Frank's and Art's apprenticeship had now nearly expired,
+and it is not too much to say that their conduct reflected the highest
+credit upon themselves. Three or four times, we believe, Art had been
+seduced, in the absence of his brother, by the influence of bad company,
+to indulge in drink, even to intoxication. This, during the greater part
+of a whole apprenticeship, considering his temperament, and the almost
+daily temptations by which he was beset, must be admitted on the whole
+to be a very moderate amount of error in that respect. On the morning
+after his last transgression, however, apprehending very naturally a
+strong remonstrance from his brother, he addressed him as follows, in
+anticipation of what he supposed Frank was about to say:--
+
+"Now, Frank, I know you're goin' to scould me, and what is more, I know
+I disarve all you could say to me; but there's one thing you don't know,
+an' that is what I suffer for lettin' myself be made a fool of last
+night. Afther the advices you have so often given me, and afther what
+my father so often tould us to think of ourselves, and afther the solemn
+promises I made to you--and that I broke, I feel as if I was nothin'
+more or less than a disgrace to the name."
+
+"Art," said the other, "I'm glad to hear you speak as you do; for it's
+a proof that repentance is in your heart. I suppose I needn't say that
+it's your intention not to be caught be these fellows again."
+
+"By the sacred--"
+
+"Whisht," said Frank, clapping his hand upon his mouth; "there's no use
+at all in rash oaths, Art. If your mind is made up honestly and firmly
+in the sight of God--and dependin' upon his assistance, that is enough
+--and a great deal betther, too, than a rash oath made in a sudden fit
+of repentance--ay, before you're properly recovered from your liquor.
+Now say no more, only promise me you won't do the like, again."
+
+"Frank, listen to me--by all the--"
+
+"Hould, Art," replied Frank, stopping him again; "I tell you once more,
+this rash swearin' is a bad sign--I'll hear no rash oaths; but listen
+you to me; if your mind is made up against drinkin' this way again, jist
+look me calmly and steadily in the face, and answer me simply by yes
+or no. Now take your time, an' don't be in a hurry--be cool--be
+calm--reflect upon what you're about to say; and whether it's your
+solemn and serious intention to abide by it. My question 'll be very
+short and very simple; your answer, as I said, will be merely yes or no.
+Will you ever allow these fellows to make you drunk again? Yes or no,
+an' not another word."
+
+"No."
+
+"That will do," said Frank; "now give me your hand, and a single word
+upon what has passed you will never hear from me."
+
+In large manufactories, and in workshops similar to that in which the
+two brothers were now serving their apprenticeship, almost every
+one knows that the drunken and profligate entertain an unaccountable
+antipathy against the moral and the sober. Art's last fit of
+intoxication was not only a triumph over himself, but, what was still
+more, a triumph over his brother, who had so often prevented him from
+falling into their snares and joining in their brutal excesses. It
+so happened, however, that about this precise period, Art had,
+unfortunately, contracted an intimacy with one of the class I speak of,
+an adroit fellow with an oily tongue, vast powers of flattery, and
+still greater powers of bearing liquor--for Frank could observe, that
+notwithstanding all their potations, he never on any occasion
+observed him affected by drink, a circumstance which raised him in his
+estimation, because he considered that he was rather an obliging, civil
+young fellow, who complied so far as to give these men his society, but
+yet had sufficient firmness to resist the temptations to drink beyond
+the bounds of moderation. The upshot of all this was, that Frank, not
+entertaining any suspicion particularly injurious to Harte, for such
+was his name, permitted his brother to associate with him much more
+frequently than he would have done, had he even guessed at his real
+character.
+
+One day, about a month after the conversation which we have just
+detailed between the two brothers, the following conversation took place
+among that class of the mechanics whom we shall term the profligates:--
+
+"So he made a solemn promise, Harte, to _Drywig_"--this was a nickname
+they had for Frank--"that he'd never smell liquor again."
+
+"A most solemnious promise," said Harte ironically; "a most solemn and
+solemnious promise; an' only that I know he's not a Methodist, I could
+a'most mistake him for Paddy M'Mahon, the locality preacher, when he
+tould me--"
+
+"Paddy M'Mahon!" exclaimed Skinadre, the first speaker, a little thin
+fellow, with white hair and red ferret eyes; "why, who the divil ever
+heard of a Methodist Praicher of the name of Paddy M'Mahon?"
+
+"It's aisy known," observed a fellow named, or rather nicknamed, Jack
+Slanty, in consequence of a deformity in his leg, that gave him the
+appearance of leaning or slanting to the one side; "it's aisy known,
+Skinadre, that you're not long in this part of the country, or you'd not
+ax who Paddy M'Mahon is."
+
+"Come, Slanty, never mind Paddy M'Mahon," said another of them; "he
+received the gift of grace in the shape of a purty Methodist wife and
+a good fortune; ay, an' a sweet love-faist he had of it; he dropped the
+Padereens over Solomon's Bridge, and tuck to the evenin' meetins--that's
+enough for you to know; and now, Harte, about Maguire?"
+
+"Why," said Harte, "if I'm not allowed to edge in a word, I had betther
+cut."
+
+"A most solemn promise, you say?"
+
+"A most solemn and solemnious promise, that was what I said; never again
+by night or day, wet or dry, high or low, in or out, up or down, here
+or there, to--to--get himself snimicated wid any liquorary fluid
+whatsomever, be the same more or less, good, bad, or indifferent, hot or
+could, thick or thin, black or white--"
+
+"Have done, Harte; quit your cursed sniftherin', an' spake like a
+Christian; do you think you can manage to circumsniffle him agin?"
+
+"Ay," said Harte, "or any man that ever trod on neat's leather--barrin'
+one."
+
+"And who is that one?"
+
+"That one, sir--that one--do you ax me who that one is?"
+
+"Have you no ears? To be sure I do."
+
+"Then, Skinadre, I'll tell you--I'll tell you, sarra,"--we ought to add
+here, that Harte was a first-rate mimic, and was now doing a drunken
+man,--"I'll tell you, sarra--that person was Nelson on the top of the
+monument in Sackville street--no--no--I'm wrong; I could make poor ould
+Horace drunk any time, an' often did--an' many a turn-tumble he got off
+the monument at night, and the divil's own throuble I had in gettin' him
+up on it before mornin', bekaise you all know he'd be cashiered, or, any
+way, brought to coort martial for leavin' his po-po-post."
+
+"Well, if Nelson's not the man, who is?"
+
+"_Drywig's_ his name," replied Harte; "you all know one _Drywig_, don't
+you?"
+
+"Quit your cursed stuff, Harte," said a new speaker, named Garvey; "if
+you think you can dose him, say so, and if not, let us have no more talk
+about it."
+
+"Faith, an' it'll be a nice card to play," replied Harte, resuming his
+natural voice; "but at all events, if you will all drop into Garvey's
+lodgins and mine, to-morrow evenin', you may find him there; but don't
+blame me if I fail."
+
+"No one's goin' to blame you," said Slanty, "an' the devil's own pity it
+is that that blasted _Drywig_ of a brother of his keeps him in leadin'
+strings the way he does."
+
+"The way I'll do is this: I'll ask him up to look at the pattern of my
+new waistcoat, an' wanst I get him in, all I have to do is to lay it on
+thick."
+
+"I doubt that," said another, who had joined them; "when he came here
+first, and for a long time afther, soapin' him might do; but I tell you
+his eye's open--it's no go--he's wide awake now."
+
+"Shut your orifice," said Harte; "lave the thing to me; 'twas I did it
+before, although he doesn't think so, an' it's I that will do it again,
+although he doesn't think so. Haven't I been for the last mortal month
+guardin' him aginst yez, you villains?"
+
+"To-morrow evenin'?"
+
+"Ay, to-morrow evenin'; an' if we don't give him a gauliogue that'll
+make him dance the circumbendibus widout music--never believe that my
+name's any thing else than Tom Thin, that got thick upon spring wather.
+Hello! there's the bell, boys, so mind what I tould yez; we'll give him
+a farewell benefit, if it was only for the sake of poor _Drywig_. Ah,
+poor _Drywig!_ how will he live widout him? Ochone, ochone! ha, ha, ha!"
+
+Without at all suspecting the trap that had been set for him, Art
+attended his business as usual, till towards evening, when Harte took an
+opportunity, when he got him for a few minutes by himself, of speaking
+to him apparently in a careless and indifferent way.
+
+"Art, that's a nate patthern in your waistcoat; but any how, I dunna
+how it is that you contrive to have every thing about you dacenter an'
+jinteeler than another." This, by the way, was true, both of him and his
+brother.
+
+"Tut, it's but middlin'," said Art; "it's now but a has-been:--when it
+was at itself it wasn't so bad."
+
+"Begad, it was lovely wanst; now; how do you account, Art, for bein'
+supairior to us in all in--in every thing, I may say; ay, begad, in
+every thing, and in all things, for that's a point every one allows."
+
+"Nonsense, Syl" (his name was Sylvester), "don't be comin' it soft over
+me; how am I betther than any other?"
+
+"Why, you're betther made, in the first place, than e'er a man among
+us; in the next place, you're a betther workman;"--both these were
+true--"an', in the third place, you're the best lookin' of the whole
+pack; an' now deny these if you can:--eh, ha, ha, ha--my lad, I have
+you!"
+
+An involuntary smile might be observed on Art's face at the last
+observation, which also was true.
+
+"Syl," he replied, "behave yourself; what are you at now? I know you."
+
+"Know me!" exclaimed Syl; "why what do you know of me? Nothing that's
+bad I hope, any way."
+
+"None of your palaver, at all events," replied Art; "have you got any
+tobaccy about you?"
+
+"Sorra taste," replied Harte, "nor had since mornin'."
+
+"Well, I have then," said Art, pulling out a piece, and throwing it to
+him with the air of a superior; "warm your gums wid that, for altho' I
+seldom take a blast myself, I don't forget them that do."
+
+"Ah, begorra," said Harte, in an undertone that was designed to be
+heard, "there's something in the ould blood still; thank you, Art, faix
+it's yourself that hasn't your heart in a trifle, nor ever had. I bought
+a waistcoat on Saturday last from Paddy M'Gartland, but I only tuck it
+on the condition of your likin' it."
+
+"Me! ha, ha, ha, well, sure enough, Syl, you're the quarest fellow
+alive; why, man, isn't it yourself you have to plaise, not me."
+
+"No matther for that, I'm not goin' to put my judgment in comparishment
+wid yours, at any rate; an' Paddy M'Gartland himself said, 'Syl, my boy,
+you know what you're about; if this patthern plaises Art Maguire, it'll
+plaise anybody; see what it is,' says he, 'to have the fine high ould
+blood in one's veins.' Begad he did; will you come up this evenin' about
+seven o'clock, now, like a good fellow, an' pass your opinion for me?
+Divil a dacent stitch I have, an' I want either it, or another, made up
+before the ball night."*
+
+     * Country dances, or balls, in which the young men pay
+     from ten to fifteen pence for whiskey "to trate the
+     ladies." We hope they will be abolished.
+
+"Well, upon my soundhers, Syl, I did not think you were such a fool; of
+coorse I'll pass my opinion on it--about seven o'clock, you say."
+
+"About seven--thank you, Art; an' now listen;--sure the boys intind to
+play off some prank upon you afore you lave us."
+
+"On me," replied the other, reddening; "very well, Syl, let them do
+so; I can bear a joke, or give a blow, as well as another; so divil may
+care, such as they give, such as they'll get--only this, let there be
+no attempt to make me drink whiskey, or else there may be harder hittin'
+than some o' them 'ud like, an' I think they ought to know that by this
+time."
+
+"By jing, they surely ought; well, but can you spell mum?"
+
+"M-u-m."
+
+"Ha, ha, ha, take care of yourself, an' don't forget seven."
+
+"Never fear."
+
+"Frank," said Art, "I'm goin' up to Syl Harte's lodgin's to pass my
+opinion on the patthern of a waistcoat for him."
+
+"Very well," said Frank, "of coorse."
+
+"I'll not stop long."
+
+"As long or short as you like, Art, my boy."
+
+"I hope, Frank, you don't imagine that there's any danger of drink?"
+
+"Who, me--why should I, afther what passed? Didn't you give me your
+word, and isn't your name Maguire? Not I."
+
+Art had seen, and approved of the pattern, and was chatting with Syl,
+when a knock came to the room door in which they sat; Syl rose, and
+opening the door, immediately closed it after him, and began in a low
+voice to remonstrate with some persons outside. At length Art could hear
+the subject of debate pretty well--
+
+"Sorra foot yez will put inside the room this evenin', above all
+evenin's in the year."
+
+"Why, sure we know he won't drink. I wish to goodness we knew he had
+been here; we wouldn't ax him to drink, bekase we know he wouldn't.
+
+"No matther for that, sorrow foot yez'll put acrass the thrashel this
+evenin'; now, I'll toll you what, Skinadre, I wouldn't this blessed
+minute, for all I've earned these six months, that ye came this
+evenin';--I have my raisons for it; Art Maguire is a boy that we have no
+right to compare ourselves wid--you all know that."
+
+"We all know it, and there's nobody denyin' it; we haven't the blood in
+our veins that he has, an' blood will show itself anywhere."
+
+"Well then, boys, for his sake--an' I know you'd do any day for his sake
+what you wouldn't, nor what you oughtn't, for mine--for his sake, I say,
+go off wid yez, and bring your liquor somewhere else, or sure wait till
+to-morrow evenin'."
+
+"Out of respect for Art Maguire we'll go; an' divil another boy in the
+province we'd pay that respect to; good-evenin', Syl!"
+
+"Aisy, boys," said Art, coming to the door, "don't let me frighten
+you--come in--I'd be very sorry to be the means of spoilin' sport,
+although I can't drink myself; that wouldn't be generous--come in."
+
+"Augh," said Skinadre, "by the livin' it's in him, an' I always knew it
+was--the rale drop."
+
+"Boys," said Harte, "go off wid yez out o' this, I say; divil a foot
+you'll come in."
+
+"Arra go to--Jimmaiky; who cares about you, Syl, when we have Art's
+liberty? Sure we didn't know the thing ourselves half an hour ago."
+
+"Come, Syl, man alive," said Art, "let the poor fellows enjoy their
+liquor, an', as I can't join yez, I'll take my hat an' be off."
+
+"I knew it, an' bad luck to yez, how yez 'ud drive him away," said Syl,
+quite angry.
+
+"Faix, if we disturb you, Art, we're off--that 'ud be too bad; yes, Syl,
+you were right, it was very thoughtless of us: Art, we ax your pardon,
+sorra one of us meant you any offence in life--come, boys."
+
+Art's generosity was thus fairly challenged, and he was not to be
+outdone--
+
+"Aisy, boys," said he; "sit down; I'll not go, if that'll plaise yez;
+sure you'll neither eat me nor dhrink me."
+
+"Well, there's jist one word you said, Slanty, that makes me submit to
+it," observed Harte, "an' that is, that it was accident your comin' at
+all;" he here looked significantly at Art, as if to remind him of their
+previous conversation on that day, and as he did it, his face gradually
+assumed a complacent expression, as much as to say, it's now clear that
+this cannot be the trap they designed for you, otherwise it wouldn't be
+accidental. Art understood him, and returned a look which satisfied the
+other that he did so.
+
+As they warmed in their liquor, or pretended to get warm, many sly
+attempts to entrap him were made, every one of which was openly and
+indignantly opposed by Harte, who would not suffer them to offer him a
+drop.
+
+It is not our intention to dwell upon these matters: at present it is
+sufficient to say, that after a considerable part of the evening had
+been spent, Harte rose up, and called upon them all to fill their
+glasses--
+
+"And," he added, "as this is a toast that ought always to bring a full
+glass to the mouth, and an empty one from it, I must take the liberty of
+axin Art himself to fill a bumper."
+
+The latter looked at him with a good deal of real surprise, as the
+others did with that which was of a very different description.
+
+"Skinadre," proceeded Harte, "will you hand over the cowld wather, for
+a bumper it must be, if it was vitriol." He then filled Art's glass with
+water, and proceeded--"Stand up, boys, and be proud, as you have a
+right to be; here's the health of Frank Maguire, and the ould blood of
+Ireland!--hip, hip, hurra!"
+
+"Aisy, boys," said Art, whose heart was fired by this unexpected
+compliment, paid to a brother whom he loved so well, and who, indeed,
+so well, deserved his love; "aisy, boys," he proceeded, "hand me the
+whiskey; if it was to be my last, I'll never drink my brother's health
+in cowld wather."
+
+"Throth an' you will this time," said Harte, "undher this roof spirits
+won't crass; your lips, an' you know for why."
+
+"I know but one thing," replied Art, "that as you said yourself, if it
+was vitriol, I'd dhrink it for the best brother that ever lived; I only
+promised him that I wouldn't get dhrunk, an' sure, drinkin' a glass o'
+whiskey, or three either, wouldn't make me dhrunk--so hand it here."
+
+"Well, Art," said Harte, "there's one man you can't blame for this, and
+that is Syl Harte."
+
+"No, Syl, never--but now, boys, I am ready."
+
+"Frank Maguire's health! hip, hip, hurra!"
+
+Thus was a fine, generous-minded, and affectionate young man--who
+possessed all the candor and absence of suspicion which characterize
+truth--tempted and triumphed over, partly through the very warmth of
+his own affections, by a set of low, cunning profligates, who felt only
+anxious to drag him down from the moral superiority which they felt
+he possessed. That he was vain, and fond of praise, they knew, and our
+readers may also perceive that it was that unfortunate vanity which
+gave them the first advantage over him, by bringing him, through its
+influence, among them. Late that night he was carried home on a door, in
+a state of unconscious intoxication.
+
+It is utterly beyond our power to describe the harrowing state of
+his sensations on awakening the next morning. Abasement, repentance,
+remorse, all combined as they were within him, fall far short of what
+he felt; he was degraded in his own eyes, deprived of self-respect, and
+stripped of every claim to the confidence of his brother, as he was
+to the well-known character for integrity which had been until then
+inseparable from the name. That, however, which pressed upon him with
+the most intense bitterness was the appalling reflection that he could
+no longer depend upon himself, nor put any trust in his own resolutions.
+Of what use was he in the world without a will of his own, and the power
+of abiding by its decisions? None; yet what was to be done? He could not
+live out of the world, and wherever he went, its temptations would beset
+him. Then there was his beloved Margaret Murray! was he to make her the
+wife of a common drunkard? or did she suspect, when she pledged herself
+to him, that she was giving away her heart and affections to a poor
+unmanly sot, who had not sense or firmness to keep himself sober? He
+felt in a state between distraction and despair, and putting his hands
+over his face, he wept bitterly. To complete the picture, his veins
+still throbbed with the dry fever that follows intoxication, his stomach
+was in a state of deadly sickness and loathing, and his head felt
+exactly as if it would burst or fly asunder.
+
+Alas! had his natural character been properly understood and judiciously
+managed; had he been early taught to understand and to control his
+own obvious errors; had the necessity of self-reliance, firmness, and
+independence been taught him; had his principles not been enfeebled
+by the foolish praise of his family, nor his vanity inflated by their
+senseless appeals to it--it is possible, nay, almost certain, that he
+would, even at this stage of his life, have been completely free
+from the failings which are beginning even now to undermine the whole
+strength of his moral constitution.
+
+Frank's interview with him on this occasion was short but significant--
+
+"Art," said he, "you know I never was a man of many words; and I'm
+not goin' to turn over a new lafe now. To scould you is not my
+intention--nor to listen to your promises. All I have to say is, that
+you have broken your word, and disgraced your name. As for me, I can put
+neither confidence nor trust in you any longer; neither will I."
+
+A single tear was visible on his cheek as he passed out of the room;
+and when he did, Art's violent sobs were quite audible. Indeed, if truth
+must be told, Frank's distress was nearly equal to his brother's.
+What, however, was to be done? He was too ill to attend his business,
+a circumstance which only heightened his distress; for he knew that
+difficult as was the task of encountering his master, and those who
+would only enjoy his remorse, still even that was less difficult to
+be borne than the scourge of his own reflections. At length a thought
+occurred, which appeared to give him some relief; that thought he felt
+was all that now remained to him, for as it was clear that he could no
+longer depend on himself, it was necessary that he should find something
+else on which to depend. He accordingly sent an intimation to his master
+that he wished to have a few minutes' conversation with him, if he could
+spare time; M'Carroll accordingly came, and found him in a state which
+excited the worthy man's compassion.
+
+"Well, Art," said he, "what is it you wish to speak to me about? I hear
+you were drunk last night. Now I thought you had more sense than to let
+these fellows put you into such a pickle. I have a fine, well-conducted
+set of men in general; but there is among them a hardened, hackneyed
+crew, who, because they are good workmen, don't care a curse about
+either you or me, or anybody else. They're always sure of employment, if
+not here, at least elsewhere, or, indeed, anywhere."
+
+"But it wasn't their fault," replied Art, "it was altogether my own;
+they were opposed to my drinkin' at all, especially as they knew that I
+promised Frank never to get drunk agin. It was when Syl Harte proposed
+Frank's health, that I drank the whiskey in spite o' them."
+
+"Syl Harte," said his master with a smile, "ay, I was thinkin' so; well,
+no matter, Art, have strength and resolution not to do the like again."
+
+"But that's the curse, sir," replied the young man, "I have neither the
+one nor the other, and it's on that account I sent for you."
+
+"How is that, Art?"
+
+"Why," said the other, "I am goin' to bind myself--I am goin' to swear
+against it, and so to make short work of it, and for fraid any one might
+prevent me"--he blessed himself, and proceeded--"I now, in the presence
+of God, swear upon this blessed manwil (* Manual) that a drop of
+spirituous drink, or liquor of any kind, won't cross my lips for the
+next seven years, barrin' it may be necessary as medicine;" he then
+kissed the book three times, blessed himself again, and sat down
+considerably relieved.
+
+"Now," he added, "you may tell them what I've done; that's seven years'
+freedom, thank God; for I wouldn't be the slave of whiskey--the greatest
+of tyrants--for the wealth of Europe."
+
+"No, but the worst of it is, Art," replied his m ister, who was an
+exceedingly shrewd man, "that whiskey makes a man his own tyrant and
+his own slave, both at the same time, and that's more than the greatest
+tyrant that ever lived did yet. As for yourself, you're not fit to work
+any this day, so I think you ought to take a stretch across the country,
+and walk off the consequence of your debauch with these fellows last
+night."
+
+Art now felt confidence and relief; he had obtained the very precise aid
+of which he stood in need. The danger was now over, and a prop placed
+under his own feeble resolution, on which he could depend with safety;
+here there could be no tampering with temptation; the matter was clear,
+explicit, and decisive: so far all was right, and, as we have said, his
+conscience felt relieved of a weighty burden.
+
+His brother, on hearing it from his own lips, said little, yet that
+little was not to discourage him; he rather approved than otherwise, but
+avoided expressing any very decided opinion on it, one way or the other.
+
+"It's a pity," said he, "that want of common resolution should drive
+a man to take an oath; if you had tried your own strength, a little
+farther, Art, who knows but you might a' gained a victory without it,
+and that would be more creditable and manly than swearin'; still, the
+temptation to drink is great to some people, and this prevents all
+possibility of fallin' into it."
+
+Art, who, never having dealt in any thing disingenuous himself, was slow
+to credit duplicity in others, did not once suspect that the profligates
+had played him off this trick, rather to annoy the brother than himself.
+It was, after all, nothing but the discreditable triumph of cunning and
+debased minds, over the inexperience, or vanity, if you will, of one,
+who, whatever his foibles might be, would himself scorn to take an
+ungenerous advantage of confidence reposed in him in consequence of his
+good opinion and friendly feeling.
+
+The period of their apprenticeship, however, elapsed, and the day at
+length arrived for their departure from the Corner House. Their master,
+and, we may add, their friend, solicited them to stop with him still as
+journeymen; but, as each had a different object in view, they declined
+it. Art proposed to set up for himself, for it was indeed but natural
+that one whose affections had been now so long engaged, should wish,
+with as little delay as possible, to see himself possessed of a home
+to which he might bring his betrothed wife. Frank had not trusted to
+chance, or relied merely upon vague projects, like his brother; for,
+some time previous to the close of his apprenticeship, he had been
+quietly negotiating the formation of a partnership with a carpenter who
+wanted a steady man at the helm. The man had capital himself, and
+was clever enough in his way, but then he was illiterate, and utterly
+without method in conducting his affairs; Frank was therefore the
+identical description of person he stood in need of, and, as the
+integrity of his family was well known--that integrity which they
+felt so anxious to preserve without speck--there was of course little
+obstruction in the way of their coming to terms.
+
+On the morning of the day on which they left his establishment,
+M'Carroll came into the workshop while they were about bidding farewell
+to their companions, with whom they had lived--abating the three or four
+pranks that were played off upon Art--on good and friendly terms, and
+seeing that they were about to take their departure, he addressed them
+as follows:--
+
+"I need not say," he proceeded, "that I regret you are leaving me; which
+I do, for, without meaning any disrespect to those present, I am bound
+to acknowledge that two better workmen, or two honester young men, were
+never in my employment. Art, indeed is unsurpassed, considering his
+time, and that he is only closing his apprenticeship: 'tis true, he has
+had good opportunities--opportunities which, I am happy to say, he has
+never neglected. I am in the habit, as you both know, of addressing
+a few words of advice to my young men at the close of their
+apprenticeships, and when they are entering upon the world as you are
+now. I will therefore lay down a few simple rules for your guidance,
+and, perhaps, by following them, you will find yourselves neither the
+worse nor the poorer men.
+
+"Let the first principle then of your life, both as mechanics, and men,
+be truth--truth in all you think, in all you say, and in all you do; if
+this should fail to procure you the approbation of the world, it will
+not fail to procure you your own, and, what is better, that of God. Let
+your next principle be industry--honest, fair, legitimate industry, to
+which you ought to annex punctuality--for industry without
+punctuality is but half a virtue. Let your third great principle be
+sobriety--strict and undeviating sobriety; a mechanic without sobriety,
+so far from being a benefit or an ornament to society, as he ought to
+be, is a curse and a disgrace to it; within the limits of sobriety all
+the rational enjoyments of life are comprised, and without them are
+to be found all those which desolate society with crime, indigence,
+sickness, and death. In maintaining sobriety in the world, and
+especially among persons of your own class, you will certainly have much
+to contend with; remember that firmness of character, when acting upon
+right feeling and good sense, will enable you to maintain and work out
+every virtuous and laudable purpose which you propose to effect. Do not,
+therefore, suffer yourselves to be shamed from sobriety, or, indeed,
+from any other moral duty, by the force of ridicule; neither, on the
+other hand, must you be seduced into it by flattery, or the transient
+gratification of social enjoyment. I have, in fact, little further to
+add; you are now about to become members of society, and to assume
+more distinctly the duties which it imposes on you. Discharge them all
+faithfully--do not break your words, but keep your promises, and respect
+yourselves, remember that self-respect is a very different thing
+from pride, or an empty overweening vanity--self-respect is, in fact,
+altogether incompatible with them, as they are with it; like opposite
+qualities, they cannot abide in the same individual. Let me impress
+it on you, that these are the principles by which you must honorably
+succeed in life, if you do succeed; while by neglecting them, you must
+assuredly fail. 'Tis true, knavery and dishonesty are often successful,
+but it is by the exercise of fraudulent practices, which I am
+certain you will never think of carrying into the business of life--I
+consequently dismiss this point altogether, as unsuitable to either
+of you. I have only to add, now, that I hope most sincerely you will
+observe the few simple truths I have laid down to you; and I trust, that
+ere many years pass, I may live to see you both respectable, useful,
+and independent members of society. Farewell, and may you be all we wish
+you!"
+
+Whether this little code of useful doctrine was equally observed by
+both, will appear in the course of our narrative.
+
+About a month or so before the departure of Frank and Art from the
+Corner House, Jemmy Murray and another man were one day in the beginning
+of May strolling through one of his pasture-fields. His companion was
+a thin, hard-visaged little fellow, with a triangular face, and dry
+bristly hair, very much the color of, and nearly as prickly as, a
+withered furze bush; both, indeed, were congenial spirits, for it is
+only necessary to say, that he of the furze bush was another of those
+charital and generous individuals whose great delight consisted, like
+his friend Murray, in watching the seasons, and speculating upon the
+failure of the crops. He had the reputation of being wealthy, and
+in fact was so; indeed, of the two, those who had reason to know,
+considered that he held the weightier purse; his name was Cooney
+Finigan, and the object of his visit to Murray--their conversation,
+however, will sufficiently develop that. Both, we should observe,
+appeared to be exceedingly blank and solemn; Cooney's hard face, as he
+cast his eye about him, would have made one imagine that he had just
+buried the last of his family, and Murray looked as if he had a son
+about to be hanged. The whole cause of this was simply that a finer
+season, nor one giving ampler promise of abundance, had not come within
+the memory of man.
+
+"Ah!" said Murray, with a sigh, "look, Cooney, at the distressin' growth
+of grass that's there--a foot high if it's an inch! If God hasn't sed
+it, there will be the largest and heaviest crops that ever was seen in
+the country; heigho!"
+
+"Well, but one can't have good luck always," replied Cooney; "only it's
+the wondherful forwardness of the whate that's distressin' me."
+
+"An' do you think that I'm sufferin' nothin' on that account?" asked
+his companion; "only you haven't three big stacks of hay waitin' for a
+failure, as I have."
+
+"That's bekase I have no meadow on my farm," replied Cooney; "otherwise
+I would be in the hay trade as well as yourself."
+
+"Well, God help us, Cooney! every one has their misfortunes as well as
+you and I; sure enough, it's a bitther business to see how every thing's
+thrivin'--hay, oats, and whate! why they'll be for a song: may I never
+get a bad shillin', but the poor 'ill be paid for takin' them! that's
+the bitther pass things will come to; maurone ok! but it's a black
+lookout!"
+
+"An' this rain, too," said Cooney, "so soft, and even, and small, and
+warm, that it's playin' the very devil. Nothin' could stand it. Why it
+ud make a rotten twig grow if it was put into the ground."
+
+"Divil a one o' me would like to make the third," said Murray, "for
+'fraid I might have the misfortune to succeed. Death alive! Only think
+of my four arks, of meal, an' my three stacks of hay, an' divil a pile
+to come out of them for another twelve months!"
+
+"It's bad, too bad, I allow," said the other; "still let us not despair,
+man alive; who knows but the saison may change for the worse yet.
+Whish!" he exclaimed, slapping the side of his thigh, "hould up your
+head, Jemmy, I have thought of it; I have thought of it."
+
+"You have thought of what, Cooney?"
+
+"Why, death alive, man, sure there's plenty of time, God be praised for
+it, for the--murdher, why didn't we think of it before? ha, ha, ha!"
+
+"For the what, man? don't keep us longin' for it."
+
+"Why for the pratie crops to fail still; sure it's only the beginning
+o' May now, and who knows but we might have the happiness to see a right
+good general failure of the praties still? Eh? ha, ha, ha!"
+
+"Upon my sounds, Cooney, you have taken a good deal of weight off of me.
+Faith we have the lookout of a bad potato crop yet, sure enough. How is
+the wind? Don't you think you feel a little dry bitin' in it, as if it
+came from the aist?"
+
+"Why, then, in regard of the dead calm that's in it, I can't exactly
+say--but, let me see--you're right, divil a doubt of it; faith it is,
+sure enough; bravo, Jemmy, who knows but all may go wrong wid the crops
+yet."
+
+"At all events, let us have a glass on the head of it, and we'll drink
+to the failure of the potato craps, and God prosper the aist wind, for
+it's the best for you an' me, Cooney, that's goin'. Come up to the house
+above, and we'll have a glass on the head of it."
+
+The fastidious reader may doubt whether any two men, no matter how
+griping or rapacious, could prevail upon themselves to express to each
+other sentiments so openly inimical to all human sympathy. In holding
+this dialogue, however, the men were only thinking aloud, and giving
+utterance to the wishes which every inhuman knave of their kind feels.
+In compliance, however, with the objections which maybe brought against
+the probability of the above dialogue, we will now give the one which
+did actually occur, and then appeal to our readers whether the first is
+not much more in keeping with the character of the speakers--which ought
+always to be a writer's great object--than the second. Now, the reader
+already knows that each of these men had three or four large arks of
+meal laid past until the arrival of a failure in the crops and a season
+of famine, and that Murray had three large stacks of hay in the hope of
+a similar failure in the meadow crop.
+
+"Good-morrow, Jemmy."
+
+"Good-morrow kindly, Cooney; isn't this a fine saison, the Lord be
+praised!"
+
+"A glorious saison, blessed be His name! I don't think ever I remimber a
+finer promise of the craps."
+
+"Throth, nor I, the meadows is a miracle to look at."
+
+"Divil a thing else--but the white, an' oats, an' early potatoes, beat
+anything ever was seen."
+
+"Throth, the poor will have them for a song, Jemmy."
+
+"Ay, or for less, Cooney; they'll be paid for takin' them."
+
+"It's enough to raise one's heart, Jemmy, just to think of it."
+
+"Why then it is that, an', for the same raison, come up to the house
+above, and we'll have a sup on the head of it; sure, it's no harm to
+drink success to the craps, and may God prevent a failure, any how."
+
+"Divil a bit."
+
+Now, we simply ask the reader which dialogue is in the more appropriate
+keeping with the characters of honest, candid Jemmy and Cooney?
+
+"And now," proceeded Cooney, "regard-in' this match between your
+youngest daughter Margaret, and my son Toal."
+
+"Why, as for myself," replied Murray, "sorra much of objection I have
+aginst it, barrin' his figure; if he was about a foot and a half
+higher, and a little betther made--God pardon me, an' blessed be the
+maker--there would, at all events, be less difficulty in the business,
+especially with Peggy herself."
+
+"But couldn't you bring her about?"
+
+"I did my endayvors, Cooney; you may take my word I did."
+
+"Well, an' is she not softenin' at all?"
+
+"Upon my sounds, Cooney, I cannot say she is. If I could only get her to
+spake one sairious word on the subject, I might have some chance; but I
+cannot, Cooney; I think both you an' little Toal had betther give it up.
+I doubt there's no chance."
+
+"Faith an' the more will be her loss. I tell you, Jemmy, that he'd outdo
+either you or me as a meal man. What more would you want?"
+
+"He's cute enough, I know that."
+
+"I tell you you don't know the half of it. It's the man that can make
+the money for her that you want."
+
+"But aginst that, you know, it's Peggy an' not me that's to marry him.
+Now, you know that women often--though not always, I grant--wish to
+have something in the appearance of their husband that they needn't be
+ashamed to look at."
+
+"That's the only objection that can bo brought against him. He's the boy
+can make the money; I'm a fool to him. I'll tell you what, Jemmy Murray,
+may I never go home, but he'd skin a flint. Did you hear anything? Now!"
+
+Murray, who appeared to be getting somewhat tired of this topic, replied
+rather hastily--
+
+"Why, Cooney Finnigan, if he could skin the devil himself and ait him
+afterwards, she wouldn't have him. She has refused some of the best
+looking young men in the parish, widout either rhyme or raison, an' I'm
+sure she's not goin' to take your leprechaun of a son, that you might
+run a five-gallon keg between his knees. Sure, bad luck to the thing his
+legs resemble but a pair of raipin' hooks, wid their backs outwards. Let
+us pass this subject, and come in till we drink a glass together."
+
+"And so you call my son a leprechaun, and he has legs like raipin'
+hooks!"
+
+"Ha, ha, ha! Come in, man alive; never mind little Toal."
+
+"Like raipin' hooks! I'll tell you what, Jemmy, I say now in sincerity,
+that there is every prospect of a plentiful sayson; and that there may,
+I pray God this day; meadows an' all--O above all, the meadows, for I'm
+not in the hay business myself."
+
+"So," said Murray, laughing, "you would cut off your nose to vex your
+face."
+
+"I would any day, even if should suffer myself by it; and now good-bye,
+Jemmy Murray, to the dioual I pitch the whole thing! Rapin' hooks!"
+And as he spoke, off went the furious little extortioner, irretrievably
+offended.
+
+The subject of Margaret's marriage, however, was on that precise period
+one on which her father and friends had felt and expressed much concern.
+Many proposals had been made for her hand during Art's apprenticeship;
+but each and all not only without success, but without either hope or
+encouragement. Her family were surprised and grieved at this, and the
+more so, because they could not divine the cause of it. Upon the subject
+of her attachment to Maguire, she not only preserved an inviolable
+silence herself, but exacted a solemn promise from her lover that he
+should not disclose it to any human being. Her motive, she said, for
+keeping their affection and engagement to each other secret, was to
+avoid being harassed at home by her friends and family, who, being once
+aware of the relation in which she stood towards Art, would naturally
+give her little peace. She knew very well that her relations would not
+consent to such a union, and, in point of mere prudence and forethought,
+her conduct was right, for she certainly avoided much intemperate
+remonstrance, as afterwards proved to be the case when she mentioned it.
+Her father on this occasion having amused them at home by relating the
+tift which had taken place between Cooney Finnigan and himself, which
+was received with abundant mirth by them all, especially by Margaret,
+seriously introduced the subject of her marriage, and of a recent
+proposal which had been made to her.
+
+"You are the only unmarried girl we have left now," he said, "and surely
+you ought neither to be too proud nor too saucy to refuse such a match
+as Mark Hanratty--a young man in as thrivin' a business as there is in
+all Ballykeerin; hasn't he a good shop, good business, and a good back
+of friends in the country that will stand to him, an' only see how he
+has thruv these last couple o' years. What's come over you at all? or do
+you ever intend to marry? you have refused every one for so far widout
+either rhyme or raison. Why, Peggy, what father's timper could stand
+this work?"
+
+"Ha, ha, ha! like raipin' hooks, father--an' so the little red rogue
+couldn't bear that? well, at all events, the comparison's a good
+one--sorra better; ha, ha, ha--reapin' hooks!"
+
+"Is that the answer you have for me?"
+
+"Answer!" said Margaret, feigning surprise, "what about?"
+
+"About Mark Hanmity."
+
+"Well, but sure if he's fond of me, hell have no objection to wait."
+
+"Ay, but if he does wait, will you have him?"
+
+"I didn't promise that, and, at any rate, I'd not like to be a
+shopkeeper's wife."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Why, he'd be puttin' me behind the counter, and you know I'd be too
+handsome for that; sure, there's Thogue Nugent that got the handsome
+wife from Dublin, and of a fair, or market-day, for one that goes in to
+buy anything, there goes ten in to look at her. Throth, I think he ought
+to put her in the windy at once, just to save trouble, and give the
+people room."
+
+"Ha, ha, ha! well, you're the dickens of a girl, sure enough; but come,
+avourneen, don't be makin' me laugh now, but tell me what answer I'm to
+give Mark."
+
+"Tell him to go to Dublin, like Thogue; he lives in the upper part of
+the town, and Thogue in the lower, and then there will be a beauty in
+each end of it."
+
+"Suppose I take it into my head to lose my temper, Peggy, maybe I'd make
+you spake then?"
+
+"Well, will you give me a peck o' mail for widow Dolan?"
+
+"No, divil a dust."
+
+"Sure I'll pay you--ha, ha, ha!"
+
+"Sure you'll pay me! mavrone, but it's often you've said that afore,
+and divil a cross o' Your coin ever we seen yet; faith, it's you that's
+heavily in my debt, when I think of all ever you promised to pay me."
+
+"Very well, then; no meal, no answer."
+
+"And will you give me an answer if I give you the meal?"
+
+"Honor bright, didn't I say it."
+
+"Go an' get it yourself then, an' see now, don't do as you always do,
+take double what you're allowed."
+
+Margiret, in direct violation of this paternal injunction, did most
+unquestionably take near twice the stipulated quantity for the widow,
+and, in order that there might be no countermand on the part of her
+father, as sometimes happened, she sent it off with one of the servants
+by a back way, so that he had no opportunity of seeing how far
+her charity had carried her beyond the spirit and letter of her
+instructions.
+
+"Well," said he, when she returned, "now for the answer; and before you
+give it, think of the comfort you'll have with him--how fine and nicely
+furnished his house is--he has carpets upon the rooms, ay, an' upon my
+sounds, on the very stairs itself! faix it's you that will be in state.
+Now, acushla, let us hear your answer."
+
+"It's very short, father; I won't have him."
+
+"Won't have him! and in the name of all that's unbiddable and undutiful,
+who will you have, if one may ax that, or do you intend, to have any one
+at all, or not?"
+
+"Let me see," she said, putting the side of her forefinger to her lips,
+"what day is this? Thursday. Well, then, on this day month, father, I'll
+tell my mother who I'll have, or, at any rate, who I'd wish to have;
+but, in the mean time, nobody need ask me anything further about it till
+then, for I won't give any other information on the subject."
+
+The father looked very seriously into the fire for a considerable time,
+and was silent; he then drew his breath lengthily, tapped the table a
+little with his fingers, and exclaimed--"A month! well, the time will
+pass, and, as we must wait, why we must, that's all."
+
+Matters lay in this state until the third day before the expiration
+of the appointed time, when Margaret, having received from Art secret
+intelligence of his return, hastened to a spot agreed upon between them,
+that they might consult each other upon what ought to be done under
+circumstances so critical.
+
+After the usual preface to such tender discussions, Art listened with
+a good deal of anxiety, but without the slightest doubt of her firmness
+and attachment, to an account of the promise she had given her father.
+
+"Well, but, Margaret darlin'," said he, "what will happen if they
+refuse?"
+
+"Surely, you know it is too late for them to refuse now; arn't we as
+good as married--didn't we pass the Hand Promise--isn't our troth
+plighted?"
+
+"I know that, but suppose they should still refuse, then what's to be
+done? what are you and I to do?"
+
+"I must lave that to you, Art," she replied archly.
+
+"And it couldn't be in better hands, Margaret; if they refuse their
+consent, there's nothing for it but a regular runaway, and that will
+settle it."
+
+"You must think I'm very fond of you," she added playfully, "and I
+suppose you do, too."
+
+"Margaret," said Art, and his face became instantly overshadowed with
+seriousness and care, "the day may come when I'll feel how necessary you
+will be to guide and support me."
+
+She looked quickly into his eyes, and saw that his mind appeared
+disturbed and gloomy.
+
+"My dear Art," she asked, "what is the meaning of your words, and why is
+there such sadness in your face?"
+
+"There ought not to be sadness in it," he said, "when I'm sure of
+you--you will be my guardian angel may be yet."
+
+"Art, have you any particular meanin' in what you say?"
+
+"I'll tell you all," said he, "when we are married."
+
+Margaret was generous-minded, and, as the reader may yet acknowledge,
+heroic; there was all the boldness and bravery of innocence about her,
+and she could scarcely help attributing Art's last words to some fact
+connected with his feelings, or, perhaps, to circumstances which his
+generosity prevented him from disclosing. A thought struck her--
+
+"Art," said she, "the sooner this is settled the better; as it is, if
+you'll be guided by me, we won't let the sun set upon it; walk up with
+me to my father's house, come in, and in the name of God, we'll leave
+nothing unknown to him. He is a hard man, but he has a heart, and he is
+better a thousand times than he is reported. I know it."
+
+"Come," said Art, "let us go; he may be richer, but there's the blood,
+and the honesty, and good name of the Maguires against his wealth--"
+
+A gentle pressure on his arm, when he mentioned the word wealth, and he
+was silent.
+
+"My darlin' Margaret," said he, "oh how unworthy I am of you!"
+
+"Now," said she, "lave me to manage this business my own way. Your good
+sense will tell you when to spake; but whatever my father says, trate
+him with respect--lave the rest to me."
+
+On entering, they found Murray and his wife in the little parlor--the
+former smoking his pipe, and the latter darning a pair of stockings.
+
+"Father," said Margaret, "Art Maguire convoyed me home; but, indeed, I
+must say, I was forced to ask him."
+
+"Art Maguire. Why, then, upon my sounds, Art, I'm glad to see you. An'
+how are you, man alive? an' how is Frank, eh? As grave as a jidge, as
+he always was--ha, ha, ha! Take a chair, Art, and be sittin'. Peggy,
+gluntha me, remimber, you must have Art at your weddin'. It's now widin
+three days of the time I'm to know who he is; and upon my sounds, I'm
+like a hen on a hot griddle till I hear it."
+
+"You're not within three days, father."
+
+"But I say I am, accordin' to your own countin'."
+
+"You're not within three hours, father;"--her face 'glowed, and her
+whole system became vivified with singular and startling energy as she
+spoke;--"no, you are not within three hours, father; not within three
+minutes, my dear father; for there stands the man," she said, pointing
+to Art. She gave three or four loud hysterical sobs, and then stood
+calm, looking not upon her father, but upon her lover; as much as to
+say, Is this love, or is it not?
+
+Her mother, who was a quiet, inoffensive creature, without any principle
+or opinion whatsoever at variance with those of her husband, rose upon
+hearing this announcement; but so ambiguous were her motions, that
+we question whether the most sagacious prophet of all antiquity could
+anticipate from them the slightest possible clue to her opinion. The
+husband, in fact, had not yet spoken, and until he had, the poor woman
+did not know her own mind. Under any circumstances, it was difficult
+exactly to comprehend her meaning. In fact, she could not speak three
+words of common English, having probably never made the experiment a
+dozen times in her life. Murray was struck for some time mute.
+
+"And is this the young man," said he, at length, "that has been the
+mains of preventin' you from being so well married often and often
+before now?"
+
+"No, indeed, father," she replied, "he was not the occasion of that; but
+I was. I am betrothed to him, as he is to me, for five years."
+
+"And," said her father, "my consent to that marriage you will never
+have; if you marry him, marry him, but you will marry him without my
+blessin'."
+
+"Jemmy Murray," said Art, whose pride of family was fast rising, "who am
+I, and who are you?"
+
+Margaret put her hand to his mouth, and said in a low voice--
+
+"Art, if you love me, leave it to my management."
+
+"Ho, Jemmy," said the mother, addressing her husband, "only put
+your ears to this! _Ho, dher manim_, this is that skamin' piece of
+_feasthealagh_ (* nonesense) they call _grah_ (*love). Ho, by my
+sowl, it shows what moseys they is to think that--what's this you call
+it?--low-lov-loaf, or whatsomever the devil it is, has to do wid makin'
+a young couple man and wife. Didn't I hate the ground you stud on when
+I was married upon you? but I had the _airighid_. Ho, faix, I had the
+shiners."
+
+"Divil a word o' lie in that, Madjey, asthore. You had the money, an'
+I got it, and wern't we as happy, or ten times happier, than if we had
+married for love?"
+
+"To be sartin we am; an' isn't we more unhappier now, nor if we had got
+married for loaf, glory be to godness!"
+
+"Father," said Margaret, anxious to put an end to this ludicrous debate,
+"this is the only man I will ever marry."
+
+"And by Him that made me," said her father, "you will never have my
+consent to that marriage, nor my blessin'."
+
+"Art," said she, "not one word. Here, in the presence of my father and
+mother, and in the presence of God himself, I say I will be your wife,
+and only yours."
+
+"And," said her father, "see whether a blessin' will attend a marriage
+where a child goes against the will of her parents."
+
+"I'm of age now to think and act for myself, father; an' you know this
+is the first thing I ever disobeyed you in, an' I hope it 'ill be the
+last. Am I goin' to marry one that's discreditable to have connected
+with our family? So far from that, it is the credit that is comin' to
+us. Is a respectable young man, without spot or stain on his name, with
+the good-will of all that know him, and a good trade--is such a person,
+father, so very high above us? Is one who has the blood of the great
+Fermanagh Maguires in his veins not good enough for your daughter,
+because you happen to have a few bits of metal that he has not? Father,
+you will give us your consent an' your blessin' too; but remember that
+whether you do, or whether you don't, I'll not break my vow; I'll marry
+him."
+
+"Margaret," said the father, in a calm, collected voice, "put both
+consent and blessin' out of the question; you will never have either
+from me."
+
+"Ho _dher a Ihora heena_," exclaimed the mother, "I'm the boy for one
+that will see the buckle crossed against them, or I'd die every day
+this twelve months upon the top and tail o' Knockmany, through wind an'
+weather. You darlin' scoundrel," she proceeded, addressing Art, in what
+she intended to be violent abuse--"God condemn your sowl to happiness,
+is I or am my husband to be whillebelewin' on your loaf? Eh, answer us
+that, if you're not able, like a man, as you is?"
+
+Margaret, whose humor and sense of the ludicrous were exceedingly
+strong, having seldom heard her mother so excited before, gave one arch
+look at Art, who, on the contrary, felt perfectly confounded at the
+woman's language, and in that look there was a kind of humorous entreaty
+that he would depart. She nodded towards the door, and Art, having shook
+hands with her, said--
+
+"Good-by, Jemmy Murray, I hope you'll change your mind still; your
+daughter never could got any one that loves her as I do, or that could
+treat her with more tendherness and affection."
+
+"Be off, you darlin' vagabone," said Mrs. Murray, "the heavens be your
+bed, you villain, why don't you stay where you is, an' not be malivogin
+an undacent family this way."
+
+"Art Maguire," replied Murray, "you heard my intention, and I'll never
+change it." Art then withdrew.
+
+Our readers may now anticipate the consequences of the preceding
+conversation. Murray and his wife having persisted in their refusal to
+sanction Margaret's marriage with Maguire, every argument and influence
+having been resorted to in vain, Margaret and he made what is termed
+a runaway match of it, that is, a rustic elopement, in which the young
+couple go usually to the house of some friend, under the protection
+of whose wife the female remains until her marriage, when the husband
+brings her home.
+
+And now they commence life. No sooner were they united, than Art,
+feeling what was due to her who had made such and so many sacrifices for
+him, put his shoulder to the wheel with energy and vigor. Such aid as
+his father could give him, he did give; that which stood him most in
+stead, however, was the high character and unsullied reputation of his
+own family. Margaret's conduct, which was looked upon as a proof of
+great spirit and independence, rendered her, if possible, still better
+loved by the people than before. But, as we said, there was every
+confidence placed in Art, and the strongest hopes of his future success
+and prosperity in life expressed by all who knew him; and this was
+reasonable. Here was a young man of excellent conduct, a first-rate
+workman, steady, industrious, quiet, and, above all things, sober; for
+the three or four infractions of sobriety that took place during his
+apprenticeship, had they even been generally known, would have been
+reputed as nothing; the truth is, that both he and Margaret commenced
+life, if not with a heavy purse, at least with each a light heart. He
+immediately took a house in Ballykeerin, and, as it happened that a
+man of his own trade, named Davis, died about the same time of lockjaw,
+occasioned by a chisel wound in the ball of the thumb, as a natural
+consequence, Art came in for a considerable portion of his business;
+so true is it, that one man's misfortune is another man's making. His
+father did all he could for him, and Margaret's sisters also gave them
+some assistance, so that, ere the expiration of a year, they found
+themselves better off than they had reason to expect, and, what crowned
+their happiness--for they were happy--was the appearance of a lovely
+boy, whom, after his father, they called. Arthur. Their hearts had not
+much now to crave after--happiness was theirs, and health; and, to make
+the picture still more complete, prosperity, as the legitimate reward
+of Art's industry and close attention to business, was beginning to dawn
+upon them.
+
+One morning, a few months after this time, as she sat with their lovely
+babe in her arms, the little rogue playing with the tangles of her raven
+hair, Art addressed her in the fulness of as affectionate a heart as
+ever beat in a human bosom:--
+
+"Well, Mag," said he, "are you sorry for not marryin' Mark Hanratty?"
+
+She looked at him, and then at their beautiful babe, which was his
+image, and her lip quivered for a moment; she then smiled, and kissing
+the infant, left a tear upon its face.
+
+He started, "My God, Margaret," said he, "what is this?"
+
+"If that happy tear," she replied, "is a proof of it, I am."
+
+Art stooped, and kissing her tenderly, said--"May God make me, and keep
+me worthy of you, my darling wife!"
+
+"Still, Art," she continued, "there is one slight drawback upon my
+happiness, and that is, when it comes into my mind that in marryin' you,
+I didn't get a parent's blessin'; it sometimes makes my mind sad, and I
+can't help feelin' so."
+
+"I could wish you had got it myself," replied her husband, "but you know
+it can't be remedied now."
+
+"At all events," she said, "let us live so as that we may desarve it; it
+was my first and last offence towards my father and mother."
+
+"And it's very few could say as much, Mag, dear; but don't think of it,
+sure, may be, he may come about yet."
+
+"I can hardly hope that," she replied, "after the priest failin'."
+
+"Well, but," replied her husband, taking up the child in his arms, "who
+knows what this little man may do for us--who knows, some day, but we'll
+send a little messenger to his grandfather for a blessin' for his mammy
+that he won't have the heart to refuse."
+
+This opened a gleam of satisfaction in her mind. She and her husband
+having once more kissed the little fellow, exchanged glances of
+affection, and he withdrew to his workshop.
+
+Every week and month henceforth added to their comfort. Art advanced in
+life, in respectability, and independence; he was, indeed, a pattern
+to all tradesmen who wish to maintain in the world such a character
+as enforces esteem and praise; his industry was incessant, he was ever
+engaged in something calculated to advance himself; up early and
+down late was his constant practice--no man could exceed, him in
+punctuality--his word was sacred--whatever he said was done; and so
+general were his habits of industry, integrity, and extreme good conduct
+appreciated, that he was mentioned as a fresh instance of the high
+character sustained by all who had the old blood of the Fermanagh
+Maguires in their veins. In this way he proceeded, happy in the
+affections of his admirable wife--happy in two lovely children--happy in
+his circumstances--in short, every way happy, when, to still add to that
+happiness, on the night of the very day that closed the term of his oath
+against liquor--that closed the seventh year--his wife presented him
+with their third child, and second daughter.
+
+In Ireland there is generally a very festive spirit prevalent during
+christenings, weddings, or other social meetings of a similar nature;
+and so strongly is this spirit felt, that it is--or was, I should rather
+say--not at all an unusual thing for a man, when taking an oath
+against liquor, to except christenings or weddings, and very frequently
+funerals, as well as Christmas and Easter. Every one acquainted with
+the country knows this, and no one need be surprised at the delight with
+which Art Maguire hailed this agreeable coincidence. Art, we have said
+before, was naturally social, and, although he did most religiously
+observe his oath, yet, since the truth must be told, we are bound
+to admit that, on many and many an occasion, he did also most
+unquestionably regret the restraint that he had placed upon himself with
+regard to liquor. Whenever his friends were met together, whether at
+fair, or market, wedding, christening, or during the usual festivals, it
+is certain that a glass of punch or whiskey never crossed his nose
+that he did not feel a secret hankering after it, and would often have
+snuffed in the odor, or licked his lips at it, were it not that he
+would have considered the act as a kind of misprision of perjury. Now,
+however, that he was free, and about to have a christening in his house,
+it was at least only reasonable that he should indulge in a glass,
+if only for the sake of drinking the health of "the young lady." His
+brother Frank happened to be in town that evening, and Art prevailed on
+him to stop for the night.
+
+"You must stand for the young colleen, Frank," said he, "and who do you
+think is to join you?"
+
+"Why, how could I guess?" replied Frank.
+
+"The sorra other but little Toal Finnigan, that thought to take Margaret
+from me, you renumber."
+
+"I remimber he wanted to marry her, and I know that he's the most
+revengeful and ill-minded little scoundrel on the face of the earth; if
+ever there was a devil in a human bein', there's one in that misshapen
+but sugary little vagabone. His father was bad enough when he was
+alive, and worse than he ought to be, may God forgive him now, but this
+spiteful skinflint, that's a curse to the poor of the country, as he is
+their hatred, what could tempt you to ax him to stand for any child of
+yours?"
+
+"He may be what he likes, Frank, but all I can say is, that I found
+him civil and obligin', an' you know the devil's not so black as he's
+painted."
+
+"I know no such thing, Art," replied the other; "for that matter, he may
+be a great deal blacker; but still I'd advise you to have nothing to say
+to Toal--he's a bad graft, egg and bird; but what civility did he ever
+show you?"
+
+"Why, he--he's a devilish pleasant little fellow, any way, so he is;
+throth it's he that spakes well of you, at any rate; if he was ten
+times worse than he is, he has a tongue in his head that will gain him
+friends."
+
+"I see, Art," said Frank, laughing, "he has been layin' it thick an'
+sweet on you. My hand to you, there's not so sweet-tongued a knave in
+the province; but mind, I put you on your guard--he's never pure honey
+all out, unless where there's bitther hatred and revenge at the bottom
+of it--that's well known, so be advised and keep him at a distance; have
+nothin' to do or to say to him, and, as to havin' him for a godfather,
+why I hardly think the child could thrive that he'd stand for."
+
+"It's too late for that now,", replied Art, "for I axed him betther than
+three weeks agone."
+
+"An' did he consint?"
+
+"He did, to be sure."
+
+"Well, then, keep your word to him, of coorse; but, as soon as the
+christenings over, drop him like a hot potato."
+
+"Why, thin, that's hard enough, Frank, so long as I find the crathur
+civil."
+
+"Ay, but, Art, don't I tell you that it's his civility you should be
+afeard of; throth, the same civility ought to get him kicked a dozen
+times a day."
+
+"Faix and," said Art, "kicked or not, here he comes; whisht! don't be
+oncivil to the little bachelor at any rate."
+
+"Oncivil, why should I? the little extortionin' vagabone never injured
+or fleeced me; but, before he puts his nose into the house, let me
+tell you wanst more, Art, that he never gets sweet upon any one that he
+hasn't in hatred for them at the bottom; that's his carracther."
+
+"I know it is," said Art, "but, until I find it to be true, I'll take
+the ginerous side, an' I won't believe it; he's a screw, I know, an' a
+skinflint, an'--whisht! here he is."
+
+"Toal Finnigan, how are you?" said Art; "I was goin' to say how is every
+tether length of you, only that I think it would be impossible to get a
+tether short enough to measure you."
+
+"Ha, ha, ha, that's right good--divil a man livin' makes me laugh so
+much as--why then, Frank Maguire too!--throth, Frank, I'm proud to see
+you well--an' how are you, man? and--well, in throth I am happy to see
+you lookin' so well, and in good health; an' whisper, Frank, it's your
+own fau't that I'm not inquirin' for the wife and childre."
+
+"An' I can return the compliment, Toal; it's a shame for both of us to
+be bachelors at this time o' day."
+
+"Ah," said the little fellow, "I wasn't Frank Maguire, one of the best
+lookin' boys in the barony, an' the most respected, an' why not? Well,
+divil a thing afther all like the ould blood, an' if I wanted a pure
+dhrop of that same, maybe I don't know where to go to look for it--maybe
+I don't, I say!"
+
+"It's Toal's fault that he wasn't married many a year ago," said Art;
+"he refused more wives, Frank, than e'er a boy of his years from this to
+Jinglety cooeh--divil a lie in it; sure he'll tell you himself."
+
+Now, as Toal is to appear occasionally, and to be alluded to from time
+to time in this narrative, we shall give the reader a short sketch or
+outline of his physical appearance and moral character. In three words,
+then, he had all his father's vices multiplied tenfold, and not one of
+his good qualities, such as they were; his hair was of that nondescript
+color which partakes at once of the red, the fair, and the auburn; it
+was a bad dirty dun, but harmonized with his complexion to a miracle.
+That complexion, indeed, was no common one; as we said, it was one
+of those which, no matter how frequently it might have been scrubbed,
+always presented the undeniable evidences of dirt so thorougly ingrained
+into the pores of the skin, that no process could remove it, short
+of flaying him alive. His vile, dingy dun bristles stood out in all
+directions from his head, which was so shaped as to defy admeasurement;
+the little rascal's body was equally ill-made, and as for his limbs,
+we have already described them, as reaping-hooks of flesh and blood,
+terminated by a pair of lark-heeled feet, as flat as smoothing-irons.
+Now, be it known, that notwithstanding these disadvantages, little Toal
+looked upon himself as an Adonis upon a small scale, and did certainly
+believe that scarcely any female on whom he threw his fascinating eye
+could resist being enamored of him. This, of course, having become
+generally known, was taken advantage of, and many a merry country girl
+amused both herself and others at his expenses while he imagined her to
+be perfectly serious.
+
+"Then how did you escape at all," said Frank--"you that the girls are so
+fond of?"
+
+"You may well ax," said Toal; "but at any rate, it's the divil entirely
+to have them too fond of you. There's raison in every thing, but wanst
+a woman takes a strong fancy to the cut of your face, you're done for,
+until you get rid of her. Throth I suffered as much persecution that way
+as would make a good batch o' marthyrs. However, what can one do?"
+
+"It's a hard case, Toal," said Art; "an' I b'lieve you're as badly off,
+if not worse, now than ever."
+
+"In that respect," replied Toal, "I'm ladin' the life of a murdherer. I
+can't set my face out but there's a pursuit after me--chased an' hunted
+like a bag fox; devil a lie I'm tellin' you."
+
+"But do you intend to marry still, Toal?" asked Frank; "bekaise if you
+don't, it would be only raisonable for you to make it generally known
+that your mind's made up to die a bachelor."
+
+"I wouldn't bring the penalty an' expenses of a wife an' family on me,
+for the handsomest woman livin'," said Toal. "Oh no; the Lord in mercy
+forbid that! Amin, I pray."
+
+"But," said Art, "is it fair play to the girls not to let that be
+generally known, Toal?"
+
+"Hut," replied the other, "let them pick it out of their larnin', the
+thieves. Sure they parsecuted me to sich a degree, that they desarve no
+mercy at my hands. So, Art," he proceeded, "you've got another mouth to
+feed! Oh, the Lord pity you! If you go on this way, what 'ill become of
+you at last?"
+
+"Don't you know," replied Art, "that God always fits the back to the
+burden, and that he never sends a mouth but he sends something to fill
+it."
+
+The little extortioner shrugged his shoulders, and raising his eyebrows,
+turned up his eyes--as much as to say, What a pretty notion of life you
+have with such opinions as these!
+
+"Upon my word, Toal," said Art, "the young lady we've got home to us is
+a beauty; at all events, her godfathers need not be ashamed of her."
+
+"If she's like her own father or mother," replied Toal, once more
+resuming the sugar-candy style, "she can't be anything else than a
+beauty, It's well known that sich a couple never stood undher the roof
+of Aughindrummon Chapel, nor walked the street of Ballykeerin."
+
+Frank winked at Art, who, instead of returning the wink, as he ought
+to have done, shut both his eyes, and then looked at Toal with an
+expression of great compassion--as if he wished to say, Poor fellow, I
+don't think he can be so bad-hearted as the world gives him credit for.
+
+"Come, Toal," he replied, laughing, "none of your bother now. Ay was
+there, many a finer couple under the same roof, and on the same street;
+so no palaver, my man; But are you prepared to stand for the girsha? You
+know it's nearly a month since I axed you?"
+
+"To be sure I am; but who's the midwife?"
+
+"Ould Kate Sharpe; as lucky a woman as ever came about one's house."
+
+"Throth, then, I'm sorry for that," said Toal, "for she's a woman I
+don't like; an' I now say beforehand, that devil a traneen she'll be the
+betther of me, Art."
+
+"Settle that," replied Art, "between you; at all events, be ready on
+Sunday next--the christenin's fixed for it."
+
+After some farther chat, Toal, who, we should have informed our readers,
+had removed from his father's old residence into Ballykeerin, took his
+departure, quite proud at the notion of being a godfather at all; for in
+truth it was the first occasion on which he ever had an opportunity of
+arriving at that honor.
+
+Art was a strictly conscientious man; so much so, indeed, that he never
+defrauded a human being to the value of a farthing; and as for truth,
+it was the standard principle of his whole life. Honesty, truth, and
+sobriety are, indeed, the three great virtues upon which all that
+is honorable, prosperous, and happy is founded. Art's conscientious
+scruples were so strong, that although in point of fact the term of his
+oath had expired at twelve o'clock in the forenoon, he would not permit
+himself to taste a drop of spirits until after twelve at night.
+
+"It's best," said he to his brother, "to be on the safe side at all
+events: a few hours is neither one way nor the other. We haven't now
+more than a quarther to go, and then for a tight drop to wet my whistle,
+an' dhrink the little girshas health an' her mother's. Throth I've put
+in a good apprenticehip to sobriety, anyhow. Come, Madjey," he added,
+addressing the servant-maid, "put down the kettle till we have a little
+jorum of our own; Frank here and myself; and all of yez."
+
+"Very little jorum will go far wid me, you know, Art," replied his
+brother; "an' if you take my advice, you'll not go beyond bounds
+yourself either."
+
+"Throth, Frank, an' I'll not take either yours nor any other body's,
+until little Kate's christened. I think that afther a fast of seven
+years I'm entitled to a stretch."
+
+"Well, well," said his brother; "I see you're on for it; but as you said
+yourself a while ago, it's best to be on the safe side, you know."
+
+"Why, dang it, Frank, sure you don't imagine I'm goin' to drink the town
+dhry; there's raison in everything."
+
+At length the kettle was boiled, and the punch made; Art took his
+tumbler in hand, and rose up; he looked at it, then glanced at his
+brother, who observed that he got pale and agitated.
+
+"What ails you?" said he; "is there any thing wrong wid you?"
+
+"I'm thinkin'," replied Art, "of what I suffered wanst by it; an'
+besides, it's so long since I tasted it, that somehow I jist feel for
+all the world as if the oath was scarcely off of me yet, or as if I was
+doin' what's not right."
+
+"That's mere weakness," said Frank; "but still, if you have any scruple,
+don't drink it; I bekaise the truth is, Art, you couldn't have a scruple
+that will do you more good than one against liquor."
+
+"Well, I'll only take this tumbler an' another to-night; and then we'll
+go to bed, plase goodness."
+
+His agitation then passed away, and he drank a portion of the liquor.
+
+"I'm thinkin', Art," said Frank, "that it wouldn't be aisy to find two
+men that has a betther right to be thankful to God for the good fortune
+we've both had, than yourself and me. The Lord has been good, to me, for
+I'm thrivin' to my heart's content, and savin' money every day."
+
+"And glory be to his holy name," said Art, looking with a strong sense
+of religious feeling upward, "so am I; and if we both hould to this,
+we'll die rich, plaise goodness. I have saved up very well, too; and
+here I sit this night as happy a man as is in Europe. The world's
+flowin' on me, an' I want for nothin'; I have good health, a clear
+conscience, and everything that a man in my condition of life can stand
+in need of, or wish for; glory be to God for it all!"
+
+"Amen," said Frank; "glory be to his name for it!"
+
+"But, Frank," said Art, "there's one thing that I often wonder at, an'
+indeed so does every one a'most."
+
+"What is that, Art?"
+
+"Why, that you don't think o' marryin'. Sure you have good means to
+keep a wife, and rear a family now; an' of coorse we all wonder that you
+don't."
+
+"Indeed, to tell you the truth, Art, I don't know myself what's the
+raison of it--the only wife I think of is my business; but any way, if
+you was to see the patthern of married life there is undher the roof
+wid me, you'd not be much in consate wid marriage yourself, if you war a
+bachelor."
+
+"Why," inquired the other, "don't they agree?"
+
+"Ay do they, so well that they get sometimes into very close an' lovin'
+grips togather; if ever there was a scald alive she's one o' them, an'
+him that was wanst so careless and aisey-tempered, she has now made him
+as bad as herself--has trained him regularly until he has a tongue that
+would face a ridgment. Tut, sure divil a week that they don't flake one
+another, an' half my time's, taken up reddin' them."
+
+"Did you ever happen to get the reddin' blow? eh? ha, ha, ha!"
+
+"No, not yet; but the truth is, Art, that an ill-tongued wife has driven
+many a husband to ruin, an' only that I'm there to pay attention to the
+business, he'd be a poor drunken beggarman long ago, an' all owin' to
+her vile temper."
+
+"Does she dhrink?"
+
+"No, sorra drop--this wickedness all comes natural to her; she wouldn't
+be aisy out of hot wather, and poor Jack's parboiled in it every day in
+the year."
+
+"Well, it's I that have got the treasure, Frank; from the day that I
+first saw her face till the minute we're spakin' in, I never knew her
+temper to turn--always the same sweet word, the same flow of spirits,
+and the same light laugh; her love an' affection for me an' the childher
+there couldn't be language found for. Come, throth we'll drink her
+health in another tumbler, and a speedy uprise to her, asthore machree
+that she is, an' when I think of how she set every one of her people at
+defiance, and took her lot wid myself so nobly, my heart burns wid love
+for her, ay, I feel my very heart burnin' widin me."
+
+Two tumblers were again mixed, and Margaret's health was drunk.
+
+"Here's her health," said Art, "may God grant her long life and
+happiness!"
+
+"Amen!" responded Frank, "an' may He grant that she'll never know a
+sorrowful heart!"
+
+Art laid down his tumbler, and covered his eyes with his hands for a
+minute or two.
+
+"I'm not ashamed, Frank," said he, "I'm not a bit ashamed of these
+tears--she desarves them--where is her aiquil? oh, where is her
+aiquil? It's she herself that has the tear for the distresses of her
+fellow-creatures, an' the ready hand to relieve them; may the Almighty
+shower down his blessins on her!"
+
+"Them tears do you credit," replied Frank, "and although I always
+thought well of you, Art, and liked you betther than any other in the
+family, although I didn't say much about it, still, I tell you, I think
+betther of you this minute than I ever did in my life."
+
+"There's only one thing in the wide world that's throublin' her,"
+said Art, "an' that is, that she hadn't her parents' blessin' when she
+married me, nor since--for ould Murray's as stiff-necked as a mule, an'
+the more he's driven to do a thing the less he'll do it."
+
+"In that case," observed Frank, "the best plan is to let him alone;
+maybe when it's not axed for he'll give it."
+
+"I wish he would," said Art, "for Margaret's sake; it would take away a
+good deal of uneasiness from her mind."
+
+The conversation afterwards took several turns, and embraced a variety
+of topics, till the second tumbler was finished.
+
+"Now," said Art, "as there's but the two of us, and in regard of the
+occasion that's in it, throth we'll jist take one more a piece."
+
+"No," replied Frank, "I never go beyant two, and you said you wouldn't."
+
+"Hut, man, divil a matther for that; sure there's only ourselves two,
+as I said, an' Where's the harm? Throth, it's a long time since I felt
+myself so comfortable, an' besides, it's not every night we have you wid
+us. Come, Frank, one more in honor of the occasion."
+
+"Another drop won't cross my lips this night," returned his brother,
+firmly, "so you needn't be mixin' it."
+
+"Sorra foot you'll go to bed to-night till you take another; there, now
+it's mixed, so you know you must take it now."
+
+"Not a drop."
+
+"Well, for the sake of poor little Kate, that you're to stand for; come,
+Frank, death alive, man!"
+
+"Would my drinkin' it do Kate any good?"
+
+"Hut, man alive, sure if one was to lay down the law that way upon every
+thing, they might as well be out of the world at wanst; come, Frank."'
+
+"No, Art, I said I wouldn't, and I won't break my word."
+
+"But, sure, that's only a trifle; take the liquor; the sorra betther
+tumbler of punch ever was made: it's Barney Scaddhan's whiskey."*
+
+     * Scaddhan, a herring, a humorous nickname bestowed
+     upon him, because he made the foundation of his fortune
+     by selling herrings.
+
+"An' if Barney Scaddhan keeps good whiskey, is that any rason why
+I should break my word, or would you have me get dhrunk because his
+liquor's betther than another man's?"
+
+"Well, for the sake of poor Margaret, then, an' she so fond o' you;
+sure many a time she tould me that sorra brother-in-law ever she had she
+likes so well, an' I know it's truth; that I may never handle a plane
+but it is; dang it, Frank, don't be so stiff."
+
+"I never was stiff, Art, but I always was, and always will be, firm,
+when I know I'm in the right; as I said about the child, what good would
+my drinkin' that tumbler of punch do Margaret? None in life; it would
+do her no good, and it would do myself harm. Sure, we did drink her
+health."
+
+"An' is that your respect for her?" said Art, in a huff, "if that's it,
+why--"
+
+"There's not a man livin' respects her more highly, or knows her worth
+betther than I do," replied Frank, interrupting him, "but I simply ax
+you, Art, what mark of true respect would the fact of my drinkin' that
+tumbler of punch be to her? The world's full of these foolish errors,
+and bad ould customs, and the sooner they're laid aside, an' proper ones
+put in their place, the betther."
+
+"Oh, very well, Frank, the sorra one o' me will ask you to take it agin;
+I only say, that if I was in your house, as you are in mine, I wouldn't
+break squares about a beggarly tumbler of punch."
+
+"So much the worse, Art, I would rather you would; there, now, you
+have taken your third tumbler, yet you said when we sat down that you'd
+confine yourself to two; is that keepin' your word? I know you may call
+breakin' it now a trifle, but I tell you, that when a man begins to
+break his word in trifles, he'll soon go on to greater things, and maybe
+end without much regardin' it in any thing."
+
+"You don't mane to say, Frank, or to hint, that ever I'd come to sich a
+state as that I wouldn't regard my word."
+
+"I do not; but even if I did, by followin' up this coorse you'd put
+yourself in the right way of comin' to it."
+
+"Throth, I'll not let this other one be lost either," he added, drawing
+over to him the tumbler which he had filled for his brother; "I've an
+addition to my family--the child an' mother doin' bravely, an' didn't
+taste a dhrop these seven long years; here's your health, at all events,
+Frank, an' may the Lord put it into your heart to marry a wife, an' be
+as happy as I am. Here, Madgey, come here, I say; take that whiskey an'
+sugar, an' mix yourselves a jorum; it's far in the night, but no matther
+for that--an' see, before you mix it, go an' bring my own darlin' Art,
+till he dhrinks his mother's health."
+
+"Why now, Art," began his brother, "is it possible that you can have the
+conscience to taich the poor boy sich a cursed habit so soon? What
+are you about this minute but trainin' him up to what may be his own
+destruction yet?"
+
+"Come now, Frank, none of your moralizin'," the truth is, that the punch
+was beginning rapidly to affect his head; "none of your moralizin',
+throth it's a preacher you ought to be, or a lawyer, to lay down the
+law. Here, Madgey, bring him to me; that's my son, that there isn't the
+like of in Ballykeerin, any way. Eh, Frank, it's ashamed of him I ought
+to be, isn't it? Kiss me, Art, and then kiss your uncle Frank, the best
+uncle that ever broke the world's bread is the same Frank--that's a good
+boy, Art; come now, drink your darlin' mother's health in this glass of
+brave punch; my mother's health, say, long life an' happiness to her!
+that's a man, toss it off at wanst, bravo; arra, Frank, didn't he do
+that manly? the Lord love him, where 'ud you get sich a fine swaddy as
+he is of his age? Oh, Frank, what 'ud become of me if anything happened
+that boy? it's a mad-house would hould me soon. May the Lord in heaven
+save and guard him from all evil and clanger!"
+
+Frank saw that it was useless to remonstrate with him at such a
+moment, for the truth is, intoxication was setting in fast, and all his
+influence over him was gone.
+
+"Here, Atty, before you go to bed agin, jist a weeshy sup more to drink
+your little sisther's health; sure Kate Sharpe brought you home a little
+sisther, Atty."
+
+"The boy's head will not be able to stand so much," said Frank; "you
+will make him tipsy."
+
+"Divil a tipsy; sure it's only a mere draineen."
+
+He then made the little fellow drink the baby's health, after which he
+was despatched to bed.
+
+"Throth, it's in for a penny in for a pound wid myself. I know, Frank,
+that--that there's something or other wrong wid my head, or at any rate
+wid my eyes; for everything, somehow, is movin'. Is everything movin',
+Frank?"
+
+"You think so," said Frank, "because you're fast getting tipsy--if you
+arn't tipsy all out."
+
+"Well, then, if I'm tip--tipsy, divil a bit the worse I can be by
+another tumbler. Come, Frank, here's the ould blood of Ireland--the
+Maguires of Fermanagh! And now, Frank, I tell you, it would more become
+you to drink that toast, than to be sittin' there like an oracle, as you
+are; for upon my sowl, you're nearly as bad. But, Frank."
+
+"Well, Art."
+
+"Isn't little Toal Finnigan a civil little fellow--that is--is--if
+he was well made. 'There never stood,' says he, 'sich a couple in the
+chapel of--of Aughindrumon, nor there never walked sich a couple up or
+down the street of Ballykeerin--that's the chat,' says he: an' whisper,
+Frank, ne--neither did there. Whe--where is Margaret's aiquil, I'd--I'd
+like to know? an' as for me, I'll measure myself across the shouldhers
+aginst e'er a--a man, woman, or child in--in the parish. Co--come here,
+now, Frank, till I me--measure the small o' my leg ag--aginst yours;
+or if--if that makes you afeard, I'll measure the--the ball of my leg
+aginst the ball of yours. There's a wrist, Frank; look at that? jist
+look at it."
+
+"I see it; it is a powerful wrist."
+
+"But feel it."
+
+"Tut, Art, sure I see it."
+
+"D--n it, man, jist feel it--feel the breadth of--of that bone.
+Augh--that's the--the wrist; so anyhow, here's little Toal Finnigan's
+health, an' I don't care what they say, I like little Toal, an' I will
+like little Toal; bekaise--aise if--if he was the divil, as--as they say
+he is, in disguise--ha, ha, ha! he has a civil tongue in his head."
+
+He then commenced and launched out into the most extravagant praises of
+himself, his wife, his children; and from these he passed to the ould
+blood of Ireland, and the Fermanagh Maguires.
+
+"Where," he said, "whe--where is there in the country, or anywhere else,
+a family that has sich blood as ours in their veins? Very well; an'
+aren't we proud of it, as we have a right to be? Where's the Maguire
+that would do a mane or shabby act? tha--that's what I'd like to know.
+Isn't the word of a Maguire looked upon as aiquil to--to an--another
+man's oath; an' where's the man of them that was--as ever known to break
+it? Eh Frank? No; stead--ed--steady's the word wid the Maguires, and
+honor bright."
+
+Frank was about to remind him that he had in his own person given a
+proof that night that a Maguire could break his word, and commit
+a disreputable action besides; but as he saw it was useless, he
+judiciously declined then making any observation whatsoever upon it.
+
+After a good deal of entreaty, Frank succeeded in prevailing on him to
+go to bed; in which, however, he failed, until Art had inflicted on
+him three woful songs, each immensely long, and sung in that peculiarly
+fascinating drawl, which is always produced by intoxication. At length,
+and when the night was more than half spent, he assisted him to bed--a
+task of very considerable difficulty, were it not that it was relieved
+by his receiving from the tipsy man several admirable precepts, and an
+abundance of excellent advice, touching his conduct in the world; not
+forgetting religion, on which he dwelt with a maudlin solemnity of
+manner, that was, or would have been to strangers, extremely ludicrous.
+Frank, however, could not look upon it with levity. He understood
+his brother's character and foibles too well, and feared that
+notwithstanding his many admirable qualities, his vanity and want of
+firmness, or, in other words, of self-dependence, might overbalance them
+all.
+
+The next morning his brother Frank was obliged to leave betimes, and
+consequently had no opportunity of advising or remonstrating with him.
+On rising, he felt sick and feverish, and incapable of going into his
+workshop. The accession made to his family being known, several of his
+neighbors came in to inquire after the health of his wife and infant;
+and as Art, when left to his own guidance, had never been remarkable
+for keeping a secret, he made no scruple of telling them that he had
+got drunk the night before, and was, of course, quite out of order that
+morning. Among the rest, the first to come in was little Toal Finnigan,
+who, in addition to his other virtues, possessed a hardness of head--by
+which we mean a capacity for bearing drink--that no liquor, or no
+quantity of liquor, could overcome.
+
+"Well," said Toal, "sure it's very reasonable that you should be out of
+ordher; after bein' seven years from it, it doesn't come so natural to
+you as it would do. Howandiver, you know that there's but the one cure
+for it--a hair of the same dog that bit you; and if you're afeared to
+take the same hair by yourself, why I'll take a tuft of it wid you,
+an' we'll dhrink the wife's health--my ould sweetheart--and the little
+sthranger's."
+
+"Throth I believe you're right," said Art, "in regard to the cure; so
+in the name of goodness we'll have a gauliogue to begin the day wid, an'
+set the hair straight on us."
+
+During that day, Art was neither drunk nor sober, but halfway between
+the two states. He went to his workshop about two o'clock; but his
+journeymen and apprentices could smell the strong whiskey off him, and
+perceive an occasional thickness of pronunciation in his speech, which
+a good deal surprised them. When evening came, however, his neighbors,
+whom he had asked in, did not neglect to attend; the bottle was again
+produced, and poor Art, the principle of restraint having now been
+removed, re-enacted much the same scene as on the preceding night, with
+this exception only, that he was now encouraged instead of being checked
+or reproved.
+
+There were now only three days to elapse until the following Sabbath,
+on which day the child was to be baptized; one of them, that is, the one
+following his first intoxication with Frank, was lost to him, for, as
+we have said, though not precisely drunk, he was not in a condition to
+work, nor properly to give directions. The next he felt himself in much
+the same state, but with still less of regret.
+
+"The truth is," said he, "I won't be rightly able to do any thing till
+afther this christenin', so that I may set down the remaindher o' the
+week as lost; well, sure that won't break me at any rate. It's long
+since I lost a week before, and we must only make up for it; afther the
+christenin' I'll work double tides."
+
+This was all very plausible reasoning, but very fallacious
+notwithstanding; indeed, it is this description of logic which conceals
+the full extent of a man's errors from, himself, and which has sent
+thousands forward on their career to ruin. Had Art, for instance, been
+guided by his steady and excellent brother, or, what would have been
+better still, by his own good sense and firmness, he would have got up
+the next morning in health, with an easy mind, and a clear conscience,
+and been able to resume his work as usual. Instead of that, the
+night's debauch produced its natural consequences, feverishness and
+indisposition, which, by the aid of a bad proverb, and worse company,
+were removed by the very cause which produced them. The second night's
+debauch lost the following day, and then, forsooth, the week was nearly
+gone, and it wasn't worth while to change the system, as if it was ever
+too soon to mend, or as if even a single day's work were not a matter of
+importance to a mechanic. Let any man who feels himself reasoning as Art
+Maguire did, rest assured that there is an evil principle within him,
+which, unless he strangle it by prompt firmness, and a strong conviction
+of moral duty, will ultimately be his destruction.
+
+There was once a lake, surrounded by very beautiful scenery, to which
+its waters gave a fine and picturesque effect. This lake was situated on
+an elevated part of the country, and a little below it, facing the
+west, was a precipice, which terminated a lovely valley, that gradually
+expanded until it was lost in the rich campaign country below. From this
+lake there was no outlet of water whatsoever, but its shores at the same
+time were rich and green, having been all along devoted to pasture.
+Now, it so happened that a boy, whose daily occupation was to tend his
+master's sheep, went one day when the winds were strong, to the edge of
+the lake, on the side to which they blew, and began to amuse himself by
+making a small channel in the soft earth with his naked foot. This small
+identation was gradually made larger and larger by the waters--whenever
+the wind blew strongly in that direction--until, in the course of time,
+it changed into a deep chasm, which wore away the earth that intervened
+between the lake and the precipice. The result may be easily guessed.
+When the last portion of the earth gave way, the waters of the lake
+precipitated themselves upon the beautiful and peaceful glen, carrying
+death and destruction in their course, and leaving nothing but a dark
+unsightly morass behind them. So is it with the mind of man. When
+he gives the first slight assent to a wrong tendency, or a vicious
+resolution, he resembles the shepherd's boy, who, unconscious of the
+consequences that followed, made the first small channel in the earth
+with his naked foot. The vice or the passion will enlarge itself by
+degrees until all power of resistance is removed; and the heart becomes
+a victim to the impetuosity of an evil principle to which no assent of
+the will ever should have been given.
+
+Art, as we have said, lost the week, and then came Sunday for the
+christening. On that day, of course, an extra cup was but natural,
+especially as it would put an end to his indulgence on the one hand, and
+his idleness on the other. Monday morning would enable him to open a new
+leaf, and as it was the last day--that is, Sunday was--why, dang it,
+he would take a good honest jorum. Frank, who had a greater regard for
+Art's character than it appeared Art himself had, Spoke to him privately
+on the morning of the christening, as to the necessity and decency
+of keeping himself sober on that day; but, alas! during this friendly
+admonition he could perceive, that early as it was, his brother was
+not exactly in a state of perfect sobriety. His remonstrances were very
+unpalatable to Art, and as a consciousness of his conduct, added to the
+nervousness produced by drink, had both combined to produce irritability
+of temper, he addressed himself more harshly to his brother than he had
+ever done in his life before. Frank, for the sake of peace, gave up the
+task, although he saw clearly enough that the christening was likely to
+terminate, at least so far as Art was concerned, in nothing less than
+a drunken debauch. This, indeed, was true. Little Toal, who drank more
+liquor than any two among them, and Frank himself, were the only sober
+persons present, all the rest having successfully imitated the example
+set them by Art, who was carried to bed at an early hour in the evening.
+This was but an indifferent preparation for his resolution to commence
+work on Monday morning, as the event proved. When the morning came,
+he was incapable of work; a racking pain in the head, and sickness of
+stomach, were the comfortable assurances of his inability. Here was
+another day lost; but finding that it also was irretrievably gone, he
+thought it would be no great harm to try the old cure--a hair of the
+dog--as before, and it did not take much force of reasoning to persuade
+himself to that course. In this manner he went on, losing day after day,
+until another week was lost. At length he found himself in his workshop,
+considerably wrecked and debilitated, striving with tremulous and
+unsteady hands to compensate for his lost time; it was now, however,
+too late--the evil habit had been contracted--the citadel had been
+taken--the waters had been poisoned at their source--the small track
+with the naked foot had been made. From this time forward he did little
+but make resolutions to-day, which he broke tomorrow; in the course of
+some time he began to drink with his own workmen, and even admitted his
+apprentices to their potations. Toal Finnigan, and about six or eight
+dissolute and drunken fellows, inhabitants of Ballykeerin, were his
+constant companions, and never had they a drinking bout that he was
+not sent for: sometimes they would meet in his own workshop, which was
+turned into a tap-room, and there drink the better part of the day. Of
+course the workmen could not be forgotten in their potations, and, as a
+natural consequence, all work was suspended, business at a stand, time
+lost, and morals corrupted.
+
+His companions now availed themselves of his foibles, winch they drew
+out into more distinct relief. Joined to an overweening desire to
+hear himself praised, was another weakness, which proved to be very
+beneficial to his companions; this was a swaggering and consequential
+determination, when tipsy, to pay the whole reckoning, and to treat
+every one he knew.
+
+He was a Maguire--he was a gentleman--had the old blood in his veins,
+and that he might never handle a plane, if any man present should pay a
+shilling, so long as he was to the fore. This was an argument in which
+he always had the best of it; his companions taking care, even if he
+happened to forget it, that some chance word or hint should bring it to
+his memory.
+
+"Here, Barney Scaddhan--Barney, I say, what's the reckonin', you sinner?
+Now, Art Maguire, divil a penny of this you'll pay for--you're too
+ginerous, an' have the heart of a prince."
+
+"And kind family for him to have the heart of a prince, sure we all know
+what the Fermanagh Maguires wor; of coorse we won't let him pay."
+
+"Toal Finnigan, do you want me to rise my hand to you? I tell you that
+a single man here won't pay a penny o' reckonin', while I'm to the good;
+and, to make short work of it, by the contints o' the book, I'll strike
+the first of ye that'll attempt it. Now!"
+
+"Faix, an' I for one," said Toal, "won't come undher your fist; it's
+little whiskey ever I'd drink if I did."
+
+"Well, well," the others would exclaim, "that ends it; howendiver, never
+mind, Art, I'll engage we'll have our revenge on you for that--the next
+meetin' you won't carry it all your own way; we'll be as stiff as you'll
+be stout, my boy, although you beat us out of it now."
+
+"Augh," another would say, in a whisper especially designed for him, "by
+the livin' farmer there never was one, even of the Maguires, like him,
+an' that's no lie."
+
+Art would then pay the reckoning with the air of a nobleman, or, if he
+happened to be without money, he would order it to be scored to him, for
+as yet his credit was good.
+
+It is wonderful to reflect how vanity blinds common sense, and turns
+all the power of reason and judgment to nothing. Art was so thoroughly
+infatuated by his own vanity, that he was utterly incapable of seeing
+through the gross and selfish flattery with which they plied him. Nay,
+when praising him, or when sticking him in for drink, as it is termed,
+they have often laughed in his very face, so conscious were they that it
+could be done with impunity.
+
+This course of life could not fail to produce suitable consequences to
+his health, his reputation, and his business. His customers began to
+find now that the man whose word had never been doubted, and whose
+punctuality was proverbial, became so careless and negligent in
+attending to his orders, that it was quite useless to rely upon his
+promises, and, as a very natural consequence, they began to drop off
+one after another, until he found to his cost that a great number of his
+best and most respectable supporters ceased to employ him.
+
+When his workmen, too, saw that he had got into tippling and irregular
+habits, and that his eye was not, as in the days of his industry,
+over them, they naturally became careless and negligent, as did the
+apprentices also. Nor was this all; the very individuals who had been
+formerly remarkable for steadiness, industry, and sobriety--for Art
+would then keep no other--were now, many of them, corrupted by his own
+example, and addicted to idleness and drink. This placed him in a very
+difficult position; for how, we ask, could he remonstrate with them so
+long as he himself transgressed more flagrantly than they did? For this
+reason he was often forced to connive at outbreaks of drunkenness and
+gross cases of neglect, which no sober man would suffer in those whom he
+employed.
+
+"Take care of your business, and your business will take care of you,"
+is a good and a wholesome proverb, that cannot bo too strongly impressed
+on the minds of the working classes. Art began to feel surprised that
+his business was declining, but as yet his good sense was strong enough
+to point out to him the cause of it. His mind now became disturbed, for
+while he felt conscious that his own neglect and habits of dissipation
+occasioned it, he also felt that he was but a child in the strong grasp
+of his own propensities. This was anything but a consoling reflection,
+and so long as it lasted he was gloomy, morbid, and peevish; his
+excellent wife was the first to remark this, and, indeed, was the first
+that had occasion to remark it, for even in this stage of his life, the
+man who had never spoken to her, or turned his eye upon her, but with
+tenderness and affection, now began, especially when influenced by
+drink, to give manifestations of temper that grieved her to the heart.
+Abroad, however, he was the same good-humored fellow as ever, with a few
+rare exceptions--when he got quarrelsome and fought with his companions.
+His workmen all were perfectly aware of his accessibility to flattery,
+and some of them were not slow to avail themselves of it: these were
+the idle and unscrupulous, who, as they resembled himself, left nothing
+unsaid or undone to maintain his good opinion, and they succeeded. His
+business now declined so much, that he was obliged to dismiss some of
+them, and, as if he had been fated to ruin, the honest and independent,
+who scorned to flatter his weaknesses, were the very persons put out
+of his employment, because their conduct was a silent censure upon his
+habits, and the men he retained were those whom he himself had made
+drunken and profligate by his example; so true is it that a drunkard is
+his own enemy in a thousand ways.
+
+Here, then, is our old friend Art falling fast away from the proverbial
+integrity of his family--his circumstances are rapidly declining--his
+business running to a point--his reputation sullied, and his
+temper becoming sharp and vehement; these are strong indications of
+mismanagement, neglect, and folly, or, in one word, of a propensity to
+drink.
+
+About a year and a half has now elapsed, and Art, in spite of several
+most determined resolutions to reform, is getting still worse in every
+respect. It is not to be supposed, however, that during this period he
+has not had visitations of strong feeling--of repentance--remorse--or
+that love of drink had so easy a victory over him as one would imagine.
+No such thing. These internal struggles sometimes affected him even unto
+agony, and he has frequently wept bitter tears on finding himself the
+victim of this terrible habit. He had not, however, the courage to
+look into his own condition with a firm eye, or to examine the state of
+either his heart or his circumstances with the resolution of a man who
+knows that he must suffer pain by the inspection. Art could not bear the
+pain of such an examination, and, in order to avoid feeling it, he had
+recourse to the oblivion of drink; not reflecting that the adoption of
+every such remedy for care resembles the wisdom of the man, who, when
+raging under the tortures of thirst, attempted to allay them by drinking
+sea-water. Drink relieved him for a moment, but he soon found that in
+his case the remedy was only another name for the disease.
+
+It is not necessary to assure our readers that during Art's unhappy
+progress hitherto, his admirable brother Frank felt wrung to the heart
+by his conduct. All that good advice, urged with good feeling and good
+sense, could do, was tried on him, but to no purpose; he ultimately lost
+his temper on being reasoned with, and flew into a passion with Frank,
+whom he abused for interfering, as he called it, in business which did
+not belong to him. Notwithstanding this bluster, however, there was no
+man whom he feared so much; in fact, he dreaded his very appearance, and
+would go any distance out of his way rather than come in contact with
+him. He felt Frank's moral ascendency too keenly, and was too bitterly
+sensible of the neglect with which he had treated his affectionate and
+friendly admonitions, to meet him with composure. Indeed, we must say,
+that, independently of his brother Frank, he was not left to his own
+impulses, without many a friendly and sincere advice. The man had been
+so highly respected--his name was so stainless--his conduct so good,
+so blameless; he stood forth such an admirable pattern of industry,
+punctuality, and sobriety, that his departure from all these virtues
+occasioned general regret and sorrow. Every friend hoped that he
+would pay attention to his advice, and every friend tried it, but,
+unfortunately, every friend failed. Art, now beyond the reach of
+reproof, acted as every man like him acts; he avoided those who, because
+they felt an interest in his welfare, took the friendly liberty of
+attempting to rescue him, and consequently associated only with those
+who drank with him, flattered him, skulked upon him, and laughed at him.
+
+One friend, however, he had, who, above all others, first in place and
+in importance, we cannot overlook--that friend was his admirable and
+affectionate wife. Oh, in what language can we adequately describe
+her natural and simple eloquence, her sweetness of disposition, her
+tenderness, her delicacy of reproof, and her earnest struggles to win
+back her husband from the habits which were destroying him! And in
+the beginning she was often successful for a time, and many a tear of
+transient repentance has she occasioned him to shed, when she succeeded
+in touching his heart, and stirring his affection for her and for their
+children.
+
+In circumstances similar to Art's, however, we first feel our own
+errors, we then feel grateful to those who have the honesty to reprove
+us for them: by and by, on finding that we are advancing on the wrong
+path, we begin to disrelish the advice, as being only an unnecessary
+infliction of pain; having got so far as to disrelish the advice,
+we soon begin to disrelish the adviser; and ultimately, we become so
+thoroughly wedded to our own selfish vices, as to hate every one who
+would take us out of their trammels.
+
+When Art found that the world, as he said, was going against him,
+instead of rallying, as he might, and ought to have done, he began
+to abuse the world, and attribute to it all the misfortunes which he
+himself, and not the world, had occasioned him. The world, in fact,
+is nothing to any man but the reflex of himself; if you treat yourself
+well, and put yourself out of the power of the world, the world will
+treat you well, and respect you; but if you neglect yourself, do not at
+all be surprised that the world and your friends will neglect you also.
+So far the world acts with great justice and propriety, and takes
+its cue from your own conduct; you cannot, therefore, blame the world
+without first blaming yourself.
+
+Two years had now elapsed, and Art's business was nearly gone; he had
+been obliged to discharge the drunken fellows we spoke of, but not until
+they had assisted in a great measure to complete his ruin. Two years of
+dissipation, neglect of business, and drunkenness, were quite sufficient
+to make Art feel that it is a much easier thing to fall into poverty and
+contempt, than to work a poor man's way, from early struggle and the tug
+of life, to ease and independence.
+
+His establishment was now all but closed; the two apprentices had
+scarcely anything to do, and, indeed, generally amused themselves in
+the workshop by playing Spoil Five--a fact which was discovered by Art
+himself, who came on them unexpectedly one day when tipsy; but, as he
+happened to be in an extremely good humor, he sat down and took a hand
+along with them. This was a new element of enjoyment to him, and instead
+of reproving them for their dishonest conduct, he suffered himself to
+be drawn into the habit of gambling, and so strongly did this grow upon
+him, that from henceforth he refused to participate in any drinking
+bout unless the parties were to play for the liquor. For this he had now
+neither temper nor coolness; while drinking upon the ordinary plan
+with his companions, he almost uniformly paid the reckoning from sheer
+vanity; or, in other words, because they managed him; but now that it
+depended upon what he considered to be skill, nothing ever put him
+so completely out of temper as to be put in for it. This low gambling
+became a passion with him; but it was a passion that proved to be the
+fruitful cause of fights and quarrels without end. Being seldom either
+cool or sober, he was a mere dupe in the hands of his companions; but
+whether by fair play or foul, the moment he perceived that the game had
+gone against him, that moment he generally charged his opponents with
+dishonesty and fraud, and then commenced a fight. Many a time has
+he gone home, beaten and bruised, and black, and cut, and every way
+disfigured in these vile and blackguard contests; but so inveterately
+had this passion for card-playing--that is, gambling for liquor--worked
+itself upon him, that he could not suffer a single day to pass without
+indulging in it. Defeat of any kind was a thing he could never think of;
+but for a Maguire--one of the great Fermanagh Maguires--to be beaten
+at a rascally game of Spoil Five, was not to be endured; the matter was
+impossible, unless by foul play, and as there was only one method of
+treating those who could stoop to the practice of foul play, why he
+seldom lost any time in adopting it. This was to apply the fist, and as
+he had generally three or four against him, and as, in most instances,
+he was in a state of intoxication, it usually happened that he received
+most punishment.
+
+Up to this moment we have not presented Art to our readers in any other
+light than that of an ordinary drunkard, seen tipsy and staggering in
+the streets, or singing as he frequently was, or fighting, or playing
+cards in the public-houses. Heretofore he was not before the world, and
+in everybody's eye; but he had now become so common a sight in the town
+of Ballykeerin, that his drunkenness was no longer a matter of surprise
+to its inhabitants. At the present stage of his life he could not bear
+to see his brother Frank; and his own Margaret, although unchanged and.
+loving as ever, was no longer to him the Margaret that she had been.
+He felt how much he had despised her advice, neglected her comfort, and
+forgotten the duties which both God and nature had imposed upon him,
+with respect to her and their children. These feelings coming upon him
+during short intervals of reflection, almost drove him mad, and he
+has often come home to her and them in a frightful and terrible
+consciousness that he had committed some great crime, and that she and
+their children were involved in its consequences.
+
+"Margaret," he would say, "Margaret, what is it I've done aginst you and
+the childre? I have done some great crime aginst you all, for surely if
+I didn't, you wouldn't look as you do--Margaret, asthore, where is the
+color that was in your cheeks? and my own Art here--that always pacifies
+me when nobody else can--even Art doesn't look what he used to be."
+
+"Well, sure he will, Art, dear," she would reply; "now will you let me
+help you to bed? it's late; it's near three o'clock; Oh Art, dear, if
+you were----"
+
+"I won't go to bed--I'll stop here where I am, wid my head on the table,
+till mornin'. Now do you know--come here, Margaret--let me hear you--do
+you know, and are you sensible of the man you're married to?"
+
+"To be sure I am."
+
+"No, I tell you; I say you are not. There is but one person in the house
+that knows that."
+
+"You're right, Art darlin'--you're right. Come here, Atty; go to your
+father; you know what to say, avick."
+
+"Well, Art," he would continue, "do you know who your father is?"
+
+"Ay do I; he's one of the great Fermanagh Maguires--the greatest family
+in the kingdom. Isn't that it?"
+
+"That's it, Atty darlin'--come an' kiss me for that; yes, I'm one of the
+great Fermanagh Maguires. Isn't that a glorious thin', Atty?"
+
+"Now, Art, darlin', will you let me help you to bed--think of the hour
+it is."
+
+"I won't go, I tell you. I'll sit here wid my head on the table all
+night. Come here, Atty. Atty, it's wondherful how I love you--above all
+creatures livin' do I love you. Sure I never refuse to do any thing for
+you, Atty; do I now?"
+
+"Well, then, will you come to bed for me?"
+
+"To be sure I will, at wanst;" and the unhappy man instantly rose and
+staggered into his bedroom, aided and supported by his wife and child;
+for the latter lent whatever little assistance he could give to his
+drunken father, whom he tenderly loved.
+
+His shop, however, is now closed, the apprentices are gone, and the last
+miserable source of their support no longer exists. Poverty now sets
+in, and want and destitution. He parts with his tools; but not for the
+purpose of meeting the demands of his wife and children at home; no;
+but for drink--drink--drink--drink. He is now in such a state that he
+cannot, dares not, reflect, and consequently, drink is more necessary
+to him than ever. His mind, however, is likely soon to be free from
+the pain of thinking; for it is becoming gradually debauched and
+brutified--is sinking, in fact, to the lowest and most pitiable state of
+degradation. It was then, indeed, that he felt how the world deals with
+a man who leaves himself depending on it.
+
+
+[Illustration: PAGE AM1018-- They immediately expelled him]
+
+
+His friends had now all abandoned him; decent people avoided him--he
+had fallen long ago below pity, and was now an object of contempt.
+His family at home were destitute; every day brought hunger--positive,
+absolute want of food wherewith to support nature. His clothes were
+reduced to tatters; so were those of his wife and children. His frame,
+once so strong and athletic, was now wasted away to half its wonted
+size; his hands were thin, tremulous, and flesh-less; his face pale and
+emaciated; and his eye dead and stupid. He was now nearly alone in the
+world. Low and profligate as were his drunken companions, yet even they
+shunned him; and so contemptuously did they treat him, now that he was
+no longer able to pay his way, or enable the scoundrels to swill at his
+expense, that whenever he happened to enter Barney Scaddhan's tap, while
+they were in it, they immediately expelled him without ceremony, or
+Barney did it for them. He now hated home; there was nothing there for
+him, but cold, naked, shivering destitution. The furniture had gone by
+degrees for liquor; tables, chairs, kitchen utensils, bed and bedding,
+with the exception of a miserable blanket for Margaret and the child,
+had all been disposed of for about one-tenth part of their value.
+Alas, what a change is this from comfort, industry, independence, and
+respectability, to famine, wretchedness, and the utmost degradation!
+Even Margaret, whose noble heart beat so often in sympathy with the
+distresses of the poor, has scarcely any one now who will feel sympathy
+with her own. Not that she was utterly abandoned by all. Many a time
+have the neighbors, in a stealthy way, brought a little relief in the
+shape of food, to her and her children. Sorry are we to say, however,
+that there were in the town of Ballykeerin, persons whom she had herself
+formerly relieved, and with whom the world went well since, who now
+shut their eyes against her misery, and refused to assist her. Her lot,
+indeed, was now a bitter one, and required all her patience, all her
+fortitude to enable her to bear up under it. Her husband was sunk
+down to a pitiable pitch, his mind consisting, as it were, only of two
+elements, stupidity and ill-temper. Up until the disposal of all the
+furniture, he had never raised his hand to her, or gone beyond verbal
+abuse; now, however, his temper became violent and brutal. All sense
+of shame--every pretext for decency--all notions of self-respect, were
+gone, and nothing was left to sustain or check him. He could not look in
+upon himself and find one spark of decent pride, or a single principle
+left that contained the germ of his redemption. He now gave himself over
+as utterly lost, and consequently felt no scruple to stoop to any
+act, no matter how mean or contemptible. In the midst of all this
+degradation, however, there was one recollection which he never gave up;
+but alas, to what different and shameless purposes did he now prostitute
+it! That which had been in his better days a principle of just pride, a
+spur to industry, an impulse to honor, and a safeguard to integrity, had
+now become the catchword of a mendicant--the cant or slang, as it
+were, of an impostor. He was not ashamed to beg in its name--to ask
+for whiskey in its name--and to sink, in its name, to the most sordid
+supplications.
+
+"Will you stand the price of a glass? I'm Art Maguire; one of the great
+Maguires of Fermanagh! Think of the blood of the Maguires, and stand
+a glass. Barney Scaddhan won't trust me now; although many a pound and
+penny of good money I left him."
+
+"Ay," the person accosted would reply, "an' so sign's on you; you would
+be a different man to-day, had you visited Barney Scaddhan's seldomer,
+or kept out of it altogether."
+
+"It's not a sarmon I want; will you stand the price of a glass?"
+
+"Not a drop."
+
+"Go to blazes, then, if you won't. I'm a betther man than ever you
+wor, an' have betther blood in my veins. The great Fermanagh Maguires
+forever!"
+
+But, hold--we must do the unfortunate man justice. Amidst all this
+degradation, and crime, and wretchedness, there yet shone undimmed one
+solitary virtue. This was an abstract but powerful affection for his
+children, especially for his eldest son; now a fine boy about eight or
+nine. In his worst and most outrageous moods--when all other influence
+failed--when the voice of his own Margaret, whom he once loved--oh how
+well! fell heedless upon his ears--when neither Frank, nor friend, nor
+neighbor could manage nor soothe him--let but the finger of his boy
+touch him, or a tone of his voice fall upon his ear, and he placed
+himself in his hands, and did whatever the child wished him.
+
+One evening about this time, Margaret was sitting upon a small hassock
+of straw, that had been made for little Art, when he began to walk.
+It was winter, and there was no fire; a neighbor, however, had out of
+charity lent her a few dipped rushes, that they might not be in utter
+darkness. One of these was stuck against the wall, for they had no
+candlestick; and oh, what a pitiable and melancholy spectacle did
+its dim and feeble light present! There she sat, the young, virtuous,
+charitable, and lovely Margaret of the early portion of our narrative,
+surrounded by her almost naked children--herself with such thin and
+scanty covering as would wring any heart but to know it. Where now was
+her beauty? Where her mirth, cheerfulness, and all her lightness of
+heart? Where? Let her ask that husband who once loved her so well, but
+who loved his own vile excesses and headlong propensities better. There,
+however, she sat, with a tattered cap on, through the rents of which her
+raven hair, once so beautiful and glossy, came out in matted elf-locks,
+and hung down about her thin and wasted neck. Her face was pale and
+ghastly as death; her eyes were without fire--full of languor--full
+of sorrow; and alas, beneath one of them, was too visible, by its
+discoloration, the foul mark of her husband's brutality. To this had
+their love, their tenderness, their affection come; and by what? Alas!
+by the curse of liquor--the demon of drunkenness--and want of manly
+resolution. She sat, as we have said, upon the little hassock, while
+shivering on her bosom was a sickly-looking child, about a year old, to
+whom she was vainly endeavoring to communicate some of her own natural
+warmth. The others, three in number, were grouped together for the
+same reason; for poor little Atty--who, though so very young, was his
+mother's only support, and hope, and consolation--sat with an arm about
+each, in order, as well as he could, to keep off the cold--the night
+being stormy and bitter. Margaret sat rocking herself to and fro, as
+those do who indulge in sorrow, and crooning for her infant the sweet
+old air of "_Tha ma cullha's na dhuska me_," or "I am asleep and don't
+waken me!"--a tender but melancholy air, which had something peculiarly
+touching in it on the occasion in question.
+
+"Ah," she said, "I am asleep and don't waken me; if it wasn't for your
+sakes, darlins, it's I that long to be in that sleep that we will
+never waken from; but sure, lost in misery as we are, what could yez do
+without me still?"
+
+"What do you mane, mammy?" said Atty; "sure doesn't everybody that goes
+to sleep waken out of it?"
+
+
+[Illustration: PAGE AM1019-- There's a sleep that nobody wakens from]
+
+
+"No, darlin'; there's a sleep that nobody wakens from."
+
+"Dat quare sleep, mammy," said a little one. "Oh, but me's could, mammy;
+will we eva have blankets?"
+
+The question, though simple, opened up the cheerless, the terrible
+future to her view. She closed her eyes, put her hands on them, as if
+she strove to shut it out, and shivered as much at the apprehension of
+what was before her, as with the chilly blasts that swept through the
+windowless house.
+
+"I hope so, dear," she replied; "for God is good."
+
+"And will he get us blankets, mammy?".
+
+"Yes, darlin', I hope so."
+
+"Me id rady he'd get us sometin' to ait fust, mammy; I'm starvin' wid
+hungry;" and the poor child began to cry for food.
+
+The disconsolate mother was now assailed by the clamorous outcries of
+nature's first want, that of food. She surveyed her beloved little brood
+in the feeble light, and saw in all its horror the fearful impress of
+famine stamped upon their emaciated features, and strangely lighting up
+their little heavy eyes. She wrung her hands, and looking up silently to
+heaven, wept aloud for some minutes.
+
+"Childre," she said at length, "have patience, poor things, an' you'll
+soon get something to eat. I sent over Nanny Hart to my sisther's, an'
+when she comes back yell get something;--so have patience, darlins, till
+then."
+
+"But, mother," continued little Atty, who could not understand her
+allusion to the sleep from which there is no awakening; "what kind of
+sleep is it that people never waken from?"
+
+"The sleep that's in the grave, Atty, dear; death is the sleep I mean."
+
+"An' would you wish to die, mother?"
+
+"Only for your sake, Atty, and for the sake of the other darlins, if
+it was the will of God, I would; and," she added, with a feeling of
+indescribable anguish, "what have I now to live for but to see you all
+about me in misery and sorrow!"
+
+The tears as she spoke ran silently, but bitterly, down her cheeks.
+
+"When I think of what your poor lost father was," she added, "when we
+wor happy, and when he was good, and when I think of what he is now--oh,
+my God, my God," she sobbed' out, "my manly young husband, what curse
+has come over you that has brought you down to this! Curse! oh, fareer
+gair, it's a curse that's too well known in the country--it's the curse
+that laves many an industrious man's house as ours is this bitther
+night--it's the curse that takes away good name and comfort, and honesty
+(that's the only thing it has left us)--that takes away the strength of
+both body and mind--that banishes dacency and shame--that laves many a
+widow and orphan to the marcy of an unfeelin' world--that fills the
+jail and the madhouse--that brings many a man an' woman to a disgraceful
+death--an' that tempts us to the commission of every evil;--that curse,
+darlins, is whiskey--drinkin' whiskey--an' it is drinkin' whiskey that
+has left us as we are, and that has ruined your father, and destroyed
+him forever."
+
+"Well, but there's no other curse over us, mother?"
+
+The mother paused a moment--
+
+"No, darlin'," she replied; "not a curse--but my father and mother both
+died, and did not give me their blessin'; but now, Atty, don't ask me
+anything more about that, bekase I can't tell you." This she added from
+a feeling of delicacy to her unhappy husband, whom, through all his
+faults and vices, she constantly held up to her children as an object of
+respect, affection, and obedience.
+
+Again the little ones were getting importunate for food, and their cries
+were enough to touch any heart, much less that of a tender and loving
+mother. Margaret herself felt that some unusual delay must have
+occurred, or the messenger she sent to her sister must have long since
+returned; just then a foot was heard outside the door, and there was an
+impatient cessation of the cries, in the hope that it was the return
+of Nanny Hart--the door opened, and Toal Finnigan entered this wretched
+abode of sorrow and destitution.
+
+There was something peculiarly hateful about this man, but in the eyes
+of Margaret there was something intensely so. She knew right well that
+he had been the worst and most demoralizing companion her husband ever
+associated with, and she had, besides, every reason to believe that,
+were it not for his evil influence over the vain and wretched man, he
+might have overcome his fatal propensity to tipple. She had often told
+Art this; but little Toal's tongue was too sweet, when aided by his
+dupe's vanity. Many a time had she observed a devilish leer of satanic
+triumph in the misshapen little scoundrel's eye, when bringing home
+her husband in a state of beastly intoxication, and for this reason,
+independently of her knowledge of his vile and heartless disposition,
+and infamous character, she detested him. After entering, he looked
+about him, and even with the taint light of the rush she could mark that
+his unnatural and revolting features were lit up with a hellish triumph.
+
+"Well, Margaret Murray," said he, "I believe you are now nearly as badly
+off as you can be; your husband's past hope, and you are as low as a
+human bein' ever was. I'm now satisfied; you refused to marry me--you
+made a May-game of me--a laughin' stock of me, and your father tould my
+father that I had legs like reapin' hooks! Now, from the day you refused
+to marry me, I swore I'd never die till I'd have my revinge, and I have
+it; who has the laugh now, Margaret Murray?"
+
+"You say," she replied calmly, "that I am as low as a human bein' can
+be, but that's false, Toal Finnigan, for I thank God I have committed no
+crime, and my name is pure and good, which is more than any one can say
+for you; begone from my place."
+
+"I will," he replied, "but before I go jist let me tell you, that I have
+the satisfaction to know that, if I'm not much mistaken, it was I that
+was the principal means of leavin' you as you are, and your respectable
+husband as he is; so my blessin' be wid you, an that's more than your
+father left you. Raipin' hooks, indeed!"
+
+The little vile Brownie then disappeared.
+
+Margaret, the moment he was gone, immediately turned round, and going to
+her knees, leaned, with her half-cold infant still in her arms, against
+a creaking chair, and prayed with as much earnestness as a distracted
+heart permitted her. The little ones, at her desire, also knelt, and in
+a few minutes afterwards, when her drunken husband came home, he found
+his miserable family, grouped as they were in their misery, worshipping
+God in their own simple and touching manner. His entrance disturbed
+them, for Margaret knew she must go through the usual ordeal to which
+his nightly return was certain to expose her.
+
+"I want something to ait," said he.
+
+"Art, dear," she replied--and this was the worst word she ever uttered
+against him--"Art, dear, I have nothing for you till by an' by; but I
+will then."
+
+"Have you any money?"
+
+"Money, Art! oh, where would I get it? If I had money I wouldn't be
+without something' for you to eat, or the childre here that tasted
+nothin' since airly this mornin'."
+
+"Ah, you're a cursed useless wife," he replied, "you brought nothin' but
+bad luck to me an' them; but how could you bring anything else, when you
+didn't get your father's blessin'."
+
+"But, Art, don't you remember," she said meekly in reply, "you surely
+can't forget for whose sake I lost it."
+
+"Well, he's fizzin' now, the hard-hearted ould scoundrel, for keepin'
+it from you; he forgot who you wor married to, the extortin' ould
+vagabone--to one of the great Fermanagh Maguires, an' he' not fit to
+wipe their shoes. The curse o' heaven upon you an' him, wherever he is!
+It was an unlucky day to me I ever seen the face of one of you--here,
+Atty, I've some money; some strange fellow at the inn below stood to me
+for the price of a naggin, an' that blasted Barney Scaddhan wouldn't let
+me in, bekase, he said, I was a disgrace to his house, the scoundrel."
+
+"The same house was a black sight to you, Art."
+
+"Here, Atty, go off and, get me a naggin."
+
+"Wouldn't it be better for you to get something to eat, than to drink
+it, Art."
+
+"None of your prate, I say, go off an' bring me a naggin o' whiskey, an'
+don't let the grass grow under your feet."
+
+The children, whenever he came home, were awed into silence, but
+although they durst not speak, there was an impatient voracity visible
+in their poor features, and now wolfish little eyes, that was a terrible
+thing to witness. Art took the money, and went away to bring his father
+the whiskey.
+
+"What's the reason," said he, kindling into sudden fury, "that you
+didn't provide something for me to eat? Eh? What's the reason?" and
+he approached her in a menacing attitude. "You're a lazy, worthless
+vagabone. Why didn't you get me something to ait, I say? I can't stand
+this--I'm famished."
+
+"I sent to my sister's," she replied, laying-down the child; for she
+feared that if he struck her and knocked her down, with the child in
+her arms, it might be injured, probably killed, by the fall; "when the
+messenger comes back from my sister's----"
+
+"D--n yourself and your sister," he replied, striking her a blow at
+the same time upon the temple. She fell, and in an instant her face was
+deluged with blood.
+
+"Ay, lie there," he continued, "the loss of the blood will cool you.
+Hould your tongues, you devils, or I'll throw yez out of the house," he
+exclaimed to the children, who burst into an uproar of grief on seeing
+their "mammy," as they called her, lying bleeding and insensible.
+"That's to taich her not to have something for me to ait. Ay," he
+proceeded, with a hideous laugh--"ha, ha, ha! I'm a fine fellow--amn't
+I? There she lies now, and yet she was wanst Margaret Murray!--my own
+Margaret--that left them all for myself; but sure if she did, wasn't I
+one of the great Maguires of Fermanagh?--Get up, Margaret; here, I'll
+help you up, if the divil was in you!"
+
+He raised her as he spoke, and perceived that consciousness was
+returning. The first thing she did was to put up her hand to her temple,
+where she felt the warm blood. She gave him one look of profound sorrow.
+
+"Oh, Art dear," she exclaimed, "Art dear--" her voice failed her, but the
+tears flowed in torrents down her cheeks.
+
+"Margaret," said he, "you needn't spake to me that way. You know any how
+I'm damned--damned--lol de rol lol--tol de rol lol! ha, ha, ha! I have
+no hope either here or hereafther--divil a morsel of hope. Isn't that
+comfortable? eh?--ha, ha, ha"--another hideous laugh. "Well, no matter;
+we'll dhrink it out, at all events. Where's Atty, wid the whiskey? Oh,
+here he is! That's a good boy, Atty."
+
+"Oh, mammy darlin'," exclaimed the child, on seeing the blood streaming
+from her temple--"mammy darlin', what happened you?"
+
+"I fell, Atty dear," she replied, "and was cut."
+
+"That's a lie, Atty; it was I, your fine chip of a father, that struck
+her. Here's her health, at all events! I'll make one dhrink of it; hoch!
+they may talk as they like, but I'll stick to Captain Whiskey."
+
+"Father," said the child, "will you come over and lie down upon the
+straw, for your own me, for your own Atty; and then you'll fall into a
+sound sleep?"
+
+"I will, Atty, for you--for you--I will, Atty; but mind, I wouldn't do
+it for e'er another livin'."
+
+One day wid Captain Whiskey I wrastled a fall, But, t'aix, I was no
+match for the Captain at all, Though the landlady's measures they wor
+damnably small--But I'll thry him to morrow when I'm sober.
+
+"Come," said the child, "lie down here on the straw; my poor mammy says
+we'll get clane straw to-morrow; and we'll be grand then."
+
+His father, who was now getting nearly helpless, went over and threw
+himself upon some straw--thin and scanty and cold it was--or rather,
+in stooping to throw himself on it he fell with what they call in the
+country a soss; that is, he fell down in a state of utter helplessness;
+his joints feeble and weak, and all his strength utterly prostrated.
+Margaret, who in the meantime was striving to stop the effusion of blood
+from her temple, by the application of cobwebs, of which there was no
+scarcity in the house, now went over, and loosening his cravat, she got
+together some old rags, of which she formed, as well as she could, a
+pillow to support his head, in order to avoid the danger of his being
+suffocated.
+
+"Poor Art," she exclaimed, "if you knew what you did, you would cut that
+hand off you sooner than raise it to your own Margaret, as you used to
+call me. It is pity that I feel for you, Art dear, but no anger; an'
+God, who sees my heart, knows that."
+
+Now that he was settled, and her own temple bound up, the children once
+more commenced their cry of famine; for nothing can suspend the stern
+cravings of hunger, especially when fanged by the bitter consciousness
+that there is no food to be had. Just then, however, the girl returned
+from her sister's, loaded with oatmeal--a circumstance which changed the
+cry of famine into one of joy.
+
+But now, what was to be done for fire, there was none in the house.
+
+"Here is half-a-crown," said the girl, "that she sent you; but she put
+her hands acrass, and swore by the five crasses, that unless you left
+Art at wanst, they'd never give you a rap farden's worth of assistance
+agin, if you and they wor to die in the streets."
+
+"Leave him!" said Margaret; "oh never! When I took him, I took him for
+betther an' for worse, and I'm not goin' to neglect my duty to him now,
+because he's down. All the world has desarted him, but I'll never desart
+him. Whatever may happen, Art dear--poor, lost Art--whatever may happen,
+I'll live with you, beg with you, die with you; anything but desart
+you."
+
+She then, after wiping the tears which accompanied her words, sent out
+the girl, who bought some turf and milk, in order to provide a meal of
+wholesome food for the craving children.
+
+"Now," said she to the girl, "what is to be done? for if poor Art
+sees this meal in the morning, he will sell the best part of it to get
+whiskey; for I need scarcely tell you," she added, striving to palliate
+his conduct, "that he cannot do without it, however he might contrive to
+do without his breakfast." But, indeed, this was true. So thoroughly was
+he steeped in drunkenness--in the low, frequent, and insatiable appetite
+for whiskey--that, like tobacco or snuff, it became an essential portion
+of his life--a necessary-evil, without which he could scarcely exist. At
+all events, the poor children had one comfortable meal, which made them
+happy; the little stock that remained was stowed away in some nook or
+other, where Art was not likely to find it; the girl went home, and we
+were about to say that the rest of this miserable family went to bed;
+but, alas! they had no bed to go to, with the exception of a little
+straw, and a thin single blanket to cover them.
+
+If Margaret's conduct during these severe and terrible trials was not
+noble and heroic, we know not what could be called so. The affection
+which she exhibited towards her husband overcame everything. When Art
+had got about half way in his mad and profligate career, her friends
+offered to support her, if she would take refuge with them and abandon
+him; but the admirable woman received the proposal as an insult; and the
+reply she gave is much the same as the reader has heard from her lips,
+with reference to the girl's message from her sister.
+
+Subsequently, they offered to take her and the children; but this also
+she indignantly rejected. She could not leave him, she said, at the very
+time when it was so necessary that her hands should be about him. What
+might be the fate of such a man if he had none to take care of him?
+No, this almost unexampled woman, rather than desert him in such
+circumstances, voluntarily partook in all the wretchedness, destitution,
+and incredible misery which his conduct inflicted on her, and did so
+patiently, and without a murmur.
+
+In a few days after the night we have described, a man covered with
+rags, without shoe, or stocking, or shirt, having on an old hat, through
+the broken crown of which his hair, wefted with bits of straw, stood
+out, his face shrunk and pale, his beard long and filthy, and his eyes
+rayless and stupid--a man of this description, we say, with one child in
+his arms, and two more accompanying him, might be seen begging
+through the streets of Ballykeerin; yes, and often in such a state of
+drunkenness as made it frightful to witness his staggering gait, lest he
+might tumble over upon the infant, or let it fair out of his arms. This
+man was Art Maguire; to such a destiny had he come, or rather had he
+brought himself at last; Art Maguire--one of the great Maguires of
+Fermanagh!
+
+But where is she--the attached, the indomitable in love--the patient,
+the much enduring, the uncomplaining? Alas! she is at length separated
+from him and them; her throbbing veins are hot and rife with fever--her
+aching head is filled with images of despair and horror--she is calling
+for her husband--her young and manly husband--and says she will not be
+parted from him--she is also calling for her children, and demands to
+have them. The love of the mother and of the wife is now furious; but,
+thank God, the fury that stimulates it is that of disease, and not of
+insanity. The trials and privations which could not overcome her noble
+heart, overcame her physical frame, and on the day succeeding that woful
+night she was seized with a heavy fever, and through the interference
+of some respectable inhabitants of the town, was conveyed to the fever
+hospital, where she now lies in a state of delirium.
+
+And Frank Maguire--the firm, the industrious, and independent--where is
+he? Unable to bear the shame of his brother's degradation, he gave up
+his partnership, and went to America, where he now is; but not without
+having left in the hands of a friend something for his unfortunate
+brother to remember him by; and it was this timely aid which for the
+last three quarters of a year has been the sole means of keeping life in
+his brother's family.
+
+Thus have we followed Art Maguire from his youth up to the present stage
+of his life, attempting, as well as we could, to lay open to our readers
+his good principles and his bad, together with the errors and ignorances
+of those who had the first formation of his character--we mean his
+parents and family. We have endeavored to trace, with as strict an
+adherence to truth and nature as possible, the first struggles of a
+heart naturally generous and good, with the evil habit which beset him,
+as well as with the weaknesses by which that habit was set to work upon
+his temperament. Whether we have done this so clearly and naturally
+as to bring home conviction of its truth to such of our readers as may
+resemble him in the materials which formed his moral constitution, and
+consequently, to hold him up as an example to be avoided, it is not for
+ourselves to say. If our readers think so, or rather feel so, then we
+shall rest satisfied of having performed our task as we ought.
+
+Our task, however, is not accomplished. It is true, we have accompanied
+him with pain and pity to penury, rags, and beggary--unreformed,
+unrepenting, hardened, shameless, desperate. Do our readers now suppose
+that there is anything in the man, or any principle external to him,
+capable of regenerating and elevating a heart so utterly lost as his?
+
+But hush! what is this? How dark the moral clouds that have been hanging
+over the country for a period far beyond the memory of man! how black
+that dismal canopy which is only lit by fires that carry and shed around
+them disease, famine, crime, madness, bloodshed, and death. How hot,
+sultry, and enervating to the whole constitution of man, physically and
+mentally, is the atmosphere we have been breathing so long! The miasma
+of the swamp, the simoom of the desert, the merciless sirocco,
+are healthful when compared to such an atmosphere. And, hark! what
+formidable being is that who, with black expanded wings, flies about
+from place to place, and from person to person, with a cup of fire in
+his hands, which he applies to their eager lips? And what spell or
+charm lies in that burning cup, which, no sooner do they taste than they
+shout, clap their hands with exultation, and cry out, "We are happy! we
+are happy!" Hark; he proclaims himself, and shouteth still louder than
+they do; but they stop their ears, and will not listen; they shut their
+eyes and will not see. What sayeth he? "I am the Angel of Intemperance,
+Discord, and Destruction, who oppose myself to God and all his laws--to
+man, and all that has been made for his good; my delight is in misery
+and unhappiness, in crime, desolation, ruin, murder, and death in a
+thousand shapes of vice and destitution. Such I am, such I shall be, for
+behold, my dominion shall last forever!"
+
+But hush again! Look towards the south! What faint but beautiful light
+is it, which, fairer than that of the morning, gradually breaketh upon
+that dark sky? See how gently, but how steadily, its lustre enlarges
+and expands! It is not the light of the sun, nor of the moon, nor of the
+stars, neither is it the morning twilight, which heralds the approach of
+day; no, but it is the serene effulgence which precedes and accompanies
+a messenger from God, who is sent to bear a new principle of happiness
+to man! This principle is itself an angelic spirit, and lo! how the sky
+brightens, and the darkness flees away like a guilty thing before it!
+Behold it on the verge of the horizon, which is now glowing with the
+rosy hues of heaven--it advances, it proclaims its mission:--hark!
+
+"I am the Angel of Temperance, of Industry, of Peace! who oppose myself
+to the Spirit of Evil and all his laws--I am the friend of man, and
+conduct him to the true enjoyment of all that has been made for his
+good. My mission is to banish misery, unhappiness, and crime, to save
+mankind from desolation, ruin, murder, and death, in a thousand shapes
+of vice and destitution."
+
+And now see how he advances in beauty and power, attended by knowledge,
+health, and truth, while the harmonies of domestic life, of civil
+concord, and social duty, accompany him, and make music in his path. But
+where is the angel of intemperance, discord, and destruction? Hideous
+monster, behold him! No longer great nor terrible, he flies, or rather
+totters, from before his serene opponent--he shudders--he stutters and
+hiccups in his howlings--his limbs are tremulous--his hands shake as
+if with palsy--his eye is lustreless and bloodshot, and his ghastly
+countenance the exponent of death. He flies, but not unaccompanied;
+along with him are crime, poverty, hunger, idleness, his music the groan
+of the murderer, the clanking of the madman's chain, filled up by the
+report of the suicide's pistol, and the horrible yell of despair! And
+now he and his evil spirits are gone, the moral atmosphere is bright and
+unclouded, and the Angel of Temperance, Industry, and Peace goes abroad
+throughout the land, fulfilling his beneficent mission, and diffusing
+his own virtues into the hearts of a regenerated people!
+
+Leaving allegory, however, to the poets, it is impossible that, treating
+of the subject which we have selected, we could, without seeming to
+undervalue it, neglect to say a few words upon the most extraordinary
+moral phenomenon, which, apart from the miraculous, the world ever saw;
+we allude to the wonderful Temperance Movement, as it is called, which,
+under the guiding hand of the Almighty, owes its visible power and
+progress to the zeal and incredible exertions of one pious and humble
+man--the Very Rev. Theobald Matthew, of Cork. When we consider the
+general, the proverbial character, which our countrymen have, during
+centuries, borne for love of drink, and their undeniable habits of
+intemperance, we cannot but feel that the change which has taken place
+is, indeed, surprising, to say the least of it. But, in addition to
+this, when we also consider the natural temperament of the Irishman--his
+social disposition--his wit, his humor, and his affection--all of which
+are lit up by liquor--when we just reflect upon the exhilaration of
+spirits produced by it--when we think upon the poverty, the distress,
+and the misery which too generally constitute his wretched lot, and
+which it will enable him, for a moment, to forget--and when we remember
+that all his bargains were made over it--that he courted his sweetheart
+over it--got married over it--wept for his dead over it--and generally
+fought his enemy of another faction, or the Orangeman of another creed,
+when under its influence:--when we pause over all these considerations,
+we can see how many temptations our countrymen had to overcome in
+renouncing it as they did; and we cannot help looking at it as a moral
+miracle, utterly without parallel in the history of man.
+
+Now we are willing to give all possible credit, and praise, and honor to
+Father Matthew; but we do not hesitate to say, that even he would have
+failed in being, as he is, the great visible exponent of this admirable
+principle, unless there had been other kindred principles in the
+Irishman's heart, which recognized and clung to it. In other words it is
+unquestionable, that had the religious and moral feelings of the Irish
+people been neglected, the principle of temperance would never have
+taken such deep root in the heart of the nation as it has done. Nay, it
+could not; for does not every man of common sense know, that good moral
+principles seldom grow in a bad moral soil, until it is cultivated for
+their reception. It is, therefore, certainly a proof that the Roman
+Catholic priesthood of Ireland had not neglected the religious
+principles of the people. It may, I know, and it has been called a
+superstitious contagion; but however that may be, so long as we have
+such contagions among us, we will readily pardon the superstition. Let
+superstition always assume a shape of such beneficence and virtue to
+man, and we shall not quarrel with her for retaining the name. Such a
+contagion could never be found among any people in whom there did not
+exist predisposing qualities, ready to embrace and nurture the good
+which came with it.
+
+Our argument, we know, may be met by saying that its chief influence was
+exerted on those whose habits of dissipation, immorality, and irreligion
+kept, them aloof from the religious instruction of the priest. But to
+those who know the Irish heart, it is not necessary to say that many
+a man addicted to drink is far from being free from the impressions of
+religion, or uninfluenced by many a generous and noble virtue. Neither
+does it follow that every such man has been neglected by his priest, or
+left unadmonished of the consequences which attended his evil habit.
+But how did it happen, according to that argument, that it was this
+very class of persons--the habitual, or the frequent, or the occasional
+drunkard--that first welcomed the spirit of temperance, and availed
+themselves of its blessings? If there had not been the buried seeds of
+neglected instruction lying in their hearts, it is very improbable that
+they would have welcomed and embraced the principle as they did. On the
+other hand, it is much more likely that they would have fled from,
+and avoided a spirit which deprived them of the gratification of their
+ruling and darling passion. Evil and good, we know, do not so readily
+associate.
+
+Be this, however, as it may, we have only to state, in continuation
+of our narrative, that at the period of Art Maguire's most lamentable
+degradation, and while his admirable but unhappy wife was stretched upon
+the burning bed of fever, the far low sounds of the Temperance Movement
+were heard, and the pale but pure dawn of its distant light seen
+at Ballykeerin. That a singular and novel spirit accompanied it, is
+certain; and that it went about touching and healing with all the power
+of an angel, is a matter not of history, but of direct knowledge and
+immediate recollection. Nothing, indeed, was ever witnessed in any
+country similar to it. Whereever it went, joy, acclamation, ecstasy
+accompanied it; together with a sense of moral liberty, of perfect
+freedom from the restraint, as it were, of some familiar devil, that had
+kept its victims in its damnable bondage. Those who had sunk exhausted
+before the terrible Molpch of Intemperance, and given themselves over
+for lost, could now perceive that there was an ally at hand, that was
+able to bring them succor, and drag them back from degradation and
+despair, to peace and independence, from contempt and infamy, to respect
+and praise. Nor was this all. It was not merely into the heart of the
+sot and drunkard that it carried a refreshing consciousness of joy and
+deliverance, but into all those hearts which his criminal indulgence had
+filled with heaviness and sorrow. It had, to be sure, its dark side
+to some--ay, to thousands. Those who lived by the vices
+--the low indulgences and the ruinous excesses--of their
+fellow-creatures--trembled and became aghast at its approach. The vulgar
+and dishonest publican, who sold a _bona fide_ poison under a false
+name; the low tavern-keeper; the proprietor of the dram-shop; of the
+night-house; and the shebeen--all were struck with terror and dismay.
+Their occupation was doomed to go. No more in the dishonest avarice of
+gain where they to coax and jest with the foolish tradesman, until they
+confirmed him in the depraved habit, and led him on, at his own expense,
+and their profit, step by step, until the naked and shivering sot, now
+utterly ruined, was kicked out, like Art Maguire, to make room for those
+who were to tread in his steps, and share his fate.
+
+No more was the purity and inexperience of youth to be corrupted by evil
+society, artfully introduced for the sordid purpose of making him spend
+his money, at the expense of health, honesty, and good name.
+
+No more was the decent wife of the spendthrift tradesman, when forced by
+stern necessity, and the cries of her children, to seek her husband in
+the public house, of a Saturday night, anxious as she was to secure what
+was left unspent of his week's wages, in order to procure to-morrow's
+food--no more was she to be wheedled into the bar, to get the landlord's
+or the landlady's treat, in order that the outworks of temperance, and
+the principles of industry, perhaps of virtue, might be gradually broken
+down, for the selfish and diabolical purpose of enabling her drunken
+husband to spend a double share of his hardly-earned pittance.
+
+Nor more was the male servant, in whom every confidence was placed, to
+be lured into these vile dens of infamy, that he might be fleeced or his
+money, tutored into debauchery or dishonesty, or thrown into the society
+of thieves and robbers, that he might become an accomplice in their
+crimes, and enable them to rob his employer with safety. No more was the
+female servant, on the other hand, to be made familiar with tippling,
+or corrupted by evil company, until she became a worthless and degraded
+creature, driven out of society, without reputation or means of
+subsistence, and forced to sink to that last loathsome alternative of
+profligacy which sends her, after a short and wicked course, to the
+jeering experiments of the dissecting-room.
+
+Oh, no; those wretches who lived by depravity, debauchery, and
+corruption, were alarmed almost into distraction by the approach
+of temperance, for they knew it would cut off the sources of their
+iniquitous gains, and strip them of the vile means of propagating
+dishonesty and vice, by which they lived. But even this wretched class
+were not without instances of great disinterestedness and virtue;
+several of them closed their debasing establishments, forfeited their
+ill-gotten means of living, and trusting to honesty and legitimate
+industry, voluntarily assumed the badge of temperance, and joined its
+peaceful and triumphant standard!
+
+Previous to this time, however, and, indeed, long before the joyful
+sounds of its advancing motion were heard from afar, it is not to be
+taken for granted that the drunkards of the parish of Ballykeerin Avere
+left to the headlong impulses of their own evil propensities. Before Art
+Maguire had fallen from his integrity and good name, there had not been
+a more regular attendant at mass, or at his Easter and Christmas
+duties, in the whole parish; in this respect he was a pattern, as Father
+Costelloe, the priest, often said, to all who were anxious to lead a
+decent and creditable life, forgetting their duty neither to God nor
+man. A consciousness of his fall, however, made him ashamed in the
+beginning to appear at mass, until he should decidedly reform, which he
+proposed and resolved to do, or thought he resolved, from week to week,
+and from day to day. How he wrought out these resolutions our readers
+know too well; every day and every week only made him worse and worse,
+until by degrees all thought of God, or prayer, or priest, abandoned
+him, and he was left to swelter in misery among the very dregs of
+his prevailing vice, hardened and obdurate. Many an admonition has he
+received from Father Costelloe, especially before he become hopeless,
+and many a time, when acknowledging his own inability to follow up his
+purposes of amendment, has he been told by that good and Christian man,
+that he must have recourse to better and higher means of support, and
+remember that God will not withhold his grace from those who ask it
+sincerely and aright. Art, however, could not do so, for although he had
+transient awakenings of conscience, that were acute while they lasted,
+yet he could not look up to God with a thorough and heartfelt resolution
+of permanent reformation. The love of liquor, and the disinclination to
+give it up, still lurked in his heart, and prevented him from setting
+about his amendment in earnest. If they had not, he would have taken a
+second oath, as his brother Frank often advised him to do, but without
+effect. He still hoped to be able to practise moderation, and drink
+within bounds, and consequently persuaded himself that total abstinence
+was not necessary in his case. At length Father Costelloe, like all
+those who were deeply anxious for his reformation, was looked upon as
+an unwelcome adviser, whose Christian exhortations to a better course of
+life were anything but agreeable, because he spoke truth; and so strong
+did this feeling grow in him, that in his worst moments he would rather
+sink into the earth than meet him: nay, a glimpse of him at any distance
+was sure to make the unfortunate man hide himself in some hole or corner
+until the other had passed, and all danger of coming under his reproof
+was over. Art was still begging with his children, when, after a long
+and dangerous illness, it pleased God to restore his wife to him and
+them. So much pity, and interest, and respect did she excite during
+her convalescence--for it was impossible that her virtues, even in the
+lowest depths of her misery, could be altogether unknown--that the heads
+of the hospital humanely proposed to give her some kind of situation in
+it, as soon as she should regain sufficient strength to undertake its
+duties. The mother's love, however, still prompted her to rejoin her
+children, feeling as she did, and as she said, how doubly necessary now
+her care and attention to them must be. She at length yielded to their
+remonstrances, when they assured her that to return in her present weak
+condition to her cold and desolate house, and the utter want of all
+comfort which was to be found in it, might, and, in all probability,
+would, be fatal to her; and that by thus exposing herself too soon to
+the consequences of cold and destitution, she might leave her children
+motherless. This argument prevailed, but in the meantime she stipulated
+that her children and her husband, if the latter were in a state of
+sufficient sobriety, should be permitted occasionally to see her, that
+she might inquire into their situation, and know how they lived. This
+was acceded to, and, by the aid of care and nourishing food, she soon
+found herself beginning to regain her strength.
+
+In the meantime the Temperance movement was rapidly and triumphantly
+approaching. In a town about fifteen miles distant there was a meeting
+advertised to be held, at which the great apostle himself was to
+administer the pledge; Father Costelloe announced it from the altar, and
+earnestly recommended his parishioners to attend, and enrol themselves
+under the blessed banner of Temperance, the sober man as well as the
+drunkard.
+
+"It may be said," he observed, "that sober men have no necessity for
+taking the pledge; and if one were certain that every sober man was
+to remain sober during his whole life, there would not, indeed, be a
+necessity for sober men to take it; but, alas! my friends, you know how
+subject we are to those snares, and pitfalls, and temptations of life
+by which our paths are continually beset. Who can say to-day that he
+may not transgress the bounds of temperance before this day week? Your
+condition in life is surrounded by inducements to drink. You scarcely
+buy or sell a domestic animal in fair or market, that you are not
+tempted to drink; you cannot attend a neighbor's funeral that you are
+not tempted to drink--'tis the same at the wedding and the christening,
+and in almost all the transactions of your lives. How then can you
+answer for yourselves, especially when your spirits may happen to be
+elevated, and your hearts glad? Oh! it is then, my friends, that the
+tempter approaches you, and probably implants in your unguarded hearts
+the germ of that accursed habit which has destroyed millions. How often
+have you heard it said of many men, even within the range of your own
+knowledge, 'Ah, he was an industrious, well-conducted, and respectable
+man--until he took to drink!' Does not the prevalence of such a vile
+habit, and the fact that so many sober men fall away from that virtue,
+render the words that I have just uttered a melancholy proverb in the
+country? Ah, there he is--in rags and misery; yet he was an industrious,
+well-conducted, and respectable man once, that is--before he took to
+drink! Prevention, my dear friends, is always better than cure, and in
+binding yourselves by this most salutary obligation, you know not how
+much calamity and suffering--how much general misery--how much disgrace
+and crime you may avoid. And, besides, are we not to look beyond this
+world? Is a crime which so greatly depraves the heart, and deadens its
+power of receiving the wholesome impressions of religion and truth, not
+one which involves our future happiness or misery? Ah, my dear brethren,
+it is indeed a great and a cross popular error to say that sober men
+should not take this pledge. I hope I have satisfied you that it is a
+duty they owe themselves to take it, so long as they feel that they are
+frail creatures, and liable to sin and error; and not only themselves,
+but their children, their friends, and all who might be affected, either
+for better or worse, by their example.
+
+"There is another argument, however, which I cannot overlook, while
+dwelling upon this important subject. We know that the drunkard, if God
+should, through the instrumentality of this great and glorious movement,
+put the wish for amendment into his heart, still feels checked and
+deterred by a sense of shame; because, the truth is, if none attended
+these meetings but such men, that very fact alone would prove a great
+obstruction in the way of their reformation. Many, too many, are
+drunkards; but every man is not an open drunkard, and hundreds, nay,
+thousands, would say, 'By attending these meetings of drunken men, I
+acknowledge myself to be a drunkard also;' hence they will probably
+decline going through shame, and consequently miss the opportunity of
+retrieving themselves. Now, I say, my friends, it is the duty of sober
+men to deprive them of this argument, and by an act, which, after all,
+involves nothing of self-denial, but still an act of great generosity,
+to enable them to enter into this wholesome obligation, without being
+openly exposed to the consequences of having acknowledged that they were
+intemperate."
+
+He then announced the time and place of the meeting, which was in the
+neighboring town of Drumnabrogue, and concluded by again exhorting
+them all, without distinction, to attend it and take the pledge. His
+exhortations were not without effect; many of his parishioners did
+attend, and among them some of Art's former dissolute companions.
+
+Art himself, when spoken to, and pressed to go, hiccuped and laughed
+at the notion of any such pledge reforming him; a strong proof that
+all hope of recovering himself, or of regaining his freedom from
+drunkenness, had long ago deserted him. This, if anything further was
+necessary to do so, completed the scene of his moral prostration and
+infamy. Margaret, who was still in the hospital, now sought to avail
+herself of the opportunity which presented itself, by reasoning with,
+and urging him to go, but, like all others, her arguments were laughed
+at, and Art expressed contempt for her, Father Matthew, and all the
+meetings that had yet taken place.
+
+"Will takin' the pledge," he asked her, "put a shirt to my back, a thing
+I almost forget the use of, or a good coat? Will it put a dacent house
+over my head, a good bed under me, and a warm pair of blankets on us to
+keep us from shiverin', an' coughin', an' barkin' the whole night long
+in the could?
+
+"No, faith, I'll not give up the whiskey, for it has one comfort, it
+makes me sleep in defiance o' wind and weather; it's the only friend I
+have left now--it's my shirt--its my coat--my shoes and stockin's--my
+house--my blankets--my coach--my carriage--it makes me a nobleman, a
+lord; but, anyhow, sure I'm as good, ay, by the mortual, and better,
+for amn't I one of the great Maguires of Fermanagh! Whish, the ou--ould
+blood forever, and to the divil wid their meetins!"
+
+"Art," said his wife, "I believe if you took the pledge that it would
+give you all you say, and more; for it would bring you back the respect
+and good-will of the people, that you've long lost."
+
+"To the divil wid the people! I'll tell you what, if takin' the pledge
+reforms Mechil Gam, the crooked disciple that he is, or Tom Whiskey,
+mind--mind me--I say if it reforms them, or young Barney Scaddhan, thin
+you may spake up for it, an' may be, I'll listen to you."
+
+At length the meeting took place, and the three men alluded to by Art,
+attended it as they said they would; each returned home with his pledge;
+they rose up the next morning, and on that night went to bed sober.
+This was repeated day after day, week after week, month after month, and
+still nothing characterized them but sobriety, peace, and industry.
+
+Unfortunately, so far as Art Maguire was concerned, it was out of his
+power, as it was out of that of hundreds, to derive any benefit from
+the example which some of his old hard-drinking associates had so
+unexpectedly set both him and them. No meeting had since occurred within
+seventy or eighty miles of Ballykeerin, and yet the contagion of good
+example had spread through that and the adjoining parishes in a manner
+that was without precedent. In fact, the people murmured, became
+impatient, and, ere long, demanded from their respective pastors
+that another meeting should be held, to afford them an opportunity of
+publicly receiving the pledge; and for that purpose they besought the
+Rev. gentlemen to ask Father Matthew to visit Ballykeerin. This wish
+was complied with, and Father Matthew consented, though at considerable
+inconvenience to himself, and appointed a day for the purpose specified.
+This was about three or four months after the meeting that was held in
+the neighboring town already alluded to.
+
+For the last six weeks Margaret had been able to discharge the duties of
+an humble situation in the hospital, on the condition that she should
+at least once a day see her children. Poor as was the situation in
+question, it enabled her to contribute much more to their comfort, than
+she could if she had resided with them, or, in other words, begged with
+them; for to that, had she returned home, it must have come; and, as the
+winter was excessively severe, this would have killed her, enfeebled as
+she had been by a long and oppressive fever. Her own good sense taught
+her to see this, and the destitution of her children and husband--to
+feel it. In this condition then were they--depending on the scanty aid
+which her poor exertions could afford them, eked out by the miserable
+pittance that he extorted as a beggar--when the intelligence arrived
+that the great Apostle of Temperance had appointed a day on which to
+hold a teetotal meeting in the town of Ballykeerin.
+
+It is utterly unaccountable how the approach of Father Matthew, and of
+these great meetings, stirred society into a state of such extraordinary
+activity, not only in behalf of temperance, but also of many other
+virtues; so true is it, that when one healthy association is struck it
+awakens all those that are kindred to it into new life. In addition to a
+love of sobriety, the people felt their hearts touched, as it were, by
+a new spirit, into kindness and charity, and a disposition to discharge
+promptly and with good-will all brotherly and neighborly offices.
+Harmony, therefore, civil, social, and domestic, accompanied the
+temperance movement wherever it went, and accompanies it still wherever
+it goes; for, like every true blessing, it never comes alone, but brings
+several others in its train.
+
+The morning in question, though cold, was dry and bright; a small
+platform had been raised at the edge of the market-house, which was open
+on one side, and on it Father Matthew was to stand. By this simple means
+he would be protected from rain, should any fall, and was sufficiently
+accessible to prevent any extraordinary crush among the postulants.
+But how will we attempt to describe the appearance which the town of
+Ballykeerin presented on the morning of this memorable and auspicious
+day? And above all, in what terms shall we paint the surprise, the
+wonder, the astonishment with which they listened to the music of the
+teetotal band, which, as if by magic, had been formed in the town of
+Drumnabogue, where, only a few months before, the meeting of which we
+have spoken had been held. Indeed, among all the proofs of national
+advantages which the temperance movement has brought out, we are not to
+forget those which it has bestowed on the country--by teaching us what
+a wonderful capacity for music, and what a remarkable degree of
+intellectual power, the lower classes of our countrymen are endowed
+with, and can manifest when moved by adequate principles. Early as
+daybreak the roads leading to Ballykeerin presented a living stream of
+people listening onwards towards the great rendezvous; but so much
+did they differ in their aspect from almost any other assemblage of
+Irishmen, that, to a person ignorant of their purpose, it would be
+difficult, if not impossible, to guess the cause, not that moved them in
+such multitudes towards the same direction, but that marked them by such
+peculiar characteristics. We have seen Irishmen and Irishwomen going to
+a country race in the summer months, when labor there was none; we
+have seen them going to meetings of festivity and amusement of all
+descriptions;--to fairs, to weddings, to dances--but we must confess,
+that notwithstanding all our experience and intercourse with them, we
+never witnessed anything at all resembling their manner and bearing on
+this occasion. There was undoubtedly upon them, and among them, all the
+delightful enjoyment of a festival spirit; they were easy, cheerful,
+agreeable, and social; but, in addition to this, there was clearly
+visible an expression of feeling that was new even to themselves, as
+well as to the spectators. But how shall we characterize this feeling?
+It was certainly not at variance with the cheerfulness which they felt,
+but, at the same time, it shed over it a serene solemnity of manner
+which communicated a moral grandeur to the whole proceeding that fell
+little short of sublimity. This was a principle of simple virtue upon
+which all were equal; but it was more than that, it was at once a
+manifestation of humility, and an exertion of faith in the aid and
+support of the Almighty, by whose grace those earnest but humble people
+felt and trusted that they would be supported. And who can say that
+their simplicity of heart--their unaffected humility, and their firmness
+of faith have not been amply rewarded, and triumphantly confirmed by the
+steadfastness with which they have been, with extremely few exceptions,
+faithful to their pledge.
+
+About nine o'clock the town of Ballykeerin was crowded with a multitude
+such as had never certainly met in it before. All, from the rustic
+middle classes down, were there. The crowd was, indeed, immense, yet,
+notwithstanding their numbers, one could easily mark the peculiar class
+for whose sake principally the meeting had been called together.
+
+There was the red-faced farmer of substance, whose sunburnt cheeks, and
+red side-neck, were scorched into a color that disputed its healthy hue
+with the deeper purple tint of strong and abundant drink.
+
+"Such a man," an acute observer would say, "eats well, and drinks well,
+but is very likely to pop off some day, without a minute's warning, or
+saying good-by to his friends."
+
+Again, there was the pale and emaciated drunkard, whose feeble and
+tottering gait, and trembling hands, were sufficiently indicative of his
+broken-down constitution, and probably of his anxiety to be enabled to
+make some compensation to the world, or some provision on the part of
+his own soul, to balance the consequences of an ill-spent life, during
+which morals were laughed at, and health destroyed.
+
+There was also the healthy-looking drunkard of small means, who, had he
+been in circumstances to do so, would have gone to bed drunk every night
+in the year. He is not able, from the narrowness of his circumstances,
+to drink himself into apoplexy on the one hand, or debility on the
+other; but he is able, notwithstanding, to drink the clothes off his
+back, and the consequence is, that he stands before you as ragged,
+able-bodied, and thumping a specimen of ebriety as you could wish to
+see during a week's journey. There were, in fact, the vestiges of
+drunkenness in all their repulsive features, and unhealthy variety.
+
+There stood the grog-drinker with his blotched face in full flower, his
+eye glazed in his head, and his protuberant paunch projecting over his
+shrunk and diminished limbs.
+
+The tippling tradesman too was there, pale and sickly-looking, his thin
+and over-worn garments evidently insufficient to keep out the chill of
+morning, and prevent him from shivering every now and then, as if he
+were afflicted with the ague.
+
+In another direction might be seen the servant out of place, known by
+the natty knot of his white cravat, as well as by the smartness with
+which he wears his dress, buttoned up as it is, and coaxed about him
+with all the ingenuity which experience and necessity bring to the aid
+of vanity. His napeless hat is severely brushed in order to give the
+subsoil an appearance of the nap which is gone, but it won't do; every
+one sees that his intention is excellent, were it possible for address
+and industry to work it out. This is not the case, however, and the hat
+is consequently a clear exponent of his principles and position, taste
+and skill while he was sober--vain pride and trying poverty now in his
+drunkenness.
+
+The reckless-looking sailor was also there (but with a serious air now),
+who, having been discharged for drunkenness, and refused employment
+everywhere else, for the same reason, was obliged to return home, and
+remain a burden upon his friends. He, too, has caught this healthy
+epidemic, and the consequence is, that he will once more gain
+employment, for the production of his medal will be accepted as a
+welcome proof of his reformation.
+
+And there was there, what was better still, the unfortunate female, the
+victim of passion and profligacy, conscious of her past life, and almost
+ashamed in the open day to look around her. Poor thing! how her heart,
+that was once innocent and pure, now trembles within a bosom where
+there is awakened many a painful recollection of early youth, and the
+happiness of home, before that unfortunate night, when, thrown off
+her guard by accursed liquor, she ceased to rank among the pure and
+virtuous. Yes, all these, and a much greater variety, were here actuated
+by the noble resolution to abandon forever the evil courses, the vices,
+and the profligacy into which they were first driven by the effects of
+drink.
+
+The crowd was, indeed, immense, many having come a distance of twenty,
+thirty, some forty, and not a few fifty miles, in order to free
+themselves, by this simple process, from the influence of the
+destructive habit which either was leading, or had led them, to ruin.
+Of course it is not to be supposed that among such a vast multitude
+of people there were not, as there always is, a great number of those
+vagabond impostors who go about from place to place, for the purpose of
+extorting charity from the simple and credulous, especially when under
+the influence of liquor. All this class hated the temperance movement,
+because they knew right well that sobriety in the people was there
+greatest enemy; the lame, the blind, the maimed, the deaf, and the dumb,
+were there in strong muster, and with their characteristic ingenuity
+did everything in their power, under the pretence of zeal and religious
+enthusiasm, to throw discredit upon the whole proceedings. It was this
+vile crew, who, by having recourse to the aid of mock miracles, fancied
+they could turn the matter into derision and contempt, and who, by
+affecting to be cured of their complaints, with a view of having
+their own imposture, when detected, imputed to want of power in Father
+Matthew;--it was this vile crew, we say, that first circulated the
+notion that he could perform miracles. Unfortunately, many of the
+ignorant among the people did in the beginning believe that he possessed
+this power, until he himself, with his characteristic candor, disclaimed
+it. For a short time the idea of this slightly injured the cause, and
+afforded to its enemies some silly and senseless arguments, which, in
+lieu of better, they were glad to bring against it.
+
+At length Father Matthew, accompanied by several other clergymen and
+gentlemen, made his appearance on the platform; then was the rush, the
+stretching of necks, and the bitter crushing, accompanied by devices
+and manoeuvres of all kinds, to catch a glimpse of him. The windows were
+crowded by the more respectable classes, who were eager to witness the
+effects of this great and sober enthusiasm among the lower classes. The
+proceedings, however, were very simple. He first addressed them in
+a plain and appropriate discourse, admirably displaying the very
+description of eloquence which was best adapted to his auditory. This
+being concluded, he commenced distributing the medal, for which every
+one who received it, gave a shilling, the latter at the same time
+repeating the following words: "I promise, so long as I shall continue
+a member of the Teetotal Temperance Society, to abstain from all
+intoxicating liquors, unless recommended for medical purposes, and to
+discourage by all means in my power the practice of intoxication in
+others." Father Matthew then said, "May God bless you, and enable you to
+keep your promise!"
+
+Such was the simple ceremony by which millions have been rescued from
+those terrible evils that have so long cursed and afflicted society in
+this country.
+
+In this large concourse there stood one individual, who presented in his
+person such symptoms of a low, grovelling, and unremitting indulgence in
+drink, as were strikingly observable even amidst the mass of misery and
+wretchedness that was there congregated. It is rarely, even in a life,
+that an object in human shape, encompassed and pervaded by so many of
+the fearful results of habitual drunkenness, comes beneath observation.
+Sometimes we may see it in a great city, when we feel puzzled, by the
+almost total absence of reason in the countenance, to know whether the
+utter indifference to nakedness and the elements, be the consequence of
+drunken destitution, or pure idiocy. To this questionable appearance had
+the individual we speak of come. The day was now nearly past, and the
+crowd had considerably diminished, when this man, approaching Father
+Matthew, knelt down, and clasping his skeleton hands, exclaimed--
+
+"Father, I'm afeard I cannot trust myself."
+
+"Who can?" said Father Matthew; "it is not in yourself you are to place
+confidence, but in God, who will support you, and grant you strength, if
+you ask for it sincerely and humbly."
+
+These words, uttered in tones of true Christian charity, gave comfort to
+the doubting heart of the miserable creature, who said--
+
+"I would wish to take the pledge, if I had money; but I doubt it's too
+late--too late for me! Oh, if I thought it wasn't!"
+
+"It's never too late to repent," replied the other, "or to return from
+evil to good. If you feel your heart inclined to the right I course, do
+not let want of money prevent you from pledging yourself to sobriety and
+temperance."
+
+"In God's name, then, I will take it," he replied; and immediately
+repeated the simple words which constitute the necessary form.
+
+"May God bless you," said Father Matthew, placing his hand on his head,
+"and enable you to keep your promise!"
+
+This man, our readers already guess, was Art Maguire.
+
+Having thus taken the medal, and pledged himself to sobriety, and a
+total abstinence from all intoxicating liquors, his first feeling was
+very difficult to describe. Father Matthew's words, though few and
+brief, had sunk deep into his heart, and penetrated his whole spirit.
+He had been for many a long day the jest and jibe of all who knew him;
+because they looked upon his recovery as a hopeless thing, and spoke to
+him accordingly in a tone of contempt and scorn--a lesson to us that we
+never should deal harshly with the miserable. Nor, however, he had been
+addressed in accents of kindness, and in a voice that proclaimed an
+interest in his welfare. This, as we said, added to the impressive
+spirit that prevailed around, touched him, and he hurried home.
+
+On reaching his almost empty house, he found Margaret and the children
+there before him; she having come to see how the poor things fared--but
+being quite ignorant of what had just taken place with regard to her
+husband.
+
+"Art," said she, with her usual affectionate manner; "you will want
+something to eat; for if you're not hungry, your looks! belie you very
+much. I have brought something for you and these creatures."
+
+Art looked at her, then at their children, then at the utter desolation
+of the house, and spreading his two hands over his face, he wept aloud.
+This was repentance. Margaret in exceeding surprise, rose and approached
+him:--
+
+"Art dear," she said, "in the name of God, what's the matter?"
+
+"Maybe my father's sick, mother," said little Atty; "sure, father, if
+you are, I an' the rest will go out ourselves, an' you can stay at home;
+but we needn't go this day, for my mammy brought us as much as will put
+us over it."
+
+To neither the mother nor child did he make any reply; but wept on and
+sobbed as if his heart would break.
+
+"Oh my God, my God," he exclaimed bitterly, "what have I brought you to,
+my darlin' wife and childre, that I loved a thousand times betther than
+my own heart? Oh, what have I brought you to?"
+
+"Art," said his wife, and her eye kindled, "in the name of the heavenly
+God, is this sorrow for the life you led?"
+
+"Ah, Margaret darlin'," he said, still sobbing; "it's long since I ought
+to a felt it; but how can I look back on that woful life? Oh my God, my
+God! what have I done, an' what have I brought on you!"
+
+"Art," she said, "say to me that you're sorry for it; only let my ears
+hear you saying the words."
+
+"Oh, Margaret dear," he sobbed, "from my heart--from the core of my
+unhappy heart--I am sorry--sorry for it all."
+
+"Then there's hope," she exclaimed, clasping her hands, and looking up
+to heaven, "there is hope--for him--for him--for us all! Oh my heart,"
+she exclaimed, quickly, "what is this?" and she scarcely uttered the
+words, when she sank upon the ground insensible--sudden joy being
+sometimes as dangerous as sudden grief.
+
+Art, who now forgot his own sorrow in apprehension for her, raised her
+up, assisted by little Atty, who, as did the rest of the children, cried
+bitterly, on seeing his mother's eyes shut, her arms hanging lifelessly
+by her side, and herself without motion. Water, however, was brought
+by Atty; her face sprinkled, and a little put to her lips, and with
+difficulty down her throat. At length she gave a long deep-drawn sigh,
+and opening her eyes, she looked tenderly into her husband's face--
+
+"Art dear," she said, in a feeble voice, "did I hear it right? And you
+said you were sorry?"
+
+"From my heart I am, Margaret dear," he replied; "oh, if you knew what I
+feel this minute!"
+
+She looked on him again, and her pale face was lit up with a smile of
+almost ineffable happiness.
+
+"Kiss me," said she; "we are both young yet, Art dear, and we will gain
+our lost ground wanst more."
+
+While she spoke, the tears of delight fell in torrents down her cheeks.
+Art kissed her tenderly, and immediately pulling out the medal, showed
+it to her.
+
+She took the medal, and after looking at it, and reading the
+inscription--
+
+"Well, Art," she said, "you never broke your oath--that's one comfort."
+
+"No," he replied; "nor I'll never break this; if I do," he added
+fervently, and impetuously, "may God mark me out for misery and
+misfortune!"
+
+"Whisht, dear," she replied; "don't give way to these curses--they sarve
+no purpose, Art. But I'm so happy this day!"
+
+"An' is my father never to be drunk any more, mammy?" asked the little
+ones, joyfully; "an he'll never be angry wid you, nor bate you any
+more?"
+
+"Whisht, darlins," she exclaimed; "don't be spakin' about that; sure
+your poor father never beat me, only when he didn't know what he was
+doin'. Never mention it again, one of you."
+
+"Ah, Margaret," said Art, now thoroughly awakened, "what recompense can
+I ever make you, for the treatment I gave you? Oh, how can I think of
+it, or look back upon it?"
+
+His voice almost failed him, as he uttered the last words; but his
+affectionate wife stooped and kissing away the tears from his cheeks,
+said--
+
+"Don't, Art dear; sure this now is not a time to cry;" and yet her own
+tears were flowing;--"isn't our own love come back to us? won't we now
+have peace? won't we get industrious, and be respected again?"
+
+"Ah, Margaret darling," he replied, "your love never left you; so don't
+put yourself in; but as for me--oh, what have I done? and what have I
+brought you to?"
+
+"Well, now, thanks be to the Almighty, all's right. Here's something for
+you to ait; you must want it."
+
+"But," he replied, "did these poor crathurs get anything? bekase if they
+didn't, I'll taste nothin' till they do."
+
+"They did indeed," said Margaret; and all the little ones came joyfully
+about him, to assure him that they had been fed, and were not hungry.
+
+The first feeling Art now experienced on going abroad was shame--a
+deep and overwhelming sense of shame; shame at the meanness of his past
+conduct--shame at his miserable and unsightly appearance--shame at all
+he had done, and at all he had left undone. What course now, however,
+was he to adopt? Being no longer stupified and besotted by liquor, into
+a state partly apathetic, partly drunken, and wholly shameless, he could
+not bear the notion of resuming his habits of mendicancy. The decent but
+not the empty and senseless, pride of his family was now reawakened in
+him, and he felt, besides, that labor and occupation were absolutely
+necessary to enable him to bear up against the incessant craving which
+he felt for the pernicious stimulant. So strongly did this beset him,
+that he suffered severely from frequent attacks of tremor and sensations
+that resembled fits of incipient distraction. Nothing, therefore,
+remained for him but close employment, that would keep both mind and
+body engaged.
+
+When the fact of his having taken the pledge became generally known,
+it excited less astonishment than a person might imagine; in truth, the
+astonishment would have been greater, had he refused to take it at all,
+so predominant and full of enthusiasm was the spirit of temperance at
+that period. One feeling, however, prevailed with respect to him, which
+was, that privation of his favorite stimulant would kill him--that his
+physical system, already so much exhausted and enfeebled, would, break
+down---and that poor Art would soon go the way of all drunkards.
+
+On the third evening after he had taken the pledge, he went down to the
+man who had succeeded himself in his trade, and who, by the way, had
+been formerly one of his own journeymen, of the very men who, while he
+was running his career of dissipation, refused to flatter his vanity,
+or make one in his excesses, and who was, moreover, one of the very
+individuals he had dismissed. To this man he went, and thus accosted
+him--his name was Owen Gallagher.
+
+"Owen," said he, "I trust in God that I have gained a great victory of
+late."
+
+The man understood him perfectly well, and replied--
+
+"I hope so, Art; I hear you have taken the pledge."
+
+"Belyin' on God's help, I have."
+
+"Well," replied Owen, "you couldn't rely on betther help."
+
+"No," said Art, "I know I could not; but, Owen, I ran a wild and a
+terrible race of it--I'm grieved an' shamed to think--even to think of
+it."
+
+"An' that's a good sign, Art, there couldn't be betther; for unless a
+man's heart is sorry for his faults, and ashamed of them too, it's not
+likely he'll give them over."
+
+"I can't bear to walk the streets," continued Art, "nor to rise my head;
+but still something must be done for the poor wife and childre."
+
+"Ah, Art," replied Owen, "that is the wife! The goold of Europe isn't
+value for her; an' that's what every one knows."
+
+"But who knows it, an' feels it as I do?" said Art, "or who has the
+right either? howandiver, as I said, something must be done; Owen, will
+you venture to give me employment? I know I'm in bad trim to come into a
+dacent workshop, but you know necessity has no law;--it isn't my clo'es
+that will work, but myself; an', indeed, if you do employ me, it's not
+much I'll be able to do this many a day; but the truth is, if I don't
+get something to keep me busy, I doubt I won't be able to stand against
+what I feel both in my mind and body."
+
+These words were uttered with such an air of deep sorrow and perfect
+sincerity as affected Gallagher very much.
+
+"Art," said he, "there was no man so great a gainer by the unfortunate
+coorse you tuck as I was, for you know I came into the best part of your
+business; God forbid then that I should refuse you work, especially as
+you have turned over a new lafe;--or to lend you a helpin' hand either,
+now that I know it will do you and your family good, and won't go to the
+public-house. Come wid me."
+
+He took down his hat as he spoke, and brought Art up to one of
+those general shops that are to be found in every country town like
+Ballykeerin.
+
+"Mr. Trimble," said he, "Art Maguire wants a plain substantial suit o'
+clothes, that will be chape an' wear well, an' I'll be accountable for
+them; Art, sir, has taken the pledge, an' is goin' to turn over a new
+lafe, an' be as he wanst was, I hope."
+
+"And there is no man," said the worthy shopkeeper, "in the town of
+Ballykeerin that felt more satisfaction than I did when I heard he had
+taken it. I know what he wants, and what you want for him, and he shall
+have it both cheap and good."
+
+Such was the respect paid to those who nobly resolved to overcome their
+besetting sin of drink, and its consequent poverty or profligacy,
+that the knowledge alone that they had taken the pledge, gained them
+immediate good-will, as it was entitled to do. This, to be sure, was in
+Art's favor; but there was about him, independently of this, a serious
+spirit of awakened resolution and sincerity which carried immediate
+conviction along with it.
+
+"This little matter," said the honest carpenter, with natural
+consideration for Art, "will, of coorse, rest between you an' me, Mr.
+Trimble."
+
+"I understand your feeling, Owen," said he, "and I can't but admire it;
+it does honor to your heart."
+
+"Hut," said Gallagher, "it's nothin'; sure it's jist what Art would do
+for myself, if we wor to change places."
+
+Thus it is with the world, and ever will be so, till human nature
+changes. Art had taken the first step towards his reformation, and Owen
+felt that he was sincere; this step, therefore, even slight as it was,
+sufficed to satisfy his old friend that he would be safe in aiding him.
+Gallagher's generosity, however, did not stop here; the assistance which
+he gave Art, though a matter of secrecy between themselves, was soon
+visible in Art's appearance, and that of his poor family. Good fortune,
+however, did not stop here; in about a week after this, when Art was
+plainly but comfortably dressed, and working with Gallagher, feeble as
+he was, upon journeyman's wages, there came a letter from his brother
+Frank, enclosing ten pounds for the use of his wife and children. It
+was directed to a friend in Ballykeerin, who was instructed to apply it
+according to his own discretion, and the wants of his family, only by
+no means to permit a single shilling of it to reach his hands, unless on
+the condition that he had altogether given up liquor. This seemed to Art
+like a proof that God had rewarded him for the step he had taken; in
+a few weeks it was wonderful how much comfort he and his family had
+contrived to get about them. Margaret was a most admirable manager,
+and a great economist, and with her domestic knowledge and good sense,
+things went on beyond their hopes.
+
+Art again was up early and down late--for his strength, by the aid of
+wholesome and regular food, and an easy mind, was fast returning to
+him--although we must add here, that he never regained the healthy and
+powerful constitution which he had lost. His reputation, too, was fast
+returning; many a friendly salutation he received from those, who,
+in his degradation, would pass him by with either ridicule or solemn
+contempt.
+
+Nothing in this world teaches a man such well-remembered lessons of
+life as severe experience. Art, although far, very far removed from his
+former independence, yet, perhaps, might be said never to have enjoyed
+so much peace of mind, or so strong a sense of comfort, as he did now in
+his humble place with his family. The contrast between his past misery,
+and the present limited independence which he enjoyed, if it could
+be called independence, filled his heart with a more vivid feeling of
+thankfulness than he had ever known. He had now a bed to sleep on,
+with _bona fide_ blankets--he had a chair to sit on--a fire on his
+hearth--and food, though plain, to eat; so had his wife, so had his
+children; he had also very passable clothes to his back, that kept him
+warm and comfortable, and prevented him from shivering like a reed in
+the blast; so had his wife, and so had his children. But he had more
+than this, for he had health, a good conscience, and a returning
+reputation. People now addressed him as an equal, as a man, as an
+individual who constituted a portion of society; then, again, he loved
+his wife as before, and lived with her in a spirit of affection equal to
+any they had ever felt. Why, this was, to a man who suffered what he and
+his family had suffered, perfect luxury.
+
+In truth, Art now wondered at the life he had led,--he could not
+understand it; why he should have suffered himself, for the sake of
+a vile and questionable enjoyment--if enjoyment that could be called,
+which was no enjoyment--at least for the sake of a demoralizing and
+degrading habit, to fall down under the feet as it were, under the
+evil tongues, and the sneers--of those who constituted his world--the
+inhabitants of Ballykeerin--was now, that he had got rid of the
+thraldom, perfectly a mystery to him. Be this as it may, since he had
+regenerated his own character, the world was just as ready to take him
+up as it had been to lay him down.
+
+Nothing in life gives a man such an inclination for active industry as
+to find that he is prospering; he has then heart and spirits to work,
+and does work blithely and cheerfully; so was it with Art. He and his
+employer were admirably adapted for each other, both being extremely
+well-tempered, honest, and first-rate workmen. About the expiration of
+the first twelve months, Art had begun to excite a good deal of interest
+in the town of Ballykeerin, an interest which was beginning to affect
+Owen Gallagher himself in a beneficial way. He was now pointed out to
+strangers as the man, who, almost naked, used to stand drunk and begging
+upon the bridge of Ballykeerin, surrounded by his starving and equally
+naked children. In fact, he began to get a name, quite a reputation for
+the triumph which he had achieved over drunkenness; and on this account
+Owen Gallagher, when it was generally known in the country that Art
+worked with him, found his business so rapidly extending, that he was
+obliged, from time to time, to increase the number of hands in his
+establishment. Art felt this, and being now aware that his position in
+life was, in fact, more favorable for industrious exertion than ever,
+resolved to give up journey work, and once more, if only for the
+novelty of the thing, to set up for himself. Owen Gallagher, on hearing
+this from his own lips, said he could not, nor would not blame him, but,
+he added--
+
+"I'll tell you what we can do, Art--come into partnership wid me, for I
+think as we're gettin' an so well together, it 'ud be a pity, almost a
+sin, to part; join me, and I'll give you one-third of the business,"--by
+which he meant the profits of it.
+
+"Begad," replied Art, laughing, "it's as much for the novelty of the
+thing I'm doin' it as any thing else; I think it 'ud be like a dhrame to
+me, if I was to find myself and my family as we wor before." And so they
+parted.
+
+It is unnecessary here to repeat what we have already detailed
+concerning the progress of his early prosperity; it is sufficient, we
+trust, to tell our readers that he rose into rapid independence, and
+that he owed all his success to the victory that he had obtained over
+himself. His name was now far and near, and so popular had he become,
+that no teetotaller would employ any other carpenter. This, at length,
+began to make him proud, and to feel that his having given up drink,
+instead of being simply a duty to himself and his family, was altogether
+an act of great voluntary virtue on his part.
+
+"Few men," he said, "would do it, an' may be, afther all, if I hadn't
+the ould blood in my veins--if I wasn't one of the great Fermanagh
+Maguires, I would never a' done it."
+
+He was now not only a vehement Teetotaller, but an unsparing enemy to
+all who drank even in moderation; so much so, indeed, that whenever
+a man came to get work done with him, the first question he asked him
+was--"Are you a Teetotaller?" If the man answered "No," his reply was,
+"Well, I'm sorry for that, bekase I couldn't wid a safe conscience do
+your work; but you can go to Owen Gallagher, and he will do it for you
+as well as any man livin'."
+
+This, to be sure, was the abuse of the principle; but we all know that
+the best things may be abused. He was, in fact, outrageous in defence of
+Teetotalism; attended all its meetings; subscribed for Band-money; and
+was by far the most active member in the whole town of Ballykeerin. It
+was not simply that he forgot his former poverty; he forgot himself.
+At every procession he was to be seen, mounted on a spanking horse,
+ridiculously over-dressed--the man, we mean, not the horse--flaunting
+with ribands, and quite puffed up at the position to which he had raised
+himself.
+
+This certainly was not the humble and thankful feeling with which he
+ought to have borne his prosperity. The truth, however, was, that Art,
+in all this parade, was not in the beginning acting upon those broad,
+open principles of honesty, which, in the transactions of business, had
+characterized his whole life. He was now influenced by his foibles--by
+his vanity--and by his ridiculous love of praise. Nor, perhaps, would
+these have been called into action, were it not through the intervention
+of his old friend and pot companion, Toal Finnigan. Toal, be it known
+to the reader, the moment he heard that Art had become a Teetotaller,
+immediately became one himself, and by this means their intimacy was
+once more renewed; that is to say, they spoke in friendly terms whenever
+they met--but no entreaty or persuasion could ever induce Toal to enter
+Art's house; and the reader need not be told why. At all events, Toal,
+soon after he joined it, put himself forward in the Teetotal Movement
+with such prominence, that Art, who did not wish to be outdone in
+anything, began to get jealous of him. Hence his ridiculous exhibitions
+of himself in every manner that could attract notice, or throw
+little Toal into the shade; and hence also the still more senseless
+determination not to work for any but a Teetotaller; for in this,
+too, Toal had set him the example. Toal, the knave, on becoming a
+Teetotaller, immediately resolved to turn it to account; but Art,
+provided he could show off, and cut a conspicuous figure in a
+procession, had no dishonest motive in what he did; and this was
+the difference between them. For instance, on going up the town of
+Ballykeerin, you might see over the door of a middle-sized house,
+"Teetotal Meal Shop. N. B.--None but Teetotallers need come here."
+
+Now every one knew Toal too well not to understand this; for the truth
+is, that maugre his sign, he never refused his meal or other goods to
+any one that had money to pay for them.
+
+One evening about this time, Art was seated in his own parlor--for he
+now had a parlor, and was in a state of prosperity far beyond anything
+he had ever experienced before--Margaret and the children were with him;
+and as he smoked his pipe, he could not help making an observation or
+two upon the wonderful change which so short a time had brought about.
+
+"Well, Margaret," said he, "isn't this wondherful, dear? look at the
+comfort we have now about us, and think of--; but troth I don't like to
+think of it at all."
+
+"I never can," she replied, "without a troubled and a sinkin' heart;
+but, Art, don't you remember when I wanst wished you to become a
+Teetotaller, the answer you made me?"
+
+"May be I do; what was it?"
+
+"Why, you axed me--and you were makin' game of it at the time--whether
+Teetotallism would put a shirt or a coat to your back--a house over your
+head--give you a bed to lie on, or blankets to keep you and the childre
+from shiverin', an' coughin', an' barkin' in the could of the night?
+Don't you remember sayin' this?"
+
+"I think I do; ay, I remember something about it now. Didn't I say that
+whiskey was my coach an' my carriage, an' that it made me a lord?"
+
+"You did; well, now what do you say? Hasn't Teetotallism bate you in
+your own argument? Hasn't it given you a shirt an' a coat to your back,
+a good bed to lie on, a house over your head? In short, now, Art, hasn't
+it given you all you said, an' more than ever you expected? eh, now?"
+
+"I give in, Margaret--you have me there; but," he proceeded, "it's not
+every man could pull himself up as I did; eh?"
+
+"Oh, for God's sake, Art, don't begin to put any trust in your own mere
+strength, nor don't be boasting of what you did, the way you do; sure,
+we ought always to be very humble and thankful to God for what he has
+done for us; is there anything comes to us only through him?"
+
+"I'm takin' no pride to myself," said Art, "divil a taste; but this I
+know, talk as you will, there's always somethin' in the ould blood."
+
+"Now, Art," she replied, smiling, "do you know I could answer you on
+that subject if I liked?"
+
+"You could," said Art; "come, then, let us hear your answer--come
+now--ha, ha, ha!"
+
+She became grave, but complacent, as she spoke. "Well, then, Art," said
+she, "where was the ould blood when you fell so low? If it was the ould
+blood that riz you up, remember it was the ould blood that put you down.
+You drank more whiskey," she added, "upon the head of the ould blood
+of Ireland, and the great Fermanagh Maguires, than you did on all other
+subjects put together. No, Art dear, let us not trust to ould blood or
+young blood, but let us trust to the grace o' God, an' ax it from our
+hearts out."
+
+"Well, but arn't we in great comfort now?"
+
+"We are," she replied, "thank the Giver of all good for it; may God
+continue it to us, and grant it to last!"
+
+"Last! why wouldn't it last, woman alive? Well, begad, after all, 'tis
+not every other man, any way--"
+
+"Whisht, now," said Margaret, interrupting him, "you're beginnin' to
+praise yourself."
+
+"Well, I won't then; I'm going down the town to have a glass or two o'
+cordial wid young Tom Whiskey, in Barney Scaddhan's."
+
+"Art," she replied, somewhat solemnly, "the very name of Barney Scaddhan
+sickens me. I know we ought to forgive every one, as we hope to be
+forgiven ourselves; but still, Art, if I was in your shoes, the sorra
+foot ever I'd put inside his door. Think of the way he trated you; ah,
+Art acushla, where's the pride of the ould blood now?"
+
+"Hut, woman, divil a one o' me ever could keep in bad feelin' to any
+one. Troth, Barney of late's as civil a crature as there's alive; sure
+what you spake of was all my own fault and not his; I'll be back in an
+hour or so."
+
+"Well," said his wife, "there's one thing, Art, that every one knows."
+
+"What is that, Margaret?"
+
+"Why, that a man's never safe in bad company."
+
+"But sure, what harm can they do me, when we drink nothing that can
+injure us?"
+
+"Well, then," said she, "as that's the case, can't you as well stay with
+good company as bad?"
+
+"I'll not be away more than an hour."
+
+"Then, since you will go, Art, listen to me; you'll be apt to meet Toal
+Finnigan there; now, as you love me and your childre, an' as you wish
+to avoid evil and misfortune, don't do any one thing that he proposes to
+you: I've often tould you that he's your bitterest enemy."
+
+"I know you did; but sure, wanst a woman takes a pick (pique) aginst a
+man she'll never forgive him. In about an hour mind." He then went out.
+
+The fact is, that some few of those who began to feel irksome under the
+Obligation--by which I mean the knaves and hypocrites, for it is not
+to be supposed that among such an incredible multitude as joined the
+movement there were none of this description--some few, I say, were in
+the habit of resorting to Barney Scaddhan's for the social purpose of
+taking a glass of the true Teetotal cordial together. This drinking of
+cordial was most earnestly promoted by the class of low and dishonest
+publicans whom we have already described, and no wonder that it was so;
+in the first place, it's sale is more profitable than that of whiskey
+itself, and, in the second place, these fellows know by experience that
+it is the worst enemy that teetolism has, very few having ever strongly
+addicted themselves to cordial, who do not ultimately break the pledge,
+and resume the use of intoxicating liquor. This fact was well known at
+the time, for Father Costelloe, who did every thing that man could do to
+extend and confirm the principle of temperance, had put his parishioners
+on their guard against the use of this deleterious trash. Consequently,
+very few of the Ballykeerin men, either in town or parish, would taste
+it; when they stood in need of anything to quench their thirst, or
+nourish them, they confined themselves to water, milk, or coffee.
+Scarcely any one, therefore, with the exception of the knaves and
+hypocrites, tampered with themselves by drinking it.
+
+The crew whom Art went to meet on the night in question consisted of
+about half a dozen, who, when they had been in the habit of drinking
+whiskey, were hardened and unprincipled men--profligates in every
+sense--fellows that, like Toal Finnigan, now adhered to teetotalism from
+sordid motives only, or, in other words, because they thought they
+could improve their business by it. It is true, they were suspected
+and avoided by the honest teetotallers, who wondered very much that Art
+Maguire, after the treatment he had formerly received at their hands,
+should be mean enough, they said, ever "to be hail fellow well met" with
+them again. But Art, alas! in spite of all his dignity of old blood, and
+his rodomontade about the Fermanagh Maguires, was utterly deficient in
+that decent pride which makes a man respect himself, and prevents him
+from committing a mean action.
+
+For a considerable time before his arrival, there were assembled in
+Barney Scaddhan's tap, Tom Whiskey, Jerry Shannon, Jack Mooney, Toal
+Finnigan, and the decoy duck, young Barney Scaddhan himself, who merely
+became a teetotaller that he might be able to lure his brethren in to
+spend their money in drinking cordial.
+
+"I wondher Art's not here before now," observed Tom Whiskey; "blood
+alive, didn't he get on well afther joinin' the 'totallers?"
+
+"Faix, it's a miracle," replied Jerry Shannon, "there's not a more
+'spbnsible man in Ballykeerin, he has quite a Protestant look;--ha, ha,
+ha!"
+
+"Divil a sich a pest ever this house had as the same Art when he was a
+blackguard," said young Scaddhan; "there was no keepin' him out of it,
+but constantly spungin' upon the dacent people that wor dhrmkin' in it."
+
+"Many a good pound and penny he left you for all that, Barney, my lad,"
+said Mooney; "and purty tratement you gave him when his money was gone."
+
+"Ay, an' we'd give you the same," returned Scaddhan, "if your's was
+gone, too; ha, ha, ha! it's not moneyless vagabones we want here."
+
+"No," said Shannon, "you first make them moneyless vagabones, an' then
+you kick them out o' doors, as you did him."
+
+"Exactly," said the hardened miscreant, "that's the way we live; when we
+get the skin off the cat, then we throw out the carcass."
+
+"Why, dang it, man," said Whiskey, "would you expect honest Barney here,
+or his still honester ould rip of a father, bad as they are, to give us
+drink for nothing?"
+
+"Now," said Finnigan, who had not yet spoken, "yez are talkin' about Art
+Maguire, and I'll tell yez what I could do; I could bend my finger that
+way, an' make him folly me over the parish."
+
+"And how could you do that?" asked Whiskey.
+
+"By soodherin' him--by ticklin' his empty pride--by dwellin' on the ould
+blood of Ireland, the great Fermanagh Maguires--or by tellin' him that
+he's betther than any one else, and could do what nobody else could."
+
+"Could you make him drunk to-night?" asked Shannon.
+
+"Ay," said Toal, "an' will, too, as ever you seen him in your lives; only
+whin I'm praisin' him do some of you oppose me, an' if I propose any
+thing to be done, do you all either support me in it, or go aginst me,
+accordin' as you see he may take it."
+
+"Well, then," said Mooney, "in ordher to put you in spirits, go off,
+Barney, an' slip a glass o' whiskey a piece into this cordial, jist to
+tighten it a bit--ha, ha, ha!"
+
+"Ay," said Tom Whiskey, "till we dhrink success to teetotalism, ha, ha,
+ha!"
+
+"Suppose you do him in the cordial," said Shannon.
+
+"Never mind," replied Toal; "I'll first soften him a little on the
+cordial, and then make him tip the punch openly and before faces, like a
+man."
+
+"Troth, it's a sin," observed Moonoy, who began to disrelish the
+project; "if it was only on account of his wife an' childre."
+
+Toal twisted his misshapen mouth into still greater deformity at this
+observation--
+
+"Well," said he, "no matter, it'll only be a good joke; Art is a dacent
+fellow, and afther this night we won't repate it. Maybe," he continued
+"I may find it necessary to vex him, an' if I do, remember you won't let
+him get at me, or my bread's baked."
+
+This they all promised, and the words were scarcely concluded, when Art
+entered and joined them. As a great portion of their conversation did
+not bear upon the subject matter of this narrative, it is therefore
+unnecessary to record it. After about two hours, during which Art had
+unconsciously drunk at least three glasses of whiskey, disguised in
+cordial, the topic artfully introduced by Toal was the Temperance
+Movement.
+
+"As for my part," said he, "I'm half ashamed that I ever joined it. As I
+was never drunk, where was the use of it? Besides, it's an unmanly thing
+for any one to have it to say that he's not able to keep himself sober,
+barrin' he takes an oath, or the pledge."
+
+"And why did you take it then?" said Art.
+
+"Bekaise I was a fool," replied Toal; "devil a thing else."
+
+"It's many a good man's case," observed Art in reply, "to take an oath
+against liquor, or a pledge aither, an' no disparagement to any man that
+does it."
+
+"He's a betther man that can keep himself sober widout it," said Toal
+dryly.
+
+"What do you mane by a betther man?" asked Art, somewhat significantly;
+"let us hear that first, Toal."
+
+"Don't be talking' about betther men here," said Jerry Shannon; "I tell
+you, Toal, there's a man in this room, and when you get me a betther
+man in the town of Ballykeerin, I'll take a glass of punch wid you, or a
+pair o' them, in spite of all the pledges in Europe!"
+
+"And who is that, Jerry," said Toal.
+
+"There he sits," replied Jerry, putting his extended palm upon Art's
+shoulder and clapping it.
+
+"May the divil fly away wid you," replied Toal; "did you think me a
+manus, that I'd go to put Art Maguire wid any man that I know? Art
+Maguire indeed! Now, Jerry, my throoper, do you think I'm come to this
+time o' day, not to know that there's no man in Ballykeerin, or the
+parish it stands in--an' that's a bigger word--that could be called a
+betther man that Art Maguire?"
+
+"Come, boys," said Art, "none of your nonsense. Sich as I am, be the
+same good or bad, I'll stand the next trate, an' devilish fine strong
+cordial it is."
+
+"Why, then, I don't think myself it's so good," replied young Scaddhan;
+"troth it's waiker than we usually have it; an' the taste somehow isn't
+exactly to my plaisin'."
+
+"Very well," said Art; "if you have any that 'ill plaise yourself
+betther, get it; but in the mane time bring us a round o' this, an'
+we'll be satisfied."
+
+"Art Maguire," Toal proceeded, "you were ever and always a man out o'
+the common coorse."
+
+"Now, Toal, you're beginnin'," said Art; "ha, ha, ha--well, any way, how
+is that!"
+
+"Bekaise the divil a taste o' fear or terror ever was in your
+constitution. When Art, boys, was at school--sure he an' I wor
+schoolfellows--if he tuck a thing into his head, no matter what, jist
+out of a whim, he'd do it, if the divil was at the back door, or the
+whole world goin' to stop him."
+
+"Throth, Toal, I must say there's a great deal o' thruth in that. Divil
+a one livin' knows me betther than Toal Finigan, sure enough, boys."
+
+"Arra, Art, do you remember the day you crossed the weir, below Tom
+Booth's," pursued Toal, "when the river was up, and the wather jist
+intherin' your mouth?"
+
+"That was the day Peggy Booth fainted, when she thought I was gone;
+begad, an' I was near it."
+
+"The very day."
+
+"That may be all thrue enough," observed Tom Whiskey; "still I think
+I know Art this many a year, and I can't say I ever seen any of these
+great doing's. I jist seen him as aisy put from a thing, and as much
+afeard of the tongues of the nabors, or of the world, as another."
+
+"He never cared a damn for either o' them, for all that," returned
+Toal; "that is, mind, if he tuck a thing into his head; ay, an' I'll go
+farther--divil a rap ever he cared for them, one way or other. No, the
+man has no fear of any kind in him."
+
+"Why, Toal," said Mooney, "whether he cares for them or not, I think is
+aisily decided; and whether he's the great man you make him. Let us hear
+what he says himself upon it, and then we'll know."
+
+"Very well, then," replied Toal; "what do you say yourself, Art? Am I
+right, or am I wrong?"
+
+"You're right, Toal, sure enough; if it went to that, I don't care a
+curse about the world, or all Ballykeerin along wid it. I've a good
+business, and can set the world at defiance. If the people didn't want
+me, they wouldn't come to me."
+
+"Come, Toal," said Jerry; "here--I'll hould you a pound note"--and lie
+pulled out one as he spoke--"that I'll propose a thing he won't do."
+
+"Aha--thank you for nothing, my customer--I won't take that bait,"
+replied the other; "but listen--is it a thing that he can do?"
+
+"It is," replied Jerry; "and what's more, every man in the room can do
+it, as well as Art, if he wishes."
+
+"He can?"
+
+"He can."
+
+"Here," said Toal, clapping down his pound. "Jack Mooney, put these in
+your pocket till this matther's decided. Now, Jerry, let us hear it."
+
+"I will;--he won't drink two tumblers of punch, runnin'; that is, one
+afther the other."
+
+"No," observed Art, "I will not; do you want me to break the pledge?"
+
+"Sure," said Jerry, "this is not breaking the pledge--it's only for a
+wager."
+
+"No matther," said Art; "it's a thing I won't do."
+
+"I'll tell you what, Jerry," said Toal, "I'll hould you another pound
+now, that I do a thing to-night that Art won't do; an' that, like your
+own wager, every one in the room can do."
+
+"Done," said the other, taking out the pound note, and placing it in
+Mooney's hand--Toal following his example.
+
+"Scaddhan," said Toal, "go an' bring me two tumblers of good strong
+punch. I'm a Totaller as well as Art, boys. Be off, Scaddhan."
+
+"By Japers," said Tom Whiskey, as if to himself--looking at the same
+time as if he were perfectly amazed at the circumstance--"the little
+fellow has more spunk than Maguire, ould blood an' all! Oh, holy Moses;
+afther that, what will the world come to!"
+
+Art heard the soliloquy of Whiskey, and looked about him with an air of
+peculiar meaning. His pride--his shallow, weak, contemptible pride, was
+up, while the honest pride that is never separated from firmness and
+integrity, was cast aside and forgotten. Scaddhan came in, and placing
+the two tumblers before Toal, that worthy immediately emptied first one
+of them, and then the other.
+
+"The last two pounds are yours," said Jerry; "Mooney, give them to him."
+
+Art, whose heart was still smarting under the artful soliloquy of Tom
+Whiskey, now started to his feet, and exclaimed--
+
+"No, Jerry, the money's not his yet. Barney, bring in two tumblers. What
+one may do another may do; and as Jerry says, why it's only for a wager.
+At any rate, for one o' my blood was never done out, and never will."
+
+"By Japers," said Whiskey, "I knew he wouldn't let himself be bate. I
+knew when it came to the push he wouldn't."
+
+"Well, Barney," said Toal, "don't make them strong for him, for they
+might get into his head; he hasn't a good head anyway--let them be
+rather wake, Barney."
+
+"No," said Art, "let them be as strong as his, and stronger, Barney; and
+lose no time about it."
+
+"I had better color them," said Barney, "an' the people about the place
+'ll think it's cordial still."
+
+"Color the devil," replied Art; "put no colorin' on them. Do you think
+I'm afeard of any one, or any colors?"
+
+"You afeard of any one," exclaimed Tom Whiskey; "one o' the ould
+Maguires afeard! ha, ha, ha!--that 'ud be good!"
+
+Art, when the tumblers came in, drank off first one, which he had no
+sooner emptied, than he shivered into pieces against the grate; he then
+emptied the other, which shared the same fate.
+
+"Now," said he to Barney, "bring me a third one; I'll let yez see what a
+Maguire is."
+
+The third, on making its appearance, was immediately drained, and
+shivered like the others--for the consciousness of acting-wrong, in
+spite of his own resolution, almost drove him mad. Of what occurred
+subsequently in the public house, it is not necessary to give any
+account, especially as we must follow Art home--simply premising, before
+we do so, that the fact of "Art Maguire having broken the pledge," had
+been known that very night to almost all Ballykeerin--thanks to the
+industry of Toal Finnigan, and his other friends.
+
+His unhappy wife, after their conversation that evening, experienced one
+of those strange, unaccountable presentiments or impressions which every
+one, more or less, has frequently felt. Until lately, he had not often
+gone out at night, because it was not until lately that the clique began
+to reassemble in Barney Scaddhan's. 'Tis true the feeling on her part
+was involuntary, but on that very account it was the more distressing;
+her principal apprehension of danger to him was occasioned by his
+intimacy with Toal Finnigan, who, in spite of all her warnings and
+admonitions, contrived, by the sweetness of his tongue, to hold his
+ground with him, and maintain his good opinion. Indeed, any one who
+could flatter, wheedle, and play upon his vanity successfully, was
+sure to do this; but nobody could do it with such adroitness as Toal
+Finnigan.
+
+It is wonderful how impressions are caught by the young from those who
+are older and have more experience than themselves. Little Atty, who had
+heard the conversation already detailed, begged his mammy not to send
+him to bed that night until his father would come home, especially
+as Mat Mulrennan, an in-door apprentice, who had been permitted that
+evening to go to see his family, had not returned, and he wished, he
+said, to sit up and let him in. The mother was rather satisfied than
+otherwise, that the boy should sit up with her, especially as all the
+other children and the servants had gone to bed.
+
+"Mammy," said the boy, "isn't it a great comfort for us to be as we are
+now, and to know that my father can never get drunk again?"
+
+"It is indeed, Atty;" and yet she said so; with a doubting, if not an
+apprehensive heart.
+
+"He'll never beat you more, mammy, now?"
+
+"No, darlin'; nor he never did, barrin' when he didn't know what he was
+doin'."
+
+"That is when he was drunk, mammy?"
+
+"Yes, Atty dear."
+
+"Well, isn't it a great thing that he can never get drunk any more,
+mammy; and never beat you any more; and isn't it curious too, how he
+never bate me?"
+
+"You, darlin'? oh, no, he would rather cut his arm off than rise it to
+you, Atty dear; and it's well that you are so good a boy as you are--for
+I'm afeard, Atty, that even if you deserved to be corrected, he wouldn't
+do it."
+
+"But what 'ud we all do widout my father, mammy? If anything happened to
+him I think I'd die. I'd like to die if he was to go."
+
+"Why, darlin'?"
+
+"Bekase, you know, he'd go to heaven, and I'd like to be wid him; sure
+he'd miss me--his own Atty--wherever he'd be."
+
+"And so you'd lave me and your sisters, Atty, and go to heaven with your
+father!"
+
+The boy seemed perplexed; he looked affectionately at his mother, and
+said--
+
+"No, mammy, I wouldn't wish to lave you, for then you'd have no son at
+all; no, I wouldn't lave you--I don't know what I'd do--I'd like to stay
+wid you, and I'd like to go wid him, I'd--"
+
+"Well, darlin', you won't be put to that trial this many a long day, I
+hope."
+
+Just then voices were heard at the door, which both recognized as those
+of Art and Mat Mulrennan the apprentice.
+
+"Now, darlin'," said the mother, who observed that the child was pale
+and drowsy-looking, "you may go to bed, I see you are sleepy, Atty, not
+bein' accustomed to sit up so late; kiss me, an' good-night." He then
+kissed her, and sought the room where he slept.
+
+Margaret, after the boy had gone, listened a moment, and became deadly
+pale, but she uttered no exclamation; on the contrary, she set her
+teeth, and compressed her lips closely together, put her hand on the
+upper part of her forehead, and rose to go to the door. She was not yet
+certain, but a dreadful terror was over her--Could it be possible that
+he was drunk?--she opened it, and the next moment her husband, in a
+state of wild intoxication, different from any in which she had ever
+seen him, come in. He was furious, but his fury appeared to have been
+directed against the apprentice, in consequence of having returned home
+so late.
+
+On witnessing with her own eyes the condition in which he returned, all
+her presentiments flashed on her, and her heart sank down into a state
+of instant hopelessness and misery.
+
+"Savior of the world!" she exclaimed, "I and my childre are lost; now,
+indeed, are we hopeless--oh, never till now, never till now!" She wept
+bitterly.
+
+"What are you cryin' for now?" said he; "what are you cryin' for, I
+say?" he repeated, stamping his feet madly as he spoke; "stop at wanst,
+I'll have no cry--cryin' what--at--somever."
+
+She instantly dried her eyes.
+
+"Wha--what kep that blasted whelp, Mul--Mulrennan, out till now, I say?"
+
+"I don't know indeed, Art."
+
+"You--you don't! you kno--know noth-in'; An' now I'll have a smash, by
+the--the holy man, I'll--I'll smash every thing in--in the house."
+
+He then took up a chair, which, by one blow against the floor, he
+crashed to pieces.
+
+"Now," said he, "tha--that's number one; whe--where's that whelp,
+Mul--Mulrennan, till I pay--pay him for stayin' out so--so late. Send
+him here, send the ska-min' sco--scoundrel here, I bid you.". Margaret,
+naturally dreading violence, went to get little Atty to pacify him, as
+well as to intercede for the apprentice; she immediately returned, and
+told him the latter was coming. Art, in the mean time, stood a little
+beyond the fireplace, with a small beach chair in his hand which he had
+made for Atty, when the boy was only a couple of years old, but which
+had been given to the other children in succession. He had been first
+about to break it also, but on looking at it, he paused and said--
+
+"Not this--this is Atty's, and I won't break it."
+
+At that moment Mulrennan entered the room, with Atty behind him, but
+he had scarcely done so, when Art with all his strength flung the hard
+beach chair at his head; the lad, naturally anxious to avoid it, started
+to one side out of its way, and Atty, while in the act of stretching out
+his arms to run to his father, received the blow which had been designed
+for the other. It struck him a little above the temple, and he fell,
+but was not cut. The mother, on witnessing the act, raised her arms and
+shrieked, but on hearing the heavy, but dull and terrible sound of the
+blow against the poor boy's head, the shriek was suspended when half
+uttered, and she stood, her arms still stretched out, and bent a little
+upwards, as if she would have supplicated heaven to avert it;--her mouth
+was half open--her eyes apparently enlarged, and starting as if it
+were out of their sockets; there she stood--for a short time so full
+of horror as to be incapable properly of comprehending what had taken
+place. At length this momentary paralysis of thought passed away, and
+with all the tender terrors of affection awakened in her heart, she
+rushed to the insensible boy. Oh, heavy and miserable night! What pen
+can portray, what language describe, or what imagination conceive, the
+anguish, the agony of that loving mother, when, on raising her sweet,
+and beautiful, and most affectionate boy from the ground whereon he lay,
+that fair head, with its flaxen locks like silk, fell utterly helpless
+now to this side, and now to that!
+
+"Art Maguire," she said, "fly, fly,"--and she gave him one look; but,
+great God! what an object presented itself to her at that moment. A man
+stood before her absolutely hideous with horror; his face but a minute
+ago so healthy and high-colored, now ghastly as that of a corpse, his
+hands held up and clenched, his eyes frightful, his lips drawn back,
+and his teeth locked with strong and convulsive agony. He uttered not
+a word, but stood with his wild and gleaming eyes riveted, as if by the
+force of some awful spell, upon his insensible son, his only one, if he
+was then even that. All at once he fell down without sense or motion,
+as if a bullet had gone through his heart or his brain, and there lay as
+insensible as the boy he had loved so well.
+
+All this passed so rapidly that the apprentice, who seemed also to have
+been paralyzed, had not presence of mind to do any thing but look from
+one person to another with terror and alarm.
+
+"Go," said Margaret, at length, "wake up the girls, and then fly--oh,
+fly--for the doctor."
+
+The two servant maids, however, had heard enough in her own wild shriek
+to bring them to this woful scene. They entered as she spoke, and, aided
+by the apprentice, succeeded with some difficulty in laying their master
+on his bed, which was in a back room off the parlor.
+
+"In God's name, what is all this?" asked one of them, on looking at the
+insensible bodies of the father and son.
+
+"Help me," Margaret replied, not heeding the question, "help me to lay
+the treasure of my heart--my breakin' heart--upon his own little bed
+within, he will not long use it--tendherly, Peggy, oh, Peggy dear,
+tendherly to the broken flower--broken--broken--broken, never to rise
+his fair head again; oh, he is dead," she said, in a calm low voice,
+"my heart tells me that he is dead--see how his limbs hang, how lifeless
+they hang. My treasure--our treasure--our sweet, lovin', and only little
+man--our only son sure--our only son is dead--and where, oh, where, is
+the mother's pride out of him now--where is my pride out of him now?"
+
+They laid him gently and tenderly--for even the servants loved him as
+if he had been a relation--upon the white counterpane of his own little
+crib, where he had slept many a sweet and innocent sleep, and played
+many a lightsome and innocent play with his little sisters. His mother
+felt for his pulse, but she could feel no pulse, she kissed his passive
+lips, and then--oh, woful alternative of affliction!--she turned to his
+equally insensible father.
+
+"Oh, ma'am," said one of the girls, who had gone over to look at Art;
+"oh, for God's sake, ma'am, come here--here is blood comin' out of the
+masther's mouth."
+
+She was at the bedside in an instant, and there, to deepen her
+sufferings almost beyond the power of human fortitude, she saw the blood
+oozing slowly out of his mouth. Both the servants were now weeping and
+sobbing as if their hearts would break.
+
+"Oh, mistress dear," one of them exclaimed, seizing her affectionately
+by both hands, and looking almost distractedly into her face, "oh,
+mistress dear, what did you ever do to desarve this?"
+
+"I don't know, Peggy," she replied, "unless it was settin' my father's
+commands, and my mother's at defiance; I disobeyed them both, and they
+died without blessin' either me or mine. But oh," she said, clasping
+her hands, "how can one poor wake woman's heart stand all this--a double
+death--husband and son--son and husband--and I'm but one woman, one
+poor, feeble, weak woman--but sure," she added, dropping on her knees,
+"the Lord will support me. I am punished, and I hope forgiven, and he
+will now support me."
+
+She then briefly, but distractedly, entreated the divine support, and
+rose once more with a heart, the fibres of which were pulled asunder, as
+it were, between husband and son, each of whose lips she kissed, having
+wiped the blood from those of her husband, with a singular blending
+together of tenderness, distraction and despair. She went from the one
+to the other, wringing her hands in dry agony, feeling for life in
+their hearts and pulses, and kissing their lips with an expression of
+hopelessness so pitiable and mournful, that the grief of the servants
+was occasioned more by her sufferings than by the double catastrophe
+that had occurred.
+
+The doctor's house, as it happened, was not far from theirs, and in a
+very brief period he arrived.
+
+"Heavens! Mrs. Maguire, what has happened?" said he, looking on the two
+apparently inanimate bodies with alarm.
+
+"His father," she said, pointing to the boy, "being in a state of drink,
+threw a little beech chair at the apprentice here, he stepped aside, as
+was natural, and the blow struck my treasure there," she said, holding
+her hand over the spot where he was struck, but not on it; "but, doctor,
+look at his father, the blood is trickling out of his mouth."
+
+The doctor, after examining into the state of both, told her not to
+despair--
+
+"Your husband," said he, "who is only in a fit, has broken a
+blood-vessel, I think some small blood-vessel is broken; but as for the
+boy, I can as yet pronounce no certain opinion upon him. It will be a
+satisfaction to you, however, to know that he is not dead, but only in a
+heavy stupor occasioned by the blow."
+
+It was now that her tears began to flow, and copiously and bitterly they
+did flow; but as there was still hope, her grief, though bitter, was not
+that of despair. Ere many minutes, the doctor's opinion respecting one
+of them, at least, was verified. Art opened his eyes, looked wildly
+about him, and the doctor instantly signed to his wife to calm the
+violence of her sorrow, and she was calm.
+
+"Margaret," said he, "where's Atty? bring him to me--bring him to me!"
+
+"Your son was hurt," replied the doctor, "and has just gone to sleep."
+
+"He is dead," said Art, "he is dead, he will never waken from that
+sleep--and it was I that killed him!"
+
+"Don't disturb yourself," said the doctor, "as you value your own life
+and his; you yourself have broken a blood-vessel, and there is nothing
+for you now but quiet and ease."
+
+"He is dead," said his father, "he is dead, and it was I that killed
+him; or, if he's not dead, I must hear it from his mother's lips."
+
+"Art, darlin', he is not dead, but he is very much hurted," she replied;
+"Art, as you love him, and me, and us all, be guided by the doctor."
+
+"He is not dead," said the doctor; "severely hurt he is, but not dead.
+Of that you may rest assured."
+
+So far as regarded Art, the doctor was right; he had broken only a small
+blood vessel, and the moment the consequences of his fit had passed away,
+he was able to get up, and walk about with very little diminution of his
+strength.
+
+To prevent him from seeing his son, or to conceal the boy's state from
+him, was impossible. He no sooner rose than with trembling hands, a
+frightful terror of what was before him, he went to the little bed on
+which the being dearest to him on earth lay. He stood for a moment,
+and looked down upon the boy's beautiful, but motionless face; he first
+stooped, and putting his mouth to the child's ear said--
+
+"Atty, Atty"--he then shook his head; "you see," he added, addressing
+those who stood about him, "that he doesn't hear me--no, he doesn't hear
+me--that ear was never deaf to me before, but it's deaf now;" he then
+seized his hand, and raised it, but it was insensible to his touch, and
+would have fallen on the bed had he let it go. "You see," he proceeded,
+"that his hand doesn't know mine any longer! Oh, no, why should it? this
+is the hand that laid our flower low, so why should he acknowledge it?
+yet surely he would forgive his father, if he knew it--oh, he would
+forgive that father, that ever and always loved him--loved him--loved
+him, oh, that's a wake word, a poor wake word. Well," he went on, "I
+will kiss his lips, his blessed lips--oh, many an' many a kiss, many a
+sweet and innocent kiss--did I get from them lips, Atty dear, with those
+little arms, that are now so helpless, clasped about my neck." He then
+kissed him again and again, but the blessed child's lips did not return
+the embrace that had never been refused before. "Now," said he, "you all
+see that--you all see that he won't kiss me again, and that is bekaise
+he can't do it; Atty, Atty," he said, "won't you speak to me? it's I,
+Atty, sure it's I, Atty dear, your lovin' father, that's callin' you to
+spake to him. Atty dear, won't you spake to me--do you hear my voice,
+_asthore machree_--do you hear your father's voice, that's callin'
+on you to forgive him?" He paused for a short time, but the child lay
+insensible and still.
+
+At this moment there was no dry eye present; the very doctor wept.
+Margaret's grief was loud; she felt every source of love and tenderness
+for their only boy opened in her unhappy and breaking heart, and was
+inconsolable: but then compassion for her husband was strong as
+her grief. She ran to Art, she flung her arms about his neck, and
+exclaimed--
+
+"Oh, Art dear, Art dear, be consoled: take consolation if you can, or
+you will break my heart. Forgive you asthore! you, you that would shed
+your blood for him! don't you know he would forgive you? Sure, I forgive
+you--his mother, his poor, distracted, heart-broken mother forgives
+you--in his name I forgive you." She then threw herself beside the body
+of their child, and shouted out--"Atty, our blessed treasure, I have
+forgiven your father for you--in your blessed name, and in the name of
+the merciful God that you are now with, I have forgiven your unhappy
+find heart-broken father--as you would do, if you could, our lost
+treasure, as you would do."
+
+"Oh," said his father vehemently distracted with his horrible
+affliction; "if there was but any one fault of his that I could remimber
+now, any one failin' that our treasure had--if I could think of a single
+spot upon his little heart, it would relieve me; but, no, no, there's
+nothin' of that kind to renumber aginst him. Oh, if he wasn't what he
+was--if he wasn't what he was--we might have some little consolation;
+but now we've none; we've none--none!"
+
+As he spoke and wept, which he did with the bitterest anguish of
+despair, his grief assumed a character that was fearful from the inward
+effusion of blood, which caused him from time to time to throw it up in
+red mouthfuls, and when remonstrated with by the doctor upon the danger
+of allowing himself to be overcome by such excitement--
+
+"I don't care," he shouted, "if it's my heart's blood, I would shed it
+at any time for him; I don't care about life now; what 'ud it be to me
+without my son? widout you, Atty dear, what is the world or all
+that's in it to me now! An' when I think of who it was that cut you
+down--cursed be the hand that gave you that unlucky blow, cursed may
+it be--cursed be them that tempted me to drink--cursed may the drink be
+that made me as I was, and cursed of God may I be that--"
+
+"Art, Art," exclaimed Margaret, "any thing but that, remember there's a
+God above--don't blasphame;--we have enough to suffer widout havin' to
+answer for that."
+
+He paused at her words, and as soon as the paroxysm was over, he sunk
+by fits into a gloomy silence, or walked from room to room, wringing
+his hands and beating his head, in a state of furious distraction, very
+nearly bordering on insanity.
+
+The next morning, we need scarcely assure our readers, that, as the
+newspapers have it, a great and painful sensation had been produced
+through the town of Bally-keerin by the circumstances which we have
+related:--
+
+"Art Maguire had broken the pledge, gone home drunk, and killed his only
+son by the blow of an iron bar on the, head; the crowner had been sent
+for, an' plaise God we'll have a full account of it all."
+
+In part of this, however, common fame, as she usually is, was mistaken;
+the boy was not killed, neither did he then die. On the third day, about
+eight o'clock in the evening, he opened his eyes, and his mother, who
+was scarcely ever a moment from his bedside, having observed the fact,
+approached him with hopes almost as deep as those of heaven itself in
+her heart, and in a voice soft and affectionate as ever melted into a
+human ear--
+
+"Atty, treasure of my heart, how do you feel?"
+
+The child made no reply, but as his eye had not met hers, and as she had
+whispered very low, it was likely, she thought, that he had not heard
+her.
+
+"I will bring his father," said she, "for if he will know or spake to
+any one, he will, spake to him."
+
+She found Art walking about, as he had done almost ever since the
+unhappy accident, and running to him with a gush of joyful tears, she
+threw her arms about his neck, and kissing him, said--
+
+"Blessed be the Almighty, Art--" but she paused, "oh, great God, Art,
+what is this! merciful heaven, do I smell whiskey on you?"
+
+"You do," he replied, "it's in vain, I can't live--I'd die widout it;
+it's in vain, Margaret, to spake--if I don't get it to deaden my grief
+I'll die: but, what wor you goin' to tell me?" he added eagerly.
+
+She burst into tears.
+
+"Oh, Art," said she, "how my heart has sunk in spite of the good news I
+have for you."
+
+"In God's name," he asked, "what is it? is our darlin' betther?"
+
+"He is," she replied, "he has opened his eyes this minute, and I want
+you to spake to him."
+
+They both entered stealthily, and to their inexpressible delight heard
+the child's voice; they paused,--breathlessly paused,--and heard him
+utter, in a low sweet voice, the following words--
+
+"Daddy, won't you come to bed wid me, wid your own Atty?"
+
+This he repeated twice or thrice before they approached him, but when
+they did, although his eye turned from one to another, it was vacant,
+and betrayed no signs whatsoever of recognition.
+
+Their hearts sank again, but the mother, whose hope was strong and
+active as her affection, said--
+
+"Blessed be the Almighty that he is able even to spake but he's not well
+enough to know us yet."
+
+This was unhappily too true, for although they spoke to him, and placed
+themselves before him by turns, yet it was all in vain; the child knew
+neither them nor any one else. Such, in fact, was now their calamity,
+as a few weeks proved. The father by that unhappy blow did not kill
+his body, but he killed his mind; he arose from his bed a mild, placid,
+harmless idiot, silent and inoffensive--the only words he was almost
+heard to utter, with rare exceptions, being those which had been in his
+mind when he was dealt the woful blow:--"Daddy, won't you come to bed
+wid me, wid your own Atty?" And these he pronounced as correctly as
+ever, uttering them with the same emphasis of affection which had marked
+them before his early reason had been so unhappily destroyed. Now, even
+up to that period, and in spite of this great calamity, it was not
+too late for Art Maguire to retrieve himself, or still to maintain the
+position which he had regained. The misfortune which befell his
+child ought to have shocked him into an invincible detestation of all
+intoxicating liquors, as it would most men; instead of that, however,
+it drove him back to them. He had contracted a pernicious habit of
+diminishing the importance of first errors, because they appeared
+trivial in themselves; he had never permitted himself to reason against
+his propensities, unless through the indulgent medium of his own vanity,
+or an overweening presumption in the confidence of his moral strength,
+contrary to the impressive experience of his real weakness. His virtues
+were many, and his foibles few; yet few as they were, our readers
+perceive that, in consequence of his indulging them, they proved the
+bane of his life and happiness. They need not be surprised, then, to
+hear that from the want of any self-sustaining power in himself he fell
+into the use of liquor again; he said he could not live without it, but
+then he did not make the experiment; for he took every sophistry that
+appeared to make in his favor for granted. He lived, if it could be
+called life, for two years and a half after this melancholy accident,
+but without the spring or energy necessary to maintain his position, or
+conduct his business, which declined as rapidly as he did himself. He
+and his family were once more reduced to absolute beggary, until in the
+course of events they found a poorhouse to receive them. Art was seldom
+without a reason to justify his conduct, and it mattered not how feeble
+that reason might be, he always deemed it sufficiently strong to satisfy
+himself. For instance, he had often told his wife that if Atty had
+recovered, sound in body and mind, he had determined never again to
+taste liquor; "but," said he, "when I seen my darlin's mind gone, I
+couldn't stand it widout the drop of drink to keep my heart an' spirits
+up." He died of consumption in the workhouse of Ballykeerin, and there
+could not be a stronger proof of the fallacy with which he reasoned than
+the gratifying fact, that he had not been more than two months dead,
+when his son recovered his reason, to the inexpressible joy of his
+mother; so that had he followed up his own sense of what was right, he
+would have lived to see his most sanguine wishes, with regard to
+his son, accomplished, and perhaps have still been able to enjoy a
+comparatively long and happy life.
+
+On the morning of the day on which he died, although not suffering much
+from pain, he seemed to feel an impression that his end was at hand. It
+is due to him to say here, that he had for months before his death been
+deeply and sincerely penitent, and that he was not only sensible of the
+vanity and errors which had occasioned his fall from integrity, and cut
+him off in the prime of life, but also felt his heart sustained by
+the divine consolations of religion. Father Costello was earnest and
+unremitting in his spiritual attentions to him, and certainly had the
+gratification of knowing that he felt death to be in his case not merely
+a release from all his cares and sorrows, but a passport into that life
+where the weary are at rest.
+
+About twelve o'clock in the forenoon he asked to see his wife--his own
+Margaret--and his children, but, above all, his blessed Atty--for such
+was the epithet he had ever annexed to his name since the night of the
+melancholy accident. In a few minutes the sorrowful group appeared, his
+mother leading the unconscious boy by the hand, for he knew not where he
+was. Art lay, or rather reclined, on the bed, supported by two bolsters;
+his visage was pale, but the general expression of his face was calm,
+mild, and sorrowful; although his words were distinct, his voice was
+low and feeble, and every now and then impeded by a short catch--for to
+cough he was literally unable.
+
+"Margaret," said he, "come to me, come to me now," and he feebly
+received her hand in his; "I feel that afther all the warfare of this
+poor life, afther all our love and our sorrow, I am goin' to part wid
+you and our childhre at last."
+
+"Oh, Art, darlin', I can think of nothing now, asthore, but our love,"
+she replied, bursting into a flood of tears, in which she was joined by
+the children--Atty, the unconscious Atty, only excepted.
+
+"An' I can think of little else," said he, "than our sorrows and
+sufferins, an' all the woful evil that I brought upon you and them."
+
+"Darlin'," she replied, "it's a consolation to yourself, as it is to us,
+that whatever your errors wor, you've repented for them; death is not
+frightful to you, glory be to God!"
+
+"No," said he, looking upwards, and clasping his worn hands; "I am
+resigned to the will of my good and merciful God, for in him is my hope
+an' trust. Christ, by his precious blood, has taken away my sins, for
+you know I have been a great sinner;" he then closed his eyes for a few
+minutes, but his lips were moving as if in prayer. "Yes, Margaret," he
+again proceeded, "I am goin' to lave you all at last; I feel it--I
+can't say that I'll love you no more, for I think that even in heaven
+I couldn't forget you; but I'll never more lave you a sore heart, as
+I often did--I'll never bring the bitther tear to your eye--the hue
+of care to your face, or the pang of grief an' misery to your heart
+again--thank God I will not; all my follies, all my weaknesses, and all
+my crimes--"
+
+"Art," said his wife, wringing her hands, and sobbing as if her heart
+would break, "if you wish me to be firm, and to set our childre an
+example of courage, now that it's so much wanted, oh, don't spake as you
+do--my heart cannot stand it."
+
+"Well, no," said he, "I won't; but when I think of what I might be this
+day, and of what I am--when I think of what you and our childre might
+be--an' when I see what you are--and all through my means--when I think
+of this, Margaret dear, an' that I'm torn away from you and them in the
+very prime of life--but," he added, turning hastily from that view of
+his situation, "God is good an' merciful, an' that is my hope."
+
+"Let it be so, Art dear," replied Margaret; "as for us, God will take
+care of us, and in him we will put our trust, too; remimber that he is
+the God and father of the widow an' the orphan."
+
+He here appeared to be getting very weak, but in a minute or two he
+rallied a little, and said, while his eye, which was now becoming heavy,
+sought about until it became fixed upon his son--
+
+"Margaret, bring him to me."
+
+She took the boy by the hand, and led him over to the bedside.
+
+"Put his hand in mine," said he, "put his blessed hand in mine."
+
+She did so, and Art looked long and steadily upon the face of his child.
+
+"Margaret," said he, "you know that durin' all my wild and sinful
+coorses, I always wore the lock of hair you gave me when we wor young
+next my heart--my poor weak heart."
+
+Margaret buried her face in her hands, and for some time could not
+reply.
+
+"I don't wish, darlin'," said he, "to cause you sorrow--you will have
+too much of that; but I ax it as a favor--the last from my lips--that
+you will now cut off a lock of his hair--his hair fair--an' put it along
+with your own upon my heart; it's all I'll have of you both in the grave
+where I'll sleep; and, Margaret, do it now--oh, do it soon."
+
+Margaret, who always carried scissors hanging by her pocket, took them
+out, and cutting a long abundant lock of the boy's hair, she tenderly
+placed it where he wished, in a little three-cornered bit of black silk
+that was suspended from his neck, and lay upon his heart.
+
+"Is it done?" said he.
+
+"It is done," she replied as well as she could!
+
+"This, you know, is to lie on my heart," said he, "when I'm in my grave;
+you won't forget that!"
+
+"No--oh, no, no; but, merciful God, support me! for Art, my husband, my
+life, I don't know how I'll part with you."
+
+"Well, may God bless you forever, my darlin' wife, and support you and
+my orphans! Bring them here."
+
+They were then brought over, and in a very feeble voice he blessed them
+also.
+
+"Now, forgive me all," said he, "forgive ME ALL!"
+
+But, indeed, we cannot paint the tenderness and indescribable affliction
+of his wife and children while uttering their forgiveness of all his
+offences against them, as he himself termed it. In the meantime he kept
+his son close by him, nor would he suffer him to go one moment from his
+reach.
+
+"Atty," said he, in a low voice, which was rapidly sinking;--"put his
+cheek over to mine"--he added to his wife, "then raise my right arm, an'
+put it about his neck;--Atty," he proceeded, "won't you give me one last
+word before I depart?"
+
+His wife observed that as he spoke a large tear trickled down his cheek.
+Now, the boy was never in the habit of speaking when he was spoken to,
+or of speaking at all, with the exception of the words we have already
+given. On this occasion, however, whether the matter was a coincidence
+or not, it is difficult to say, he said in a quiet, low voice, as if
+imitating his father's--
+
+"Daddy, won't you come to bed for me, for your own Atty?"
+
+The reply was very low, but still quite audible--
+
+"Yes, darlin', I--I will--I will for you, Atty."
+
+The child said no more, neither did his father, and when the sorrowing
+wife, struck by the stillness which for a minute or two succeeded the
+words, went to remove the boy, she found that his father's spirit had
+gone to that world where, we firmly trust, his errors, and follies, and
+sins have been forgiven. While taking the boy away, she looked upon
+her husband's face, and there still lay the large tear of love and
+repentance--she stooped down--she kissed it--and it was no longer there.
+
+There is now little to be added, unless to inform those who may take
+an interest in the fate of his wife and children, that his son soon
+afterwards was perfectly restored to the use of his reason, and that in
+the month of last September he was apprenticed in the city of Dublin to
+a respectable trade, where he is conducting himself with steadiness and
+propriety; and we trust, that, should he ever read this truthful account
+of his unhappy father, he will imitate his virtues, and learn to
+avoid the vanities and weaknesses by which he brought his family to
+destitution and misery, and himself to a premature grave. With respect
+to his brother Frank, whom his irreclaimable dissipation drove out of
+the country, we are able to gratify our readers by saying that he got
+happily married in America, where he is now a wealthy man, in prosperous
+business and very highly respected.
+
+Margaret, in consequence of her admirable character, was appointed to
+the situation of head nurse in the Ballykeerin Hospital, and it will not
+surprise our readers to hear that she gains and retains the respect and
+good-will of all who know her, and that the emoluments of her situation
+are sufficient, through her prudence and economy, to keep her children
+comfortable and happy.
+
+Kind reader, is it necessary that we should recapitulate the moral we
+proposed to show' in this true but melancholy narrative? We trust not.
+If it be not sufficiently obvious, we can only say it was our earnest
+intention that it should be so. At all events, whether you be
+a Teetotaller, or a man carried away by the pernicious love of
+intoxicating liquors, think upon the fate of Art Maguire, and do not
+imitate the errors of his life, as you find them laid before you in this
+simple narrative of "The Broken Pledge."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Phelim O'toole's Courtship and Other
+Stories, by William Carleton
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