The Bunsby Papers (second series): Irish Echoes Page 3

  CHAPTER II.

  A true home-angel, in this world of strife, Is, man's best friend, a faithful, loving wife.

  Now turn we, courteous reader, to the contemplation of a totallydifferent scene.

  Not far from the imposing, bright, red brick edifice of SquireBulworthy--indeed, you can see it on the other side of the street, withits flaring green door and great brazen knocker, its crimson parlorcurtains and every-color-in-the-world window-shades--stands themiserable looking tenement inhabited by our cobbling friend, Dan Duff.The walls are fashioned out of that natural, but by no means elegant,or expensive compound, known generally as "mud." The roof is thatchedwith straw, but so old and weather-worn that the rain soaks through itas though it were sponge; while the accidental vegetable productionswhich attach themselves to such decaying matter, vainly struggled togive it a semblance of life and verdure. A dilapidated half door, anda poor apology for a window, many of the small panes patched witharticles of used up domestic material, were the only means of ingress,ventilation, and light. Notwithstanding the hopeless-looking poverty ofthe whole, there were one or two indications which, to an observingmind, would tend to lessen, in a remote degree, its generalwretchedness. In the first place, a few small, cracked flower-potsdecked the little window-sill, from whence crept upward"morning-glories," and bright "scarlet-runners," the delight ofindustrious poverty. Then there was that invariable sharer of the poorman's crust and companionship, a useless, and not by any meansornamental, cur, shrewd, snappish, and curiously faithful, in friendlycontiguity to a well-conditioned cat. You may take your oath thatthere's harmony beneath the roof where a cat and dog are amicablydomiciliated.

  With the above exception, the cabin's sole occupant, at the presentmoment, is a woman; but such a woman--it's the cobbler's wife,before-mentioned; here, however, she is in her peculiar sphere. "Homeis home, be it ever so homely," is a trite and true aphorism, and poorPeggy, it is evident, does her best to make this unpromising one asfull of comfort as she can. Everything is scrupulously clean and in itsplace. The little wooden dresser is as white as soap and sand can makeit. So is the floor, and so are the scanty household goods.

  There is, though, a shade of discomfort on Peggy's pretty face justnow, as she laboriously plies her knitting needles, and the smallthundercloud breaks out into little flashes of impatience, as shesoliloquizes:

  "Did anybody ever see the likes of that Dan of mine? He couldn't takethe "tops" over to ould Bulworthy himself--not he!--of course not--hewasn't well enough to go out _then_, but the minute my back was turned,away he cuts to the '_shebeen_' house to get his 'mornin''--ugh! I dobelieve if he was before me now, I'd--but no--my poor Dan, it ain'tmuch comfort he's got in the world; so I won't say a blessed word toworry him."

  As if to recompense the considerate thought, Dan's jolly voice washeard, singing one of his consoling ditties.

  "Here he comes, bless him," cried Peg, joyfully, "as lively as a lark."

  There was wonderful commotion amongst the animals as Dan entered."Pincher," the apocryphal, shook his apology for a tail as vigorouslyas that diminished appendage was capable of accomplishing; while"Pussy" urged her claims upon his attention by rubbing herself againsthis legs. Peg said nothing.

  Now, Dan perfectly well knew his delinquency. Indeed, the song he hadjust executed, in a good, bold voice, had more of "brag" in it thanreal enthusiasm. He saw how the land lay instantly.

  "Peg, _alanna machree_, here I am," said he. "Whisht! I know whatyou're goin' to say. Keep yer mouth shut, you hateful blaggard, orI'll stop it up wid kisses, as close as cobbler's wax. There, Peg,"he continued, after having suited the action to the word, with asmack like a carter's whip, "I couldn't help it--I couldn't, uponmy word. You were a long time away--and the breakfast was mightysmall--and--and--a sort of oneasiness kem over me inside, I waslonesome, and thinkin' of things as wasn't wholesome, so I thoughtI'd just stick another chalk up at Phil Mooney's, so don't say anotherword."

  "Not a word Dan," replied Peg. "Sure, don't I mind poor Mary Maguire'scase, how she never let Mike rest when he had 'the drop' in him, untilat long last he stayed out, for the fear of comin' home; the whisky istoo strong for a woman to fight agin, Dan, so, if you like it betterthan me"----

  That was a skillful side-blow, and it made its mark.

  "Peg, you know better, you thief of the world, you do; you know, inyour pure little heart, that's too good for me, or the likes of me;that the summer flowers doesn't love the sunshine of heaven better thanI love you; oh! no, it isn't that, not that, Peg _aroon_."

  "What is it, then?"

  "Well, Peg," he continued, "its the _thinks_ that comes over a poorfella when he hasn't a _scurrig_ to bless himself wid; the _thinks_that lays a howld of him when there's nobody by but himself and thedevil that sends them, thems the times that worries a _poor_ man, Peg."

  "Ah! Dan," replied the other, seriously, "but those times worry a_wicked_ man worse."

  "Well, may-be they do," said the cobbler, doggedly, "if a body knew thetruth, but it's bad enough either way. Did the Squire pay for the'tops?'"

  "Not yet, Dan, he hadn't the change!"

  "Hadn't he, really," replied the other, bitterly. "Poor fella, what apity; there's a mighty great likeness betune us in that, anyway. Theupstart pup, why the divil didn't he get change. There's the differ,Peg, darlin', betune the rale gintleman and the 'musharoon;' agintleman as feels and knows he's one, and consequentially actsaccordin', will always think of the _great_ inconvanience the want ofthe little bit o' money is to the poor man, and not the small ditto tohimself, in the respect of gettin' the change; bad luck attend you,ould Bulworthy, the want of that shillin' has made me break my word ina quarther where I'm mighty loath for to do that same."

  "Where is that, Dan?"

  "I'll tell you, Peg; on the strength of that shillin' I towld my insidethat I'd give it a threat, may I never sin, acush, if I didn't promiseit a 'sassidge;' now, you know if you tell your hungryness to come at acertain time, it's generally apt to be purty smart at keepin' theappintmint, and, bedad, mine is waitin' for that sassidge; moreover, itain't threatin' a man's intayrior relations anyway raysonable to goback of yer word. Murdher, there's a twinge--if it isn't hittin' me apunch in the stomach just to put me in mind, I'm a grasshopper. It's nouse," he continued, addressing his unsatisfied digestibles, "you may'swell give over grumblin' and touchin' me up that way; it's no fault ofmine, it's ould Bulworthy's, bad cess to him; he hadn't any change, thedirty _spalpeen_, you won't take an excuse won't you? then I'll have tofire a pipe at you. Peg, jewil, fill us a _dhudeen_, won't you; thisthievin' hunger won't stir a toe unless I hunt it out wid tibaccy."

  Peggy soon filled the inevitable pipe, and Dan brought his artillery tobear upon the foe, after a severe round of tremendous puffs, duringwhich the combatants were enveloped in the hot smoke of battle; theenemy showed evident signs of beating a temporary retreat. Dan threwhimself back in his chair, and prepared, leisurely, to enjoy the fruitsof his victory.

  "I wondher," said he, after a few moments of great satisfaction, "Iwondher how ould Bulworthy would like to lunch upon smoke? Be jabers,if I had my will, I'd make him eat three males a day of it, until hishard-hearted bowels got tenderer towards the poor."

  "Talk of the what's-his-name," said Peggy. "Here he comes, both him andhis fine madame, as proud as ten paycocks; look at the airs of them; Iwonder they don't have the street widened when they condescend to walkout."

  "Peggy, darlin'," said Dan, "divil take me if I havn't a great mind tolet out at him for my shillin'."

  "Sure you wouldn't; what, in the open street? he'd hang you, Dan,without judge or jury."

  "It ain't quite so easy to hang a man as it used to be in the fine ouldtimes, Peg _alanna_," said Dan. "It's my shillin', he has no right tokeep it jinglin' in his pocket, and he shan't, neither, if I can helpit," he continued, going towards the door. "Hit or miss, here goes:Hollo, Squire!" adding, _sotto voce_, "you murdherin' Turk in topboots; long life t
o you--you concated ould vagabone."

  These expressions, of which the most polite alone reached his ear, asit may be imagined, grated harshly upon the aristocratic nerves of theprodigious Bulworthy; "What's that fellow making such a magniloquenthulla-balloo about," said he, grandly.

  "Athin, may-be you'd do my drawin'-room the honor of a sit down,yourself, and her ladyship," said Dan, to the dismay of poor Peggy, whoexclaimed: "Don't, Dan, don't; I'm ashamed of you, indeed, I am;"adding, apologetically, "oh, he never would a done it, only for thedrink; we're ruined entirely."

  "Bad 'cess to me if they're not coming, sure enough," said Dan,somewhat tremulously, but determined to put a good bold face on it, hecontinued, as they entered, "come, Peg, dust the chair for the lady."

  Peg's face was crimson as she complied, she scarcely knew how;Bulworthy's countenance indicated the state of temper with which heaccepted the proffered hospitality, while the Squiress gazed coolly andpatronizingly around.

  "I'm in a tremendious rage," said he, as he shook his fist at Dan. "Howdare you have the premeditated insurance to arrogate us into yourpig-sty, you ragamuffin."

  "Don't worrit, my dear," interposed Mrs. Bulworthy, in an authoritativetone. "It's our dooty, now, as ladies and gentlemen, to inquire intothe condition of the poor, and give them wholesome advice. Here, mydear," she continued, taking sundry tracts from her capacious pocket,"read these comfortable pages, and see what a state of awfulresponsibility you are in."

  "Bedad, that's all the poor people is likely to get from such visitorsas you," said Dan.

  "And now, sir," said Bulworthy, with an imposing frown, "whatinterrogational imperence do you want to address to me, that you havethe owdaciousness to drag me here?"

  Dan simply took down a broken piece of slate, and holding it up beforethe Squire's eyes, "a thriflin' account, sir," said he; "forheel-piecin' your honor's honorable tops, and maybe they don't show offan iligant lump of a leg, this fine spring mornin'," vainly hoping thatthe unmitigated flattery would mitigate the wrath of the potent Squire.

  "And was it for this, you--you illiterate colossus of brass, that youdetained me in my preambulations."

  "Indeed, sir," timidly interposed Peggy, "I hope that you'll forgivehim. It isn't his fault entirely, your honor. It's all on account of agintleman that he axed for to take a bit of dinner wid him."

  "What!" screamed Mrs. Bulworthy, with her sanctimonious eyes elevatedto the true Pharisaic standard; "I never heard of such wretcheddepravity. Dinner! do such wretched creatures deal in so miserable anextravagance? I tremble for your lost condition. Read this;" and shefumbled in her pocket for another comforting document, which Peggycourtesied humbly as she received; "read this, and learn to conqueryour unworthy appetites for earthly things." The Squiress was a fineexample of those theoretic Lady Bountifuls, whose province it is tofeed poverty with such like unsatisfactory viands.

  "I'll make you wait for your shillin', you scoundrel," said the irateSquire.

  "And serve him right, too," echoed his worthy spouse.

  "Then we'll have to wait for our dinner," suggested Dan.

  "And what's that to us, you reprobate?"

  "Oh, nothin'," said Dan. "Full stomachs thinks there's no empty ones inthe world; but may bad fortune stuff them top-boots chock full ofcorns, for your hard-heartedness, and may you never pull them onwithout gettin' a fresh stock."

  "Dear me, dear me," said the squeaking tract-distributer, "read this,and see what comes of such irreligious observations."

  "Read it yourself, ma'am," replied Dan, tossing back the profferedantidote, "maybe you may want it as bad as any of us."

  "You have been iniquitously indulging in intoxicating beverages, sir,"said Bulworthy.

  "A drunkard!" exclaimed his helpmate. "I have a blessed tract or twopeculiarly adapted to that abominable crime."

  "Oh! no, no, not a drunkard," cried Peggy, snatching the tract from thehand of her visitor; "not a drunkard. The cares of poverty force him totry and forget them, and himself now and then, but that's all."

  "All! that all! Oh, for the sinfulness that surrounds us," replied theother.

  "Have you been drinking, sir?" demanded the Squire, in ajustice-of-peace tone.

  "What right have you to ax?" said Dan, boldly. "You owe me a shillin';that's all I want."

  "He has a right, depraved creature that you are," interposed the meekand Christian-like disseminator; "rich people always have a right toask such questions of their poorer neighbors; but you don't deserve thecare we take of your unhappy souls."

  "Well, then, since it comes to that," said Dan, "I _do_ taste athrifle whin I can convayniently lay a hould of it; and, more betoken,it's a mighty bad rule that doesn't work both ways. I saw a lot ofbarrels and bottles goin' into the fine house over the way. I wonder ifthey wor intended for chimbly ornaments?"

  "Come, my dear," said Bulworthy, now supremely indignant, "let us leavethese degeneratious individuals to their incoherent reflections."

  "I want my shillin'," shouted Dan.

  "You shan't have it."

  "But I'm hungry, and so is Peggy, and Pincher, and Pussy."

  "Read this, you poor, infatuated sinner," said Mrs. B., handing himanother elegant extract, "and it will teach you to be contented underall circumstances."

  "Will it turn into a piece of bacon?" inquired Dan; "for if it won'tyez may curl yur hair wid it. It's all very well for you barn-fedgentry to be crammin' the poor wid bits of paper--gim me me shillin'."

  The Squire said not a word, but buttoned his pockets up tightly, while,with an expression of the most intense pity for such unparalleledignorance, his better half followed him out of the cabin.

  "May bitther bad luck attend yez both," said Dan, as they quitted theplace. "The dirty dhrop's in yez, and it _will_ show itself in spite ofall yer money; hollo! ain't that the babby?" he continued, as the tinyvoice of a child was heard proceeding from a little bit of a room,their only other apartment.

  "Yes, bless his bright eyes," replied Peggy, oblivious now to all theworld beside. "He's awake; look at his darlin' little face, wid thelaugh comin' all over it like a mealy potato." So saying, she rushedinto the room, and commenced hugging and kissing their sole treasure ina most alarming manner.

  "Kiss him for me, Peg," cried Dan. "Smother the villain of the world;ah, ha!" he went on, "there's a blessin' ould top-boots hasn't got anyway; a fine lump of a fella, wid the health fairly burstin' out of hismurdherin' cheeks; as fat as butther, and as lively as a tickledkitten. The Squire's is a poor, wizen-faced _leprechaun_ of a creather,that looks as if he was born forty years ould, and grew backwards eversence. Ha, ha! the thoughts of that bright-eyed schamer puts the songinto my heart, like the risin' sun to the lark."

  But soon his thoughts took a more desponding turn. "Poor littlegossoon," said he, "when I think that there's nothin' before him buthis father's luck in the world, to work, and pine, and toil, until hisback is bent before the ould age touches it; it drives away the joy asquick as it came; murdher alive, ain't it too bad to think thatill-lookin' _Kippogue_ over the way, might ate goold if he could onlydisgist it, and when he grows up, my fine, noble, blessed boy will haveto bow, and cringe, and touch his hat to a chap wid no more sowl than aworn-out shoe; that's what puts evil thoughts in my head; the boy thatI love, aye! almost as hard as if I was the mother of it instead ofbein' only its father; when I think of him and what may be before him,oh! how I wish that I stood in ould Bulworthy's shoes, or his 'tops,'if it was only for his sake. Murdher! how sleepy I am all of a suddent;is it the drink, or the imptyness? a little of both, may-be; it ain'toften I have a chance of forgettin' the dirty world for a thrifle o'time, so here goes to have a snooze."

  So saying, Dan settled himself to take a mid-day nap, for the lack ofbetter employment; but he had scarcely dropped his head on his breastfor that purpose when he became aware of a singular ringing sensationin his ears, which increased until he fancied he heard a sound, loudand sonorous as the tolling of the church-
clock; at last there came onebang, so startling that he jumped up suddenly from his chair: "TheSaints between us and all harum: who's that?" he cried, in a terriblefright; but he could see nothing; the sounds were also gone; a deadsilence was around him, and he must have slept for some time, itappeared, for the shadows of evening were darkening the small window.Moodily he leant his head upon his hands and gazed into the smallfire-place; a few sods of turf were burning on the hearth; as he lookedfixedly upon the waning embers, he perceived that from either end ofone of the sods, a thin, white smoke lazily curled up the chimney,gradually increasing in volume and density; while he was vainlywondering how so small a piece of turf could send out so great anamount of vapor, to his still greater surprise, he saw the spiralcolumns advance towards him, and gather upon each side--slowly theygathered--and mounted in eddying clouds, until they reached to a levelwith his head; there they ceased, as though imprisoned in an invisiblemedium, and commenced wreathing and interwreathing, up and down, inbeautiful vapory combinations; silently he contemplated theextraordinary phenomenon, in a state of extreme bewilderment, but yetwithout the slightest sensation of the dread which should accompany sosingular a spectacle, and it was with more admiration than awe hebecame aware that the smoky pillars beside him were gradually mouldingthemselves into the most exquisite human forms; at length they stoodbefore him defined and perfect--two female appearances of transcendentloveliness; one fair as a sun-beam, the other dark, but each supreme inits individual type of beauty. Gentleness and heavenly love beamed inthe mild, blue eyes of the one, glittering boldness flashed from thecoal-black orbs of the other: a shower of delicate golden hair, softand yielding as silken fibres, shed a bright radiance like a haloaround the saintly lineaments of the fairer spirit, while massyclusters of raven hue, through which a warm, purple tint wasinterwoven, glancing, in the light, like threads of fire, enriched theample brow, and swept down the full form of the darker one. "I wonderif it's alive they are," thought Dan, as he gazed alternately at each."I'll be upon me oath I dunno which is the purtiest of the two; theyalla-headed one looks as if she could coax the very heart out throughme ribs; but, oh! murdher alive! the lightnin' that darts from themblack eyes is enough to strike a fella foolish at onst; bad luck to meif I don't spake to them;" so saying, our friend made one of his bestbows, tugging the conventional lock left for that purpose. "Yoursarvant, ladies," said he, "and what might it be that brings yez out soairly this cowld mornin'."

  The fairer apparition, in a voice like spoken melody, answered: "I amthe spirit of your better thoughts."

  "You don't tell me that, Miss, then it's glad that I am to see you tothe fore, and mighty sorry that I haven't got a sate dacent enough tooffer to the likes of such an iligant creather," said Dan, "and who'syour frind, may I ax?" he went on, turning to the darker beauty.

  "I am the spirit of your evil thoughts," replied the other, in a rich,full tone, bending her lustrous eyes upon the questioner in a way thatmade his heart bound.

  "Oh! you are, are you," he gasped out; "faix, and I don't know, if it'swelcome you ought to be, or not; but, for the sake of good manners, I'dax you to sit too, av I had the convaynience."

  "You called upon us both, just now," said the good spirit.

  "And we are here," continued the other; "so choose between us, whichyou will entertain."

  "Couldn't I be on the safe side, and entertain the both of yez?"suggested Dan, with a propitiatory wink to each.

  "That is impossible," replied the good spirit. "We only meet whenthere's contention in a mortal mind whether he shall the right or wrongpursue. Did you not wish but now that you could change conditions withthe rich man opposite?"

  "Well, then, I may's well let the whole truth out, seein' that you'relikely to know all about it; I _did_ wish somethin' of thesort."

  "And a very reasonable wish it was," said the dark spirit, on his left.

  "A very foolish wish," firmly observed the fair one.

  "I don't agree with you," replied the other.

  "You never do," said the good spirit.

  "Nor ever will!"

  "I don't lose much by that"----

  "Ladies, darlin'," interposed Dan, "I'd rayther you wouldn't disthressyerselves on my account."

  "Don't be alarmed, my good friend," said the fair spirit. "We never canagree; but, how do you resolve? Is it still your wish to stand in theSquire's shoes?"

  "Top-boots?" suggested Dan.

  "Of course it is," replied the evil spirit for him. "Who would not havesuch wish, to pass his days in luxury and ease, not labor--pinched, incare and penury?"

  "Thrue for you," observed Dan, approvingly.

  "But who would give up even a small share of joy, contentment, anddomestic love, to seek, perchance, for more, perchance, for less?"replied the other.

  "There's rayson in that," said Dan.

  "Aye, but the boy," said his left-hand companion; "see what a gloriouslife the heir to such a wealthy man would lead."

  "That sets me heart bubblin' like a bilin' pot," cried Dan, joyously.

  "You are resolved, then, to be ruled by me?" demanded the suggester ofevil thoughts.

  "Indeed, and I am, that I am, just for the sake of the babby," saidDan.

  "Follow, and I will point out a way," said the dark spirit, glidingtowards the door. Dan made a movement to follow, when his footstepswere arrested by a chorus of invisible voices, small, but distinct, andmusical as a choir of singing birds, that appeared to sound within hisvery brain, so that he heard every word as clearly as though he haduttered it himself.

  Every mortal has his grief: Each one thinks that his is chief. Better keep your present lot, Than to tempt--you don't know what.

  Irresolution made him falter on the threshold through which the spiritof evil thoughts had just passed; it was but for an instant, however,for the same tiny voices sang within his heart the blessings and thejoys of wealth, and, above all, the image of his darling child, madehappy in its possession.

  "Here goes," said he. "The divil a pin's point does it matther whatcomes of me, so that luck lays a howld of the little gossoon." Sosaying, he followed the dark spirit, while the other bowed its lovelyhead upon its breast, and shedding tears of anguish for the temptedone, whose weakness she had not the power to strengthen, slowly andpensively came after, resolved not to abandon her charge while therewas yet a hope to save.