Humours of Irish Life Part 19

So, it was not likely ould Tim Donovan id be fallin' in love wid poor Bill Malowney as aisy as the girls did; for, barrin' his beauty, an' his gun, an' his dhudheen, an' his janious, the divil a taste of property iv any sort or description he had in the wide world!

Well, as bad as that was, Billy would not give in that her father and mother had the smallest taste iv a right to intherfare, good or bad.

"An' you're welcome to rafuse me," says he, "whin' I ax your lave," says he; "an' I'll ax your lave," says he, "whenever I want to coort yourselves," says he; "but it's your daughter I'm coortin' at the present," says he, "an' that's all I'll say," says he; "for I'd a soon take a doase of salts as be discoursin' ye," says he.

So it was a rale blazin' battle betune himself and the ould people; an', begorra, there was no soart iv blaguardin' that did not pa.s.s betune them; an' they put a solemn injection on Molly again seein' him or meetin' him for the future.

But it was all iv no use. You might as well be pursuadin' the birds agin flying, or sthrivin' to coax the stars out of the sky into your hat, as be talking common sinse to them that's fairly bothered and burstin' wid love. There's nothin' like it. The toothache and colic together id compose you betther for an argyment than itself. It leaves you fit for nothin' bud nansinse.

It's stronger than whisky, for one good drop iv it will make you drunk for one year, and sick, begorra, for a dozen.

It's stronger than the say, for it'll carry you round the world an'

never let you sink, in sunshine or storm; an', begorra, it's stronger than Death himself, for it is not afeard iv him, bedad, but dares him in every shape.

Bud lovers has quarrels sometimes, and, begorra, when they do, you'd a'most imagine they hated one another like man and wife. An' so, signs an', Billy Malowney and Molly Donovan fell out one evening at ould Tom Dundon's wake; an' whatever came betune them, she made no more about it but just draws her cloak round her, and away wid herself and the sarvant-girl home again, as if there was not a corpse, or a fiddle, or a taste of divarsion in it.

Well, Billy Malowney follied her down the boreen, to try could he deludher her back again; but, if she was bitther before, she gave it to him in airnest when she got him alone to herself, and to that degree that he wished her safe home, short and sulky enough, an' walked back again, as mad as the devil himself, to the wake, to pay respect to poor Tom Dundon.

Well, my dear, it was aisy seen there was something wrong wid Billy Malowney, for he paid no attintion for the rest of the evening to any soart of divarsion but the whisky alone; an' every gla.s.s he'd drink it's what he'd be wishing the divil had the woman, an' the worst iv bad luck to all soarts iv courting, until, at last, wid the goodness iv the sperits, an' the badness iv his temper, an' the constant fl.u.s.thration iv cursin', he grew all as one as you might say almost, saving your presince, bastely drunk!

Well, who should he fall in wid, in that childish condition, as he was deploying along the road almost as straight as the letter S, an' cursin'

the girls, an' roarin' for more whisky, but the recruiting-sargent iv the Welsh Confusileers.

So, cute enough, the sargent begins to conva.r.s.e him, an' it was not long until he had him sitting in Murphy's public-house, wid an elegant dandy iv punch before him, an' the king's money safe an' snug in the lowest wrinkle of his breeches pocket.

So away wid him, and the dhrums and fifes playing, an' a dozen more unforthunate bliggards just listed along with him, an' he shakin' hands wid the sargent, and swearin' agin the women every minute, until, be the time he kem to himself, begorra, he was a good ten miles on the road to Dublin, an' Molly and all behind him.

It id be no good tellin' you iv the letters he wrote to her from the barracks there, nor how she was breaking her heart to go and see him just wanst before he'd go; but the father and mother would not allow iv it be no manes.

An' so in less time than you'd be thinkin' about it, the colonel had him polished off into a rale elegant soger, wid his gun exercise, and his bagnet exercise, and his small sword, and broad sword, and pistol and dagger, an' all the rest, an' then away wid him on board a man-a-war to furrin parts, to fight for King George agin Bonypart, that was great in them times.

Well, it was very soon in everyone's mouth how Billy Malowney was batin'

all before him, astonishin' the ginerals, and frightenin' the inimy to that degree, there was not a Frinchman dare say parley voo outside of the rounds iv his camp.

You may be sure Molly was proud iv that same, though she never spoke a word about it; until at last news kem home that Billy Malowney was surrounded an' murdered be the Frinch army, under Napoleon Bonypart himself. The news was brought by Jack Bryan Dhas, the pedlar, that said he met the corporal iv the regiment on the quay iv Limerick, an' how he brought him into a public-house and thrated him to a naggin, and got all the news about poor Billy Malowney out iv him while they war dhrinkin'

it; an' a sorrowful story it was.

The way it happened, accordin' as the corporal tould him, was jist how the Dook iv Wellington detarmined to fight a rale tarin' battle wid the Frinch, and Bonypart at the same time was aiqually detarmined to fight the divil's own scrimmidge wid the British foorces.

Well, as soon as the business was pretty near ready at both sides, Bonypart and the general next undher himself gets up behind a bush, to look at their inimies through spy-gla.s.ses, and thry would they know any iv them at the distance.

"Bedad!" says the gineral, afther a divil iv a long spy, "I'd bet half a pint," says he, "that's Billy Malowney himself," says he, "down there,"

says he.

"Och!" says Bonypart, "do you tell me so?" says he--"I'm fairly heart-scalded with that same Billy Malowney," says he; "an' I think if I wanst got shut iv him, I'd bate the rest of them aisy," says he.

"I'm thinking so myself," says the general, says he; "but he's a tough bye," says he.

"Tough!" says Bonypart, "he's the divil," says he.

"Begorra, I'd be better plased," says the gineral, says he, "to take himself than the Duke iv Willinton," says he, "an' Sir Edward Blakeney into the bargain," says he.

"The Duke of Wellinton and Gineral Blakeney," says Bonypart, "is great for planning, no doubt," says he; "but Billy Malowney's the boy for action," says he--"an' action's everything, just now," says he.

So with that Bonypart pushes up his c.o.c.ked hat, and begins scratching his head, and thinking and considherin' for the bare life, and at last says he to the gineral:

"Gineral Commandher iv all the Foorces," says he, "I've hot it," says he: "ordher out the forlorn hope," says he, "an' give them as much powdher, both glazed and blasting," says he, "an' as much bullets, do ye mind, an' swan-dhrops an' chainshot," says he, "an' all soorts iv waipons an' combustables as they can carry; an' let them surround Bill Malowney," says he, "an' if they can get any soort iv an advantage,"

says he, "let them knock him to smithereens," says he, "an' then take him presner," says he; "an' tell all the bandmen iv the Frinch army,"

says he, "to play up 'Garryowen,' to keep up their sperits," says he, "all the time they're advancin'. And you may promise them anything you like in my name," says he; "for, by my sowl, I don't think it's many iv them 'ill come back to throuble us," says he, winkin' at him.

So away with the gineral, an' he ordhers out the forlorn hope, an' tells the band to play, an' everything else, just as Bonypart desired him. An'

sure enough whin Billy Malowney heerd the music where he was standin'

taking a blast of the dhudheen to compose his mind for murdherin' the Frinchmen as usual, being mighty partial to that tune intirely, he c.o.c.ks his ear a one side, an' down he stoops to listen to the music; but, begorra, who should be in his rare all the time but a Frinch grannideer behind a bush, and seeing him stooped in a convenient forum, bedad he let flies at him straight, and fired him right forward between the legs an' the small iv the back, glory be to G.o.d! with what they call (saving your presence) a b.u.m-sh.e.l.l.

Well, Bill Malowney let one roar out iv him, an' away he rolled over the field iv battle like a slitther (as Bonypart and the Duke iv Wellington, that was watching the manoeuvres from a distance, both consayved) into glory.

An' sure enough the Frinch was overjoyed beyant all bounds, an' small blame to them--an' the Duke of Wellington, I'm toult, was never all out the same man sinst.

At any rate, the news kem home how Billy Malowney was murdhered by the Frinch in furrin parts.

Well, all this time, you may be sure, there was no want iv boys comin'

to coort purty Molly Donovan; but one way ar another, she always kept puttin' them off constant. An' though her father and mother was nathurally anxious to get rid of her respickably, they did not like to marry her off in spite iv her teeth.

An' this way, promising one while and puttin' it off another, she conthrived to get on from one Shrove to another, until near seven years was over and gone from the time when Billy Malowney listed for furrin sarvice.

It was nigh hand a year from the time whin the news iv Leum-a-rinka bein' killed by the Frinch came home, an' in place iv forgettin' him, as the saisins wint over, it's what Molly was growin' paler and more lonesome every day, antil the neighbours thought she was fallin' into a decline; and this is the way it was with her whin the fair of Lisnamoe kem round.

It was a beautiful evenin', just at the time iv the reapin' iv the oats, and the sun was shinin' through the red clouds far away over the hills iv Cahirmore.

Her father an' mother, an' the biys an' girls, was all away down in the fair, and Molly sittin' all alone on the step of the stile, listenin' to the foolish little birds whistlin' among the leaves--and the sound of the mountain-river flowin' through the stones an' bushes--an' the crows flyin' home high overhead to the woods iv Glinvarlogh--an' down in the glen, far away, she could see the fair-green iv Lisnamoe in the mist, an' sunshine among the grey rocks and threes--an' the cows an' horses, an' the blue frieze, an' the red cloaks, an' the tents, an' the smoke, an' the ould round tower--all as soft an' as sorrowful as a dhrame iv ould times.

An' while she was looking this way, an' thinking iv Leum-a-rinka--poor Bill iv the dance, that was sleepin' in his lonesome glory in the fields of Spain--she began to sing the song he used to like so well in the ould times:

"Shule, shule, shule a-roon;"

an' when she ended the verse, what do you think but she heard a manly voice just at the other side iv the hedge, singing the last words over again!

Well she knew it; her heart fluttered up like a little bird that id be wounded, and then dhropped still in her breast. It was himself. In a minute he was through the hedge and standing before her.

"Leum!" says she.

"Mavourneen cuishla machree!" says he; and without another word they were locked in one another's arms.

Well, it id only be nansinse for me thryin' to tell ye all the foolish things they said, and how they looked in one another's faces, an'

laughed, an' cried, an' laughed again; and how, when they came to themselves' and she was able at last to believe it was raly Billy himself that was there, actially holdin' her hand, and lookin' in her eyes the same way as ever, barrin' he was browner and boulder, an' did not, maybe, look quite as merry in himself as he used to do in former times--an' fondher for all, an' more lovin' than ever--how he tould her all about the wars wid the Frinchmen--an' how he was wounded, and left for dead in the field of battle, bein' shot through the breast, and how he was discharged, an' got a pinsion iv a full shillin' a day--and how he was come back to live the rest iv his days in the sweet glen iv Lisnamoe, an' (if only she'd consint) to marry herself in spite iv them all.

Well, ye may aisily think they had plinty to talk about, afther seven years without seeing one another; and so signs on, the time flew by as swift an' as pleasant as a bird on the wing, an' the sun wint down, an'

the moon shone sweet, yet they didn't mind a ha'port about it, but kept talkin an' whisperin', an' whisperin' an' talkin'; for it's wondherful how often a tinder-hearted girl will bear to hear a purty boy tellin'