Irish Wonders Part 11

"'And was it the Leprechawn gev it ye?' says they.

"'It was,' says Dinnis, 'an' the varchew av this purse is sich, that if ye take shillin's out av it be the handful all day long, they'll be comin' in a shtrame like whishkey out av a jug,' says he, pullin' out wan.

"And thin, me jewel, he put in his fingers afther another, but it wasn't there, for the Leprechawn made a ijit av him, an' instid o' givin' him the right purse, gev him wan just like it, so as onless ye looked clost, ye cudn't make out the differ betune thim. But the face on Dinnis was a holy show when he seen the Leprechawn had done him, an' he wid only a shillin', an' half a crown av dhrink down the troats av thim.

"'To the divil wid you an' yer Leprechawns, an' purses, an' magic shillin's,' schreamed Miss Clooney, belavin', an' small blame to her that's, that it was lyin' to her he was. 'Ye're a thafe, so ye are, dhrinkin' up me dhrink, wid a lie on yer lips about the purse, an'

insultin' me into the bargain,' says she, thinkin' how he called her a shkeleton, an' her a load fur a waggin. 'Yer impidince bates owld Nick, so it does,' says she; so she up an' hits him a power av a crack on the head wid a bottle; an' the other felly's, a-thinkin' sure that it was a lie he was afther tellin' them, an' he laving thim to pay fur the dhrink he'd had, got on him an' belted him out av the face till it was nigh onto dead he was. Then a consthable comes along an' hears the phillaloo they did be makin' an' comes in.

"'Tatther an' agers,' says he, 'lave aff. I command the pace. Phat's the matther here?'

"So they towld him an' he consayved that Dinnis shtole the purse an' tuk him be the collar.

"'Lave go,' says Dinnis. 'Sure phat's the harrum o' getting the purse av a Leprechawn?'

"'None at all,' says the polisman, 'av ye projuice the Leprechawn an' make him teshtify he gev it ye an' that ye haven't been burglarious an'

sarc.u.mvinted another man's money,' says he.

"But Dinnis cudn't do it, so the cunsthable tumbled him into the jail.

From that he wint to coort an' got thirty days at hard labor, that he niver done in his life afore, an' afther he got out, he said he'd left lookin' for Leprechawns, fur they were too shmart fur him entirely, an'

it's thrue fur him, bekase I belave they were."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Playing his pranks"]

THE HENPECKED GIANT.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Initial: "The Henpecked Giant"]

No locality of Ireland is fuller of strange bits of fanciful legend than the neighborhood of the Giant's Causeway. For miles along the coast the geological strata resemble that of the Causeway, and the gradual disintegration of the stone has wrought many peculiar and picturesque effects among the basaltic pillars, while each natural novelty has woven round it a tissue of traditions and legends, some appropriate, others forced, others ridiculous misapplications of commonplace tales. Here, a long straight row of columns is known as the "Giant's Organ," and tradition pictures the scene when the giants of old, with their gigantic families, sat on the Causeway and listened to the music; there, a group of isolated pillars is called the "Giant's Chimneys," since they once furnished an exit for the smoke of the gigantic kitchen. A solitary pillar, surrounded by the crumbling remains of others, bears a distant resemblance to a seated female figure, the "Giant's Bride," who slew her husband and attempted to flee, but was overtaken by the power of a magician, who changed her into stone as she was seated by the sh.o.r.e, waiting for the boat that was to carry her away. Further on, a cl.u.s.ter of columns forms the "Giant's Pulpit," where a presumably outspoken gigantic preacher denounced the sins of a gigantic audience. The Causeway itself, according to legend, formerly extended to Scotland, being originally constructed by Finn Maccool and his friends, this notable giant having invited Benandoner, a Scotch giant of much celebrity, to come over and fight him. The invitation was accepted, and Maccool, out of politeness, built the Causeway the whole distance, the big Scotchman thus walking over dryshod to receive his beating.

Some distance from the mainland is found the Ladies' Wishing Chair, composed of blocks in the Great Causeway, wishes made while seated here being certain of realization. To the west of the Wishing Chair a solitary pillar rises from the sea, the "Gray Man's Love." Look to the mainland, and the mountain presents a deep, narrow cleft, with perpendicular sides, the "Gray Man's Path." Out in the sea, but unfortunately not often in sight, is the "Gray Man's Isle," at present inhabited only by the Gray Man himself. As the island, however, appears but once in seventeen years, and the Gray Man is never seen save on the eve of some awful calamity, visitors to the Causeway have a very slight chance of seeing either island or man. There can be no doubt though of the existence of both, for everybody knows he was one of the greatest of the giants during his natural lifetime, nor could any better evidence be asked than the facts that his sweet-heart, turned into stone, still stands in sight of the Causeway; the precipice, from which she flung herself into the sea, is still known by the name of the "Lovers' Leap;" and the path he made through the mountain is still used by him when he leaves his island and comes on sh.o.r.e.

It is not surprising that so important a personage as the Gray Man should be the central figure of many legends, and indeed over him the story-makers seem to have had vigorous compet.i.tion, for thirty or forty narratives are current in the neighborhood concerning him and the princ.i.p.al events of his life. So great a collection of legendary lore on one topic rendered the choice of a single tradition which should fairly cover the subject a matter of no little difficulty. As sometimes happens in grave undertakings, the issue was determined by accident. A chance boat excursion led to the acquaintance of Mr. Barney O'Toole, a fisherman, and conversation developed the fact that this gentleman was thoroughly posted in the local legends, and was also the possessor of a critical faculty which enabled him to differentiate between the probable and the improbable, and thus to settle the historical value of a tradition. In his way, he was also a philosopher, having evidently given much thought to social issues, and expressing his conclusions thereupon with the ease and freedom of a master mind.

Upon being informed of the variety and amount of legendary material collected about the Gray Man and his doings, Barney unhesitatingly p.r.o.nounced the entire a.s.sortment worthless, and condemned all the gathered treasures as the creations of petty intellects, which could not get out of the beaten track, but sought in the supernatural a reason for and explanation of every fact that seemed at variance with the routine of daily experience. In his opinion, the Gray Man is never seen at all in our day and generation, having been gathered to his fathers ages ago; nor is there any enchanted island; to use his own language, "all thim shtories bein' made be thim blaggard guides that set up av a night shtringin' out laigends for to enthertain the quol'ty."

"Now, av yer Anner wants to hear it, I can tell ye the thrue shtory av the Gray Man, no more is there anny thing wondherful in it, but it's just as I had it from me grandfather, that towld it to the childher for to entertain thim.

"It's very well beknownst that in thim owld days there were gionts in plinty hereabouts, but they didn't make the Causeway at all, for that's a work o' nacher, axceptin' the Gray Man's Path, that I'm goin' to tell ye av. But ivery wan knows that there were gionts, bekase if there wasn't, how cud we know o' thim at all, but wan thing's sartain, they were just like us, axceptin' in the matther o' size, for wan ov thim 'ud make a dozen like the men that live now.

"Among the gionts that lived about the Causeway there was wan, a young giont named Finn O'Goolighan, that was the biggest av his kind, an' none o' thim cud hide in a kish. So Finn, for the size av him, was a livin'

terror. His little finger was the size av yer Anner's arrum, an' his wrist as big as yer leg, an' so he wint, bigger an' bigger. Whin he walked he carried an oak-tree for a shtick, ye cud crawl into wan av his shoes, an'

his caubeen 'ud cover a boat. But he was a good-humored young felly wid a laugh that 'ud deefen ye, an' a plazin' word for all he met, so as if ye run acra.s.s him in the road, he'd give ye 'good morrow kindly,' so as ye'd feel the betther av it all day. He'd work an' he'd play an' do aither wid all the might that was in him. Av a week day you'd see him in the field or on the sh.o.r.e from sun to sun as busy as a hen wid a dozen chicks; an' av a fair-day or av a Sunday, there he'd be, palatherin' at the girls, an'

dancin' jigs that he done wid extrame nateness, or havin' a bout wid a shtick on some other felly's head, an' indade, at that he was so clever that it was a delight for to see him, for he'd crack a giont's shkull that was as hard as a pot wid wan blow an' all the pleasure in life. So he got to be four or five an' twinty an' not his betther in the County Antrim.

"Wan fine day, his father, Bryan O'Goolighan, that was as big a giont as himself, says to him, says he, 'Finn, me Laddybuck, I'm thinkin' ye'll want to be gettin' marr'd.'

"'Not me,' says Finn.

"'An' why not?' says his father.

"'I've no consate av it,' says Finn.

"'Ye'd be the betther av it,' says his father.

"'Faix, I'm not sure o' that,' says Finn; 'gettin' marr'd is like turnin'

a corner, ye don't know phat ye're goin' to see,' says he.

"'Thrue for ye,' says owld Bryan, for he'd had axpayrience himself, 'but if ye'd a purty woman to make the stirabout for ye av a mornin' wid her own white hands, an' to watch out o' the dure for ye in the avenin,' an'

put on a sod o' turf whin she sees ye comin', ye'd be a betther man,' says he.

"'Bedad, it's not aisey for to conthravene that same,' says Finn, 'barrin'

I mightn't git wan like that. Wimmin is like angels,' says he. 'There's two kinds av 'em, an' the wan that shmiles like a dhrame o' heaven afore she's marr'd, is the wan that gits to be a tarin' divil afther her market's made an' she's got a husband.'

"Ye see Finn was a mighty smart young felly, if he was a giont, but his father didn't give up hope av gettin' him marr'd, for owld folks that's been through a dale o' throuble that-a-way always thries to get the young wans into the same thrap, beways, says they, av taichin' thim to larn something. But Bryan was a wise owld giont, an' knewn, as the Bible says, there's time enough for all things. So he quit him, an' that night he spake wid the owld woman an' left it wid her, as knowin' that whin it's a matther o' marryin', a woman is more knowledgable an' can do more to bring on that sort o' mis'ry in wan day than a man can in all the years G.o.d gives him.

"Now, in ordher that ye see the pint, I'm undher the need-cessity av axplainin' to yer Anner that Finn didn't be no manes have the hathred at wimmin that he purtinded, for indade he liked thim purty well, but he thought he undhershtood thim well enough to know that the more ye talk swate to thim, the more they don't like it, barrin' they're fools, that sometimes happens. So whin he talked wid 'em or about thim, he spake o'

thim shuperskillious, lettin' on to despize the lasht wan o' thim, that was a takin' way he had, for wimmin love thimselves a dale betther than ye'd think, unless yer Anner's marr'd an' knows, an' that Finn knew, so he always said o' thim the manest things he cud get out av his head, an' that made thim think av him, that was phat he wanted. They purtinded to hate him for it, but he didn't mind that, for he knewn it was only talk, an'

there wasn't wan o' thim that wouldn't give the lasht tooth out av her jaw to have him for a husband.

"Well, as I was sayin', afther owld Bryan give Finn up, his mother tuk him in hand, throwin' a hint at him wanst in a while, sighin' to him how glad she'd be to have a young lady giont for a dawther, an' dhroppin' a word about phat an iligant girl Burthey O'Ghallaghy was, that was the dawther av wan o' the naburs, that she got Finn, unbeknownst to himself, to be thinkin' about Burthey. She was a fine young lady giont, about tin feet high, as broad as a ca.s.sel dure, but she was good size for Finn, as ye know be phat I said av him. So when Finn's mother see him takin' her home from church afther benediction, an' the nabers towld her how they obsarved him lanin' on O'Ghallaghy's wall an' Burthey lightin' his pipe wid a coal, she thought to herself, 'fair an' aisey goes far in a day,' an' made her mind up that Finn 'ud marry Burthey. An' so, belike, he'd a' done, if he hadn't gone over, wan onlucky day, to the village beyant, where the common people like you an' me lived.

"When he got there, in he wint to the inn to get him his dhrink, for it's a mishtake to think that thim gionts were all blood-suckin' blaggards as the Causeway guides say, but, barrin' they were in dhrink, were as paceable as rabbits. So when Finn wint in, he says, 'G.o.d save ye,' to thim settin', an' gev the table a big crack wid his shillaylah as for to say he wanted his gla.s.s. But instead o' the owld granny that used for to fetch him his potheen, out shteps a nate little woman wid hair an' eyes as black as a crow an' two lips on her as red as a cherry an' a quick sharp way like a cat in a hurry.

"'An' who are you, me Dear?' says Finn, lookin' up.

"'I'm the new barmaid, Sorr, av it's plazin' to ye,' says she, makin' a curchey, an' lookin' shtrait in his face.

"'It is plazin',' says Finn. ''Tis I that's glad to be sarved be wan like you. Only,' says he, 'I know be the look o' yer eye ye 've a timper.'

"'Dade I have,' says she, talkin' back at him, 'an' ye'd betther not wake it.'

"Finn had more to say an' so did she, that I won't throuble yer Anner wid, but when he got his fill av dhrink an' said all he'd in his head, an' she kep' aven wid him at ivery pint, he wint away mightily plazed. The next Sunday but wan he was back agin, an' the Sunday afther, an' afther that agin. By an' by, he'd come over in the avenin' afther the work was done, an' lane on the bar or set on the table, talkin' wid the barmaid, for she was as sharp as a thornbush, an' sorra a word Finn 'ud say to her in impidince or anny other way, but she'd give him his answer afore he cud get his mouth shut.

"Now, be this time, Finn's mother had made up her mind that Finn 'ud marry Burthey, an' so she sent for the match-maker, an' they talked it all over, an' Finn's father seen Burthey's father, an' they settled phat Burthey 'ud get an' phat Finn was to have, an' were come to an agraymint about the match, onbeknownst to Finn, bekase it was in thim days like it is now, the matches bein' made be the owld people, an' all the young wans did was to go an' be marr'd an' make the best av it. Afther all, maybe that's as good a way as anny, for whin ye've got all the throuble on yer back ye can stagger undher, there's not a haporth o' differ whether ye got undher it yerself or whether it was put on ye, an' so it is wid gettin' marr'd, at laste so I'm towld.

"Annyhow, Finn's mother was busy wid preparin' for the weddin' whin she heard how Finn was afther puttin' in his time at the village.

"'Sure that won't do,' she says to herself; 'he ought to know betther than to be spendin' ivery rap he's got in dhrink an' gostherin' at that black-eyed huzzy, an' he to be marr'd to the best girl in the county.' So that night, when Finn come in, she spake fair an' soft to him that he'd give up goin' to the inn, an' get ready for to be marr'd at wanst. An'

that did well enough till she got to the marryin', when Finn riz up aff his sate, an' shut his taith so hard he bruk his pipestem to smithereens.

"'Say no more, mother,' he says to her. 'Burthey's good enough, but I wouldn't marry her if she was made av goold. Begob, she's too big. I want no hogs'ead av a girl like her,' says he. 'If I'm to be marr'd, I want a little woman. They're betther o' their size, an' it don't take so much to buy gowns for thim, naither do they ate so much,' says he.

"'A-a-ah, baithershin,' says his mother to him; 'phat d'ye mane be talkin'

that-a-way, an' me workin' me fingers to the bone clanin' the house for ye, an' relavin' ye av all the coortin' so as ye'd not be bothered in the laste wid it.'