Phil Purcel, The Pig-Driver; The Geography Of An Irish Oath; The Lianhan Shee Part 8

Thin she's takin' to the dhrink, too, the poor misfortunate vagabone!"

"Well, well, that's no affair o' yours, or mine aither--only don't be risin' ructions and norrations wid her. You _threwn_ a jug at her the last day you war out, an' hot the poor ould Potticary as he was pa.s.sin'.

You see I hard that, though you kept it close from me!--ha, ha, ha!"

"Ha, ha, ha!--why you'd split if you had seen the crathur whin he fell into Pether White's brogue-creels, wid his heels up. But what right had she to be sthrivin' to bring away my customers afore my face? Ailey Dogherty was buying a crock wid me, and Nelly shouts over to her from where she sot like a queen on her stool, 'Ailey,' says she, 'here's a betther one for three fardens less, an' another farden 'ill get you a pennorth o' salt.' An', indeed, Ailey walks over, manely enough, an'

tuck her at her word. Why, flesh an' blood couldn't bear it."

"Indeed, an' you're raal flesh and blood, Ellish, if that's thrue."

"Well, but consarnin' what I mintioned awhile agone--hut! the poor mad crathur, let us have no more discoorse about her--I say, that no one ever thrives so well as when the world sees that they are gettin' an, an' prosperin'; but if there's not an appearance, how will any one know whether we are prosperin' or not, barrin' they see some sign of it about us; I mane, in a quiet rasonable way, widout show or extravagance. In the name o' goodness, thin, let us get the house brushed up, an' the outhouses dashed. A bushel or two of lime 'ill make this as white as an egg widin, an' a very small expinse will get it plastered, and whitewashed widowt. Wouldn't you like it, avourneen? Eh, Pether?"

"To be sure I'd like it. It'll give a respectful look to the house and place."

"Ay, an' it'll bring customers, that's the main thing. People always like to come to a snug, comfortable place. An', plase G.o.d, I'm thinkin'

of another plan that I'll soon mintion."

"An' what may that be, you skamer? Why, Ellish, you've ever and always some skam'e or other in that head o' yours. For my part, I don't know how you get at them."

"Well, no matter, acushla, do you only back me; just show me how I ought to go on wid them, for n.o.body can outdo you at such things, an' I'll engage we'll thrive yit, always wid a blessin' an us."

"Why, to tell G.o.d's thruth, I'd bate the devil himself at plannin' out, an' bringin' a thing to a conclusion--eh, you deludher?"

"The sarra doubt of it; but takin' the other farm was the brightest thought I seen wid you yit. Will you do it, avillish?"

"To be sure. Don't I say it? An' it'll be up wid the lark wid me. Hut, woman, you don't see the half o' what's in me, yet."

"I'll buy you a hat and a pair o' stockins at Christmas."

"Will you, Ellish? Then, by the book, I'll work like a horse."

"I didn't intind to tell you, but I had it laid out for you."

"Faith, you're a beauty, Ellish. What'll we call this young chap that's comin', acushla?"

"Now, Pether, none o' your capers. It's time enough when the thing happens to be thinkin' o' that, Glory be to G.o.d!"

"Well, you may talk as you plase, but I'll call him Pether."

"An' how do you know but he'll be a girl, you omadhawn?"

"Murdher alive, ay, sure enough! Faith, I didn't think o' that!"

"Well, go up now an' spake to Misther Eccles about the land; maybe somebody else 'ud slip in afore us, an' that wouldn't be pleasant.

Here's your brave big coat, put it an; faix, it makes a man of you--gives you a bodagh* look entirely; but that's little to what you'll be yet, wid a blessin'--a Half-Sir, any way."

* This word is used in Ireland sometimes in a good and sometimes in a bad sense. For instance, the peasantry will often say in allusion to some individual who may happen to be talked of, "Hut! he's a dirty bodagh;" but again, you may hear them use it in a sense directly the reverse of this; for instance, "He's a very dacent man, and looks the bodagh entirely." As to the "Half sir," he stands about half-way between the bodagh and the gentleman, Bodagh--signifying churl--was applied originally as a term of reproach to the English settlers.

In fact, Ellish's industry had already gained a character for both herself and her husband. He got credit for the a.s.siduity and activity to which she trained him: and both were respected for their cleverness in advancing themselves from so poor a beginning to the humble state of independence they had then reached. The farm which Ellish was so anxious to secure was the property of the gentleman from whom they held the other. Being a man of sense and penetration, he fortunately saw--what, indeed, was generally well known--that Peter and Ellish were rising in the world, and that their elevation was the consequence of their own unceasing efforts to become independent, so that industry is in every possible point of view its own reward. So long as the farm was open to compet.i.tion the offers for it multiplied prodigiously, and rose in equal proportion. Persons not worth twenty shillings in the world offered double the rent which the utmost stretch of ingenuity, even with suitable capital, could pay. New-married couples, with nothing but the strong imaginative hopes peculiar to their country, proposed for it in a most liberal spirit. Men who had been ejected out of their late farms for non-payment of rent, were ready to cultivate this at a rent much above that which, on better land, they were unable to pay. Others, who had been ejected from farm after farm--each of which they undertook as a mere speculation, to furnish them with present subsistence, but without any ultimate expectation of being able to meet their engagements--came forward with the most laudable efforts. This gentleman, however, was none of those landlords who are so besotted and ignorant of their own interests, as to let their lands simply to the highest bidders, without taking into consideration their capital, moral character, and habits of industry. He resided at home, knew his tenants personally, took an interest in their successes and difficulties, and instructed them in the best modes of improving their farms.

Peter's first interview with him was not quite satisfactory on either side. The honest man was like a ship without her rudder, when transacting business in the absence of his wife. The fact was, that on seeing the high proposals which were sent in, he became alarmed lest, as he flattered himself, that the credit of the transaction should be all his own, the farm might go into the hands of another, and his character for cleverness suffer with Ellish. The landlord was somewhat astounded at the rent which a man who bore so high a name for prudence offered him. He knew it was considerably beyond what the land was worth, and he did not wish that any tenant coming upon his estate should have no other prospect than that of gradually receding into insolvency.

"I cannot give you any answer now," said he to Peter; "but if you will call in a day or two I shall let you know my final determination."

Peter, on coming home, rendered an account of his interview with the landlord to his wife, who no sooner heard of the extravagant proposal he made, than she raised her hands and eyes, exclaiming--

"Why, thin, Pether, alanna, was it beside yourself you wor, to go for to offer a rint that no one could honestly pay! Why, man alive, it 'ud lave us widout house or home in do time, all out! Sure Pettier, acushla, where 'ud be the use of us or any one takin' land, barrin' they could make somethin' by it? Faix, if the gintleman had sinse, he wouldn't give the same farm to anybody at sich a rint; an' for good rasons too--bekase they could never pay it, an' himself 'ud be the sufferer in the long run."

"Dang me, but you're the long-headedest woman alive this day, Ellish.

Why, I never wanst wint into the rason o' the thing, at all. But you don't know the offers he got."

"Don't I? Why do you think he'd let the Mullins, or the Conlans, or the O'Donog-hoes, or the Duffys, upon his land, widout a shillin' in one o'

their pockets to stock it, or to begin workin' it properly wid. Hand me my cloak from the pin there, an' get your hat. Katty, avourneen, have an eye to the house till we come back; an' if d.i.c.k Murphy comes here to get tobaccy on score, tell him I can't afford it, till he pays up what he got. Come, Pether, in the name o' goodness--come, abouchal."

Ellish, during their short journey to the landlord's, commenced, in her own way, a lecture upon agricultural economy, which, though plain and unvarnished, contained excellent and practical sense. She also pointed out to him when to speak and when to be silent; told him what rent to offer, and in what manner he should offer it; but she did all this so dexterously and sweetly, that honest Peter thought the new and corrected views which she furnished him with, were altogether the result of his own penetration. The landlord was at home when they arrived, and ordered them into the parlor, where he soon made his appearance.

"Well, Connell," said he, smiling, "are you come to make me a higher offer?"

"Why thin no, plase your honor," replied Peter, looking for confidence to Ellish: "instead o' that, sir, Ellish here--"

"Never heed me, alanna; tell his honor what you've to say, out o' the face. Go an acushla."

"Why, your honor, to tell the blessed thruth, the d.i.c.kens a bit o'

myself but had a sup in my head when I was wid your honor to-day before."

Ellish was thunderstruck at this most unexpected apology from Peter; but the fact was, that the instructions which she had given him on their way had completely evaporated from his brain, and he felt himself thrown altogether upon his own powers of invention. Here, however, he was at home; for it was well known among all his acquaintances, that, however he might be deficient in the management of a family when compared to his wife, he was capable, notwithstanding, of exerting a certain imaginative faculty in a very high degree. Ellish felt that to contradict him on the spot must lessen both him and herself in the opinion of the landlord, a circ.u.mstance that would have given her much pain.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Connell," said Mr. Eccles; "you bear the character of being strictly sober in your habits. You must have been early at the bottle, too, which makes your apology rather unhappy. Of all tipplers, he who drinks early is the worst and most incurable."

"Thrue for you, sir, but this only happens me wanst a year, your honor."

"Once a year! But, by the by, you had no appearance of being tipsy, Peter."

"Tipsy! Bud-a'-age, your honor, I was never seen tipsy in all my life,"

said Peter,--"That's a horse of another color, sir, plase your honor."

The reader must at once perceive that Peter here was only recovering himself from the effects of the injurious impression which his first admission was calculated to produce against him in the mind of his landlord. "Tipsy! No, no, sir; but the rason of it, sir, was this: it bein' my birthday, sir, I merely tuck a sup in the mornin', in honor o'

the day. It's altogether a lucky day to me, sir!"

"Why, to be sure, every man's birthday may, probably, be called such--the gift of existence being, I fear, too much undervalued."

"Bedad, your honor, I don't mane that, at all."

"Then what do you mean, Peter?"

"Why, sir, you see, it's not that I was _entirely_ born on this day, but partly, sir; I was marrid to Ellish here into the bargain,--one o'

the best wives, sir--however, I'll say no more, as she's to the fore herself. But, death alive, sir, sure when we put both conclusions together--myself bein' sich a worthy man, and Ellish such a tip-top wife, who could blame me for smellin' the bottle?--for divil a much more I did--about two gla.s.ses, sir--an' so it got up into my head a little when I was wid your honor to-day before."

"But what is the amount of all this, Peter?"