The Poor Scholar Part 5

"'_Salvete Domini!_' said he, in good fresh Latin.

"'_Tu sis salvus, quoque!_' said I to him, for my comrade wasn't cute, an' I was always orathor.

"'_Unde veniti?_' said he, comin' over us wid another deep piece of larnin' the construction of which was, 'where do yez come from?'

"I replied, '_Per varios casus et tot discrimina rerum, venimus a Mayo._'

"'Good!' said he, 'you're bright; follow me.'

"So he brought us over to his own house, and ordered us bread and cheese and a posset; for it was Friday, an' we couldn't touch mate. He, in the mane time, sat an chatted along wid us. The thievin' cook, however, in makin' the posset, kept the curds to herself, except a slight taste here and there, that floated on the top; but she was liberal enough of the whey, any how.

"Now I had been well trained to fishing in my more youthful days; and no gorsoon could grope a trout wid me. I accordingly sent the spoon through the pond before me wid the skill of a connoisseur; but to no purpose--it came up wid nothin' but the whey.

"So, said I off hand to the gintleman, houlding up the bowl, and looking at it with a disappointed face,

'Apparent _rari_ nantes in gurgite vasto.'

'This,' says I, 'plase your hospitality, may be Paotolus, but the divil a taste o' the proper sand is in the bottom of it.'

"The wit of this, you see, pleased him, and we got an excellent treat in his _studium_, or study: for he was determined to give myself another trial.

"'What's the wickedest line in Virgil?' said he.

"Now I had Virgil at my fingers' ends, so I answered him:

'Flectere si nequeo superos, Aeheronta movebo,'

"'Very good,' said he, 'you have the genius, and will come to somethin'

yet: now tell me the most moral line in Virgil.'

"I answered:

'Discere just.i.tiam moniti et non temnere divos.' *

* He is evidently drawing the long-bow here; this anecdote has been told before.

"'Depend upon it,' said he, 'you will be a luminary. The morning star will be but a farthing candle to you; and if you take in the learning as you do the cheese, in a short time there won't be a man in Munsther fit to teach you,' and he laughed, for you see he had a tendency to jocosity.

"He did not give me up here, however, being determined to go deeper wid me.

"'Can you translate a newspaper into Latin prose?' said he.

"Now the divil a one o' me was just then sure about the prose, so I was goin' to tell him; but before I had time to speak, he thrust the paper into my hand, and desired me to thranslate half-a-dozen barbarous advertis.e.m.e.nts.

"The first that met me was about a reward offered for a Newfoundland dog and a terrier, that had been stolen from a fishing-tackle manufacturer, and then came a list of his shabby merchandise, ending with a long-winded encomium upon his gunpowder, shot, and double-barrelled guns. Now may I be shot with a blank cartridge, if I ever felt so much at an amplush in my life, and I said so.

"'Your honor has hooked me wid the fishing hooks,' said I; 'but I grant the cheese was good bait, any how.'

"So he laughed heartily, and bid me go on.

"Well, I thought the first was difficult: but the second was Masoretic to it--something about drawbacks, excis.e.m.e.n, and a long custom-house list, that would puzzle Publius Virgilius Maro, if he was set to translate it. However, I went through wid it as well as I could; where I couldn't find Latin, I laid in the Greek, and where the Greek failed me, I gave the Irish, which, to tell the truth, in consequence of its vernacularity, I found to be the most convanient. Och, och many a larned scrimmage I have signalized myself in, during my time. Sure my name's as common as a mail-coach in Thrinity College; and 'tis well known there isn't a fellow in it but I could sack, except may be, the prowost.

That's their own opinion. 'Corcoran,' says the prowost, 'is the most larned man in Ireland; an' I'm not ashamed,' says he, 'to acknowledge that I'd rather decline meeting him upon deep points.' Ginteels, all your healths--hem! But among ourselves I could bog him in a very short time; though I'd scorn to deprive the gintleman of his reputaytion or his place, even if he sent me a challenge of larnin' to-morrow, although he's too cute to venture on doing that--hem, hem!"

To hear an obscure creature, whose name was but faintly known in the remote parts even of the parish in which he lived, draw the long-bow at such a rate, was highly amusing. The credulous character of his auditory, however, was no slight temptation to him; for he knew that next to the legends of their saints, or the Gospel itself, his fictions ranked in authenticity; and he was determined that it should not be his fault if their opinion of his learning and talents were not raised to the highest point. The feeling experienced by the poor scholar, when he awoke the next morning, was one both of satisfaction and sorrow. He thought once more of his home and kindred, and reflected that it might be possible he had I seen the last of his beloved relations. His grief, however, was checked when he remembered the warm and paternal affection with which he was received on the preceding night by his hospitable countryman. He offered up his prayers to G.o.d; humbly besought his grace and protection; nor did he forget to implore a blessing upon those who I had thus soothed his early sorrows, and afforded him, though a stranger and friendless, I shelter, comfort, and sympathy.

"I hope," thought he, "that I will meet many such, till I overcome my difficulties, an' find myself able to a.s.sist my poor father an' mother!"

And he did meet many such among the humble, and despised, and neglected of his countrymen; for--and we say it with pride--the character of this excellent farmer is thoroughly that of our peasantry within the range of domestic life.

When he had eaten a comfortable breakfast, and seen his satchel stuffed with provision for his journey, the farmer brought him up to his own room, in which were also his wife and children.

"G.o.d," said he, "has been good to me; blessed be his holy name!--betther it appears in one sinse, than he has been to you, dear, though maybe I don't desarve it as well. But no matther, acushla; I have it, an' you want it; so here's a thrifle to help your forrid in your larnin'; an'

all I ax from you is to offer up a bit of a prayer for me, of an odd time, an' if ever you live to be a priest, to say, if it wouldn't be throublesome, one Ma.s.s for me an' those that you see about me. It's not much, James agra--only two guineas. They may stand your friend, whin friends will be scarce wid you; though, I hope, that won't be the case aither."

The tears were already streaming down. Jemmy's cheeks. "Oh," said the artless boy, "G.o.d forever reward you! but sure I have a great dale of money in the--in the--cuff o' my coat. Indeed I have, an' I won't want it!"

The farmer, affected by the utter simplicity of the lad, looked at his wife and smiled, although a tear stood in his eye at the time. She wiped her eyes with her ap.r.o.n, and backed the kind offer of her husband.

"Take it, asth.o.r.e," she added, "in your cuff! Musha, G.o.d help you! sure it's not much you or the likes of you can have in your cuff, avourneen!

Don't be ashamed, but take it; we can well afford it, glory be to G.o.d for it! It's not, agra, bekase you're goin' the way you are--though that same's an honor to you--but bekase our hearts warmed to you, that we offered it, an' bekase we would wish you to be thinkin' of us now an'

thin, when you're in a strange part of the country. Let me open your pocket an' put them into it. That's a good, boy, thank you, an' G.o.d bless an' prosper you! I'm sure you were always biddable."

"Now childre," said the farmer, addressing his sons and daughters, "never see the sthranger widout a friend, nor wantin' a bed or a dinner, when you grow up to be men an' women. There's many a turn in this world; we may be strangers ourselves; an' think of what I would feel if any of you was far from me, widout money or friends, when I'd hear that you met a father in a strange counthry that lightened your hearts by his kindness. Now, dear, the carts 'll be ready in no time--eh? Why there they are at the gate waitin' for you. Get into one of them, an' they'll lave you in the next town. Come, roan, budan' age, be stout-hearted, an'

don't cry; sure we did nothin' for you to spake of."

He shook the poor scholar by the hand, and drawing his hat over his eyes, pa.s.sed hurriedly out of the room. Alley stooped down, kissed his lips, and wept; and the children each embraced him with that mingled feeling of compa.s.sion and respect which is uniformly entertained for the poor scholar in Ireland.

The boy felt as if he had been again separated from his parents; with a sobbing bosom and wet cheeks he bid them farewell, and mounting one of the carts was soon beyond sight and hearing of the kind-hearted farmer and his family.

When the cart had proceeded about a mile, it stopped, and one of the men who accompanied it addressing a boy who pa.s.sed with two sods of turf under his arm, desired him to hurry on and inform his master that they waited for him.

"Tell Misther Corcoran to come into coort," said the man, laughing, "my Lordship's waitin' to hear his defince for intindin' not to run away wid Miss Judy Malowny. Tell him Lord Garty's ready to pa.s.s sintince on him for not stalin' the heart of her wid his Rule o' Three. Ha! by the holy farmer, you'll get it for stayin' from school to this hour. Be quick, abouchal!"

In a few minutes the trembling urchin, glad of any message that might serve to divert the dreaded birch from himself, entered the, uproarious "Siminary," caught his forelock, bobbed down his head to the master, and pitched his "two sods" into a little'heap of turf which lay in the corner of the school.

"Arrah, Pat Roach, is this an hour to inter into my establishment wid impunity? Eh, you Rosicrusian?"

"Masther, sir," replied the adroit monkey, "I've a message for you, sir, i' you plase."

"An' what might the message be, Masther; Pat Roach? To dine to-day wid your worthy father, abouchal?"

"No, sir; it's from one o' Mr. Lanigan's boys--him that belongs to the carts, sir; he wants to spake to you, sir, i' you plase."

"An' do you give that by way of an apologetical oration for your absence from the advantages of my tuition until this hour? However, non constat Patrici; I'll pluck the crow wid you on my return. If you don't find yourself a well-flogged youth for your 'mitchin,' never say that this right hand can administer condign punishment to that part of your physical theory which const.i.tutes the ant.i.thesis to your vacuum caput.

En et ewe, you villain," he added, pointing to the birch, "it's newly cut and trimmed, and pregnant wid alacrity for the operation. I correct, Patricius, on fundamental principles, which you'll soon feel to your cost."

"Masther, sir," replied the lad, in a friendly, conciliating tone, "my father 'ud be oblaged to you, if you'd take share of a fat goose wid him to-morrow."

"Go to your sate, Paddy, avourneen; devil a dacent boy in the seminary I joke--so much wid, as I do wid yourself; an' all out of respect for your worthy parents. Faith, I've a great regard for them, all out, an' tell them so."