The Poor Scholar Part 7

"I know that, Thady; and Misther O'Brien thinks, because he himself first pa.s.sed through that overgrown hedge-school wid slates upon the roof of it, called Thrinity College, and matriculated in Maynooth afther, that he has legal authority to recommend every young vagrant to the gratuitous benefits of legitimate cla.s.sicality. An' I suppose, that you are acting the Pathrun, too, Thady, and intind to take this young wild-goose under your protection?"

"Why, sir, isn't he a poor scholar? Sure he mustn't want his bit an'

sup, nor his night's lodgin', anyhow. You're to give him his larnin'

only, sir."

"I suppose so, Mr. Thaddeus; but this is the penalty of celebrity. If I weren't so celebrated a man for cla.s.sics as I am, I would have none of this work. I tell you, Thady, if I had fifty sons I wouldn't make one o'

them celebrated."

"Wait till you have one first, sir, and you may make him as great a numskull as you plase, Master."

"But in the meantime, Thady, I'll have no dictation from you, as to whether I have one or fifty; or as to whether he'll be an a.s.s or a Newton. I say that a dearth of larnin' is like a year of famine in Ireland. When the people are hard pushed, they bleed the fattest bullocks, an' live on their blood; an' so it is wid us Academicians.

It's always he that has the most larned blood in his veins, and the greatest quant.i.ty of it that such hungry leeches fasten on."

"Thrue for you, sir," said the youth with a smile; "but they say the bullocks always fatten the betther for it. I hope you'll bleed well now, sir."

"Thady, I don't like, the curl of your nose; an', moreover, I have always found you p.r.o.ne to sedition. You remember your conduct at the 'Barring out.' I tell you it's well that your worthy father is a dacent wealthy man, or I'd be apt to give you a _memoria technica_ on the _subtratum_, Thady."

"G.o.d be praised for my father's wealth, sir! But I'd never wish to have a good memory in the way you mention."

"Faith, an' I'll be apt to add that to your other qualities, if you don't take care of yourself."

"I want no such addition, Masther; if you do, you'll be apt to subtract yourself from this neighborhood, an', maybe, ther'e won't be more than a cipher gone out of it, afther all."

"Thady, you're a wag," exclaimed the crestfallen pedagogue; "take the lad to your own sate, and show him his task. How! is your sister's sore throat, Thady?"

"Why, sir," replied the benevolent young wit, "she's betther than I am.

She can swallow more, sir."

"Not of larnin', Thady; there you've the widest gullet in the parish."

"My father's the richest man in it, Masther," replied Thady. "I think, sir, my! gullet and his purse are much about the same size--wid you."

"Thady, you're first-rate at a reply;--but exceedingly deficient in the retort courteous. Take the lad to your sate, I say, and see how far he is advanced, and what he is fit for. I suppose, as you are so ginerous, you will volunteer to tache him yourself."

"I'll do that wid pleasure, sir; but I'd like to know whether you intind to tache him or not."

"An' I'd like to know, Thady, who's to pay me for it, if I do. A purty return Michael Rooney made me for making him such a linguist as he is.

'You're a tyrant,' said he, when he grew up, 'and instead of expecting me to thank you for your instructions, you ought to thank me for not preparing you for the county hospital, as a memento of the cruelty and brutality you made me feel, when I had the misfortune to be a poor scholar! under you.' And so, because he became curate of the parish, he showed me the outside of it."

"But will you tache this poor young boy, sir?"

"Let me know who's to guarantee his payments."

"I have money myself, sir, to pay you for two years," replied Jemmy.

'They told me, sir, that you were a great scholar, an' I refused to stop in other schools by rason of the name you have for Latin and Greek."

"Verb.u.m sat," exclaimed the barefaced knave. "Come here. Now, you see, I persave you have dacency. Here is your task; get that half page by heart. You have a cute look, an' I've no doubt but the stuff's in you.

Come to me afther dismiss, 'till we have a little talk together."

He accordingly pointed out the task, after which he placed him at his side, lest the inexperienced boy might be put on his guard by any of the scholars. In this intention, however, he was frustrated by Thady, who, as he thoroughly detested the knavish tyrant, resolved to caution the poor scholar against his dishonesty. Thady, indeed most heartily despised the mercenary pedagogue, not only for his obsequiousness to the rich, but on account of his severity to the children of the poor. About two o'clock the young wag went out for a few minutes, and immediately returned in great haste to inform the master, that Mr. Delaney, the parish priest, and two other gentlemen wished to see him over at the Cross-Keys, an inn which was kept at a place called the Nine Mile House, within a few perches of the school. The parish priest, though an ignorant, insipid old man, was the master's patron, and his slightest wish a divine law to him. The little despot, forgetting his prey, instantly repaired to the Cross-Keys, and in his absence, Thady, together with the larger boys of the school, made M'Evoy acquainted with the fraud about to be practised on him.

"His intintion," said they, "is to keep you at home to-night, in ordher to get whatever money you have into his own hands, that he may keep it safe for you; but if you give him a penny, you may bid farewell to it.

Put it in the curate's hands," added Thady, "or in my father's, an' thin it'll be safe. At all evints, don't stay wid him this night. He'll take your money and then turn you off in three or four weeks."

"I didn't intind to give him my money," replied Jemmy; "a schoolmaster I met on my way here, bid me not to do it. I'll give it to the priest."

"Give it to the curate," said Thady--"wid him it'll be safe; for the parish priest doesn't like to throuble himself wid anything of the mind."

This was agreed upon; the boy was prepared against the designs of the master, and a plan laid down for his future conduct. In the meantime, the latter re-entered the school in a glow of indignation and disappointment.

Thady, however, disregarded him; and as the master knew that the influence of the boy's father could at any time remove him from the parish, his anger subsided without any very violent consequences. The parish priest was his avowed patron, it is true; but if the parish priest knew that Mr. O'Rorke was dissatisfied with him, that moment he would join Mr. O'Rorke in expelling him: from the neighborhood. Mr.

O'Rorke was a wealthy and a hospitable man, but the schoolmaster was neither the one nor the other.

During school-hours that day, many a warm-hearted urchin entered into conversation with the poor scholar; some moved by curiosity to hear his brief and simple history; others anxious to offer him a temporary asylum in their father's houses; and several to know if he had the requisite books, a.s.suring him if he had not they would lend, them to him. These proofs of artless generosity touched the homeless youth's heart the more acutely, inasmuch as he could perceive but too clearly that the eye of the master rested upon him, from time to time, with no auspicious glance.

When the scholars were dismissed, a scene occurred which was calculated to produce a smile, although it certainly placed the poor scholar in a predicament by no means agreeable. It resulted from a contest among the boys as to who should first bring him home. The master who, by that cunning for which the knavish are remarkable, had discovered in the course of the day that his designs upon the boy's money was understood, did not ask him to his house. The contest was, therefore, among the scholars; who, when the master had disappeared from the school-room, formed themselves into a circle, of which Jemmy was the centre, each pressing his claim to secure him.

"The right's wid me," exclaimed Thady; "I stood to him all day, and I say I'll have him for this night. Come wid me, Jimmy. Didn't I do most for you to-day?"

"I'll never forget your kindness," replied poor Jemmy, quite alarmed at the boisterous symptoms of pugilism which already began to appear. In fact, many a tiny fist was shut, as a suitable, accompaniment to the auguments with which they enforced their a.s.sumed rights.

"There, now," continued Thady, "that I puts an ind to it; he says he'll never forget my kindness. That's enough; come wid me, Jimmy."

"Is it enough?" said a lad, who, if his father was less wealthy than Thady's, was resolved to put strength of arm against strength of purse.

"Maybe it isn't enough! I say I bar it, if your fadher was fifty times as rich!--Rich! Arrah, don't be comin' over us in regard of your riches, man alive! I'll bring the sthrange boy home this very night, an' it isn't your father's dirty money that'll prevint me."

"I'd advise you to get a double ditch about your nose," replied Thady, "before you begin to say anything disrespectful aginst my father.--Don't think to ballyrag over me. I'll bring the boy, for I have the best right to him. Didn't I do (* outwit) the masther on his account?"

"A double ditch about my nose?"

"Aye!"

"Are you able to fight me?"

"I'm able to thry it, anyhow, an' willin too."

"Do you say you're able to fight me?"

"I'll bring the boy home whether or not."

"Thady's not your match, Jack Ratigan," said another boy. "Why don't you challenge your match?"

"If you say a word, I'll half-sole your eye. Let him say whether he's able to fight me like a man or not. That's the chat."

"Half-sole my eye! Thin here I am, an' why don't you do it. You're crowin' over a boy that you're bigger than. I'll fight you for Thady.

Now half-sole my eye if you dar! Eh? Here's my eye, now! Arrah, be the holy man, I'd--Don't we know the white hen's in you. Didn't Barny Murtagh cow you at the black-pool, on Thursday last, whin we wor bathin'?"

"Come, Ratigan," said Thady, "peel an' turn out. I say, I am able to fight you; an' I'll make you ate your words aginst my father, by way of givin' you your dinner. An' I'll make the dacent strange boy walk home wid me over your body--that is, if he'd not be afraid to dirty his feet."