The Whale and the Grasshopper Part 29

"No doubt about it," said Padna.

"And 'twas by writing down his thoughts on the bark of trees that he spent his time," said Micus.

"Yes," said Padna. "And 'tis better a man should write down his thoughts, and then forget them, than to leave them die in his mind, or maybe eat into his heart and send him to an early grave."

"Many a man went to his grave for saying too much," said Micus.

"And many a man went to his grave for saying nothing at all,"

said Padna.

THE KING OF GOULNASPURRA

"The cold has left the breeze, the lonely moon sails over the hills, bats are on the wing, the owl rests on the barn door, the badger is gone in search of his prey, the otter scurries through the stream, and the nightingale with his rich, melodious note fills the air with sweetness," said Padna to his friend Micus.

"It is a glorious night for a ramble," said Micus, "and as we have nothing to do, we might as well take a stroll through the woods, and we may find something to talk about. I too like to watch the moon wandering all alone through the sky at the dead of the night, and no one to keep her company but the stars, and they no company for any one but the poets themselves."

"And the poets are the best company in the whole world," said Padna, "except the dead and they that can't do an injury to any one at all. However, the moon does be kept busy throwing light on a troubled world, and sometimes as she floats through the sky I seem to see a blush on her face as though she was shocked at the badness that steals into the hearts of the young and the old at the close of day. Night is the time that the Devil has his fling, and evil lurks behind everything that is beautiful and enchanting. When there is no moon in the sky, badness does be everywhere, and there does be trembling in every innocent heart until the darkness of night is dispelled by the rising sun, and the first chirrup of the birds is heard, and the c.o.c.k's shrill crow tells us that day is come."

"The power and majesty of the sun is astounding. With a grace and a gentleness beyond compare, he closes the door of night and greets the waking world with a smile. And the man who can find pleasure looking at the moon in a starry sky should be as happy as a king upon his throne," said Micus.

"Kings," said Padna, "are expensive ornaments, but they are not always happy, if what we hear is true. And the only difference between a king and an ordinary poor man, like one of ourselves, is that we must pay for what we eat, whereas kings get paid for eating, drinking, carousing, and doing what they please."

"The real difference between a king and the common man is a lot of bra.s.sy b.u.t.tons, a high hat with an ostrich plume in it maybe, a silver sword at his side, gold buckles on his shoes, and a few medals on his breast," said Micus.

"And what does a king want a sword for?" said Padna.

"You might as well ask me what do we want kings for, and why they get so much for all the things they don't do. And sure, you wouldn't know a king from any other man if you saw him in his nightshirt. Kingship is the easiest of all professions and the hardest of all trades, because once a man is a king he has no chance of getting a rest until some one fires a bomb at his head or puts poison in his tea," said Micus.

"Well," said Padna, "there is a compensation in all things, and when a man is not fit for anything else, it is a good job for him that he can be a king."

"I suppose," said Micus, "you never heard tell of the King of Goulnaspurra?"

"I did not," said Padna. "Who the blazes was he?"

"He was a distant relation of my own on the wife's side, and so called because he was the best man in a town of two dozen inhabitants,"

said Micus.

"And what did he do for a living at all?" said Padna.

"He was a mason by trade, and 'tis said that he built more ditches than all the kings in Christendom put together, and there wasn't a better birdcatcher in the whole country than himself. Well, after he had worked some forty years or more in all kinds of weather, he found himself at last on the flat of his back in the Poorhouse Hospital, and no better to look at than an old sweeping brush worn to the stump and kept in the back yard for beating the dogs. And there he remained pining away like a s...o...b..ll in the sun, until one day the doctor, who wanted a little exercise and diversion, approached him and ses: 'Good morrow, Malachi, King of Goulnaspurra,' ses he.

"'Good morrow kindly and good luck,' ses Malachi. 'What's the best news to-day?'

"'Oh,' ses the doctor, 'the poor are thought as little about as ever, and the same friendly relations exist between the clergy and the rich.'

"'G.o.d forgive the clergy for their respectability. It spoils some to make gentlemen of them,' ses Malachi.

"'That's true,' ses the doctor, 'but now as regards yourself, I want to tell you that you needn't worry about looking for a job any more, because you will either be above with St. Patrick and his chums by this day week, or somewhere else. It all depends on how you behaved yourself.'

"'Won't you take a chair and sit down for awhile?' ses Malachi. 'That's the first bit of strange news I have had since I heard that England made the discovery that the most stupid thing she ever did was to treat the Irish badly.'

"'Thanks for your kind offer,' ses the doctor, 'but I am in a hurry to-day. I think that I prescribed a.r.s.enic instead of olive oil for one of my patients in Tipperary last week. So I must go and see how he is getting along, and if I don't get there in time to cure him inself, I'll be in time for the funeral, though 'tis against the rules of my profession to attend the funerals of your patients, whether you are responsible or not for their death. But 'tis all the same to us. We get paid anyway.'

"'Olive oil is good for the hair, I believe,' ses the King of Goulnaspurra, 'and they say 'tis a cure for a toothache also.'

"'Olive oil is all right in its way,' ses the doctor, 'but there's nothing like a good drop of whiskey on a cold night if you are not feeling well.'

"'Now,' ses Malachi, 'with reference to that little matter, I mean my journey to the land of the mighty dead; all I can say is that 'tis better a man should die when he is out of employment like myself, than die when he has a good job. But as we must all die some time, there is no reason why we shouldn't emulate the ancient philosophers, when we are no more use to ourselves or any one else, and shuffle off this mortal coil by drinking our health, so to speak, in a gla.s.s of hemlock. Life, anyway,' ses he, 'is a feast for some, a famine for others, and a puzzle to all. Some think so little about it that they are dead before they realize what has happened, and others don't know that they are alive at all until they are married. Howsomever,' ses he, 'our own affairs are always interesting to ourselves, so I must now make my will before I die.' And then and there he asked for pen, ink, and paper, and this is what he wrote:

"'I, Malachi, King of Goulnaspurra, bequeath the hard earnings of years of trials and tribulations for the purchase of a stained gla.s.s window with my name at the end of it, to be placed in the village church so that those who didn't give a traneen about me when I was alive, including the clergy themselves, may think kindly of me when I am dead.

"'To my son and heir, Henry Joseph Michael John Dorgan, Crown Prince of Goulnaspurra, I bequeath, in recognition of his indifference to me while I lived, one shilling and sixpence, and the Devil's blessing which is commonly called the curse of Cromwell. Besides, I am also desirous that he should inherit my bad temper, bad habits, rheumatics, gout, and all the other hereditary complaints of the family.

"'To my first cousin Padeen Dooley, the King of Ballinadurraka, I bequeath my large hand trowel and hammer, and to the Emperor of j.a.pan I bequeath all my old clothes, either to be used by himself after the invasion of his country by the suffragettes, or to be placed in a museum with other kingly relics, after freedom of speech has killed monarchy. To the clergy I bequeath an abundance of good wishes to be distributed liberally among the poor, so that they may thrive on them in the absence of anything better. To the needy people of all nations, I bequeath the privileges of the army and navy in times of war, and to everyone in general I bequeath all they can get from their friends for nothing.'

"And with that he laid down his pen, closed his eyes, and so pa.s.sed to the land of no returning Malachi Dorgan, King of Goulnaspurra,"

said Micus.

By the author of "The Whale and the Gra.s.shopper and Other Fables"

DUTY, and Other Irish Comedies

By SEUMAs...o...b..IEN

Frontispiece portrait. 12mo. $1.25 net.

The rich Irish humor and the delightful philosophy of Seumas...o...b..ien are to be found in the five one-act comedies that make up this volume just as they are ever present in his fiction. "Duty," which is probably the best known of his dramatic work, was performed with great success by the Irish players during their American tour in 1914. The others are ent.i.tled "Magnanimity," "Jurisprudence," "Retribution,"

and "Matchmakers." All of them are notable for hilarious situations, clever character drawing, and bright dialogue, some of it so delicious as to bear comparison with the talk of Thomas Hardy's country folk.

"In Seumas...o...b..ien I believe that America has found a new humorist of popular sympathies, a rare observer and philosopher whose very absurdities have a persuasive philosophy of their own."--Edward J. O'Brien in the Boston Transcript.

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