Book: Handy Andy, Vol. 2

S >> Samuel Lover >> Handy Andy, Vol. 2




"No," said Gustavus, "though I take care to mount one in my hat every
Patrick's day."

"Well," said Edward, anxious to give Gustavus credit for _any_
knowledge he possessed, "you know at least it is connected with the
memory of St. Patrick, though you don't know why. I will tell you.
When St. Patrick first preached the Christian faith in Ireland, before
a powerful chief and his people, when he spoke of one God, and of
the Trinity, the chief asked how one could be in three. St. Patrick,
instead of attempting a theological definition of the faith, thought
a simple image would best serve to enlighten a simple people, and
stooping to the earth he plucked from the green sod a shamrock, and
holding up the trefoil before them he bade them there behold one in three.
The chief, struck by the illustration, asked at once to be baptised, and
all his sept followed his example."

"I never heard that before," said Gusty. "'T is very beautiful."

"I will tell you something else connected with it," said Edward.

"After baptising the chief, St. Patrick made an eloquent exhortation to
the assembled multitude, and in the course of his address, while enforcing
his urgent appeal with appropriate gesture, as the hand which held his
crosier, after being raised towards heaven, descended again towards the
earth, the point of his staff, armed with metal, was driven through the
foot of the chief, who, fancying it was part of the ceremony, and but a
necessary testing of the firmness of his faith, never winced."

"He was a fine fellow," said Gusty. "And is that the crosier?" he added,
alluding to the one in Edward's collection, and manifestly excited by what
he had heard.

"No," said Edward, "but one of early date, and belonging to some of the
first preachers of the gospel amongst us."

"And have you other things here with such beautiful stories belonging to
them?" inquired Gusty, eager for more of that romantic lore which youth
loves so passionately.

"Not that I know of," answered Edward "but if these objects here had only
tongues, if every sword, and belt, and spear-head, and golden bodkin, and
other trinket could speak, no doubt we should hear stirring stories of
gallant warriors and their ladye-loves."

"Aye, that would be something to hear!" exclaimed Gusty.

"Well," said Edward, "you may have many _such_ stories by reading the
history of your country; which if you have not read, I can lend you books
enough."

"Oh, thank you," said Gusty; "I should like it so much."

Edward approached the book-shelf and selected a volume he thought the most
likely to interest so little practised a reader; and when he turned round
he saw Gusty poising in his hand an antique Irish sword of bronze.

"Do you know what that is?" inquired Edward.

"I can't tell you the name of it," answered Gusty, "but I suppose it was
_something to stick a fellow_."

Edward smiled at the characteristic reply, and told him it was an antique
Irish sword.

"A sword?" he exclaimed. "Isn't it short for a sword?"

"All the swords of that day were short."

"When was that?" inquired the boy.

"Somewhere about two thousand years ago."

"Two thousand years," exclaimed Gusty, in surprise. "How is it possible
you can tell this is two thousand years old?"

"Because it is made of the same metal and of the same shape as the swords
found at Cannae, where the Carthaginians fought the Romans."

"I know the Roman history," said Gusty, eager to display his little bit of
knowledge; "I know the Roman history. Romulus and Remus were educated by a
wolf." Edward could not resist a smile, which he soon suppressed, and
continued:--"Such works as you now hold in your hand are found _in
quantities_ in Ireland, and seldom anywhere else in Europe, except in
Italy, particularly at Cannae, where some thousands of Carthaginians fell;
and when we find the sword of the same make and metal in places so remote,
it establishes a strong connecting link between the people of Carthage and
of Ireland, and at once shows their date."

"How curious that is!" exclaimed Gusty; "and how odd I never heard it
before! Are there many such curious things you know?"

"Many," said Edward.

"I wonder how people can find out such odd things," said the boy.

"My dear boy," said Edward, "after getting a certain amount of knowledge,
other knowledge comes very fast; it gathers like a snowball--or perhaps it
would be better to illustrate the fact by a milldam. You know, when the
water is low in the milldam, the miller cannot drive his wheel; but the
moment the water comes up to a certain level it has force to work the
mill. And so it is with knowledge; when once you get it up to a certain
level, you can 'work your mill,' with this great advantage over the
milldam, that the stream of knowledge, once reaching the working level,
never runs dry."

"Oh, I wish I knew as much as you do," exclaimed Gusty.

"And so you can if you wish it," said Edward.

Gusty sighed heavily, and admitted he had been very idle. Edward told him
he had plenty of time before him to repair the damage.

A conversation then ensued, perfectly frank on the part of the boy, and
kind on Edward's side to all his deficiencies, which he found to be
lamentable, as far as learning went. He had some small smattering of
Latin; but Gustavus vowed steady attention to his tutor and his studies
for the future. Edward, knowing what a miserable scholar the tutor
himself was, offered to put Gustavus through his Latin and Greek
himself. Gustavus accepted the offer with gratitude, and rode over every
day to Mount Eskar for his lesson; and, under the intelligent explanations
of Edward, the difficulties which had hitherto discouraged him
disappeared, and it was surprising what progress he made. At the same time
he devoured Irish history, and became rapidly tinctured with that
enthusiastic love of all that belonged to his country which he found in
his teacher; and Edward soon hailed, in the ardent neophyte, a noble and
intelligent spirit redeemed from ignorance and rendered capable of higher
enjoyments than those to be derived merely from field sports. Edward,
however, did not confine his instructions to book-learning only; there is
much to be learned by living with the educated, whose current conversation
alone is instructive; and Edward had Gustavus with him as constantly as he
could; and after some time, when the frequency of Gusty's visits to Mount
Eskar ceased to excite any wonder at home, he sometimes spent several days
together with Edward, to whom he became continually more and more
attached. Edward showed great judgment in making his training attractive
to his pupil: he did not attend merely to his head; he thought of other
things as well; joined him in the sports and exercises he knew, and taught
him those in which he was uninstructed. Fencing, for instance, was one of
these; Edward was a tolerable master of his foil, and in a few months
Gustavus, under his tuition, could parry a thrust and make no bad attempt
at a hit himself. His improvement in every way was so remarkable, that it
was noticed by all, and its cause did not long remain secret; and when it
_was_ known, Edward O'Connor's character stood higher than ever, and
the whole country said it was a lucky day for Gusty O'Grady that he found
such a friend. As the limits of our story would not permit the intercourse
between Edward and Gustavus to be treated in detail, this general sketch
of it has been given; and in stating its consequences so far, a peep into
the future has been granted by the author, with a benevolence seldom
belonging to his ill-natured and crafty tribe, who endeavour to hoodwink
their docile followers as much as possible, and keep them in a state of
ignorance as to coming events. But now, having been so indulgent, we must
beg to lay hold of the skirts of our readers and pull them back again down
the ladder into the private still, where Bridget pulled back Andy very
much after the same fashion, and the results of which we must treat of in
our next chapter.




CHAPTER XLI


When Bridget dragged Andy back and insisted on his going to bed--

No--I will not be too good natured and tell my story in that way; besides,
it would be a very difficult matter to tell it; and why should an author,
merely to oblige people, get himself involved in a labyrinth of
difficulties, and rack his unfortunate brain to pick and choose words
properly to tell his story, yet at the same time to lead his readers
through the mazes of this very ticklish adventure, without a single thorn
scratching their delicate feelings, or as much as making the smallest rent
in the white muslin robe of propriety? So, not to run unnecessary risks,
the story must go on another way.

When Shan More and the rest of the "big blackguards" began to wake, the
morning after the abduction, and gave a turn or two under their heather
coverlid, and rubbed their eyes as the sun peeped through the "curtains of
the east"--for these were the only bed-curtains Shan More and his
companions ever had--they stretched themselves and yawned, and felt very
thirsty, for they had all been blind drunk the night before, be it
remembered; and Shan More, to use his own expressive and poetic imagery,
swore that his tongue was "as rough as a rat's back," while his companions
went no further than saying theirs were as "dry as a lime-burner's wig."
We should not be so particular in those minute details but for that desire
of truth which has guided us all through this veracious history and as in
this scene, in particular, we feel ourselves sure to be held seriously
responsible for every word, we are determined to be accurate to a nicety,
and set down every syllable with stenographic strictness.

"Where's the girl?" cried Shan, not yet sober.

"She's asleep with your sisther," was the answer.

"Down-stairs?" inquired Shan.

"Yes," said the other, who now knew that Big Jack was more drunk than he
at first thought him, by his using the words _stairs_; for Jack when he
was drunk was very grand, and called _down the ladder_ "down-_stairs_."

"Get me a drink o' wather," said Jack, "for I'm thundherin' thirsty, and
can't deludher that girl with soft words till I wet my mouth."

His attendant vagabond obeyed the order, and a large pitcher full of water
was handed to the master, who heaved it upwards to his head and drank as
audibly and nearly as much as a horse. Then holding his hands to receive
the remaining contents of the pitcher, which his followers poured into his
monstrous palms, he soused his face, which he afterwards wiped in a wisp
of grass--the only towel of Jack's which was not then at the wash.

Having thus made his toilet, Big Jack went downstairs, and as soon as his
great bull-head had disappeared beneath the trap, one of the men above
said, "We'll have a _shilloe_ soon, boys."

And sure enough they did before long hear an extraordinary row. Jack first
roared for Bridget, and no answer was returned; the call was repeated with
as little effect, and at last a most tremendous roar was heard above, but
not from a female voice. Jack was heard below, swearing like a trooper,
and, in a minute or two, back he rushed "_up-stairs_" and began
cursing his myrmidons most awfully, and foaming at the mouth with rage.

"What's the matther?" cried the men.

"Matther!" roared Jack; "oh, you 'tarnal villains! You're a purty set to
carry off a girl for a man--a purty job you've made of it!"

"Arrah, didn't we bring her to you?"

"_Her_, indeed--bring _her_--much good what you brought is to
me!"

"Tare an' ouns! what's the matther at all? We dunna what you mane!"
shouted the men, returning rage for rage.

"Come down, and you'll see what's the matther," said Jack, descending the
ladder; and the men hastened after him.

He led the way to the further end of the cabin, where a small glimmering
of light was permitted to enter from the top, and lifting a tattered piece
of canvas, which served as a screen to the bed, he exclaimed, with a
curse, "Look there, you blackguards!"

The men gave a shout of surprise, for--what do you think they saw?--An
empty bed!




CHAPTER XLII


It may be remembered that, on Father Phil's recommendation, Andy was to be
removed out of the country to place him beyond the reach of Larry Hogan's
machinations, and that the proposed journey to London afforded a good
opportunity of taking him out of the way. Andy had been desired by Squire
Egan to repair to Merryvale; but as some days had elapsed and Andy had not
made his appearance, the alarms of the Squire that Andy might be tampered
with began to revive, and Dick Dawson was therefore requested to call at
the Widow Rooney's cabin as he was returning from the town, where some
business with Murphy, about the petition against Scatterbrain's return,
demanded his presence.

Dick, as it happened, had no need to call at the widow's, for on his way
to the town who should he see approaching but the renowned Andy himself.
On coming up to him, Dick pulled up his horse, and Andy pulled off his
hat.

"God save your honour," said Andy.

"Why didn't you come to Merryvale, as you were bid?" said Dick.

"I couldn't, sir, becase--"

"Hold your tongue, you thief; you know you never can do what you're bid--
you are always wrong one way or other."

"You're hard on me, Misther Dick."

"Did you ever do anything right?--I ask yourself?"

"Indeed, sir, this time it was a rale bit o' business I had to do."

"And well you did it, no doubt. Did you marry any one lately?" said Dick,
with a waggish grin and a wink.

"Faix, then, maybe I did," said Andy, with a knowing nod.

"And I hope _Matty_ is well?" said Dick.

"Ah, Misther Dick, you're always goin' on with your jokin', so you are.
So, you heerd o' that job, did you? Faix, a purty lady she is--oh, it's
not her at all I am married to, but another woman."

"Another woman!" exclaimed Dick, in surprise.

"Yis, sir, another woman--a kind craythur."

"Another woman!" reiterated Dick, laughing; "married to two women in two
days! Why you're worse than a Turk!"

"Ah, Misther Dick!"

"You Tarquin!"

"Sure, sir, what harm's in it?"'

"You Heliogabalus!!"

"Sure, it's no fault o' mine, sir."

"Bigamy, by this and that, flat bigamy! You'll only be hanged, as sure as
your name's Andy."

"Sure, let me tell you how it was, sir, and you'll see I am quit of all
harm, good or bad. 'T was a pack o' blackguards, you see, come to take off
Oonah, sir."

"Oh, a case of abduction!"

"Yis, sir; so the women dhressed me up as a girl, and the blackguards,
instead of the seduction of Oonah, only seduced me."

"Capital!" cried Dick; "well done, Andy! And who seduced you?"

"Shan _More_, 'faith--no less."

"Ho, ho! a dangerous customer to play tricks on, Andy."

"Sure enough, 'faith, and that's partly the rayson of what happened; but,
by good luck, Big Jack was blind dhrunk when I got there, and I shammed
screechin' so well that his sisther took pity on me, and said she'd keep
me safe from harm in her own bed that night."

Dick gave a "view hallo" when he heard this, and shouted with laughter,
delighted at the thought of Shan More, instead of carrying off a girl for
himself, introducing a gallant to his own sister.

"Oh, now I see how you are married," said Dick; "that was the biter bit
indeed."

"Oh, the divil a bit I'd ha' bit her only for the cross luck with me, for
I wanted to schame off out o' the place, and escape; but she wouldn't let
me, and cotch me and brought me back."

"I should think she would, indeed," said Dick, laughing. "What next?"

"Why I drank a power o' punch, sir, and was off my guard, you see, and
couldn't keep the saycret so well afther that, and by dad she found it
out."

"Just what I would expect of her," said Dick.

"Well, do you know, sir, though the thrick was agen her own brother, she
laughed at it a power, and said I was a great divil, but that she couldn't
blame me. So then I'd sthruv to coax her to let me make my escape, but she
told me to wait a bit till the men above was faster asleep; but while I
was waitin' for them to go to sleep, faix, I went to asleep myself, I was
so tired; and when Bridget, the crathur, 'woke me in the morning, she was
cryin' like a spout afther a thunder-storm, and said her characther would
be ruined when the story got abroad over the counthry, and sure she darn't
face the world if I wouldn't make her an honest woman."

"The brazen baggage!" said Dick; "and what did you say?"

"Why what could any man say, sir, afther that? Sure her karacther would be
gone if--"

"Gone," said Dick, "'faith it might have gone further before it fared
worse."

"Arrah! what do you mane, Misther Dick?"

"Pooh, pooh! Andy--you don't mean to say you married that one?"

"Faix, I did," said Andy.

"Well, Andy," said Dick, grinning, "by the powers, you _have_ done it
this time! Good morning to you!" and Dick put spurs to his horse.




CHAPTER XLIII


Andy, "knocked all of a heap," stood in the middle of the road, looking
after Dick as he cantered down the slope. It was seldom poor Andy was
angry--but he felt a strong sense of indignation choking him as Dick's
parting words still rung in his ears. "What does he mane?" said Andy,
talking aloud; "what does he mane?" he repeated, anxious to doubt and
therefore question the obvious construction which Dick's words bore.
"Misther Dick is fond of a joke, and maybe this is one of his making; but
if it is, 't is not a fair one, 'pon my sowl: a poor man has his feelin's
as well as a rich man. How would you like your own wife to be spoke of
that way, Misther Dick, as proud as you ride your horse there--humph?"

Andy, in great indignation, pursued his way towards his mother's cabin to
ask her blessing upon his marriage. On his presenting himself there, both
the old woman and Oonah were in great delight at witnessing his safe
return; Oonah particularly, for she, feeling that it was for her sake Andy
placed himself in danger, had been in a state of great anxiety for the
result of the adventure, and, on seeing him, absolutely threw herself into
his arms, and embraced him tenderly, impressing many a hearty kiss upon
his lips, between whiles that she vowed she would never forget his
generosity and courage, and ending with saying there was _nothing_
she would not do for him.

Now Andy was flesh and blood like other people, and as the showers
of kisses from Oonah's ripe lips fell fast upon him he was not insensible
to the embrace of so very pretty a girl--a girl, moreover, he had
always had a "sneaking kindness" for, which Oonah's distance of manner
alone had hitherto made him keep to himself; but now, when he saw
her eyes beam gratitude, and her cheek flush, after her strong
demonstration of regard, and heard her last words, so _very_ like a
hint to a shy man, it must be owned a sudden pang shot through poor Andy's
heart, and he sickened at the thought of being married, which placed the
tempting prize before him hopelessly beyond his reach.

He looked so blank, and seemed so unable to return Oonah's fond greeting,
that she felt the pique which every pretty woman experiences who fancies
her favours disregarded, and thought Andy the stupidest lout she ever came
across. Turning up her hair, which had fallen down in the excess of her
friendship, she walked out of the cottage, and, biting her disdainful lip,
fairly cried for spite.

In the meantime, Andy popped down on his knees before the widow, and said,
"Give me your blessing, mother!"

"For what, you omadhawn?" said his mother, fiercely; for her woman's
nature took part with Oonah's feelings, which she quite comprehended, and
she was vexed with what she thought Andy's disgusting insensibility. "For
what should I give you my blessing?"

"Bekase I'm marri'd, ma'am."

"What!" exclaimed the mother. "It's not marri'd again you are? You're
jokin' sure."

"Faix, it's no joke," said Andy, sadly, "I'm marri'd sure enough; so give
us your blessin', anyhow," cried he, still kneeling.

"And who did you _dar'_ for to marry, sir, if I make so bowld to ax,
without _my_ lave or license?"

"There was no time for axin', mother--'t was done in a hurry, and
I can't help it, so give us your blessing at once."

"Tell me who is she, before I give you my blessin'?"

"_Shan More's_ sister, ma'am."

"What!" exclaimed the widow, staggering back some paces--"Shan More's
sisther, did you say--Bridget _rhua_ [Footnote: Red-haired Bridget.]
is it?"

"Yis, ma'am."

"Oh, wirrasthru!--plillelew!--millia murther!" shouted the mother, tearing
her cap off her head,--"Oh blessed Vargin, holy St. Dominick, Pether an'
Paul the 'possel, what'll I do?--Oh, patther an' ave--you dirty
_bosthoon_--blessed angels and holy marthyrs!--kneelin' there in the
middle o' the flure as if nothing happened--look down on me this day, a
poor vartuous _dissolute_ woman!--Oh, you disgrace to me and all
belonging to you,--and is it the impidence to ask my blessin' you have,
when it's a whippin' at the cart's tail you ought to get, you shameless
scapegrace?"

She then went wringing her hands, and throwing them upwards in appeals to
Heaven, while Andy still kept kneeling in the middle of the cabin, lost in
wonder.

The widow ran to the door and called Oonah in.

"Who do you think that blackguard is marri'd to?" said the widow.

"Married!" exclaimed Oonah, growing pale.

"Ay, marri'd, and who to, do you think?--Why to Bridget _rhua_."

Oonah screamed and clasped her hands.

Andy got up at last, and asked what they were making such a rout about; he
wasn't the first man who married without asking his mother's leave; and
wanted to know what they had to "say agen it."

"Oh, you barefaced scandal o' the world!" cried the widow, "to ax sitch a
question--to marry a thrampin' sthreel like that--a great red-headed
jack--"

"She can't help her hair," said Andy.

"I wish I could cut it off, and her head along with it, the sthrap! Oh,
blessed Vargin! to have my daughter-in-law--"

"What?" said Andy, getting rather alarmed.

"That all the country knows is--"

"What?" cried Andy.

"Not a fair nor a market-town doesn't know her as well as--Oh, wirra!
wirra!"

"Why you don't mane to say anything agen her charackther, do you?" said
Andy.

"Charakther, indeed!" said his mother, with a sneer.

"By this an' that," said Andy, "if she was the child unborn she couldn't
make a greater hullabaloo about her charakther than she did the mornin'
afther."

"Afther what?" said his mother.

"Afther I was tuk away up to the hill beyant, and found her there, and--
but I b'lieve I didn't tell you how it happened."

"No," said Oonah, coming forward, deadly pale, and listening anxiously,
with a look of deep pity in her soft eyes.

Andy then related his adventure as the reader already knows it; and when
it was ended, Oonah burst into tears and in passionate exclamations blamed
herself for all that had happened, saying it was in the endeavour to save
her that Andy had lost himself.

"Oh, Oonah! Oonah!" said Andy, with more meaning in his voice than the
girl had ever heard before, "it isn't the loss of myself I mind, but I've
lost _you_ too. Oh, if you had ever given me a tendher word or look
before this day, 't would never have happened, and that desaiver in the
hills never could have _deludhered me_. And tell me, _lanna
machree_, is my suspicions right in what I hear--tell me the worst at
oncet--is she _non compos_?"

"Oh, I never heerd her called by that name before," sobbed Oonah, "but she
has a great many others just as bad."

"Ow! ow! ow!" exclaimed Andy. "Now I know what Misther Dick laughed at;
well, death before dishonour--I'll go 'list for a sojer, and never live
with her!"




CHAPTER XLIV


It has been necessary in an earlier chapter to notice the strange freaks
madness will sometimes play. It was then the object to show how strong
affections of the mind will recall an erring judgment to its true balance;
but, the action of the counterpoise growing weaker by time, the disease
returns, and reason again kicks the beam. Such was the old dowager's case:
the death of her son recalled her to herself; but a few days produced
relapse, and she was as foolish as ever. Nevertheless, as Polonius remarks
of Hamlet,

"There is method in his madness;"

so in the dowager's case there was method--not of a sane intention, as the
old courtier implies of the Danish Prince, but of _in_sane birth--begot
of a chivalrous feeling on an enfeebled mind.

To make this clearly understood it is necessary to call attention to one
other peculiarity of madness,--that, while it makes those under its
influence liable to say and enact all sorts of nonsense on some subjects,
it never impairs their powers of observation on those which chance to come
within the reach of the un-diseased portion of the mind; and moreover,
they are quite as capable of arriving at just conclusions upon what they
_so_ see and hear, as the most reasonable person, and, perhaps, in
proportion as the reasoning power is limited within a smaller compass, so
the capability of observation becomes stronger by being concentrated.

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