书城公版Letters on Literature
5420100000103

第103章 Volume 3(31)

An'as soon as the wife an'the crathurs war fairly in bed,he brought out some illigint potteen,an'himself an'Jer Garvan sot down to it;an'begorra,the more anasy Terence got,the more he dhrank,and himself and Jer Garvan finished a quart betune them.It wasn't an imparial though,an'more's the pity,for them wasn't anvinted antil short since;but divil a much matther it signifies any longer if a pint could hould two quarts,let alone what it does,sinst Father Mathew--the Lord purloin his raverence --begin'd to give the pledge,an'wid the blessin'iv timperance to deginerate Ireland.

'An'begorra,I have the medle myself;

an'it's proud I am iv that same,for abstamiousness is a fine thing,although it's mighty dhry.

'Well,whin Terence finished his pint,he thought he might as well stop;"for enough is as good as a faste,"says he;"an'I pity the vagabond,"says he,"that is not able to conthroul his licquor,"says he,"an'to keep constantly inside iv a pint measure,"said he;an'wid that he wished Jer Garvan a good-night,an'

walked out iv the room.

'But he wint out the wrong door,bein'

a thrifle hearty in himself,an'not rightly knowin'whether he was standin'on his head or his heels,or both iv them at the same time,an'in place iv gettin'into bed,where did he thrun himself but into the poulthry hamper,that the boys had settled out ready for the gandher in the mornin'.An'sure enough he sunk down soft an'complate through the hay to the bottom;an'wid the turnin'and roulin' about in the night,the divil a bit iv him but was covered up as shnug as a lumper in a pittaty furrow before mornin'.

'So wid the first light,up gets the two boys,that war to take the sperit,as they consaved,to Tipperary;an'they cotched the ould gandher,an'put him in the hamper,and clapped a good wisp iv hay an'the top iv him,and tied it down sthrong wid a bit iv a coard,and med the sign iv the crass over him,in dhread iv any harum,an'put the hamper up an the car,wontherin'all the while what in the world was makin'the ould burd so surprisin'heavy.

'Well,they wint along quite anasy towards Tipperary,wishin'every minute that some iv the neighbours bound the same way id happen to fall in with them,for they didn't half like the notions iv havin'no company but the bewitched gandher,an'small blame to them for that same.

'But although they wor shaking in their skhins in dhread iv the ould bird beginnin' to convarse them every minute,they did not let an'to one another,bud kep singin' an'whistlin'like mad,to keep the dread out iv their hearts.

'Well,afther they war on the road betther nor half an hour,they kem to the bad bit close by Father Crotty's,an'there was one divil of a rut three feet deep at the laste;an' the car got sich a wondherful chuck goin' through it,that it wakened Terence widin in the basket.

'"Bad luck to ye,"says he,"my bones is bruck wid yer thricks;what the divil are ye doin'wid me?"'"Did ye hear anything quare,Thady?"says the boy that was next to the car,turnin' as white as the top iv a musharoon; "did ye hear anything quare soundin'out iv the hamper?"says he.

'"No,nor you,'says Thady,turnin'as pale as himself,"it's the ould gandher that's gruntin'wid the shakin'he's gettin',"says he.

'"Where the divil have ye put me into,"says Terence inside,"bad luck to your sowls,"says he,"let me out,or I'll be smothered this minute,"says he.

'"There's no use in purtending,"says the boy,"the gandher's spakin',glory be to God,"says he.

'"Let me out,you murdherers,"says Terence.

'"In the name iv the blessed Vargin,"says Thady,"an'iv all the holy saints,hould yer tongue,you unnatheral gandher,"says he.

'"Who's that,that dar to call me nick-names?"says Terence inside,roaring wid the fair passion,"let me out,you blasphamious infiddles,"says he,"or by this crass I'll stretch ye,"says he.

'"In the name iv all the blessed saints in heaven,"says Thady,"who the divil are ye?"'"Who the divil would I be,but Terence Mooney,"says he."It's myself that's in it,you unmerciful bliggards,"says he,"let me out,or by the holy,I'll get out in spite iv yes,"says he,"an'by jaburs,I'll wallop yes in arnest,"says he.

'"It's ould Terence,sure enough,"says Thady,"isn't it cute the fairy docthor found him out,"says he.

'"I'm an the pint iv snuffication,"says Terence,"let me out,I tell you,an'wait till I get at ye,"says he,"for begorra,the divil a bone in your body but I'll powdher,'says he.

'An'wid that,he biginned kickin'and flingin'inside in the hamper,and dhrivin his legs agin the sides iv it,that it was a wonder he did not knock it to pieces.

'Well,as soon as the boys seen that,they skelped the ould horse into a gallop as hard as he could peg towards the priest's house,through the ruts,an'over the stones;an' you'd see the hamper fairly flyin'three feet up in the air with the joultin';glory be to God.

'So it was small wondher,by the time they got to his Raverince's door,the breath was fairly knocked out of poor Terence,so that he was lyin'speechless in the bottom iv the hamper.

'Well,whin his Raverince kem down,they up an'they tould him all that happened,an'how they put the gandher into the hamper,an'how he beginned to spake,an'how he confissed that he was ould Terence Mooney;an'they axed his honour to advise them how to get rid iv the spirit for good an'all.

'So says his Raverince,says he:

'"I'll take my booke,"says he,"an'I'll read some rale sthrong holy bits out iv it,"says he,"an'do you get a rope and put it round the hamper,"says he,"an'let it swing over the runnin'wather at the bridge,"says he,"an'it's no matther if Idon't make the spirit come out iv it,"says he.

'Well,wid that,the priest got his horse,and tuck his booke in undher his arum,an' the boys follied his Raverince,ladin'the horse down to the bridge,an'divil a word out iv Terence all the way,for he seen it was no use spakin',an'he was afeard if he med any noise they might thrait him to another gallop an finish him intirely.