Chapter IV: Part 4

“'Now, Jack,' says his master, 'go and eat your supper, and I hope you'll be able to perform your task--if not, off goes your head.'

“'Very well, your honor,' says Jack, again scratching it in the hoith of perplexity, 'I must only do what I can.'

“The next morning Jack was up with the sun, if not before him, and hard at his task; but before breakfast time he lost all heart, and little wonder he should, poor fellow, bekase for every one shovelful he'd throw out, there would come three more in: so that instead of making his task less, according as he got on, it became greater. He was now in the greatest dilemmy, and didn't know how to manage, so he was driven at last to such an amplush, that he had no other shift for employment, only to sing _Paddeen O'Rafferty_ out of mere vexation, and dance the hornpipe trebling step to it, cracking his fingers, half mad, through the stable. Just in the middle of this tantrum, who comes to the door to call him to his breakfast, but the beautiful crathur he saw the evening before peeping at him through the panel. At this minute, Jack had so hated himself by the dancing, that his handsome face was in a fine glow, entirely.

“'I think,' said, she to Jack, with one of her own sweet smiles, 'that this is an odd way of performing your task.'

“'Och, thin, 'tis you that may say that,' replies Jack; 'but it's myself that's willing to have my head hung up any day, just for one sight of you, you darling.'

“'Where did you come from?' asked the lady, with another smile that bate the first all to nothing.

“'Where did I come from, is it?' answered Jack; 'why, death-alive! did you never hear of ould Ireland, my jewel!--hem--I mane, plase your ladyship's honor.'

“'No,' she answered; 'where is that country?'

“'Och, by the honor of an Irishman,' says Jack, 'that takes the shine!--not heard of Erin--the Imerald Isle--the Jim of the ocean, where all the men are brave and honorable, and all the women--hem--I mane the ladies--chaste and beautiful?'

“'No,' said she; 'not a word: but if I stay longer I may get you blame--come in to your breakfast, and I'm sorry to find that you have done so little at your task. Your roaster's a man that always acts up to what he threatens: and, if you have not this stable cleared out before dusk, your head will be taken of your shoulders this night.'

“'Why, thin,' says Jack, 'my beautiful darl--plase your honor's ladyship--if he Dangs it up, will you do me the favor, _acushla machree_, to turn my head toardst that same panel where I saw a sartin fair face that I won't mintion: and if you do, let me alone for watching a sartin purty face I'm acquainted with.'

“'What means _cushla machree?_ inquired the lady, as she turned to go away.

“'It manes that you're the pulse of my heart, avourneen, plase your ladyship's Reverence,' says Jack.

“'Well,' said the lovely crathur, 'any time you speak to me in future, I would rather you would omit terms of honor, and just call me after the manner of your own country; instead, for instance, of calling me your ladyship, I would be better pleased if you called me cushla--something--' 'Cushla machree, ma vourneen--the pulse of my heart--my darling,' said Jack, consthering it (the thief) for her, for fraid she wouldn't know it well enough.

“'Yes,' she replied, 'cushla machree; well, as I can pronounce it, acushla machree, will you come in to your breakfast?' said the darling, giving Jack a smile that would be enough, any day, to do up the heart of an Irishman. Jack, accordingly, went after her, thinking of nothing except herself; but on going in he could see no sign of her, so he-sat down to his breakfast, though a single ounce, barring a couple of pounds of beef, the poor fellow couldn't ate, at that bout, for' thinking of her.

“Well, he went again to his work, and thought he'd have better luck; but it was still the ould game--three shovelfuls would come in for ev'ry one he'd throw out; and now he began, in earnest, to feel something about his heart that he didn't like, bekase he couldn't, for the life of him, help thinking of the three hundred and sixty-four heads, and the empty hook. At last he gave up the work entirely, and took it into his head to make himself scarce from about the old fellow's castle, altogether; and without more to do, he set off, never saying as much as 'good-bye' to his master: but he hadn't got as far as the lower end of the yard, when his ould friend, the dog, steps out of a kennel, and meets him full but in the teeth.

“'So, Jack,' says he, 'you're going to give us leg bail, I see; but walk back with yourself, you spalpeen, this minute, and join your work, or if you don't,' says he, 'it'll be worse for your health. I'm not so much your enemy now as I was, bekase you have a friend in coort that you know nothing about; so just do whatever you are bid, and keep never minding.'

“Jack went back with a heavy heart, as you may be sure, knowing that, whenever the black cur began to blarney him, there was no good to come in his way. He accordingly went into the stable, but consuming to the hand's turn he did, knowing it would be only useless; for, instead of clearing it out, he'd be only filling it.

“It was near dinner-time, and Jack was very sad and sorrowful, as how could he be otherwise, poor fellow, with such a bloody-minded ould chap to dale with? when up comes the darling of the world again, to call him to his dinner.

“'Well, Jack,' says she, with her white arms so beautiful, and her dark clusters tossed about by the motion of her walk--how are you coming on at your task?' 'How am I coming on, is it? Och, thin,' says Jack, giving a good-humored smile through the frown that was on his face, 'plase your lady--a cushla machree--it's all over with me; for I've still the same story to tell, and off goes my head, as sure as it's on my shoulders, this blessed night.'

“'That would be a pity, Jack,' says she, 'for there are worse heads on worse shoulders; but will you give me the shovel?' 'Will I give you the shovel, is it?--Och thin, wouldn't I be a right big baste to do the likes of that, any how?' says Jack; 'what! avourneen dheelish! to stand up with myself, and let this hard shovel into them beautiful, soft, white hands of your own! Faix, my jewel, if you knew but all, my mother's son's not the man to do such a disgraceful turn, as to let a lady like you take the shovel out of his hand, and he standing with his mouth under his nose, looking at you--not myself auourneen! we have no such ungenteel manners as that in our country.' 'Take my advice, Jack,' says she, pleased in her heart at what Jack said, for all she didn't purtend it--'give me the shovel, and depend upon it, I'll do more in a short time to clear the stable than you would for years.' 'Why, thin, avour-neen, it goes to my heart to refuse you; but, for all that, may I never see yesterday, if a taste of it will go into your purty, white fingers,' says the thief, praising her to her face all the time--'my head may go off, any day, and welcome, but death before dishonor. Say no more, darling; but tell your father I'll be to my dinner immediately.'

“Notwithstanding all this, by jingo, the lady would not be put off; like a raal woman, she'd have her own way; so on telling Jack that she didn't intend to work with the shovel, at all, at all, but only to take it for a minute in her hand, at long last he gave it to her; she then struck it three times on the threshel of the door, and, giving it back into his hand, tould him to try what he could do. Well, sure enough, now there was a change; for, instead of three shovelfuls coming in, as before, when he threw one out, there went nine more along with it. Jack, in coorse, couldn't do less than thank the lovely crathur for her assistance; but when he raised his head to speak to her, she was gone. I needn't say, howsomever, that he went in to his dinner with a light heart and a murdhering appetite; and when the ould fellow axed him how he was coming on, Jack tould him he was doing gloriously. 'Remember the empty hook, Jack,' said he. 'Never fear, your honor,' answered Jack, 'if I don't finish my task, you may bob my head off anytime.'

“Jack now went out, and was a short time getting through his job, for before the sun set it was finished, and he came into the kitchen, ate his supper, and, sitting down before the fire, sung 'Love among the Roses,' and the 'Black Joke,' to vex the ould fellow.

“This was one task over, and his head was safe for that bout; but that night, before he went to bed, his master called him upstairs, brought him into the bloody room, and gave him his orders for the next day. 'Jack,' says he, 'I have a wild filly that has never been caught, and you must go to my demesne to-morrow, and catch her, or if you don't--look there,' says the big blackguard, 'on that hook it hangs, before to-morrow, if you havn't her at sunset in the stable that you claned yesterday.' 'Very well, your honor,' said Jack, carelessly, 'I'll do every thing in my power, and if I fail, I can't help it.'

“The next morning, Jack was out with a bridle in his hand, going to catch the filly. As soon as he got into the domain, sure enough, there she was in the middle of a green field, grazing quite at her ase. When Jack saw this he went over towards her, houlding out his hat as if it was full of oats; but he kept the hand that had the bridle in it behind his back, for fraid she'd see it and make off. Well, my dear, on he went till he was almost within grip of her, cock-sure that he had nothing more to do than slip the bridle over her neck and secure her; but he made a bit of a mistake in his reckoning, for though she smelt and snoaked about him, just as if she didn't care a feed of oats whether he caught her or not, yet when he boulted over to hould her fast, she was off like a shot with her tail cocked, to the far end of the demesne, and Jack had to set off hot foot after here. All, however, was to no purpose; he couldn't come next or near her for the rest of the day, and there she kept coorsing him about from one field to another, till he hadn't a blast of breath in his body.

“In this state was Jack when the beautiful crathur came out to call him home to his breakfast, walking with the pretty small feet and light steps of her own upon the green fields, so bright and beautiful, scarcely bending the flowers and the grass as she went along, the darling.

“'Jack,' says she, 'I fear you have as difficult a task to-day as you had yesterday.'

“'Why, and it's you that may say that with your own purty mouth,' says Jack, says he; for out of breath and all as he was, he couldn't help giving her a bit of blarney, the rogue.

“'Well, Jack,' says she, 'take my advice, and don't tire yourself any longer by attempting to catch her; truth's, best--I tell you, you could never do it; come home to your breakfast, and when you return again, 'just amuse yourself as well as you can until dinner-time.'

“'Och, och!' says Jack, striving to look, the sly thief, as if she had promised to help him--'I only wish I was a king, and, by the powers, I know who would be my queen, any how; for it's your own sweet lady--savourneen dheelish--I say, amn't I bound to you for a year and a day longer, for promising to give me a lift, as well as for what you done yesterday?'

“'Take care, Jack,' says she, smiling, however, at his ingenuity in striving to trap her into a promise, 'I don't think I made any promise of assistance.'

“'You didn't,' says Jack, wiping his face with the skirt of his coat, ''cause why?--you see pocket-handkerchiefs weren't invented in them times: 'why, thin, may I never live to see yesterday, if there's not as much rale beauty in that smile that's diverting itself about them sweet-breathing lips of yours, and in them two eyes of light that's breaking both their hearts laughing at me, this minute, as would encourage any poor fellow to expect a good turn from you--that is, whin you could do it, without hurting or harming yourself; for it's he would be the right rascal that could take it, if it would injure a silken hair of your head.'

“'Well,' said the lady, with a mighty roguish smile, 'I shall call you home to your dinner, at all events.'

“When Jack went back from his breakfast, he didn't slave himself after the filly toy more, but walked about to view the demesne, and the avenues, and the green walks, and nice temples, and fish-ponds, and rookeries, and everything, in short, that was worth seeing. Towards dinner-time, howiver, he began to have an eye to the way the sweet crathur was to come, and sure enough she that wasn't one minute late.

“'Well, Jack,' says she, 'I'll keep you no longer in doubt:' for the tender-hearted crathur saw that Jack, although he didn't wish to let an to her, was fretting every now and then about the odd hook and the bloody room--'So, Jack,' says she, 'although I didn't promise, yet I'll perform;' and with that she pulled a small ivory whistle out of her pocket, and gave three blasts on it that brought the wild filly up to her very hand, as quick as the wind. She then took the bridle, and threw it over the baste's neck, giving her up, at the same time, to Jack; 'You needn't fear now, Jack,' says she, 'you'll find her as quiet as a lamb, and as tame as you wish; as proof of it, just walk before her, and you will see she will follow you to any part of the field.'

“Jack, you maybe sure, paid her as many and as sweet compliments as he could, and never heed one from his country for being able to say something toothsome to the ladies. At any rate, if he laid it on thick the day before, he gave two or three additional coats this time, and the innocent soul went away smiling, as usual.

“When Jack brought the filly home, the dark fellow, his master, if dark before, was a perfect thunder-cloud this night: bedad, he was nothing less than near bursting with vexation, bekaise the thieving ould sinner intended to have Jack's head upon the hook, but he fell short in his reckoning now as well as before. Jack sung 'Love among the Roses,' and the 'Black Joke,' to help him into better timper.

“'Jack,' says he, striving to make himself speak pleasant to him, 'you've got two difficult tasks over you; but you know the third time's the charm--take care of the next.'

“'No matter about that,' says Jack, speaking up to him stiff and stout, bekase, as the dog tould him, he knew he had a friend in coort--'let's hear what it is, any how.'

“'To-morrow, then,' says the other, 'you're to rob a crane's nest, on the top of a beech-tree which grows in the middle of a little island in the lake that you saw yesterday in my demesne; you're to have neither boat, nor oar, nor any kind of conveyance, but just as you stand; and if you fail to bring me the eggs, or if you break one of them,--look here!' says he, again pointing to the odd hook, for all this discoorse took place in the bloody room.

“'Good again,' says Jack; 'if I fail I know my doom.'

“'No, you don't, you spalpeen,' says the other, getting vexed with him entirely, 'for I'll roast you till you're half dead, and ate my dinner off you after; and, what is more than that, you blackguard, you must sing the 'Black Joke' all the time for my amusement.'

“'Div'l fly away with you,' thought Jack, 'but you're fond of music, you vagabone.'

“The next morning Jack was going round and round the lake, trying about the edge of it, if he could find any place shallow enough to wade in; but he might as well go to wade the say, and what was worst of all, if he attempted to swim, it would be like a tailor's goose, straight to the bottom; so he kept himself safe on dry land, still expecting a visit from the 'lovely crathur,' but, bedad, his good luck failed him for wanst, for instead of seeing her coming over to him, so mild and sweet, who does he obsarve steering at a dog's trot, but his ould friend the smoking cur. 'Confusion to that cur,' says Jack to himself, 'I know now there's some bad fortune before me, or he wouldn't be coming acrass me.'

“'Come home to your breakfast, Jack,' says the dog, walking up to him, 'it's breakfast time.'

“'Ay,' says Jack, scratching his head, 'it's no matter whether I do or not, for I bleeve my head's hardly worth a flat-dutch cabbage at the present speaking.'

“'Why, man, it was never worth so much,' says the baste, pulling out his pipe and putting it in his mouth, when it lit at once.

“'Take care of yourself,' says Jack, quite desperate,--for he thought he was near the end of his tether,--'take care of yourself, you dirty cur, or maybe I might take a gintleman's toe from your tail.'

“'You had better keep a straight tongue in your head,' says four-legs, 'while it's on your shoulders, or I'll break every bone in your skin--Jack, you're a fool,' says he, checking himself, and speaking kindly to him--'you're a fool; didn't I tell you the other day to do what you were bid, and keep never minding?'

“'Well,' thought Jack to himself, 'there's no use in making him any more my enemy than he is--particularly as I'm in such a hobble.'

“'You lie,' says the dog, as if Jack had spoken out to him, wherein he only thought the words to himself, 'you lie,' says he, 'I'm not, nor never was, your enemy, if you knew but all.'

“'I beg your honor's pardon,' answers Jack, 'for being so smart with your honor, but, bedad, if you were in my case,--if you expected your master to roast you alive,--eat his dinner of your body,--make you sing the 'Black Joke,' by way of music for him; and, to crown all, know that your head was to be stuck upon a hook after--maybe you would be a little short, in your temper, as well as your neighbors.'

“'Take heart, Jack,' says the other, laying his fore claw as knowingly as ever along his nose, and winking slyly at Jack, didn't I tell you that you had a friend in coort--the day's not past yet, so cheer up, who knows but there is luck before you still?'

“'Why, thin,' says Jack, getting a little cheerful, and wishing to crack a joke with him, 'but your honor's very fond of the pipe!' 'Oh! don't you know, Jack,' says he, 'that that's the fashion at present among my tribe; sure all my brother puppies smoke now, and a man might as well be out of the world as out of the fashion, you know.'

“When they drew near home, they got quite thick entirely; 'Now,' says Jack, in a good-humored way, 'if you can give me a lift in robbing this crane's nest, do; at any rate, I'm sure your honor won't be my enemy. I know you have too much good nature in your face to be one that wouldn't help a lame dog over a style--that is,' says he, taking himself up for fear of offending the other,--'I'm sure you'd be always inclined to help the weak side.'

“'Thank you for the compliment,' says, the dog; 'but didn't I tell you that you have a friend in coort?'

“When Jack went back to the lake, he-could only sit and look sorrowfully at the tree, or walls; about the edge of it, without being able to do anything else. He spent the whole day this way, till dinner-time, when what would you have of it, but he sees the darlin' coming out to him, as fair and as blooming as an angel. His heart, you may be sure, got up to his mouth, for he knew she would be apt to take him out of his difficulties. When she came up--

“'Now, Jack,' says she, 'there is not a minute to be lost, for I'm watch'd; and if it's discovered that I gave you any assistance, we will both be destroyed.'

“'Oh, murder sheery!' (* Murder everlasting) says Jack, 'fly back, avourneen machree--for rather than anything should happen you, I'd lose fifty-lives.'

“'No,' says she, 'I think I'll be able to-get you over this, as well as the rest; so have a good heart, and be faithful' 'That's it,' replied Jack, 'that's it, acushla--my own _correcthur_ to a shaving; I've a heart worth its weight in bank notes, and a more faithful boy isn't alive this day nor I'm to yez all, ye darlings of the world.'

“She then pulled a small white wand out of her pocket, struck the lake, and there was the prettiest green ridge across it to the foot of the tree that ever eye beheld. 'Now,' says she, turning her back to Jack, and stooping down to do something that he couldn't see, 'Take these,' giving him her ten toes, 'put them against the tree, and you will have steps to carry you to the top, but be sure, for your life and mine, not to forget any of them. If you do, my life will be taken tomorrow morning, for your master puts on my slippers with his own hands.'

“Jack was now going to swear that he would give up the whole thing and surrender his head at once; but when life looked at her feet, and saw no appearance of blood, he went over without more to do, and robbed the nest, taking down the eggs one by one, that he mightn't brake them. There was no end to his joy, as he secured the last egg; he instantly took down the toes, one after another, save and except the little one of the left foot, which in his joy and hurry he forgot entirely. He then returned by the green ridge to the shore, and accordingly as he went along, it melted away into water behind him.

“'Jack,' says the charmer, 'I hope you forgot none of my toes.'

“'Is it me?' says Jack, quite sure that he had them all--'arrah, catch any one from my country making a blunder of that kind.'

“'Well,' says she, 'let us see; so, taking the toes, she placed them on again, just as if they had never been off. But, lo and behold! on coming to the last of the left foot, it wasn't forthcoming. 'Oh! Jack, Jack,' says she, 'you have destroyed me; to-morrow morning your master will notice the want of this toe, and that instant I'll be put to death.'

“'Lave that to me,' says Jack; 'by the powers, you won't lose a drop of your darling blood for it. Have you got a pen-knife about you? and I'll soon show you how you won't.'

“'What do you want with the knife?' she inquired.

“'What do I want with it?--Why to give you the best toe on both my feet, for the one I lost on you; do you think I'd suffer you to want a toe, and I having ten thumping ones at your sarvice?--I'm not the man, you beauty you, for such a shabby trick as that comes to.'

“'But you forget,' says the lady, who was a little cooler than Jack, 'that none of yours would fit me.'

“'And must you die to-morrow, _acushla?_' asked Jack, in desperation.

“'As sure as the sun rises,' answered the lady 'for Your master would know at once that it was by my toes the nest was robbed.'

“'By the powers,' observed Jack, 'he's one of the greatest ould vag--I mane, isn't he a terrible man, out and out, for a father?'

“'Father!' says the darling,--'he's not my father, Jack, he only wishes to marry me and if I'm not able to outdo him before three days more, it's decreed that he must.

“When Jack heard this, surely the Irishman must come out; there he stood, and began to wipe his eyes with the skirt of his coat, making out as if he was crying, the thief of the world. 'What's the matter with you?' she asked.

“'All!' says Jack, 'you darling, I couldn't find it in my heart to desave you; for I have no way at home to keep a lady like you, in proper style, at all at all; I would only bring I you into poverty, and since you wish to know what ails me, I'm vexed that I'm not rich for your sake; and next, that that thieving ould villain's to have you; and, by the powers, I'm crying for both these misfortunes together.'

“The lady could not help being touched and plaised with Jack's tinderness and ginerosity; so, says she, 'Don't be cast down, Jack, come or go what will, I won't marry him--I'd die first. Do you go home as usual; but take care and don't sleep at all this night. Saddle the wild filly--meet me under the whitethorn bush at the end of the lawn, and we'll both leave him for ever. If you're willin' to marry me, don't let poverty distress you, for I have more money than we'll know what to do with.'

“Jack's voice now began to tremble in airnest, with downright love and tinderness, as good right it had; so he promised to do everything just as she bid him, and then went home with a dacint appetite enough to his supper.

“You may be sure the ould fellow looked darker and grimmer than ever at Jack: but what could he do? Jack had done his duty? so he sat before the fire, and sung 'Love among the Roses,' and the 'Black Joke,' with a stouter and a lighter heart than ever, while the black chap, could have seen him skivered.

“When midnight came, Jack, who kept a hawk's eye to the night, was at the hawthorn with the wild filly, saddled and all--more betoken, she wasn't a bit wild then, but as tame as a dog. Off they set, like Erin-go-bragh, Jack and the lady, and never pulled bridle till it was one o'clock next day, when they stopped at an inn, and had some refreshment. They then took to the road again, full speed; however, they hadn't gone far, when they heard a great noise behind them, and the tramp of horses galloping like mad. 'Jack,' says the darling, on hearing the hubbub, 'look behind you, and see what's this.'

“'Och! by the elevens,' says Jack, 'we're done at last; it's the dark fellow, and half the country after us.' 'Put your hand,' says she, 'in the filly's right ear, and tell me what you find in it.' 'Nothing at all,' says Jack, 'but a weeshy bit of a dry stick.' 'Throw it over your left shoulder says she, 'and see what will happen.' Jack did so at once, and there was a great grove of thick trees growing so close to one another, that a dandy could scarcely get his arm betwixt them. 'Now,' said she, 'we are safe for another day.' 'Well,' said Jack, as he pushed on the filly, 'you're the jewel of the world, sure enough; and maybe it's you that won't live happy when we get to the Jim of the Ocean.'

“As soon as dark-face saw what happened, he was obliged to scour the country for hatchets and hand-saws, and all kinds of sharp instruments, to hew himself and his men a passage through the grove. As the saying goes, many hands make light work, and sure enough, it wasn't long till they had cleared a way for themselves, thick as it was, and set off with double speed after Jack and the lady.

“The next day, about' one o'clock, he and she were after taking another small refreshment of roast-beef and porther, and pushing on, as before, when they heard the same tramping behind them, only it was ten times louder.

“'Here they are again,' says Jack; 'and I'm afeard they'll come up with us at last.'

“'If they do,' says she, 'they'll put us to death on the spot; but we must try somehow to stop them another day, if we can; search the filly's right ear again, and let me know what you find in it.'

“Jack pulled out a little three-cornered pebble, telling her that it was all he got; 'well,' says she, 'throw it over your left shoulder like the stick.'

“No sooner said than done; and there was a great chain of high, sharp rocks in the way of divel-face and all his clan. 'Now,' says she, 'we have gained another day.' 'Tundher-and-turf!' says Jack, 'what's this for, at all, at all?--but wait till I get you in the Immerald Isle, for this, and if you don't enjoy happy days any how, why I'm not sitting before you on this horse, by the same token that it's not a horse at all, but a filly though; if you don't get the hoith of good aiting and drinking--lashings of the best wine and whisky that the land can afford, my name's not Jack. We'll build a castle, and you'll have upstairs and downstairs--a coach and six to ride in--lots of sarvints to attend on you, and full and plinty of everything; not to mintion--hem!--not to mintion that you'll have a husband that the fairest lady in the land might be proud of,' says he, stretching himself up in the saddle, and giving the filly a jag of the spurs, to show off a bit; although the coaxing rogue knew that the money which was to do all this was her own. At any rate, they spent the remainder of this day pleasantly enough, still moving on, though, as fast as they could. Jack, every now and then, would throw an eye behind, as if to watch their pursuers, wherein, if the truth was known, it was to get a peep at the beautiful glowing face and warm lips that were breathing all kinds of _fragrancies_ about him. I'll warrant he didn't envy the king upon his throne, when he felt the honeysuckle of her breath, like the smell of Father Ned's orchard there, of a May morning.

“When Fardorougha (* the dark man) found the great chain of rocks before him, you may set it down that he was likely to blow up with vexation; but, for all that, the first thing he blew up was the rocks--and that he might lose little or no time in doing it, he collected all the gunpowder and crowbars, spades and pickaxes, that could be found for miles about him, and set to it, working as if it was with inch of candle. For half a day there was nothing but boring and splitting, and driving of iron wedges, and blowing up pieces of rocks as big as little houses, until, by hard, labor, they made a passage for themselves sufficient to carry them over. They then set off again, full speed; and great advantage they had over the poor filly that Jack and the lady rode on, for their horses were well rested, and hadn't to carry double, like Jack's. The next day they spied Jack and his beautiful companion, just about a quarter of a mile before them.

“'Now,' says dark-brow, 'I'll make any man's fortune forever that will bring me them two, either living or dead, but, if possible, alive: so, spur on, for whoever secures them, man, woman, or child, is a made man, but, above all, make no noise.'

“It was now divil take the hindmost among the bloody pack--every spur was red with blood, and every horse smoking. Jack and the lady were jogging on acrass a green field, not suspecting that the rest were so near them, and talking over the pleasant days they would spind together in Ireland, when they hears the hue-and-cry once more at their very heels.

“'Quick as lightning, Jack,' says she, 'or we're lost--the right ear and the left shoulder, like thought--they're not three lengths of the filly from us!'

“But Jack knew his business; for just as a long, grim-looking villain, with a great rusty rapier in his hand, was within a single leap of them, and quite sure of either killing or making prisoners of them both, Jack flings a little drop of green water that he got in the filly's ear over his left shoulder, and in an instant there was a deep, dark gulf, filled with black, pitchy-looking water between them. The lady now desired Jack to pull up the filly a bit, that they might see what would become of the dark fellow; but just as they turned round, the ould nagur set 'spurs to his horse, and, in a fit of desperation, plunged himself, horse and all, into the gulf, and was never seen or heard of more. The rest that were with him went home, and began to quarrel about his wealth, and kept murdering and killing one another, until a single vagabond of them wasn't left alive to enjoy it.

“When Jack saw what happened, and that the blood-thirsty ould villain got what he desarved so richly, he was as happy as a prince, and ten times happier than most of them as the world goes, and she was every bit as delighted. 'We have nothing more to fear,' said the darling that put them all down so cleverly, seeing that she was but a woman; but, bedad, it's she was the right sort of a woman--'all our dangers are now over, at least, all yours are; regarding myself,' says she, 'there's a trial before me yet, and that trial, Jack, depends upon your faithfulness and constancy.'

“'On me, is it?--Och, then, murder! isn't it a poor case entirely, that I have no way of showing you that you may depind your life upon me, only by telling you so?'

“'I do depend upon you,' says she--'and now, as you love me, do not, when the trial comes, forget her that saved you out of so many troubles, and made you such a great and wealthy man.'

“The foregoing part of this Jack could well understand, but the last part of it, making collusion to the wealth, was a little dark, as he thought, bekase, he hadn't fingered any of it at the time: still, he knew she was truth to the back-bone, and wouldn't desave him. They hadn't travelled much farther, When Jack snaps his fingers with a 'Whoo! by the powers, there it is, my darling--there it is, at long last!'

“'There is what, Jack?' said she, surprised, as well she might, at his mirth and happiness--'There is what?' says she. 'Cheer up!' says Jack; 'there it is, my darling,--the Shannon!--as soon as we get to the other side of it, we'll be in ould Ireland once more.'

“There was no end to Jack's good humor, when he crossed the Shannon; and she was not a bit displeased to see him so happy. They had now no enemies to fear, were in a civilized country, and among green fields and well-bred people. In this way they travelled at their ase, till they came within a few miles of the town of Knockimdowny, near which Jack's mother lived.

“'Now, Jack,' says she, 'I told you that I would make you rich. You know the rock beside your mother's cabin; in the east end of that rock there is a loose stone, covered over with gray moss, just two feet below the cleft out of which the hanging rowan-tree grows--pull that stone out, and you will find more goold than would make a duke. Neither speak to any person, nor let any living thing touch your lips till you come back to me, or you'll forget that you ever saw me, and I'll lie left poor and friendless in a strange, country.'

“'Why, thin, _manim asthee hu_,' (* My soul's within you.) says Jack, 'but the best way to guard against that, is to touch your own sweet lips at the present time,' says he, giving her a smack that you'd hear, of a calm evening, acrass a couple of fields. Jack set off to touch the money, with such speed that when he fell he scarcely waited to rise again; he was soon at the rock, any how, and without either doubt or disparagement, there was a cleft of real goolden guineas, as fresh as daisies. The first thing he did, after he had filled his pockets with them, was to look if his mother's cabin was to the fore; and there surely it was, as snug as ever, with the same dacent column of smoke rowling from the chimbley.

“'Well,' thought he, 'I'll just stale over to the door-cheek, and peep in to get one sight of my poor mother; then I'll throw her in a handful of these guineas, and take to my scrapers.'

“Accordingly, he stole up at a half bend to the door, and was just going to take a peep in, when out comes the little dog Trig, and begins to leap and fawn upon him, as if it would eat him. The mother, too, came running out to see what was the matter, when the dog made another spring up about Jack's neck, and gave his lips the slightest lick in the world with its tongue, the crathur was so glad to see him: the next minute, Jack forgot the lady, as clane as if he had never seen her; but if he forgot her, catch him at forgetting the money--not he, avick!--that stuck to him like pitch.

“When the mother saw who it was, she flew to him, and, clasping her arms about his neck, hugged him till she wasn't worth three halfpence. After Jack sot a while, he made a trial to let her know what had happened him, but he disremembered it all, except having the money in the rock, so he up and tould her that, and a glad woman she was to hear of his good fortune. Still he kept the place where the goold was to himself, having been often forbid by her ever to trust a woman with a sacret when he could avoid it.

“Now everybody knows what changes the money makes, and Jack was no exception to this ould saying. In a few years he built himself a fine castle, with three hundred and sixty-four windies in it, and he would have added another, to make one for every day in the year, only that would be equal to the number in the King's palace, and the Lord of the Black Rod would be sent to take his head off, it being high thrason for a subject to have as many windies in his house as the king. (* Such is the popular opinion.) However, Jack, at any rate, had enough of them; and he that couldn't be happy with three hundred and sixty-four, wouldn't desarve to have three hundred and sixty-five. Along with all this, he bought coaches and carriages, and didn't get proud like many another beggarly upstart, but took especial good care of his mother, whom he dressed in silks and satins, and gave her nice nourishing food, that was fit for an ould woman in her condition. He also got great tachers, men of great larning, from Dublin, acquainted with all subjects; and as his own abilities were bright, he soon became a very great scholar, entirely, and was able, in the long run, to outdo all his tutherers.

“In this way he lived for some years--was now a man of great larning himself--could spake the seven _langidges_, and it would delight your ears to hear how high-flown and Englified he could talk. All the world wondered where he got his wealth; but as he was kind and charitable to every one that stood in need of assistance, the people said that wherever he got it it couldn't be in better hands. At last he began to look about him for a wife, and the only one in that part of the country that would be at all fit for him, was the Honorable Miss Bandbox, the daughter of a nobleman in the neighborhood. She indeed flogged all the world for beauty; but it was said that she was proud and fond of wealth, though, God he knows, she had enough of that any how. Jack, however, saw none of this; for she was cunning enough to smile, and simper, and look pleasant, whenever he'd come to her father's. Well, begad, from one thing, and one word, to another, Jack thought it was best to make up to her at wanst, and try if she'd accept of him for a husband; accordingly he put the word to her like a man, and she, making as if she was blushing, put her fan before her face and made no answer. Jack, however, wasn't to be daunted; for he knew two things worth knowing, when a man goes to look for a wife: the first is--that 'faint heart never won fair lady,' and the second--that 'silence gives consint;' he, therefore, spoke up to her in fine English, for it's he that knew how to speak now, and after a little more fanning and blushing, by jingo, she consinted. Jack then broke the matter to her father, who was as fond of money as the daughter, and only wanted to grab at him for the wealth.

“When the match was a making, says ould Bandbox to Jack, 'Mr. Magennis,' says he, (for nobody called him Jack now but his mother)--'these two things you must comply with, if you marry my daughter, Miss Gripsy:--you must send away your mother from about you, and pull down the cabin in which you and she used to live; Gripsy says that they would jog her memory consarning your low birth and former poverty; she's nervous and high-spirited, Mr. Magennis, and declares upon her honor that she couldn't bear the thoughts of having the delicacy of her feeling offinded by these things.'

“'Good morning to you both,' says Jack, like an honest fellow as he was, 'if she doesn't marry me except on these conditions, give her my compliments, and tell her our courtship is at an end.'

“But it wasn't long till they soon came out with another story, for before a week passed they were very glad to get him on his own conditions. Jack was now as happy as the day was long--all things appointed for the wedding, and nothing a wanting to make everything to his heart's content but the wife, and her he was to have in less than no time. For a day or two before the wedding, there never was seen such grand preparations: bullocks, and hogs, and sheep were roasted whole--kegs of whiskey, both Roscrea and Innishowen, barrels of ale and beer were there in dozens. All descriptions of niceties and wild-fowl, and fish from the _say_; and the dearest wine that could be bought with money, was got for the gentry and grand folks. Fiddlers, and pipers, and harpers, in short all kinds of music and musicianers, played in shoals. Lords and ladies, and squares of high degree were present--and, to crown the thing, there was open house to all comers.

“At length the wedding-day arrived; there was nothing but roasting and boiling; servants dressed in rich liveries ran about with joy and delight in their countenances, and white gloves and wedding favors on their hats and hands. To make a long story short, they were all seated in Jack's castle at the wedding breakfast, ready for the priest to marry them when they'd be done; for in them times people were never married until they had laid in a good foundation to carry them through the ceremony. Well, they were all seated round the table, the men dressed in the best of broadcloth, and the ladies rustling in their silks and satins--their heads, necks, and arms hung round with jewels both rich and rare; but of all that were there that day, there wasn't the likes of the bride and bridegroom. As for him, nobody could think, at all at all, that he was ever any thing else than a born gintleman; and what was more to his credit, he had his kind ould mother sitting beside the bride, to tache her that an honest person, though poorly born, is company for the king. As soon as the breakfast was served up, they all set to, and maybe the various kinds of eatables did not pay for it; and among all this cutting and thrusting, no doubt but it was remarked, that the bride herself was behindhand wid none of them--that she took her _dalin-trick_ without flinching, and made nothing less than a right fog meal of it; and small blame to her for that same, you persave.

“When the breakfast was over, up gets Father Flannagan--out with his book, and on with his stole, to marry them. The bride and bridegroom went up to the end of the room, attended by their friends, and the rest of the company stood on each side of it, for you see they were too high bred, and knew their manners too well, to stand in a crowd like spalpeens. For all that, there was many a sly look from the ladies to their bachelors, and many a titter among them, grand as they were; for, to tell the truth, the best of them likes to see fun in the way, particularly of that sort. The priest himself was in as great a glee as any of them, only he kept it under, and well he might, for sure enough this marriage was nothing less than a rare windfall to him and the parson that was to marry them after him--bekase you persave a Protestant and Catholic must be married by both, otherwise it does not hould good in law. The parson was as grave as a mustard-pot, and Father Flannagan called the bride and bridegroom his childher, which was a big bounce for him to say the likes of, more betoken that neither of them was a drop's blood to him.

“However, he pulled out the book, and was just beginning to buckle them when in comes Jack's ould acquaintance, the smoking cur, as grave as ever. The priest had just got through two or three words of Latin, when the dog gives him a pluck by the sleeve; Father Flannagan, of coorse, turned round to see who it was that _nudged_ him: 'Behave yourself,' says the dog to him, just as he peeped over his shoulder---'behave yourself,' says he; and with that he sat him down on his hunkers beside the priest, and pulling a cigar instead of a pipe out of his pocket, he put it in his mouth, and began to smoke for the bare life of him. And, by my own word, it's he that could smoke: at times he would shoot the smoke in a slender stream like a knitting-needle, with a round curl at the one end of it, ever so far out of the right side of his mouth; then he would shoot it out of the left, and sometimes make it swirl out so beautiful from the middle of his lips!--why, then, it's he that must have been the well-bred puppy all out, as far as smoking went. Father Flannagan and they all were thundherstruck.

“'In the name of St. Anthony, and of that holy nun, St. Teresa,' said his Reverence to him, 'who and what are you, at all at all?'

“'Never mind that,' says the dog, taking the cigar for a minute between his claws; 'but if you wish particularly to know, I'm a thirty-second cousin of your own by the mother's side.'

“'I command you in the name of all the saints,' says Father Flarmagan, believing him to be the devil, 'to disappear from among us, and never become visible to any one in this house again.'

“'The sorra a budge, at the present time, will I budge,' says the dog to him, 'until I see all sides rightified, and the rogues disappointed.'

“Now one would be apt to think the appearance of a _spaking_ dog might be after fright'ning the ladies; but doesn't all the world know that _spaking_ puppies are their greatest favorites? Instead of that, you see, there was half a dozen fierce-looking whiskered fellows, and three or four half-pay officers, that were nearer making off than the ladies. But, besides the cigar, the dog had his beautiful eye-glass, and through it, while he was spaking to Father Flannigan, he ogled all the ladies, one after another, and when his eye would light upon any that pleased him, he would kiss his paw to her and wag his tail with the greatest politeness.

“'John,' says Father Flannagan, to one of the servants, 'bring me salt and water, till I consecrate them* to banish the divil, for he has appeared to us all during broad daylight in the shape of a dog.'

* Salt and water consecrated by a particular form is Holy Water.

“'You had better behave yourself, I say again,' says the dog, 'or if you make me speak, by my honor as a gintleman I'll expose you: I say you won't marry the same two, neither this nor any other day, and I'll give you my raisons presently; but I repate it, Father Flannagan, if you compel me to speak, I'll make you look nine ways at once.'

“'I defy you, Satan,' says the priest; 'and if you don't take yourself away before the holy watcher's made, I'll send you off in a flame of fire.'

“'Oh! yes, I'm trimbling,' says the dog: 'plenty of spirits you laid in your day, but it was in a place that's nearer to us than the Red Sea, you did it: listen to me though, for I don't wish to expose you, as I said;' so he gets on his hind legs, puts his nose to the priest's ear, and whispers something that none of the rest could hear--all before the priest had time to know where he was. At any rate, whatever he said seemed to make his Reverence look double, though, faix, that wasn't hard to do, for he was as big as two common men. When the dog was done speaking, and had put his cigar in his mouth, the priest seemed thundherstruck, crossed himself, and was, no doubt of it, in great perplexity.

“'I say it's false,' says Father Flannagan, plucking up his courage; 'but you know you're a liar, and the father of liars.'

“'As thrue as gospel, this bout, I tell you,' says the dog.

“'Wait till I make my holy wather,' says the priest, 'and if I don't cork you in a thumb-bottle for this,* I'm not here.'

* According to the superstitious belief of the Irish, a
priest, when banishing a spirit, puts it into a thumb-
bottle, which he either buries deep in the earth, or in some
lake.

“Just at this minute, the whole company sees a gintleman galloping for the bare life of him, up to the hall-door, and he dressed like an officer. In three jiffeys he was down off his horse, and in among the company. The dog, as soon as he made his appearance, laid his claw as usual on his nose, and gave the bridegroom a wink, as much as to say, 'watch what'll happen.'