Humour

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 45, 3 February 1894, Page 3

Humour

PADDY O’TOOLE’S MULE. “Now,” writes a correspondent, “ tliat the wool sale season on you might find room for the following yarn from a Home magazine. It is droll, and should be welcome to people who liave to wade through catalogues and such-like.” The sketch is as follows : Paddy told me with a serious countenance that he could not rememhei to have ever told a lie, and yet he stated to my face that what appeared to be a very large sheepskin was in reality the hide of a little mule which had served him for many years. ‘ Ye don’t b’lieve me, sir ?’ ‘No, Paddy, my man; that wool never grew on a mule’s back.’ ‘ Now, sir,’ said he, looking at me very severely, 4 ye’re an intelligible man, an’ ye oughtn’t to he so positive ■without hearin’ the whole sarcumstances of the case.’

4 Well, then, Pat, let’s hear them.’ ‘ A good many years ago,’ said he, 4 1 had a nice little butcher’s shop a few miles outside of Limerick. I had to go to town a few times a week, and for that purpose had one of the finest little asses in Ireland. But an ass at the best, six’, isn’t over respectable, and I was very anxious to come across a mule or a chape pony, when one day, as luck would have it, up comes a tinker with the loveliest little mule ye ever set yer eyes on. ’Twas love at first sight, sir, and I determined I would have him at any price. But, as it happened, the tinker didn’t ask too much, and, besides, took the ass as part of the payment. The tinker tould me that the mule’s name was Jack, and there -wasn’t in the whole of Ireland, sir, a purtier little baste, but lie had one failin’, sir, an’ sure it’s many an’ many a Christian in Ireland has the same misfortune — he was altogether too fond o’ the dhrink ! Well, the day after I bought him I started off to Limerick a prmid man, sir, for Jack cantered like' a greyhound, but when we reached Lynch’s inn, without sayin’ a word, he turns round and goes np to the door. 4 What are ye doin’ wid the tinker’s mule ?’ said Lynch. 4 He’s not a tinker’s mule,’ said I, for I’ve just bought him —isn’t he a beauty ?’ 4 44 Oh, he looks -well enough,” answered Lynch, 41 but he’ll chunk ye out o’ house an’ home.” 4 Sure enough, like yourself, sir, I laughed, thinkin’ Lynch was humbuggin’ me, but, faith, it was true enough, not a publichouse would he pass without gettin’ a glass o’ whisky, and many a time when the coppers was scarce had I to go two or thine miles out of my way in ordher to avoid the dhrink. But the worst of it was, sir, that a lot of the lads, knowin’ his weakness, thrated him so often at Lynch’s, that he began to run np there at nights of his own account, an’, by some manes or other, got Lynch to trust him until he ran up a big bill. But wid all Ids faults I was awfully fond of him, and wouldn’t part wid him for the world.

“ Wei], sir, to cut a long story short, one day I went to Limerick, an’ Hinny Lynch, who was runnin’ short of whisky, asked me to bring him a small cask from town. As bad luck would have it. the merchant where I got the whisky made me take a dhrop too much that day, so that I didn’t exactly know what I was doin’, but by some manes or other the cask fell out of the cart and broke in staves on the road. Well, the loss of the whisky sobered w/y but played up with the mule. He sucked up every drop of it he could get out of the gutter, an’ at length fell down at the side of the road. After about a couple of hours I got tired of waitin’, and thried to get him on his feet, but, sir, there wasn’t a gasp o’ breath in him, an’ sure enough 1 thought he was dead, an’ I was beside a litte vexed at him for matin’ a baste of himself in that way. Anyway, the best thing to do, I thought, was to skin him, which I did, sir, in a twinklin’, an’ borrowin’

an ass- wint back for another cask of whisky to Limerick. When I got home that night I was very tired, an’ to tell the truth, sir, a little dhrnnk, so I wasn’t long before I fell asleep. At about midnight, however, my wife wakened me, shoutin’ : 4 4 4 Jack is bawlin’ at the door.” 4 44 Let me shlape, woman,” say T s I. 11 Jack is dead, and his skin is at the tanner’s in Limerick.” 4 4 4 Dead or alive,’ says she, I know his bawl, an’ tell you he’s at the door.’ 44 Wid that, sure enough, there was another roar outside which I knew widout doubt doubt was Jack’s, and the truth began to dawn upon me that I bad skinned the poor baste, when, instead of bein’ dead, he was only dead dhrnnk. 4 44 Oh, mnrclher, murdher,” says I, 14 What’ll he do at all widout his skin—wasn’t it a hurry I was soilin’ it.” 44 Well,.sir, I went to the door, and there, sure enough, was the poor haste trimblin’ wid the cowld. I couldn’t help cryin’, as I didn’t know what to do to comfort him; hut, begor, as luck would have it, I had three or four fresh sheep skk.s, which I sowed together, and cut out to fit him Elegantly. By mornin’ he was decked out in his new suit, the qnarest lookin’ mule ye iver saw ; and, in two or three weeks he was as well as ever, with a coat a great dale ■warmer than the old wan. Everyone up an’ down used to talk about him ; and, if I wanted to make a peepshow I could have made a fortin’. The qnarest thing was that, as ye see, sir, the finest wool grew on him, but a great deal quicker than on a sheep, for I had to shear him three times a year; an’, begor, the price of his wool nearly paid for his dhrink. But one day a circus passed through the village, and the owner, bearin’ of Jack, came to look at him. He offered to buy him ; hut I tow Id him that for his weight in goold I would’t sell him, and that he could go about his business. Well, he went, sir ; but begor, if he did he left one of his boys behind him, who made me dhrnnk that evenin’ and got me to sell poor Jack for £IOO. He paid down the money and took him away the same night. When I wakened in the mornin’, and knew what I had done, I cried like a child, but made up my mind that I wouldn’t be baten by a showman ; so I followed them to the next town, and demanded my mule, offerin’ to pay' back the hundred pounds, but they onlylaughed at me. 4 Very well, me boys,’ says I, 4 maybe I’ll make ye laugh at the wrong side o’ yer mouths.’ 4 They had already put out hill 8 sayin’ that they would show that day the most wonderful animal in the world —half mule and half sheep. Jack (if there wasn’t a publichouse on the other side) would answer to his name an’ follow me like a dog, an’ I datarmined that I would lade the showman that day a purty dance. There was a performance at two, an’ I paid my shillin’ an’ went in. I stopped near the door, not in the laste humour to laugh at any o’ their thricks. but impatient to see poor Jack. Well, sir, at length they led him out, lookin’ like a martyr, for he didn’t like the company he was in, an’ besides, didn’t have a single dhrop for more than twinty-four hours. The clown began to tell a lot of lies about him, sayin’ he was captured in Tartary, an’ brought over specially for that show. Jack was every minute lookin’ more uncomfortable, an’ I was growin’ warmer an’ warmer. Well, begor, sir, at last, just as the whole lot were around him, as I couldn’t bear any longer, I shouted out to him : 4 Jack, come an’ have a dhrink !’ 4 Arrah ! sir. you should see him then. His two ears stood up, he gave a jump in the air, he kicked the clovVn in the stomach, he knocked down the head showman, he roared like a wild animal, an’ jumpin’ over a little ridin’-girl, came up to where I was. I immediately rushed out, an’ poor Jack was followin’ me, when the

door was shut in his face. I couldn’t see what was goin’ inside then, but all the people began to shout an’ bawl an’ thump at the door. At length they opened it, an’ as soon as they did Jack rushed out, knockin’ down a lot of people, and came up to where I was standin’. I was just goin’ to jump on his back, when out comes the head showman, ragin’ mad, wid a gun in his hand. He planted it at poor Jack’s head an’ fired. ‘Ye can take him now, an’ be hanged to ye,’ says he, just as the poor fellow fell dead at m3 r feet.

‘Well, sir, ye see I skinned him a second time, but he was now dead in earnest, an’ I shall never have another mule like him.’ ‘ What was the name of the owner of that circus, Paddy ?’ Well, now, sir, do you know not an English name, except Jones, could I iver remember, an, I am not always so sure about Jones,’ and Paddy shook his head, thinking of the many inconveniences he had to suffer as the victim of a bad memory.