Default

Default

Default

Default

Default

This article displays in one automatically-generated column. View the full page to see article in its original form.

OULD BUTLER'S WAKE.

» , - (From Thulay'a Magmmt.) A keener, «ir! Vie, ear ) I'm a koonor. I'm an ould woman, now, »ur j an' I'm keener this flvcand-thirty year. Ay, bodad, sur I this flvc an* thirty year! An' for all that, ther'fl not a keener m Ireland can bate mo in th' voioo yit, > morebetoken, ay' I put th' laitt taiftfc o' sporrits t* mo lips afore I begin, sur, mother o' Moses 1 shuro it's that puts bono in me keen all out. Fva only jiat t' wet mo lips 3 an' ax any wan that knows mo, an' they'll toll yob. that when I begin yob. oan hear mo keen all over th' parish! Yifl, indoed, asbhore tnaohree, it's many an' many th' fine rouoin' wako I helped at j an' will agin, plaza God, ay' it's th' Lord's will t' spare us. But shuro, wo seldom do havo th' raal rattlin' wakes that wo used t' have twinty year ago. Bod ad, a powor o 1 fun wint out o' th' oounthry whin Father Mathow— God rest hia isowJ !-—ined th' people take t' drinkin' oo wld water instid ay parly mint (a) or a com* fortablo dhrop ay pottoen. Faix! thoro'e nothin'liko a egg-shell full ay potteen for *ism' th' oooklos ay yer heart ! There's many an' many's th' time, sur, that meaelf, afthor bein' up for night nfther night, at wakoß, 'ud feel that tired, that I'd bo liko a chip in porridge, nay ther good tor wan thing nor th' other. ' An'neo here, surj jiat giro mo an egg-shell full ay th' r*al native, an' I'm fit t' kon or t' singranns (6) until I foel dhry agin. But weirasthru 1 shuro it's on tho sly wo do bo bavin' th' wakee, th' raal wakes, wid some fun an' a bit ay a danoe, t' keep up wan'a sperrifcs, nowadays. An' it's all senoo Father Oahill kern into th' parish. It's he that's th' 'oufco prioat. Now thero was ould Father Luke j)'lynn — th' heavens be hie bed this blessed day J— it's ho that mod th'beautifullest oorpso for an ould man any wan ivir I soon. Well, as I was e&yin', that was ould Father Luko Flynnj ho was th' nioest priest at a wako that iiir yeh hnoirn, Ho wasn't abovo takin' his tumbler ay . pofcteen-puneh wid a squeeze ftv a lemon in it t' givo it a flavour. Troth ! ay thoro wasn't a tumbler handy, hia rivirinoo wasn't n bit proud, an' he'd sit an 1 Jake it, quifo respectful liko, out ay a noggin, or a ouppnun (o), or anythin' olso handy. I remembor wunetwe war wakin'a mothorav Tim Kooj<h'B~him that married a flrat cousin ay Mionaulecn D'Aroy's, th' boooagh (d), thero boyanh at Kitlos'handra--an' shure it was th' vory Jasfc wako poor ould Father Luko was atj and' eez ho to mo : •' Bodad, Kitty Farroll," Bfz ho, "it's you that is tho beautiful Etconor, an' no mistake about it." " Thank yor rivirinoo kindly," scz I > "I'm vary »t.hr»ng in tho' win', God bo praised. Yor rivirinco was allaways very nico an' civilspoken, an' not a bit ay a hatd priest about dues an' pinanoe, an' begorra, yell havo yer reward, for I'll keen over yoh th' grandesb kocn ivir yoh knew. An',"sez I, t' lot him 8«o t was in airnost, " I'll bogin it be oryin', 1 0.ih ! Father Luko, Warl'int I on' it's you that looks purfcy in yor grand linon grave olothes, an' yor wbito ribbins, an' yer mould oandlos Ah yor head, an' icr mould oandlos at yor foet! Fttbhfr Luko, agra ! why did yeh dio, an' lave uz wid th' hourfc sorra 1 But shore, aoushla, yor gone t' glory, tor yoh lived a vargint, an' a vargint!'" (c). It was moro nor two months afthor that I koonod poor ould Father Luke Fiynn — th' { ''high honvpnfl bo his bod ! An, thin, shure, , Fafchor o'ihill kom in his plaoe. I'll nivir ! forget th' flrat Sunda' ho sod mass thero boyant in th' ohnpol j thoro was a splendid ohapel full. Bt<rlnd, th' nabours was as thiok as por«ons (/*), for thoro was jist as many as only got. in»»s as thim that hard it (g). I dunno how it was, but from th' very firstGod forgive uz, an' ho wan ay th' olargy ! — we war rulhor roisthruatful that ho wasn't th 1 sumo nrtart ay a priest as poor ould Father

Lake was, An 1 faix, sur ! it soon turned out that we war in th 1 right about him. Ooh ! wisha, wisha I but it's ho that had tV grand newfangled notions. An' mo jowil ! what d'yo think P but ho got th' gratest frinds in th' wurruld wid ould Misthor Eugono Butler, thoro beyanfc at Bullerstown, an' ould Butler a blaok Frodcsdant. Aw ! an* it's he was th' ould naygur ! why, th' sorra help* r even he'd have in th' stables, 'athout seem' ho was mindin' his businoss ; an' sburo that, was no way for a gintleman t' go on. Well, thoro was wan night— ib wasn't very long afther I tuk tho kconin' — an' we war wakin' an ould mothor ay Pat Magrath's — hor cowl t' glory this dav ! It was wan nr th' handsomest wakes I ivor woa at, for the Magratho had th' daoint dhrop in thim,an' know how t' do th 1 thing right an' propor. Ib was a. flahoolagh (A) wakoj lashtns an lavins ay ivirythin'; fay, whito broad an' boxty (i) bread, wid plinty ay potteen an' parlymint, snuff in a saucer, an' pipes on' tobnooa, an' a sJciehogm (j) ay bilod pratccs for tbim that oared for thim. Well, mo an' Biddy Bompsy ~sho wasn't muoh ay a keener, God help her, bub sho did hor best — was keonin' ould Mrs Magrath, whin all ay a suddint poor Biddy's hoad got quaro in regard ay th' littlo dhrop o' dhrink. Mesolf, too, was gettin' tired, for I had a long spoil at th' koonin', an' I was goin' to read awhile an' have a dhraw at th' pipe, whin who d' yo think oomea in, an' gives th' ' Qo tnanee Dia ins ho' (k), but Barney Oallaghon, th' dark flddlor (I). Me dear, shuro an' it's there th' joy was, for th' boys an' girls only known they Jhad t' give Barney a good rattlin' glass ay pottoen punch , on' that he'd fiddle all night for thim t' danooto. But, yo boo, «ur, thoro was a power o' nabours from far an' noar at th' wako ; an' th' kitohen was near ohook-fnll, bo raison ay th' corpse ! bein' laid out on a ehubther in th' middle ay th' fluro, so thoro wasn't muoh room for a dance. " Arrab, boys! I'll toll yoh what yell do" sez dark Barney, as ho wbb tohunin* up th' fiddle j " ehuro no wan oan say bub Mrs Magratoh has as daoint an' respootful a wako as hor hart cud wish for ; an' ay aitoh ay yer sez a Patthor an' Aye for hez sowl, sburo , there's no raison ny life why yez mayn't put \ hor afcannin' up besido th' dooro over thoro wid th' shutteo aforo her, an' thin yez oan have yer dance." 1 "Thru© for yeh, Barney," sez I j "shure it's offon an' off en we do that whin th' koonin 1 is ovor, an' th' orathurs wants somethin' t' rise their sperrits." So, t' mako a long story short, ould Mrs Magrath's corpso was put stannin' up besido th' dooro, wid th' shutter aforo it, an' thin it was that th' fun began. Bark Barney was tho best flddlo in th' barony, an' ho jist sthruok up " The Priest in hie Boots," whenßarby Grogan lod out Peggy Skorrett, an' thoy f uttod it in grand style ! Aw 1 yeh nivir seen suoh a pair as th' war for humourin' a tohuno ( Throth t yoh'd think for all th' wurruld that they larnt danoin' from a fairy pipor on May Eve, they war-that handy wid their feot ! Wo war all lookin' at thim, an' jist at th' cover th' buoklo, whin thoro was a knookin' an' a rumpus at th' dooro t an* who d'yo think walked in but Father Oahill an' Mistor Eugene Butlor. Bogorm sur ! it was near bein' murthor for both body an' sowl, for Father Oahill laid roun' him wid th' horsewhip ; an' whin he found some was tryin' t' hide until h'd go away, ho swore h'd onrso thim bo bell, book, an' oondlo-light, ay they didn't be aff out of that. Aw i shuro that was enough t' frockon any wan, for th' blaokcsb oursoout is a priest's oureo. Well, away th' all wint. Whilo his rivirinoo wab talkin' out ay him, Misther Butler— th' blaok-lookin' ould slivcen !— was lainin' agin the' dooro, wid his shoulder right agin th 1 shufcthor that was aforo tho oorpso, whin all ay a suddint ho turned roun', an' down wint tho shutfcher wid a clap, an' th' oorpso fell riht into ould Butlor's arms ! Aw ! shuro ib was •no wonder ho sohrceohed, " Mwiollia murthor 1" for, bodad ! he thought he was kilt intirely an' no mistake. An' thin there was suoh a sottlin' as yeh nivir seen, for Father Oahill wouldn't lavo th' cabin until th' oorpso was laid out again. But in th' middle ay all th' bustlin', there stood ould Bublor wid his faoo ngar th' colour ay th 1 oorpse's wid th' fright bo got. " Arrah, yor honor ! Misthor Butlor," sez I, whin his rivirinoo bad his baok turned," jieb tako a taist at pottoen t' rouse yob, cur j ehure it's no wondher yer face turned th' colour ftv abadpratee wid th' fright, for it was an onluoky thing. — God botohuno uz an' harm this blessed night !— for yoh t' gib death into yor arras." " What d'yo mano P" ho sez, all ay a thrimblo, on' he dashin' th' eggshell ay pot* teen on th' fluro. "Bedad, sur!" I ups an' I sez t' him, for th' not a wan ay uz liked ould Bublor, " I allaways sez what I mane j an' tako mo word for it thero'll bo a wako at yor own houso aforo th' year is out." 11 What P" he roars; "an' d'yo think I'd allow any thin 1 so hay then P" " Savin' yor prosenoo, sur," soz I, quifco unoonsohus like ; " yer botthors was waked an 1 keonon too, God rest their sowls ! an' ay yeh was t' dio t' morra yersolf, sur, yor son an' heir Misthor Hugh isn't tho boy I tako him for ay he'd refuse his own father a respectable wake, wid whisky, an' good aitin , an' ivirythin' oomplato !" " All I san say is," sez ould Butler, shakin' his flat ab mo— an' be this timo his .faoo was as red as a turkoy oook's — " I'll lave it as mo dvin' requesb that thore's t' bo no foolery (foolery, mind yoh, th' ould haythen !) ay th' kind j an' at thoro is," sez ho, " I'll riso in mo coffin an' out aft Misthor HugL wid a sbillin' ay ho allows anythin' ay th' sorb ! I will, as shuro as I'm a livm' man !" " Throth, Mistor Butlor !" sez I, makin' him a porlifce ourtohey as I was goin' out th' i doore, " it's well yoh Bed that ) yez are a I tough ould family, an' ontil yez are onundhor th' day wan can nivir bo shuro ay yez doad or nob; bub widdyoolish! shuro iviry wan knowß how hard ib is t' kill weeds; tho prateos '11 find an* th' what '11 fail, bub begorra, th' nettles an' th' prissha nivir doos." Aw! bub ibs them Butlers was th y quaro lot, sur! Ay ooorso, yeb know ould Butlor was roarriod twist, surP Vis, indeed, thin, ho was, sur. Tho first ho marriod was Miss Biana Garnetb, Aw ! ib's sho that was th' , hard, olose-flstod. lady, list as fond ay th' money as ho was himself. Thoy had only wan son— that's Misthor Hugh, sur. An' nob long afther, Mrs Butlor diod ay a favor sho oaught. Tho sorra wan oared muoh ; for it was in Bublin that ib bapponod, an' thoro was no wake nor funeral nor nothin', so that

aho might jtst as well not ha' died at all, for any good any wan sot by it. Well, for seven wholo year* ould Butlor was a widda*. And thin, my jewil, ehure peoplo 'ud hardly b'liove thoir eyes whin th' saw th' new misthresa ho brought homo i' Butlerstown ! Aw ! shuro nobody oud ivor make out why eho ivor married sioh a blacklookin' old folia* as ho wai ! She was tho purticßl), dawniost; littlo orathur ivir yet seen, wid blno eyes an' goold hair, an' littlo hands an' hor th' Tory colour ay now milk. Bui th' quarcsf; part ay it all was that iviry wan sed sho was fond ov ould Butler na ay ho was th' finest an' handaomost younp man in Iroland [ An' ehuro wasn't ho fond ay hor! Och, boded, fond is no word for it ! Ho thought there wasn't hor aiqual in th' wurruld. But eburo eho died — more's tho pity ! — an' left a littlo girl jist two year ould, th' very moral ay herself, wid goold hair and blue oy*B like two stars. Vis, aur. Littlo Miss Norah grow up th' purtiost oolleen in th' counthry. Sho had th f open hand on' th' kind freo word for ivirybody, an' aho had a stop as light as a mountain goat. Shuro it was a say in' among uz that hor weeshey littlo foefc *ud hardly orush th' heather an' th' hills, an' that th| daieicu u«od t' turn round an' look afther her, eho was that purty. She was a white- headed soft littlo thing ; but wid a sporrifcav hor own, I can tell yoh, »url An' this ia how hor father kern t' see that whin she was roused aho had tho blood ay th' proud Butlers in her. Yoh sco, sur, old Butler thought that thero nivir was th' lUos ay Mi»s Norah— God blcsa her!— an' ho gey out t' Mi»ther Hugh that ho was goin' t 1 lave her half th' property. Well, sbure, tare an agora ! but it's Misthor Hugh was th' mad gintleman whin ho hard it j bat his ould father was so fond ay Miss Norah that he wouldn't havo a word aed agin it. Well, asthoro maohree! sburo ivirythin' was goin' on fair an' aiey for a whilo, antil it kom to ould Butler's cant that Captain Dick Filzgarald— th' finest an'olancat built: young man in th' oounthry, sur — was ooortin' Miss Norah. Dunno why it was, but thoro wos allaways bad blood betohune th' Butlers an 1 th' Fitzgaral<?s j an' ould Butler nworo that ay Miss Norah didn't give up Cftptftin Diok that hod disown her, and lave all th* property t' Misther Hugh. Shure poor Miss Norah near oried hor purty eyes blind, sur ) an' sho tould her father to reokleot how fond he was ay hor own mother — tho high heavens be hor bed this bloesed day I— an' not t' bo too hard an thim, bokoao th' war that fond ay wan another that they'd dio ay th' war sep'rated. Bub ould Butlor turned th' deaf oar t' her an' wouldn't listen t' her i an' bodad, ho sed so muoh t' hor that sho wint aff th 1 next week and married Captain Diok in Dublin. Aw ! there's no uso in talkin', but ould Butlor wag out up awful about it. Ho began to bo allaways ailm' about aomethin' or another; bub ho was that sot agin Miss Norah that ho wouldn't let hor namo be i mintionod. An' it's Misthor Hugh that wint !an t' his likin.' Ho got roun' th' ould father, an' ho porsuadod him that ho was th' bost son livin', and that Mica Norah was th' ondutifullest orathur an th' faoo ay God's earth. So ould Butler wae gottin* worao an' worse, an' ho was that crass an' bad timporcd that ho wouldn't lot a wan ay th' doothora near him ; an' bodad, shuro wan day th' found him anoar doad wid th' pain 'ithin his side ; so thoy only had timo to* git him t' make th' now will, leavin' all tho propurty to Misthor Hugh, and scz ho, jist as ho was at tho last gaap:— 11 Mind," aez ho to Misthor Hugh, « 'yer not t' ay thim haython wakes at my borrin'," sez ho ; " for ay yoh do, it'll go hard an me but I'll riso in my coffin and ourso yez ! " " Father dear," aez Misthor Hugh — and Nanoy Doolin, that wan thero an' was tollin* mo, floz ho wbb only purtindin' to ry all th' timo—-" yor wishes ia law to mo. I hope yor don't think I'd do anythin' yoh wouldn't wiahP" " That's a good boy," eez ould |Butler j " it's well I'vo wan obaydient child." And wid that bo gov a groan oub avhim an' died aff. Well, shuro bodad ! we all thought wo'd havo a thry for a wako-J an' a lot ay us meself among thim — wint up t' ax Misthur Hugh t' let uz wake tho ould moetbur. 1 " Via," bcz Mister Hugh, oonain' down t' th' kitohon, an' spakin' t' uz, " yoh may have a grand wako, ay yens carry th' coflln out t' th' barn. I havo t' live among yoz now, on' I'm not goin' t' havo any ay me fathor'a now fnnglod ways. So go out t' th' barn, an' have as muoh whisky an' tobacoo as yez want." Now that was doin' th' thing daoint, an' ao wo all aed t' Misthor Hugh. But begorra, who d'ye think was thoro but Miss Norah an' hor husband, an' she ory in 1 hor oyea out about her father. "Oh, Hugh, Hugh," »ho eez, " yeh oughtn't t' have any wako. Yoh know poor father wouldn't) havo likod it." "I'll do as I like," acz Misthor Hugh, quifco short ; *' I'm th' only inasthor horo now." Woll, alannah, maohroo ! ohuro four ay th' . boys wint up t' th' bedroom t' carry down th' ' coffin, an' wo all stud in th' hall ready t' koon aforo it out t' th' barn. Thoro th' war oonun 1 | down th' stairs fair an' ftiey in thoir stookin' foot, not t' dirty th' curpcts, whin all ay a auddint Darby Corrigan makes a false step, an' down th' all oomo, an' tho ooflln oomos wid a thump an* th' ataira, an'— God'e thruth it is an' nothin' olso that I'm tellin' yeh, sur, —why, up sits tho oorpeo ! Ooh, Mhoniamondhieul! Shuro an' it's thin th' ruotion was. Th' sorra wan 'ud go a- near th' coffin ; an' thero eofc ould Butler, an' scz ho in a wondher, " What th' divil nro yez all doin P" " Goin' t' wftko yoh, yor honour," sea Darby Corriftan, from anundhor th' coflln. "What!" ho roars— an' a mighty sthrong voioo ho had, considherin' ho was a eorpso th' minnit aforo — " who gave you leave to havo a wako P" " Wo didn't oorno ahout bom* invited," sez I, oomia 1 over — for rao aporrit waa up in regard ay a glass ay punoh I had in th' kitohon — "wo known hotter marmora," bcz I, makin' a ourtohey, t' show I had bohaviour; " ib was Miathor Hugh, th' young muslhor, Bed wo might havo th' wako. Aw throth, it's ho has tho raal blood ay an Irish gintleman in him, for ho sod wo might havo laahins ay whiaky an' tobaooa— ho'a no naygur— not all as wan as some pooplo I oud lay mo finger an !" "Yoh impidont woman!" scz ou'd Butlor, ahftkin' his fist at mo; "yoh boo I kept mo promiso. I aed ay yoz attimptod t' wako mo ant koon mo that I'd riso in mo ooflln." Well, shuro wo woro all that flusthered about ib that wo warn'ti right euro ay wo war on our heads or our hoola. Anyway, it waa aartia ould Butlor wasn't dead, for ho was put t' bod, an' th' doothor was sint for. An' th' next thing wo hard was, that. it was Bomothin 1 or other that bruk 'ithin ia ould Butler's insido, an' that it was only euepindhors an' alligathora (m) that was th' matther wid him at all. But it was Misther Hugh that sufforod for not doin' what he was bid, an' for broakin' his

promise Shure what did ould Butler do but ho gey th' son list enough to take him away t' Austhrala; an r what does he do thin but be makes a new will, an' laws all th' property t' ! MissNorah. Aw! but it's he was ghd t' have her wid him agin, an' he wouldn't let her go away ; so that's how sho an' her hus band an' th' ohildhre does allaways live wi.T ould Butler. An' a niot lady she is too, for all (hat she has newfangled ways wid her, an' doesn't like a dance at a wake. But, throth ! she's kin-1 t' th' poor; an' ay she isn't waked an' keened th' w»y we'd like, there's many th* wan '11 keen, in the heart for her whinivir it's th' blessed Lord's will t* tako her. Good- bye, sur j God be wid yth. Barinanht ladth, *ur, until w« meet Bgin.

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.
Permanent link to this item
Bibliographic details
Word Count
3,598

OULD BUTLER'S WAKE. Star, Issue 2691, 11 November 1876

  1. New formats

    Papers Past now contains more than just newspapers. Use these links to navigate to other kinds of materials.

  2. Hierarchy

    These links will always show you how deep you are in the collection. Click them to get a broader view of the items you're currently viewing.

  3. Search

    Enter names, places, or other keywords that you're curious about here. We'll look for them in the fulltext of millions of articles.

  4. Search

    Browsed to an interesting page? Click here to search within the item you're currently viewing, or start a new search.

  5. Search facets

    Use these buttons to limit your searches to particular dates, titles, and more.

  6. View selection

    Switch between images of the original document and text transcriptions and outlines you can cut and paste.

  7. Tools

    Print, save, zoom in and more.

  8. Explore

    If you'd rather just browse through documents, click here to find titles and issues from particular dates and geographic regions.

  9. Need more help?

    The "Help" link will show you different tips for each page on the site, so click here often as you explore the site.

Working