The Storyteller.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXVIII, Issue 44, 1 November 1900, Page 23

The Storyteller.

T HE GENERA L.

When or where he was born we have not been able to discover. It is sufficient to know he existed. Hia first settled place of abode was at Moran's of Knockdara, and there it was I made his acquaintance. Our meeting came about in this wise — A.t the back of Moran a haggard and overnangmg the duck pomi fiouushed a wild cherry tree, the fruit of which when ripe was much sought after by the boyß of the neighborhood. The widow Moran and her son Phil, having respectively reached the ages of 84 and 55, troubled very little regarding the disposal of the cherries, but the latter troubled enough and to spare over broken hedges and trampled crops, and so it was that the youthful raiders who sought the luxuries of Moran's cherry tree were in turn and quite as eagerly sought for by the widow's Phil when they risked Knockdara on such occasions. One summer's evening 1 when coming home from school I formed the daring project of an unsupported attack upon the cheny tree, and having crawled through the hedge by the roadside and crossed the Knock field and the Raheen, reached my goal without check or hindrance I was bood amid the branches of the cherry tree, and having for the space of one glorious half-hour revelled in my surroundings I essayed my descent, feeling supremely happy and well pleased with myself, Phil Moran, and the world at large. My kindly feelings were, however, destined to be short lived. for at the very moment I reached terra Jirma I chanced to look towards the haggard, and to my consternation I saw Phil's hat and the back of hia red head appearing above the hedge which lined the duck pond on the haggard side. In an instant I was upon my hands and knees carefully crawling by the brink of the pool, my gaze fixed on the hedge which screened me from Phil and ready to rise and run for it should I be discoyered. At this juncture the General introduced himself. His method of doing so was not quite in accordance with the usages of polite society. I was dimly conscious of having been struck by a steam engine, or being caught in an earthquake, and the next moment I was engaged in an investigation of the rich layer of mud which covered the bottom of Moran's duck pond. A hurried examination sufficed, and thinking it better to have my feet down, I managed to effect a change of posture which brought my head and shoulders above the surface of the water. It was from this standpoint I first viewed the General. Having rid my eyes of a few ounces of rich black mud, I took a long hard look at the cause of my misfortune. Right over me on the bank ho stood, his long grey beanl descending below his breast, and his mischievous eyes glinting with satisfaction because of his brilliantly executed manoeuvre. Phil, having heard the splash as I retired before the General's charge, came tv my assistance, and having delivered me from the duck-pond and the General, held me at arm'd length and laughed till I thought he would shake to pieces. 'That's to lam you, me bould hayro,' said he when he got his breath, 'to come here thryin' to circumvint the people. Away wid yez home now as fast as you can lay leg to ground, or it'll be the worse for you,' and being released it goes without sayiny th it I lingered not upon the scene of my humiliation. Such was my first meeting with the General. From thenceforth I respected him. It was not, however, the respect begotten of love ; but let that pass. ' Mick the Sodger' owned him first. Mick was a poor, halfwitted fellow who rambled about the country from one rarmh'>u-<e to another, telling of his adventures on many a fierce battlefield, and subsisting on the charity of the kindly-hearted people among whom he sojourned. In his younger days Mick had fought under Meayher in the American Civil War, but having had his skull fractured in o%e of these hot actions where our brave countrymen proved themselvts the worthy sonH of a soldier race, poor Mick left hospital an altered man, and came back to his native county with an impaired intellect and a weakened constitution. Somewhere in his ramblings Mick had met with a farmer who in fun had offered to give him a young goat, and M'ok having accepted the offer succeeded in rearmg — the General. The pair in time came to be well known through the count r y side, and there was something pithetic in the siuip'icity of the battle-acarred veteran marching o'er the roads and through the boreens in the dust of summer, and amid the snows uf winter discoursing of hollow squares, broken columns, roaring guru, and charging squadrons to his faithful and silently appreciative companion, the General. Whatever possessed Mick to bestow a masculine appella l u>n upon a feminine subject nobody could ever understand, hut certain it is that Mick always referred to his pet as he and him, and furthermore, insisted on others following his example. Eight or nine days previous to the cherry tree incident Mick and the General had rambled up the lane of Knockdara at the close of a glorious summer's evening. As they passed between the rose-laden hedges Mick halted and rested upon his stick more than onee — his poor head was light and his heart was heavy ; there were dark shadows passing before his eyes which were not of the cloud", his feet were sore, his limbs were weary, and when at last he reached the friendly barn where ho was wont to rest he sank exhausted on his bed of fresh straw and was soon in a heavy sleep. Outside in the paddock the General regaled himself on the sweet grass of Knockdara, and having, doubtless, given all the news of the neighborhood to hia companions (two pet lambs and

a donkey), lay down with them in a sheltered corner and Blept the sleep of the just. The General was astir with the first light of the morning, but the sun had risen a {rood height ere the barn door was opened. The creaking of the hinges put the Ceneral upon the alert immediately, but he wa< disappointed to observe that the noise was made by Phil Morun, who passed m with an empty bucket in his hand. Presently Phil emerges from the barn, the bucket in his hand still empty, and rushes back to the farmhouse, leaving the barndoor ajar. The General avails himself of the opportunity and enters. He will bleat a reveiiie to his sleeping master. Ah! General, you are late ! The old soldier hears not the call. You will never 'march at his side again, the weary feet are at rest in a camp to which you may not follow. The battle was brief. Death conquered. Mick the Sodger has answered the roll call from above.

The veteran was buried, and the General remained at Knockdara as part and parcel of the outdoor establishment. For a few days he moped about in a most disconsolate fashion, but the melancholy boon wore off, and, becoming more reconciled to his new mode of life, he began to assert himself. He commenced with me, and carried out his plans so successfully that in six months' time he was ' monarch of all he surveyed ' on the Knockdara premises. Having succeeded in subjugating the farmyard, ambition led the General further afield, and having a good knowledge of the country, he very soon mapped out his first important campaign. A favorable day was selected for the commencement of operations, and placing himself at the head of Mrs. Moran's two pet lambs and an unsophisticated ' slip of a pig,' the General marched on Paddy Mornssey's cabbage garden, which was successfully carried and occupied in the face of many difficulties. It was a never-to-be-forgotten sight that evening when the General marched up the lane of Knockdara at the head of his troop, the light of victory in his eyes, and about two stone of Paddy Morressey's best ' white York ' in his Btomach. Next morning Paddy was up ' hot foot ' at Knockdara bewailing the manner in which hid little garden had been laid waste, and bemoaning the fate of his old collie, Bran, whom the General had left for dead among the cabbage stalks. Phil promised to tether the raider and keep him within bounds, but contented himself with confining him to the orchard, which was so well walled that there was no chance of escape. Jack Casey, the servant boy, wanted, right or wrong, to have the General tethered fir«t. and then tied to an old 56-poundß weight, hut Phil, knowing Casey had a spite against the General, would not consent to a punishment more severe than confinement to the orchard. Some months previously the General had to some extent interfered with C.ney's work, and it was because of this interference that the latter cherished a spite against him. One day, when Jack had completed the branding of some lambs in the corner of the ' bawn,' he thought he might as well decorate the two pets as his hand was in. After a short chase he eventu illy succeeded in capturing one in the corner close by the tar pot. Bef >re proceeding to use the brand Casey turned over the lamb in order to look at one of its feet, which had been hurt. It was at tint particular moment the General sauntered into the ' bawn. and taking in the portion at a glance, immediately decided it was h .s duty to tree the captive. The moment was favorable for a "urpn^. Jack was bending over the lamb, quite oblivious of tha danger which threatened from behind. The General marched up quite clo-c to the enemy, and having carefully reconnoitred the po-kion. retired a few st ps in order to gather force for the charge. Then, with a u k']> and a bound, he was on the foe, and a moment later Jack C.isey s head emerged from the tar pot more like that of a nigger's than ever it was before. That's why Casey had a spite against the G«neral. After being confined to the orchard for the best part of a month the General was again allowed 'the run of the place,' as Phil w mted to put two young calves in the orchard and not caring to run the risk of having their morals corrupted by the company of the raider, and seeing he was apparently penitent and leading an * xemplary life the ' soldier's pet ' emerged from within his prison walls and basked in freedom s sunlight again. It was about this time that Phil — after 20 years of vain petitioning — obtained his mother's consent to bring in a wife. Feiring tho maternal mind might change, Phil lost no time in availing himself of the permission given, and soon the preparations for the home-coaung of the new Mrs. Moran were in full swing. The first stages in the work of renovation interested the General very little, but when the business assumed a greater rt'.iyn.tude he seemed to wake up to the fact that some great cii.uu'e was impending, and at once commenced a series of searchrir ls.vextipr-itiono. He constituted himself foreman of the works, a- it were, and stalked about with an air of responsibility, sniffing at new doors and windows, rubbing his sides against freshly-painted gates, ami testing the quality of the newly-plastered walls with hw long horns. As a result of these investigations it was quite evident to anyone who took the trouble to notice that the General was dissatisfied and suspicious. As the work proceeded he began to manifest his disapproval in various ways, and became bo morose and ill-tempered that the two pet lambs, ' Keeper,' the dog, and the pijrs dared nit cross his path. He had long and frequent fits of abstraction, and no doubt gave way to many a bitter reflection regarding the alterations, and the probable questioning of his authority, perhaps, in the farmyard of Knockdara. Such wa-> the General's mental condition when Phil came home one evening from the minister's auction with a cartload of the finest furniture that had ever been seen in the townland.

Phil was well pleased with the majority of the articles purchased, but there was one particular item concerning which he hid misgivings, and he was more than half afraid his mother would ' My at him' for having bought it. This was a beautiful boudoir mirror, which Phil, in his excitement, had run uo to a good price before he secured it. The moment it was knocked down to him he regrettei his action for the reason stated, and because, as he afterwards said to Jack Casey, ' he had to pay the price o' a load o' hay for it when wan o' these little five shilhn' wans would a' done as well.' As a set-otf to his forebodings,, PLiil LruJ to com f ort him«*of with pleapanter reflections regarding the glad surprise of the futura Mrs. Moran when she came to find ht-reelf luiatress of ?'ioh -t splendid piece of furniture, and the delight nhe would feel in being able to dress btfore, a mirror where she could pee herself from top to toe ; and so, amid such thoughts, he drove into the yard of Knockdara. Mrs. Moran was not in the paddock, and Phil not relishing the idea of a public scolding was glad she was not present while the work of unloading was performed. While the various articles were being lifted down from the cart the General held aloof as if disgusted with the whole proceeding, but when the entire load had been fairly placed upon the ground and the work of transferring to the interior commenced, he Blowly approached the scene of operations in his most nonchalant fashion, and wearing an air of such deep abstraction as would lead the casual observer to believe that he was quite oblivious of his surroundings. As he approached, the first article — a large sideboard— waa being conveyed into the house, and Phil and his helpers were giving all their attention to its safe transmission, for Phil Moran was a careful man. Slowly the General marches along, casting many suspicions Bide glances at the remaining articles of furniture. Suddenly ho stops. He Fees now what he had not previously noticed. His air of abstraction is gone and a tremor of rage passes through him. His eyes flash fire, and his nostrils dilate with anger, for there, right in the midst of the furniture by the door of the house, and in the yard where he (the General) has held undisputed sway, stands another goat staring at him as impudently as ever usurper atared. This was the last straw. Was ever Buch effrontery witnessed 1 Here I Here in Moran's yard of Knockdara, come to beard the lion in his den — but enough, the invader must die. A snort of • angry defiance, a proud arching of the tough old General's neck, and forward rushed the hero of many a fight A terrific crash, a woman's scream, and the rattle of falling glass brings Phil to the door just in time to see the General extricate himself from the ruins of the boudoir mirror, and, rushing past Mrs. Moran, depart at a mad gallop down the lane never to be seen at Knockdara again. We shall not attempt to give details of the conversation which ensued between the widow Moran and her sou. On the whole, we think it is better left unrecorded. Where the ' warrior ' disappeared to no one ever knew for certain, but months afterwards a man from Rossnaree was heard to observe how he had seen the body of a goat borne past in the Boyne early oi c morning, and it is supposed the General, in the bitterness of ht;irt consequent upon his blunder, sought a refuge from the ridicule t.f thrse who were wont to respect him, in the bosom of the broad river. — Sdi/tlurn Cro^ (Bucdos Ayres).