The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, Volume LI, Issue 15, 10 April 1924, Page 3

The Storyteller

(By 0. J. Eiobbam.)

Kn o ckn agow ... :>■ ' ■"' '■, '.'■' '■'■-/■ '■ '"' ' ,'■ " -" ■ . -■■" "■"■'"" 0*

The Homes of Tipperary

CHAPTER Llll.—(Continued.) Captain French's servant called his attention to Bessy Morris, and he immediately came towards her and commenced talking to her. .....■?■" Mary Kearney seemed surprised on observing this; and she looked grave, if not pained, when she saw that Bessy's face was crimson and her eyes cast down, while the captain's white teeth unpleasantly, Mary thought — through his dark beard. "He is a splendid-looking man," said Grace. "But what can he be saying to Bessy Morris?" Mary asked. "Oh, flattering her, of course," replied Grace. "And really I never thought she was so very bashful. But she is strikinglynot handsome, But some way fascinating. If I were Miss Isabella Lloyd I might be jealous." Mat Donovan felt himself pulled by the sleeve, and, on looking round, saw Peg Brady by his side. "Well, Peg, what's the matter?" says Mat Donovar- . She pointed to the captain and Bessy Morris. "Oh, ay, 'tis Bessy," he remarked. "I didn't know she was here till I see her on the ditch a minute ago." Peg Brady kept her eyes fixed upon his face, but she safl nothing there but a smile of admiration and pleasure, as he watched them. "Bessy always had a great respect for you, Mat," says Peg Brady. "Well, I b'liev© she had," says Mat Donovan. "As a friend," returned Peg Brady. "As a friend," Mat Donovan repeated. "What else?" "But she's not the same since she was in Dublin," said Peg Brady. "I must tell you somethin' wan uv these days. Mind the captain, how pleasant he is." Bessy Morris turned" away to seek Judy Brophy —who was taken possession of by one of bar new admirers,and seemed quite intoxicated'by his high-flown compliments when the word "sojer" fqjl upon her ear, and on looking up she saw a group of Peg Brady's special cronies regarding her with manning looks, and whispering among themselves, keeping their eyes fixed upon" lleT* ! all the time. It was plain they knew her secret; and wherever she turned she fancied she met looks of suspicion and malice. ; This was mere fancy; but, perhaps, it was conscience made a coward of her. She wished she had remained at home, and a pang shot through her heart at the thought of how people would talk »f her. She brightened up as she passed Mat Donovan, for the same honest smile as ever met her scrutinising glance. She could almost have thrown herself into his arms for shelter from the poisoned arrows which she fancied were about being launched at her. "Come, boys," said Mat, "up wud'the ball." The ball was thrown up, and there was some good play, and running, with a friendly fall or two; but as it was only a few goals "for fun," there was little or no excitement, and the "high-gates," : and "hell-and-heaven," and "thread-the-needle" were resumed, the, players .merely running away like a flock of frightened sheep whenever the ball came bounding in among them. ,C'";' • - "Mat," said Phil Lahy, when two or three goals had been hurled, "I think you might send for the sledge." ' "Well, sure I'm agreeable at any time," replied Mat, but t'wouldn't do to send for id until the captain proposes id first; you know 'twas he sent: the challenge." - - "yT; "Well,^Donovan, '{ said Captain;French,;^re. going to have the sledge? I can't stay much longer." :> ; "Uv , coorse, sir, as you came to have a '.; throw we wouldn't like to disappoint ..- you," returned Mat. : "I'll send down to. Jack Delany's for. the sledge.-—Bar ney!!" *he shouted, as Wattletoes was passing hot-foot after a :young

girl, who was evidently;-behjt upon leading 1 him a long■ chase. "-, '■""*:.■.■ ' ~.' "■■■.'"■ - -■■■*.-.r '.■■■■^■, : -\ ; - ■ —; "You lost, Mat," i said '..Barney;f.-fas; he stopped and wheeled round,' with a grin of intense-enjoyment lighting up his: face. '■ ■—■'-■. .: -'■•■ / •..- v. _-. ~ ,'* - .."•"; "How is that, Barney?" Mat asked. ". ; ; :* ;.-.■•-"Oh, if you wor wud me at the high-gates," returned Barney,-"you'd get t your belly-full uV kisses." . -"All right, Barney," rejoined Mat. - "But I want you to run down to the forge for the sledge, as the captain'd like to have a throw before he goes." < " ; *\ .i" r ■.•• "■_■■■* "Begob, an' I will so," exclaimed Barney, becoming suddenly quite serious, on 'finding himself entrusted with so important a commission.. : &..'. . ; . : "Take up that ball," said Phil Lahy, in a tone that quite frightened Jackey Ryan; for" it reminded him of the bishop's "Come down out of that window," the day that he, Jackey, and two other aspiring youths climbed to one -of the high" windows in Kilthubber chapel, to hear his Grace's sermon in, comfort, and, as Jackey said, without having the life "scroodged"- out of them. "An' Brummagem," added Phil, "do you folly Wattle-toes, for fear he might bring the wrong wan." "I think I'll go down to the forge after 'em," said Billy. Heffernan, "as they'll be apt to box about id, an' delay, ye too long." But Billy Heffernan's real motive was to tell Norah Lahy that Tom Cuddehy had "disappointed," as. it: occurred to him that Norah might think the Knocknagow boys were beaten because there was no" cheering. J Barney soon appeared with the sledge upon his shoul-. der, and Mat Donovan, after balancing it in his hand, laid it at Captain French's feet. - . The captain stripped with the look of a man sure to win, and handed his coat and vest to his servant. A murmur, partly of admiration and partly of anxiety for the result of the contest, arose from the crowd of men, women, and children around, as he bared his arms; for compared with them, Mat Donovan's appeared almost slight and attenuated. ~~ . ;\ "I never saw the like of him," some one was heard to exclaim in a low, solemn tone, but which was distinctly audible in the dead silence. "" - He took the heavy sledge, and placing his foot to the mark, swung it backwards and forwards twice, and then wheeling rapidly full round, brought his foot to the mark again, and, flying from his arm as from a catapult, the sledge sailed through the air, and fell at a distance that seemed to startle many of the spectators. It was then brought back and handed to Mat Donovan, who took it with a quiet smile that somewhat re-as-sured his 'friends. Mat threw the sledge some three feet beyond, the captain's mark, and many of those around drew a long breath of relief; but there was no applause. ... But the captain's next throw was fully six feet beyond Mat Donovan's, and several of his father's tenants and retainers "cried, "More power, captain - Mat Donovan, however, cleared the best mark again by three feet. , : ■.';. ..';-" .. The captain now grasped the sledge, clenching ■ his teeth, and looking so fierce and tiger-like, his eyes flashing from under his knitted brows,-that the women at the front, of the crowd involuntarily pressed back appalled. With .every muscle strained to the utmost, he hurled the huge sledge from him, falling forward upon his hands; and as the iron ploughed up the green sward far beyond Mat Donovan's throw, the shout of the captain's partisans was drowned by something like a cry of pain from the majority of the spectators. '.:. '"-"'• ..•■" •'."'. "Begor, captain," said Mat Donovan, surveying his adversary with a look of thoroughly genuine admiration, "you're good!": ■';-.-:; :%; •■■ ..'•".. ■-; " ; -, :: .; .- :::- Taking his place again at the stand; he laid down the sledge, r and, folding his arms, fell into deep thought. Many, a tear-dimmed eye was fixed -upon him, for all imagined that he was beaten/; v . "' ' ':■,."'■ ~~ . ~ y : 1-His. heart'll break," Bessy Morris heard a girl near her murmur. >'yl- > i,. ;'u~. - ,- : -v :?. ■■■}}'■_:~' : ' : .' ~ : ? ,:.*■*■'■ '. (■-. - "The captain" is a good fellow," thought Mat Donovan; ' "an' I'd like to lave him the majority—if do it : honorable." ,-* ;■• : , ~ - •-'. -.-- .;l He looked on the y anxious faces around him; he looked

at Bessy Morris; but still: he was undecided. Some one struck the big drum >a single blow," as if ; by : accident, and, 'turning round quickly, r the V thatched roofs of ; the r hamlet caught ■■ his eye. And,: strange to say, those old mud walls and; thatched roofs roused him as nothing else could. r His -breast heaved, as, with glistening eyes, and that soft * plaintive, smile of his,- he uttered the words, "For the credit ofthe little village!" in. a tone of the deepest tenderness. Then, grasping the sledge in his right hand, and drawing himself up; to his full height, he measured the captain's cast with his eye. The muscles of his arms seemed to "start out like cirds of "steel as he wheeled slowly round and shot the ponderous hammer through the, air. His eyes dilated, as, with quivering nostrils, he watched its flight, till it fell so - far beyond the best mark that even he himself started with astonishment. Then a shout of exultation burst from the excited throng; hands were convulsively grasped, and hats sent flying into the"air and in their wild joy they crushed around him and tried to lift him upon their shoulders. - ■'■.„.■■ "0 boys, boys," he remonstrated, "be 'asy. Sure 'tisn't the first time ye see me -throw a sledge. Don't do anything that might offend the captain afther comin' here among us to show ye a little diversion." This remonstrance had the desired effect, and the people drew back and broke up into groups to discuss the event' more calmly. But Mat's eye lighted up with pride when he saw Miss Kearney upon the fence with her handkerchief fluttering in the breeze above her head, and Hugh waving his/hat by her side. Even the ladies in the phaeton caught the enthusiasm and displayed their handkerchiefs; while Grace ran to the doctor and got him to lift her up in his arms in order that she might have a- better view. "Donovan," said Captain French, "your match is not in Europe. I was never beaten before." "Well, it took a Tipperary-man to beat you, captain," returned Mat Donovan. "That's some consolation," said the captain. "I'm a Tipperary-boy myself, and I'm glad you reminded me of it." "Mat," said Billy Heffernan, with the tears standing in his eyes, "can you forgive me?" -_■ "For what, Billy?" asked Mat, in surprise. "For misdoubtin' you," -replied Billy, gulping down his emotion. "How is that?" returned Mat: v "Whin I see you pausin' an' lookin' so quare,"said Billy Heffernan, turning away to dash the tears from his face, "I said to Phil Lahy that Knocknagow was gone." "Knocknagow is not gone, Billy,-" exclaimed Mat, shaking him vigorously by the hand. "Knocknagow is not gone." " "Knocknagow is not gone," repeated a clear mellow voice behind them; and on looking round they saw Father McMahon close to them, mounted on his bay mare. . "Knocknagow is not gone," Father McMahon repeated, while his eye wandered from one to another of the groups of youths and maidens who had again returned to their sports over the field. "But how long can it be. said that Knocknagow is not gone?" he added dreamily. . The good priest was just after kneeling by poor Mick Brien, stretched upon his wisp of straw in the miserable cabin; and as he counted the houses-that had been levelled along the way, his* heart sank within him, and he asked himself were the people he loved, and who loved him in their heart of hearts, doomed indeed to destruction? He rode back again, seeming to have forgotten the purpose for which he had turned into the field. But seeing Barney Brodherick making a short-cut to the forge, with the sledge on his shoulder, Father McMahon called to him. lC :.['- '■'-■ ~-:, :'■ .-:': ; : "■■-....' ;■■'■*'-; * "Oh, bloodan'ouris muttered Barney, "I'm goin' to get id now for ever, for losin' Mass—God help me ' "Barney," said the priest, "do you remember anything about a gun of Mr. Kearney's" you hid in a. bush?" : "Be cripes! your reverence," returned Barney with a start, "id wint r out uv my head till this blessed minwre. The masther tould me to brin' id over to Mat to mend the stock that Mr. Richard broke, an' the beagles chained to be passin' hot fut afther a hare, an' I thrust the gun into a brake ]uv briers there above, an' cut aftiier- the ' hunt. An' God help me,'v : I never thought uvHd, to carry id to Mat, but I'll go, for id now." ~ "" - -

.; "'Tis not where you put it," returned the priest. "'Tig in the square bog-hole in Billy Heffernan's turbary. I was desired to tell you so, lest you should get blamed; but say nothing about my telling yon." . ; "The square bog-hole," muttered Barney, as the priest rode on. "Sure the divil. a bottom the square bog-hole have. In the name uv the Lord I'll ax lave uv the masther to go see my mother, an' keep ,out uv harm's way till Sathurday, at any rate." .And Barney, drooping the sledge from his.shoulder on the field— wk*re it-remained till Vow "Maker broke his scythe against it the next summerhurried off. to ask leave to go to. see his mother. ~ "I'm comin'. to ax you to give me lave to go home for a couple uv days, sir," said Barney, with quite a brokenhearted look. "Home returned his master, "what business have jf.u homer'.' V "My mother that's ill-disposhed, sir," replied Barney, sorrowfully. "More d —n shame for her," said his master. "Good luck to you, sir," exclaimed Barney, brightening up with extraordinary suddenness, and setting off for tne little cabin above Glounamuckadhee, where he found his venerable parent in excellent health and spirits. "I wish we had some place for a dance," remarked Mat Donovan, "to put the girls in good humor." "I'll give you my barn for a dance," said Tom Hogan proudly; "the best 'barn in the parish." ■* "More power,- Tom," exclaimed a dozen voices. "Up wud the music." Mat Donovan threw the strap of the big drum over his head, and a succession of loud bangs reminded Mr. Lowe of his fright on Christmas morning, when he thought, a blunderbuss had been discharged through his window. Billy Heffernan and the other musicians produced their fifes, and a loud cheer greeted the announcement that they were to have a dance in Tom Hogan's barn. The sound of the drum seemed to rouse Father McMahon from his gloomy reverie, as he rode on through the village. "No; they are not gone yet," he thought, as he stopped under the beech-treelooking up among the boughs, as if he wanted Tommy Lahy to hold the bay mare, and thought the top of the tree the most likely place to find him —"let us trust in God, and hope for the best." Honor Lahy appeared at the door with a curtesy; and verily that wholesome, honest, smiling face of hers seemed fo say, even more plainly than the big drum itself, that Knocknagow was safe and sound —a little old or so; but hale and hearty and kindly, withal. "Well, Mrs. Lahy.,...how is she?" "Finely, your reverence," Honor replied. Father McMahon cast his eyes up* through the boughs again. • ; ."He's gone wud the drum, sir," said Honor. "Oh, yes, that's quite right. I'll just step in to see Norah," returned Father McMahon, alighting and hanging the rein on an iron hook in the beech-tree. ",-r. And how Honor Lahy's face did light up as she curtesied again! And how poor Norah's eyes beamed with pleasure and thankfulness! After inquiring how she felt, and hoping she would be better when the fine weather came, he Was going away, when a long roll of the drum softened by distance made him pause. "Do you feel sorry that you cannot join them?" he asked, looking pityingly into the poor girl's pale face. "Oh, no, sir," she repliedand there was gladness in her low, sweet, tones; '"Tis just the same as if I was with them." '■'■.' ~": "Ah, then," added her mother, "an' she makes me go out to see which side uv the field the girls do be at, an' then she thinks she do be wud 'cm from that out." > "That's right,, that's right," said Father McMahon, hurrying out as if the bay mare were trying to break loose and run away. And as he took the rein from the hook, Father McMahon flourished his crimson silk pocket-hand-kerchief and blew his nose loudly.■;'■,-' {, ■' :'■■>"■:.Throwing.-the rein over his aiVn, 'and thrusting his thumbs in his waistcoat, Father McMahon" then walked down the hill, with his head so high, and looking so awfully proud, that Jack Delany's wife snatched up the twins front the middle" of thef>Gad|j, seizing one by the. small of the

back and the other by the left armwhich, strange to say, was not dislocated that timeand ran with them into the house, not even venturing to stop to pick up the "rattler" and wooden "corncrake" which Brummagem had bought for the twins at the lair after winning one-and-fourpence at "trick-o'-the-loop" ; Mrs. Delany being fully persuaded that in his then mood Father McMahon would think nothing of crushing the twinsone under each foot; and then turn round and ask her how dared she. bring such nuisances into the world, two at a time! "God bless us!" exclaimed Jack Delany's wife as she stooped.to pick up the "rattler" and "corncrake," when the priest had passed, "did any wan ever see a man wud such a proud walk?" "Mother," said Norah Lahy, "I'm as sure as I'm alive that I know two saints who are still walking the earth." "Who are they?" her mother asked. "Father McMahon and Miss Kearney," replied Norah. "Why, then, I know a saint," thought the poor woman, with a sorrowful shake of her head, "I know a saint, an' she's not able to walk at all." And Honor Lahy turned away her face and wept silently. Great was Phil Lahy's astonishment when he heard that Tom Hogan had given his barn for the dance even without being asked. And, after pondering over the extraordinary circumstance for a minute or two, Phil declared that, "after that, we'd get the Repeal of the Union." He could .talk of nothing, however, but Mat Donovan's triumph, which he attributed in no small degree to certain "directions" which he had given Mat; and even when Judy Brophy's new admirer beckoned him aside, and wanted to know "what*part of a..woman was her contour," Phil answered shortly that he never "studied them subjects much"; so that the young man, who thought he ha.d hit upon a new compliment, went back to Judy's side no wiser than he came, muttering, as he rubbed his poll with a puzzled lock, that he "didn't like to venture the ' contour,' though he was nearly sure 'twas, all right;" and he had to go over the old compliments again; to which Judy Brophy listened with as much delight as if she had not heard them all fifty times before. And now it is only fair to say that* there was not a warmer admirerthat is, a warmer female admirer—of Nancy Hogan's beauty at the dance that mjjjit than Judy Brophy; and in protesting against her brother's bringing home a*.penniless bride, perhaps Judy Brophy did no more than a good many tolerably amiable young women might have done under similar circumstances. And, furthermore, we feel bound to admit, that were it not for those two hundred sovereigns out of Larry Clancy's old saucepan, that somewhat pedantic young man; who is so assiduous in his attention, would not be puzzling his brains about her "contour," as he is at this moment. "Bessy Morris's is the only sad face I can see," Grace remarked to Mary, as the joyous crowd left the field. "I wonder what can have happened to her." Mary beckoned to Bessy as she was passing, and after saying something about the alteration at a dress, asked carelessly what was it Captain French had been saying to her. - 1 ' '' "Well, he was humbugging me about the sergeant," Bessy replied, with a look of pain. "Oh, yes, yes," returned Mary, brightening up. "I understand. Good..evening. N And tell Mat Donovan how delighted I am at his victory." Norah Lahy sat in her straw-chair looking into the bright turf fire, and deriving as much pleasure from the dance in Tom Hogan's barn as if her foot were the fleetest among them all. But she hoped, when the dance was over, that Billy Heffernan r would come down and play "Auld Lang Syne" for her—or "something lively," if her mother put her veto upon "grievous ould airs." (To be continued.)