PART III.
Tom.Well Pady, and what did you do when your wife died?
Teag.Dear honey, what would I do: do you think I was such a big fool as to die too, I am sure, If I had I would not have got fair play, when I am not so old yet as my father was when he died.
Tom.No, Pady, it is not that I mean, was you sorry, or did you weep for her?
Teag.Weep for her; by shaint Patrick I would not weep nor yet be sorry, suppose my own mother and all the women in Ireland had died seven years before I was born.
Tom.What did you do with your children when she died?
Teag.Do you imagine I was such a big fool as bury my children alive, along with a dead woman: Arra, dear honey, we always commonly give nothing along with a dead person, but an old shirt, a winding sheet, a big hammer, with a long candle, and an Irish silver three-penny piece?
Tom.Dear Pady, and what use do they make of all them things?
Teag.Then, Tom, since you are so inquisitive, you must go ask the priest.
Tom.What did you make of your children then Pady?
Teag.And what should I make of them, do you imagine that I should give them into the hands of the butchers, as they had been a parcel of young hogs: by shaint Patrick, I had more unnaturality in me, than to put them in an hospital as others do.
Tom.No, I suppose you would leave them with your friends?
Teag.Ay, ay, a poor man’s friends is sometimes worse than a profest enemy: the best friend I ever had in the world was my own pocket while my money lasted; but I left two babes between the priest’s door and the parish church, because I thought it was a place of mercy, and then set out for England in quest of another fortune.
Tom.And did you not take good-night with your friends ere you came away?
Teag.Arra, dear honey, I had no friends in the world but an Irish half-crown, and I would have been very sorry to parted with such a dear pocket-companion at such a time.
Tom.I fancy Pady, you’ve come off with what they call a moon-shine flitting.
Teag.You lie like a thief now, for I did not see sun, moon, nor stars, all the night then: for I set out from Cork at the dawn of night, and I had travelled twenty miles all but twelve, before gloaming in the morning.
Tom.And where did you go to take shipping?
Teag.Arra, dear honey, I came to a country village called Dublin, as a big a city as any market-town in all England, where I got myself abroad of a little young boat, with a parcel of fellows, and a long leather bag, I supposed them to be tinkers, until I asked what they carried in that leather sack; they told me it was the English mail they were going over with: then said I, is the milns so scant in England, that they must send over their corn to Ireland to grind it; the comical cunning fellows persuaded me it was so; then I went downto a little house below the water, hard by the rigg-back of the boat, and laid me down on their leather sack, where I slept myself almost to death with hunger. And dear Tom, to tell you plainly, when I awaked I did not know where I was, but thought I was dead and buried, for I found nothing all round me but wooden walls and timber above.
Tom.And how did you come to yourself, to know where you was at last.
Teag.By the law, dear shoy, I scratched my head in a hundred parts, and then set me down to think upon it, so I minded it was my wife that was dead, and not me, and that I was alive in the young post boat, with the fellows that carries over English meal from the Irish milns.
Tom.O then, Pady, I am sure yon was glad when you found yourself alive?
Teag.Arra, dear shoy, I was very sure I was alive, but I did not think to live long, so I thought it was better for me to steal and be hanged, than to live all my days, and die directly with hunger at last.
Tom.What, had you no meat nor money along with you?
Teag.Arra, dear shoy, I gave all the money to the captain of the house or gudeman of the ship, to carry me into the sea, or over to England, and when I was like to eat my old brogues for want of victuals, I drew my hanger and cut their leather sack thinkin’ to get a lick of their meal; but allelieu, dear shoy, I found nothing, meal nor seeds, but a parcel of papers and letters, a poor morsel indeed for a hungry man.
Tom.O then Pady you laid down your honesty for nothing.
Teag.Ay, ay, I was a great theif, but got nothing to steal.
Tom.And how did you come to get victuals at last?
Teag.Allelieu, dear honey, the thoughts of meat and drink, death and life, and every thing else, was out of my mind, I had not a thought but one.
Tom.And what was that Pady?
Teag.To go down among the fishes and become a whale; then I would have lived an easy life all my days, having nothing to do but drink salt water, and eat caller oysters.
Tom.What Pady, was you like to be drowned again?
Teag.Ay, ay, drowned, as cleanly drowned as a fish, for the sea blew very loud, and the wind ran so high, that we were all cast away safe on shore, and not one of us drowned at all.
Tom.And where did you go when you came on shore?
Teag.Arra, dear honey, I was not able to go any where, you might cast a knot on my belly, I was so hollow in my middle so I went into a gentleman’s house and told him the bad fortune I had of being drowned between Ireland and the foot of his garden; where we came all safe ashore. But all the comfort I got from him was a word of truth.
Tom.And what was that Pady?
Teag.Why he told me if I had been a good boy at home: I needed not to have gone so far to push my fortune with an empty pocket; to which I answered, and what magnifies that, as long as I am a good workman at no trade at all.
Tom.I suppose, Pady, the gentleman would make you dine with him?
Teag.I really thought I was, when I saw them roasting and skinning so many black chickens which was nothing but a few dead crows they were going to eat; ho, ho, said I, them is but dry meat at the best, of all the fowls that flie, commend me to the wing of an ox: but all that came to my share, was a piece of boiled herring and a roasted potatoe, that was the first bit of bread I ever eat in England.
Tom.Well, Pady, what business did you follow after in England, when you was so poor?
Teag.What sir, do you imagine I was poor when I came over on such an honourable occasion as to list, and bring myself to no preferment at all. As I was an able bodied man in the face, I thought to be made a brigadeer, a grandedeer, or a fuzeleer, or even one of them blew gowns that holds the fiery stick to the bung-hole of the big cannons, when they let them off, to fright away the French; I was as sure as no man alive ere I came from Cork, the least preferment I could get, was to be riding-master to a regiment of marines, or one of the black horse itself.
Tom.Well Pady, you seem to be a very clever man, to be all in one body, what height are you?
Teag.Arra, dear shoy, I am five foot nothing, all but one inch.
Tom.And where in England was it you listed?
Teag.Arra, dear shoy, I was going through that little country village, the famous city of Chester, the streets was very sore by reason of the hardness of my feet, and lameness of my brogues, so I went but very slowly a-cross the streets, from port to port is a pretty long way, but I being weary thought nothing of it: then the people came all crowding to me as I had been a world’s wonder, or the wandering Jew: For the rain blew in my face, and the wind wetted all my belly, which caused me to turn the backside of my coat before, and my buttons behind, which was a good safeguard to my body, and the starvation of my naked back: as I had not a good shirt.
Tom.I am sure then, Pady, they would take you for a fool?
Teag.No, no, sir, they admired me for my wisdom, for I always turned my buttons before, when the wind blew on behind, but I wondered greatly how the people knew my name, and where I came from: for every one told another, that was Pady from Cork: I suppose they knew my face by seeing my name in the newspapers.
Tom.Well, Pady, what business did you follow in Chester?
Teag.To be sure I was not idle, working at nothing at all, until a decruiting sergeant came to town with two or three fellows along with him, one beating on a fiddle, and another playing on a drum, tossing their airs thro’ the street, as if they were going to be married: and I saw them courting none but young men; so to bring myself to no preferment at all, I listed for a soldier because I was too high for a grandedeer.
Tom.And what listing money did you get, Pady?
Teag.Arra, dear shoy, I got five thirteens and a pair of English brogues; the guinea and the rest of the gold was sent away to London, to the King my master, to buy me new shirts, a cockade, and common treasing for my hat, they mademe swear the malicious oath of devilrie against the King, the colours, and my captain, telling me if ever I desert and not run away, that I should be shot, and then whipt to death, through the regiment.
Tom.No Pady: it is first whipt and then shot you mean.
Teag.Arra, dear shoy, it is all one thing at last, but it is best to be shot and then whipt, the cleverest way to die, I’ll warrant you.
Tom.How much pay did you get, Pady?
Teag.Do you know the little tall fat seargeant that feed me to be a soldier?
Tom.And how should I know them I never saw, you fool?
Teag.Dear shoy, you may know him whether you see him or not! for his face is all bored in big holes with the small pox, his nose is the colour of a lobster-toe, and his chin like a well washen potatoe: he’s the biggest rogue in our kingdom, you’ll know him when he cheats you, and the wide world; and another mark, he dights his mouth before he drinks, and blows his nose before he takes a snuff; the rogue height me sixpence a day, kill or no kill: and when I laid Sunday and Saturday both together, and all the days in one day, I can’t make a penny above fivepence of it.
Tom.You should have kept an account, and asked your arrears once a month.
Teag.That’s what I did, but he read a paternoster, out of his prayer book, wherein all our names are written; so much for a stop-hold to my gun, to bucklers, to a pair of comical harn-hose, with leather buttons from top to toe; and worst of all, he would have no less than a penny a week to a doctor; arra, said I, I never had a sore finger nor yet a sick toe, all the days of my life, then what have I to do with the doctor, or the doctor to do with me?
Tom.And did he make you pay all these things?
Teag.Ay, ay, pay and better pay; he took me before his captain, who made me pay all was in his book. Arra, master captain, said I, you are a comical sort of a fellow now, you might as well make me pay for my coffin before I be dead, asto pay for a doctor before I be sick; to which he answered in a passion, sirra, said he, I have seen many a better man buried without a coffin: sir, said I, then I’ll have a coffin, die when I will, if there be as much wood in all the world, or I shall not be buried at all. Then he called for the sergeant, saying, you, sir, go and buy that man’s coffin, and put it in the store till he die, and stop sixpence a week off his pay for it: No, no, sir, said I, I’ll rather die without a coffin; and seek none when I’m dead; but if you are for clipping another sixpence off my poor pay, keep it all to yourself, and I’ll swear all your oaths of agreement we had back again, and then seek soldiers where you will.
Tom.O then Pady, how did you end the matter?
Teag.Arra, dear shoy, by the mights of shaint Patrick and help of my own brogues, I both ended it, and mended it, for the next night before that, I gave them leg bail for my fidelity, and then went about the country a fortune-teller, dumb and deaf as I was not.
Tom.How old was you Pady when you was a soldier last?
Teag.Arra, dear honey, I was three dozen all but two, and it is only but two years since, so I want only four years of three dozen yet, and when I live six dozen more, I’ll be older than I am, I’ll warrand you.
Tom.O but Pady, by your account, you are three dozen of years old already.
Teag.O what for a big fool are you now Tom, when you count the years I lay sick; which time I count no time at all.