Kings and Commoners

Kings and Commoners“Well,” said Padna, as he rested his elbows on the parapet of Blackrock Castle, and watched the river Lee winding its way towards the ocean, “when I look upon a scene so charming as this, with its matchless beauty, I feel that I am not myself at all, but some mediæval king or other, surveying my dominions, and waiting for the sound of the hunter’s horn to wake me from my revery. If at the present moment, an army of chivalrous archers, with white plumes in their green hats and bows and arrows slung on their shoulders and Robin Hood himself at their head, were to march from out the woods at Glountawn, I wouldn’t utter the least note of surprise or exclamation. No, Micus, not a single word would I say, even though they might lay a herd of slaughtered deer at my feet, and pin a falcon’swing on my breast; so much do I feel a part of the good old days when there was no duty on tobacco and whiskey.”“Sometimes,” said Micus, “I too feel that I own the whole countryside, and in a sense I do. Because I can get as much pleasure from looking at it, and admiring all its dazzling splendour, as if I had the trouble of keeping it in order and paying rates and taxes. And after all, what does any of us want but the world to look at, enough to eat and drink, and a little diversion when we feel like it?”“A man with imagination and insight,” said Padna, “need never want for entertainment, because he can always appreciate and enjoy the folly of others, without having to pay for it. But be that as it may, ’tis more satisfying still to have a love of nature and all that’s beautiful, and a healthy distaste for all that’s coarse and ugly.”“The world is made up of all kinds of people, who want to enjoy themselves in some way or other,” said Micus, “and the spirit of destruction is the Devil’s contribution to human happiness.Why, man alive, you could drown the whole German Army, and the Kaiser and all his henchmen, in the depths of beautiful Lough Mahon that stretches before us, and the French wouldn’t feel the least sorry. And you could drown the whole French Army and General Joffre, and the Germans wouldn’t feel sorry. And you could drown Sir Blunderbluff Carson, and John Redmond wouldn’t feel sorry, and you could drown the Russian, French, English and German armies, and the socialists wouldn’t be sorry, and you could drown all the socialists and the Salvation Army, and the Devil wouldn’t be sorry.”“All the same,” said Padna, “’twould be a pity to wound the dignity of the Kaiser by drowning him in a comparatively small and shallow place like Lough Mahon when he could be drowned just as comfortably and easily in the middle of the Atlantic or Pacific Ocean,—or the Dardanelles, for that matter. And as for all the trouble ‘twould give the Russians, you could tie him by the heels to a clothesline in your back yard, the way they tied the tails of the Kilkenny cats, anddip his head in a bucket of goat’s milk mixed with gunpowder, and let him drown that way.”“There’s good and bad in the worst of us,” said Micus, “and I am sure the Allies would be sorry to have him drowned at all, when he could be given, for his own private use and benefit, a superabundance of everlasting peace tokens, such as they give the poor devils in the trenches.”“Free samples of poisonous gas, you mean, I presume,” said Padna.“Yes,” said Micus. “However, ’tisn’t for the likes of us to be discussing the ways of mighty monarchs when we are only poor men ourselves.”“Hard work,” said Padna, “never killed the gentry.”“No,” said Micus, “nor decency either, and if they were to eat twice as much, ‘twouldn’t make them any better.”“When you come to think about it,” said Padna, “’tis the hell of a thing why a man should have to work for himself, or have to work at all.”“Indeed it is, and I always lose my temperwhen I think of the poor men and women, too, who must get up when it is only time to be going to bed, and work until they fall on the floor from sheer exhaustion and no one to care or bother about them. Sure, there must be something wrong, if that sort of thing is right, and the gentry should be ashamed of themselves for making such conditions possible and they doing nothing but spending money that they never earned, and making laws for the poor.”“’Tis disgusting,” said Micus, “to think that we should have to work for any one, even though they might be the Prince of Wales, or the Duke of the North Pole himself.”“I can’t see for the life of me,” said Padna, “why we couldn’t make our living as easy as the birds of the air, the fish of the sea, the insects of the field, or the policemen. Sure, when you come to think of it, a king is no more than any other man, only for all the fuss that does be made about him. And I don’t see why one man should be thought better than another when he isn’t. Only for the fine clothes that some of us wear,no one would take the least notice of us, and if you were to put a dead king and a dead duke, and yourself and myself beside each other, Micus, on the top of the Galtee Mountains, and exposed our carcasses to the rains and the snow, not to mention the southwesterly gales, for three months, when the experts would come along to identify us, ’tis the way they would think that you were the duke and I was the king, and the duke was no one but yourself, and who could the king be but myself.”“And maybe ’tis the way that they would think that you were only the duke, and that myself was the king,” said Padna.“’Tis true, of course, that a king is no more than one of ourselves when he is dead, but there is no doubt about him being a good deal more when he is alive. Nevertheless, it would be a proud thing for the Padna Dan family to have one of their kinsmen buried with the pomp and ceremony of a mighty monarch, and they never to produce anything more than birdcatchers and bowl players. Yes, Padna, ‘twould be a greatthing entirely, and ye that always lived in a house that you could put your hand down the chimney and open the front door, if you forgot your latch-key. The mistake would never be discovered till the Judgment Day, and then you’d rise from your grave, glorious and triumphant with a crown of shiny jewels on your head, and a royal sceptre in your hand, and a robe of state that would cover you all over, and you looking as happy and contented as though you were used to wearing overcoats all your lifetime.”“And what about yourself, Micus,” said Padna, “and you with a red cap on your head, like the dukes wear on state occasions, and a snowball in one hand and a bear’s claw in the other, the way the people would think you were the Duke of the North Pole and not yourself at all?”“All the same,” said Micus, “I’d rather be a duke at any time than have to work for a living.”“So would I,” said Padna. “And in that sense, we only echo the true sentiments of every democrat.Yet, when I was a young man, I never bothered my head about royalty, but I was as full of wild fancies as a balloon is of wind. And there wasn’t one from the Old Head of Kinsale to the Giants’ Causeway more headstrong and intolerant than myself.”“I believe every word of that,” said Micus.“Like other temperamental and idealistic people, I naturally felt very disappointed and likewise disgusted with the existing order of things, and there and then I ses to myself: ‘Padna Dan,’ ses I, ‘the world is in a wretched condition and badly wants a great reformer.’ So with that I appointed myself mediator between good and evil, and indeed, at first I thought it would be possible to form some kind of compromise between those two giant forces that have kept the world in awe ever since Adam was a boy. But subsequently I decided that the best and only thing to do would be to rid the world of evil altogether.”“And how could that be done at all?” said Micus.“Well, as I was filled with the enthusiasm and ignorance of youth, I tried to make up my mind whether I would follow in the footsteps of Savonarola, St. Francis, or St. Patrick himself, but when I thought of what happened to Savonarola, and after all these years we don’t know whether St. Patrick was a Scotchman or an Irishman, but principally when I took into consideration my own strong sense of personal comfort, and my insignificance withal, when compared to greater men who have suffered so much and accomplished so little, I finally decided to leave the regeneration of mankind to the suffragettes or some one else.”“You’re a philosopher,” said Micus, “but I’m afraid that you will accomplish no more for humanity with your old talk, than a patent medicine advertisement or the police themselves. Sure, every young man with a spark of decency in him must have felt as generous as yourself at some time or other in his life. If we could all reform ourselves before trying to reform others, then there would be some hope for mankind, but generous impulses such as yours, Padna Dan,are only produced by the assimilation of black coffee or strong tea, or else an innate conceit. When the Lord made the world, he must have known the kind of people he was going to put there. Hence, Padna, the superabundance of people like yourself to be met with everywhere.”“Well,” said Padna, “whether we mean what we say or not, we must keep talking. Sure, ’tis talk that keeps the world going, and if we are not dead in a hundred years, we will be very near it, so it behooves us one and all to enjoy ourselves while we are here, lest it may be unwise to postpone our pleasure until we arrive in the other world.”“This world,” said Micus, “in a sense, is good enough for me, and I wouldn’t object to living on here for ever, if I could, instead of taking a chance with what’s to follow.”“Life is a game of ups and downs, and love very often is an accident. If we did not meet our wives, we never would have married them, of course. And if our wives did not meet us, they might have met some one better. And happy indeed is theman who marries the woman he loves before she marries some one else.”“’Tis sad to think,” said Padna, “that when we get sensible enough to appreciate our own folly, the beauties of nature, and the idiosyncracies of our friends and enemies, we find ourselves on the brink of the grave. Yet, we might all be worse off and treated no better than the poor prisoners of Sarduanna.”“We are all prisoners, in a sense, from the very minute we are born, and we may be prisoners after we are dead too, for all any of us know,” said Micus.“That may be,” said Padna, “but nevertheless, some of us know how to treat ourselves better than the authorities treat the prisoners of Sarduanna.”“And how are they treated at all? Is it the way they get too much to eat and not enough of work, or too much work and not enough to eat?”“’Tisn’t so much one as the other, but something worse than either. They get nothing toeat but pickled pork from one end of the year to the other,” said Padna.“And what do they get to quench their thirst?” said Micus.“Salt fish,” said Padna.The Folly of Being Foolish“What are you doing there?” said Padna Dan to Micus Pat, as he watched him sifting sand between his fingers as he stood on the shore of Bantry Bay.“I’m doing what nobody ever thought of doing before and what no one may ever think of doing again,” said Micus. “I’m counting the pebbles of Bantry Bay from Dunboy to Glengarriffe. And that’s more than Napoleon thought of doing.”“And why should you be doing the likes of that?” said Padna.“Well,” said Micus, “when they’re all counted, I’ll know more than before and be as famous as the King of Spain himself.”“You might as well be trying to count all the blades of grass from Dunkirk to Belgrade, but you’d be dead and forgotten long before you’d have as much as the ten thousandth part of half of them counted,” said Padna.“What do you know about counting pebbles or the red skeeories that does be on the white thorn-bushes in the month of August?” said Micus.“As much as any sensible man wants to know,” said Padna. “If you want to be really foolish, you ought to leave the pebbles alone, and start counting all the grains of sand in the world.”“I’ll count the pebbles first,” said Micus.“’Tis only vanity that makes a man do what every one else is too sensible to do,” said Padna. “But ’tis better to be foolish itself and get married than to be so vain that you don’t know you’re foolish.”“And why should I get married?” said Micus.“Well,” said Padna, “a man’s wife is always a great comfort to him when he wants to get fed, when he’s sick in bed and requires nursing, or when he’s too well off and suffers from discontent.Besides, ’tis a great thing to have a wife to quarrel with when you’re afraid of quarreling with any one else.”“And why should I quarrel with my wife without reason if I had one?”“Abuse, you know, is the great safety valve that keeps the world from exploding, and if you won’t abuse your wife, she’ll abuse you,” said Padna, “and isn’t it better to be first than last in anything?”“I don’t think so,” said Micus. “I’d rather be the last than the first man to meet a widow looking for a husband.”“And why?” said Padna.“There’s no escape from widows,” said Micus, “whatever accidents might happen with inexperienced young women.”“There’s something in what you say,” said Padna. “Perseverance, pugnacity, and stupidity are necessary for success if you aren’t cursed with intelligence and good breeding. And you can get any young woman without money to marry you against her will, but if you’re wise enough youwon’t. I need not tell you that lovers are only sensible when they commence wondering at the foolishness of their own children.”“A man thinking about getting married should have two women to choose from.”“And why, might I ask?”“Well, because if he lost one he could have the other, and if he lost both he would know what it is to be lucky. Marriage, you know, always makes one master and two slaves.”“’Tis too bad that there should be any slaves.”“It is, but while men will marry for love, and women for money, we cannot expect a change in our social conditions.”“There will be no change in the world while men suffering from indigestion will marry cooks.”“That’s a wise thing for a sensible man to do. A cranky and delicate man should marry a nurse, a man always out of employment should marry a dressmaker, and a man fond of quietness and reading should live with a married sister, if she has no children.”“Wisha, after all’s said and done, there’snothing worse nor better than being a bachelor, as the case may be. ’Tis better to be a bachelor, I’m thinking, for you may go to your grave without being disillusioned. But when a man’s dead, it doesn’t matter whether he was married or not, or shot by an ivory-handled revolver or died from rheumatics.”“A man suffering from rheumatics should be mindful of the westerly gales, and the frosts of winter, and keep from eating salty beef and tomatoes. I think a rheumaticky man should get married, but should not marry a woman with a tendency to gout. And ’tis always well to marry an orphan because there’s nothing worse than mothers-in-law, except sisters-in-law, and they’re the devil entirely.”“To change the subject,” said Micus, “I don’t think it is fair to catch lobsters at night. No one wants to be disturbed in their sleep.”“If you look at things like that,” said Padna, “you’ll never be happy, and though it isn’t easy to please myself, I think ’tis a grand thing entirely that all caterpillars are vegetarians.”“I don’t think we should waste time talking about caterpillars. They never do anything but eat cabbage and cause gardeners to use bad language. Of course, the history of a buffalo or a butterfly is a wonderful thing, but if elephants were to grow wings we wouldn’t take any notice of canaries, bees, or water hens,” said Micus.“I’d give a lot of money to see a flock of elephants flying over the Rock of Cashel,” said Padna.“That would be a great thing for the newspapers and the moving pictures, though perhaps a dangerous thing for people of a nervous disposition,” said Micus.“And ‘twould be the devil of a thing entirely if they forgot to fly.”“Nervousness is a curse or a blessing, according to the individual, of course. The evil that some men do lives after them, and the good does be interred with their bones.”“That’s true, but when men do neither good nor harm they might as well keep out of politicsaltogether. No man is as wise or as foolish as he thinks he is, and if you were to capture all the stray thoughts that does be floating about in your head and put them down in writing, you’d be the greatest curiosity that ever was.”“When a man loses a button,” said Micus, “he should immediately sew it on for himself, if he couldn’t get any one to do it for him.”“Selfishness is the basis of success,” said Padna.“To give away what you don’t want is wisdom without generosity, and to keep what is of no use to you is the worst kind of folly.”“Fighting is a natural instinct, and to fight for what’s yours, be it honor or property, is a noble thing, but to fight for what doesn’t belong to you is both dangerous and foolish.”“That’s so indeed. I saw two crows fighting for a crust of bread that a child dropped in the street, and they didn’t cease until both had their eyes picked out.”“And who got the crust?”“A sparrow who came along while they were fighting, and devoured it.”“Then the crows without knowing it became philanthropists.”“Well, ’tis better to make mistakes if some one benefits by them than to make no mistakes at all. I think I’ll go on counting the pebbles and leave you to find a philosophy for yourself,” said Micus.“Well,” said Padna, “when a man can content himself by being foolish, ’tis only a fool that would be a philosopher.”The Lady of the Moon“’Tis a strange thing,” said Padna to Micus, as he sat on a boulder in his back garden, carving a dog’s head on the handle of a blackthorn walking stick, “that notwithstanding all the millions of people in the world, no two are alike, and stranger still that no two leaves of a tree, or blades of grass, are alike either. And while in a sense we are always doing something for others, ’tis ourselves we do be thinking about most of the time.”“True, very true! And as they say across the water: ‘Every man for himself, and the dollar for us all.’ Or as the Devil said when he joined the police force: ‘There’s no one like our own,’” said Micus.“Life is full of surprises, and the world is fullof strange people,” said Padna. “And ’tis a good job that we are like the leaves of the trees, and the blades of grass, so alike and yet so different. If we all had the same tastes, we might have no taste at all, so to speak.”“Speaking of strange people,” said Micus, “I wonder if you ever heard tell of one Malachi Riordan who used to sit in his back yard, every fine night, watching the reflection of the moon in a bucket of water, hoping to find the evening star with the aid of his wife’s spectacles.”“I did not then,” said Padna. “But I met just as strange a man, and he sitting on his hat on the banks of the Fairy Lake of Lisnavarna, watching the moon’s reflection in the clear waters, and the devil a one of him knew that he was contrary at all.”“Sure if a man was contrary, he wouldn’t know it, and if he was told he was contrary, he wouldn’t believe it, but think that every one was contrary but himself,” said Micus. “And I believe the Lake at Lisnavarna has a fatal fascination for people who are as sensible as ourselves.’Twas there that Matty Morrissey, the great fiddler of Arnaliska, and the holy Bishop of Clonmorna met their doom.”“How?” said Padna.“They were driving in an open carriage along the lonely roads at the dead of night,” said Micus, “and no finer carriage was ever seen, with its two wheels behind and its two wheels before, and a special seat for the driver, and cushions fit for a duke to sit on, and the Arms of the Four Provinces painted on the doors, and—”“Where were they driving to?” said Padna.“They were driving at breakneck speed to the little thatched chapel on the Hill of Meath, with its marble altar, red-tiled floor, painted Stations of the Cross, and beautiful silver candlesticks, for the Bishop was in the devil of a hurry to marry Queen Maeve to the Crown Prince of Spain, and Matty Morrissey was to play the music for the dancers after the wedding. But, lo and behold! as the carriage rattled along the dark, winding roads, the holy Bishop, Matty, and the driver fell fast asleep, and the horse fell asleep also,but he was a somnambulist and kept galloping away the same as if he was wide-awake, and when he came to the lake, he plunged into its silent waters, carrying with him the occupants of the carriage, and they all sank to its icy depths the same as if they were made of lead, and they were never heard of from that fatal hour to this blessed day.”“And why didn’t some one try to recover their bodies and give them a public funeral and christian burial?” said Padna.“What would be the use? Sure there is no bottom at all to the Lake of Lisnavarna. And you might as well be looking for a Christmas box from the Devil himself as to be looking for any one who gets drowned there,” said Micus.“That’s a sad story,” said Padna. “But ’tis better to be drowned inself than roasted to death in a forest fire, or worse still, talked to death by your mother-in-law or some of your friends.”“Talk is a deadly instrument of torture,” said Micus.“’Tis indeed,” said Padna, “and sometimesas bad as silence, but tell me how the disaster affected Queen Maeve and the Crown Prince.”“Poor Queen Maeve wept so much that she lost her beauty, and the Crown Prince married a farmer’s daughter who had a dowry of three stockingsful of sovereigns, thirty-three acres of loamy soil, three cows, and three clucking hens,” said Micus.“’Tis a sad world for some,” said Padna. “And ’tis my belief that the best as well as the worst of us don’t give a traneen about women once they lose their beauty.”“That’s my belief also,” said Micus. “Yet only for women there would be no love, and love is the greatest thing in all the world. It is an echo of Heaven’s glory, so to speak, and when denied us we don’t live at all. Without love we are nothing more nor less than dead men, stalking about from place to place, clutching on to this thing and that thing with the hope that we will be compensated for what we have missed. For what, might I ask, is a dog or a cat or a heap of money itself to a man or woman, when the darknights come and the frost and snow does be on the ground, and the wind blows down the chimney? And even though we might have plenty faggots for the fire and plenty food in the cupboard, and more than we want for ourselves, what good is it all, unless we have some one to share it with us? ’Tis by sharing with others that we bring ourselves nearer to God. And He has given the earth and all it contains to the good and bad alike!”“And ’tis by sharing with ourselves and being decent to ourselves on all occasions that we acquire wisdom,” said Padna.“Be that as it may, now let me hear about the stranger you met at the Fairy Lake,” said Micus.“Well,” said Padna, “as I approached him I up and ses: ‘Good night, stranger,’ ses I.“‘Good night kindly,’ ses he.“‘’Tis a fine night, thank God,’ ses I.“‘’Tis a glorious night,’ ses he. ‘But why do you come here to interrupt me, and I enjoying myself without any expense to you?’“‘Oh,’ ses I, ‘if you didn’t interrupt somepeople, they would never cease doing foolish things, and if you didn’t interrupt others they would never make any progress. And if we never asked questions we might be as ignorant as the schoolmasters themselves. ’Tis only by studying others that we can find out how wise or foolish we are ourselves.’“‘That may be, but curiosity is the cause of all trouble,’ ses he.“‘Curiosity is a sign of intelligence,’ ses I. ‘Because only for it we mightn’t try and find out what others were doing, and they might steal a march on ourselves, so to speak, by taking advantage of our indifference.’“‘Howsomever,’ ses he, ‘what is it to you what I am doing? If we were only half as interested in our own affairs, as we are in those of others, ‘twould be a good job for us all. Then we might achieve some success, but while we will keep bothering ourselves about others and keep bothering others about ourselves, we can’t expect either ourselves or any one else to be happy,’ ses he.“‘Well, bedad,’ ses I, ‘there’s something, if not a good deal, in what you say; still and all, if we weren’t a source of annoyance to our neighbours, and if our neighbours weren’t a source of annoyance to us, we might all die of inanition, and the whole globe might become nothing more or less than a beautiful garden, for the wild animals of the jungle, the birds of the air, and varmints like rats, mice, and cockroaches,’ ses I.“‘Why, my good sir,’ ses he, ‘if you could have all your questions answered, you would become too wise, and then you would get so disgusted with yourself and every one else that you might take it into your head to jump from the top of some high cliff into a raging sea and end your life in that way.’“‘If I was going to commit suicide, at all,’ ses I, ‘’tis the way I’d pay some one to put poison in my ear while I would be asleep, and die like the King of Denmark himself.’“‘Your conceit is refreshing! Not alone would you have your name in the paper for being a suicide, but for aiding and abetting in your ownmurder as well. ‘Twould be a clear case of dying by another’s hand at your own instigation. But now to your query. You asked me what I was looking at in the lake.’“‘I believe I did,’ ses I.“‘Well,’ ses he, ‘I was looking at the lady in the moon.’“‘The lady in the moon!’ ses I.“‘Yes,’ ses he, ‘the lady in the moon.’“‘Sure, I always thought there was only a man in the moon,’ ses I.“‘There’s a lady there too, but don’t tell any one,’ ses he.“‘Are you afraid any one might run away with her?’ ses I.“‘Well, I am and I am not,’ ses he.“‘When did you discover that there was a lady in the moon?’ ses I.“‘Years and years ago when I was a young man of three sixes,’ ses he.“‘The Lord save us all!’ ses I. ‘And you never told the scientists about it?’“‘I did not,’ ses he. ‘They should have foundit out for themselves. There’s many a thing that the scientists don’t know, and many a thing that the clergy don’t know, and many a thing that the very wisest of us don’t know, but there is one thing that we all know,’ ses he.“‘And what is that?’ ses I.“‘Some day we will all be as dead as decency. But nevertheless it doesn’t make us treat each other a bit better,’ ses he.“‘The uncertainty of everything is the only certainty we have,’ ses I. ‘And very few of us say anything worth thinking about, and what most of us think is not worth talking about. However, I’d like to know whether the moon was in the east or the west when you discovered the lady that captured your heart.’“‘’Twas in this very lake the moon was when I saw my love for the first time, and though some fifty years or more have passed since then, she is as beautiful, lithe, lissome, and gay as ever, and she as elegant as Helen of Troy herself,’ ses he.“‘I’ve been looking at the moon all my lifetime,’ ses I, ‘in pools of water, lakes, rivers, andthe sky itself, and the devil a one I ever saw in it at all.’“‘That’s not a bit surprising,’ ses he. ‘Some walk from the cradle to the grave without noticing the beauty of the universe, and what’s more, they are never impressed with what’s extraordinary, or surprised at the obvious. And when they see the things they have heard so much about, they do be surprised at what they think is the stupidity of the intelligent people, because they have no sense of the beautiful themselves.’“‘God knows,’ ses I, ‘there are women enough on the face of the earth without going to look for them in the moon, nevertheless, I’d like to see the lady that’s as purty as Helen of Troy, and she more beautiful than all the queens of the world.’“‘Well,’ ses he, ‘if you want to see the lady of the moon, you must take a hop, step, and a jump forward, and a hop, step, and a jump, backward, then turn on your heel three times, bore a hole in the crown of your hat with the buckhorn handle of your blackthorn, put your face in the hat itself, look through the hole the way you’d look atthe stars through a telescope, and you’ll see the lady I fell head and heels in love with when I was a lad of three sixes.’“‘Bedad,’ ses I, ‘that would be a queer thing for me to do. Sure while I’d have my face in the hat, you might run behind me and give me one kick and pitch me headlong into the lake, and I’d be sinking in its icy waters for ever like Matty Morrissey the fiddler, and the holy Bishop of Clonmorna.’“‘God forgive you for having such an evil mind,’ ses he. ‘I that never did hurt nor harm to any one in all my born days, but myself.’“‘Well,’ ses I, ‘a man always makes a fool of himself about women, and he might as well make a fool of himself one way as another, and as I won’t be making a precedent by doing something idiotic to please another, I’ll bore a hole in my hat, though I’d rather bore one in yours, and try if I can’t see the lady.’ And as true as I’m telling you, I looked through the hole and saw the lady of the moon for the first time, and then I up and ses to the stranger:“‘What kind of a man are you to remain a bachelor all those long years, and to be coming here night after night, when the moon shows in the sky, wasting your affection on a lady you never opened your lips to?’ ses I.“‘I’m the happiest man alive,’ ses he. ‘Because the woman I love has never wounded or slighted me in any way, and what’s more, she never will. She don’t want to be going out to balls and parties at night, and gallivanting with other women’s husbands, and she cares as little about the latest fashions as I do myself. And we have never had as much as a single quarrel, and we are the same to each other now as when first we met. I have yet to be disillusioned,’ ses he, ‘and that’s something worth boasting about.’“‘But,’ ses I, ‘for all you know, the lady of the moon might be in love with the man in the moon.’“‘That’s so,’ ses he. ‘And maybe your wife might be in love with the man next door, or across the street, or some one away in the wildsof Africa, Australia, or America, or she may be in love with some one who’s dead and gone, or some good-looking stranger who came into her life for a day or a week and went out of it for ever. Women can keep their own secrets,’ ses he. ‘They don’t tell us all they think, and very often when they say no, they mean yes. You have a lot to learn,’ ses he.“‘Maybe I have,’ ses I. ‘But ’tis as bad for a man to know too much or too little, as to know nothing at all, I’m thinking.’“‘Maybe it is,’ ses he.“‘And when are you going to wed the lady in the moon? Is it when she comes down from the sky?’ ses I.“‘No,’ ses he, ‘but when she comes up from the lake.’ And then a large dark cloud floated past and the lady of the moon was seen no more that night.”“’Tis about time we went indoors,” said Padna.“’Tis,” said Micus. “The Angelus is ringing, and I’m feeling hungry.”A Bargain of BargainsA blue haze hung on the distant hills when Padna Dan looked pensively from the landscape to his watch, and said to his friend Micus Pat, who stood by his side: “The world is surely a wonderful and a beautiful place as well; but it would seem as though there were wings on the feet of time, so quickly does night follow day.”“Time is the barque that carries us from the cradle to the grave, and leaves us on the shores of the other world alone,” said Padna. “And as my poor mother used to say:Time, like youth, will have its fling,And of a beggar make a king;And of a king a beggar make,Merely for a joke’s sake.Time indeed brings many changes. Cromwell made peasants of the Irish gentry, and America made gentry of the Irish peasantry, and awful snobs some of them became too! But a whit for snobbery, for what is it but an adjunct of prosperity, like gout, which disappears again with adversity.”“Snobbery at best is a foolish thing,” said Micus.“But when we consider the unimportance of our own troubles, and the importance of the principal parts of the British Empire, such as Ireland, England, Scotland, Australia and T. P. O’Connor, our insignificance looms up before our gaze, and almost strikes us in the face, so to speak.”“And ’tis surprising it doesn’t obliterate us altogether,” said Padna. “However, let us forget Tay Pay O’Connor for a little while, as he will never do so himself, and I will tell you a story about one Cormac McShane from the townland of Ballinderry.”“On with the story; I am always glad to hear tell of some one worth talking about,” said Micus.“Well,” said Padna, “Cormac was as fine a looking man as ever broke his promises. And unless you had great astuteness of observation, and an eye like a hawk or a landlady, you wouldn’t see the likes of him in a twelvemonth, even though you might be gallivanting through the streets every day. And while nature treated him rather well, for the poor man he was, Dame Fortune seemed to have ignored him altogether, until he took his fate in his own hands, and then things began to improve. But to make a short story as long as I can, like the journalists and modern novelists, one day while Cormac was sitting in a barber’s chair, having his hair cut and trying to forget what the barber was talking about, a bright idea came to him as he caught a glimpse of himself in the looking-glass, and lo and behold! without saying a word, he jumped up and stood on his two feet, and the poor barber got so excited that he cut a piece off the top of his right ear. Cormac wasn’t the least displeased, because he always thought that his ears were too long, so then and there he told the barber to cut a piece about thesame length off his other ear, so that they would both look nice and even. And when his wishes were complied with, he thanked the barber, and then he up and ses to himself: ‘Cormac McShane,’ ses he, ‘I never before thought you were such a good-looking fellow. Sure the King of Spain or the Emperor of China would feel as proud as a peacock to have a countenance like yours. Yet,’ ses he, ‘isn’t it a strange thing that one so handsome, and modest likewise, and with such a splendid appetite, and a taste for good things in general, should be compelled by stress of circumstances to live on pigs’ heads, and tough cabbage, and no change at all in your dietary but salt conger eels on Fridays. Why,’ ses he, ‘a man with your appreciation should have plenty of the choice things of life, and never know the want of anything. What, might I ask,’ ses he, ‘has the world achieved by all the books that have been written, and all the charity sermons that have been preached, when you, Cormac McShane, couldn’t go from Cork to Dublin unless you borrowed the money, and it might be as hard for you toborrow it, as ‘twould be for yourself to lend it to another.’“That’s good sound talk,” said Micus. “Go on with the story, and don’t let any one interrupt you.”“‘Now,’ ses Cormac, ‘If every one in the whole world from Peru to Clonakilty would only give you a halfpenny each, and no one would miss such a trifle, you would be the richest man alive, and then you needn’t give a traneen about any one. But, of course,’ ses he, ‘that would be too much originality to expect from the bewildered inhabitants of the globe, moreover,’ ses he, ‘when we consider that the majority of people are always trying to get something for nothing, themselves.”“He had the temperament of a millionaire,” said Micus.“Indeed, he had, and the ingenuity of the tinkers, who would charge for putting a patch on a skillet where there was no hole at all,” said Padna. “‘However,’ ses Cormac to himself, ‘there’s nothing like money, no matter how it may have been earned, and every man should be hisown counsellor, because the little we know about each other only leads us into confusion and chaos. Now,’ ses he, ‘very few ever became wealthy by hard work alone, and you, Cormac McShane, must think of some scheme by which you can become rich, and all of a sudden too.’ And so he exercised his brains for about a month, and kept thinking and thinking, until finally he managed to capture an idea that he found straying among all the wild fancies that ever kept buzzing about in his head. And he was so pleased and delighted that he ses to himself: ‘Cormac,’ ses he, ‘there isn’t another man alive who could think of such a short cut to wealth, health, and happiness, and as a mark of my appreciation, I will now treat you to whatever you may want, provided, of course, that it won’t cost more than one shilling. A shilling is enough to spend on any one at a time, unless you are sure of getting two shillings, worth in return. And extravagance is nearly as bad as economy, when it isn’t used to advantage.’”“And what was the brilliant idea that inspiredsuch generosity?” said Micus. “Was it the way he made up his mind to dress himself as a duke, and go to America and marry some heiress who couldn’t tell a duke from a professional plausible humbug?”“It wasn’t anything as commonplace as that,” said Padna.“What was it then?” said Micus.“‘I’m going to raffle myself at a guinea a ticket,’ ses he. ‘And if I will sell five hundred, I will have enough to buy a small farm. That would give me a real start in life, and after I have what I want, discontent is possible.’ And then and there, he got his photo printed on a card, on which was written:‘A Bargain of BargainsTo be raffled, and drawn for, on St. Swithin’s eve, at the Black Cock Tavern, one Cormac McShane. He stands five feet six inches in his stocking vamps, black hair, blue eyes, an easy disposition, and no poor relations. A limited numberof tickets, to wit, five hundred, will be sold at one guinea each, to widows without children, of less than three score and five.’”“Well,” said Micus, “the devil be in it, but that was the most extraordinary way I ever heard of a man looking for a wife with a fortune. And why did he make the stipulation that only widows were eligible?”“Because widows are always less extravagant than single women, and they know how to humour a man better, when he has lost his temper.”“And how many tickets did he sell?” asked Micus.“Every single one, and he could have sold as many more, only he hadn’t them printed,” said Padna.“And that was how Cormac McShane got a wife, or how a wife got him, if you will?” said Micus.“Yes,” said Padna, “and while the money lasted, Cormac was the happiest man in the country.”“Now,” said Micus, “if Cormac McShane was a wise man, Garret Doran was another.”“How so?” said Padna. “Was it the way he always kept his mouth shut until he had something to say?”“Not exactly,” said Micus. “But he could do that too, when it pleased him. Garret was a miller, who kept a mill near the courthouse, so one day when the famous judge, Patcheen the Piper, as he was called, was sitting on the Bench, passing sentence on a batch of patriots who were to be hanged, drawn, and quartered, for no other offence than loving a country that never did anything for them better than they loved themselves, a great noise was heard, and the Judge was so annoyed at being disturbed that he stopped short in the middle of the death sentence and ses, at the top of his voice:“‘What hullaballoo is that I hear? And who dares make any noise at all, and interfere with my amusement?’ ses he. ‘If I will hear another sound, I’ll order every one within a radius of five miles to be boiled in turpentine, and sealedup in tin cans, and have them shipped to the King of the Cannibal Islands, as a Christmas box from the people of generous Ireland,’ ses he.“‘Oh,’ ses the Crown Solicitor, ‘that’s only Garret Doran’s mill grinding corn for the poor people.’“‘The poor people!’ ses the Judge in a rage. ‘Who the devil cares a traneen about the poor but the politicians when they want to get their votes, the kings and emperors when they want them to go to the wars, or the clergy when they are preaching charity sermons for the benefit of the inhabitants of Central Africa? And who will deny that those cannibals wouldn’t be better off if they were left alone? Nevertheless, ’tis only fair to state that they have just as much appreciation of decency and kindness as the best of ourselves. But be all that as it may, go and tell Garret Doran to stop his mill at once, and if he don’t obey your orders, bring him here before me, and I’ll order him to be hanged with these poor fools of patriots who have done less to annoy me than he has. And hanging patriots, if youhaven’t a conscience, is as good a way of making a living, as starving your employees to death, like some of the pious-faced rascals who have the impudence to invite myself to dine with them. Not indeed, that the likes of me wants a dinner or a meal of food from any one. The poor, who can’t afford a square meal more than once in the year, are never invited to partake of the hospitality of those who give dinners to those who don’t need them. But why should I bother about anything in a world like this, where everything is in such a hopeless state of confusion? Howsomever, a judge, like a lawyer, has to live down to the dignity of his profession, and unless he hangs a man now and again, the Government might think he had no interest in his job at all.“‘Of course,’ ses he, ‘when we think of the number of useless and troublesome people in the world and the few who find their way to the gallows, we should not worry about them, unless they might happen to be some relation of our own. The only time we really take an interest in other people’s troubles is when such troublesaffect ourselves. Nevertheless,’ ses he, ‘this is a rather lengthy digression, so be off with yourself at once to Garret Doran, and tell him his mill must be stopped this very instant.’“Well, the Crown Solicitor went to Garret and told him what the Judge had said, and Garret ordered the mill to be stopped, and the Judge received no further trouble from Garret or his mill while the trial lasted. And when the Assizes were over, the Judge went away, and he didn’t return again for five years. But when he was sitting on the Bench again for himself, passing sentence of death on more patriots, who should walk up to him but Garret himself, and he dressed in his Sunday clothes? And without as much as saying: ‘Good-morrow, how are you,’ or ‘Go to the devil inself,’ he up and hands him a large sealed envelope. And when Patcheen the Piper opened and read the note it contained, his face turned scarlet, and he jumped up from his throne of plush and gold trimmings, and ses: ‘What the blue blazes is the meaning of all this?’ ses he.“‘Don’t get excited, whatever you’ll do,’ sesGarret. ‘’Tis nothing more nor less than a bill for the expenses incurred by closing down my mill at your instigation some five years ago.’“For a while the Judge said nothing at all, but kept looking hard at Garret, and then all of a sudden ses he: ‘Why, in the name of all the descendants of Julius Cæsar and Brian Boru in America, didn’t you start the mill going after I left the city?’“‘You never told me to do so,’ ses Garret. ‘And if I did start it without your permission, I might have been sent to gaol for five hundred years or more.’“‘Well,’ ses the Judge, ‘I’m sorry I can’t send you to a warmer place than gaol to punish you for fooling me in such a successful manner. Why, man alive,’ ses he, ‘your conduct is preposterous; in fact, ’tis worse, because ’tis ridiculous as well.’“‘’Tis the incongruity of things that makes a living for most of us,’ ses Garret. ‘And only a fool would get angry about anything. Anyway,’ ses he, ‘I don’t care a traneen what happens to you, so long as I will get what is coming to me.’“‘Bedad,’ ses the Judge, ‘in spite of all our old talk, that seems to be the beginning and end of human ambition. We all like to get as much as we can for nothing, and give as little as possible in return.’“But to finish my story, the case was taken from the high courts to the low courts, and from the low courts back again to the high courts, and between the jigs and the reels, so to speak, Garret got his money, and Patcheen the Piper never asked any one to stop a mill again.”“That’s the devil’s own queer yarn,” said Padna. “If we all had to wait until we were told what to do, we wouldn’t do anything at all.”“We wouldn’t,” agreed Micus.

Kings and Commoners“Well,” said Padna, as he rested his elbows on the parapet of Blackrock Castle, and watched the river Lee winding its way towards the ocean, “when I look upon a scene so charming as this, with its matchless beauty, I feel that I am not myself at all, but some mediæval king or other, surveying my dominions, and waiting for the sound of the hunter’s horn to wake me from my revery. If at the present moment, an army of chivalrous archers, with white plumes in their green hats and bows and arrows slung on their shoulders and Robin Hood himself at their head, were to march from out the woods at Glountawn, I wouldn’t utter the least note of surprise or exclamation. No, Micus, not a single word would I say, even though they might lay a herd of slaughtered deer at my feet, and pin a falcon’swing on my breast; so much do I feel a part of the good old days when there was no duty on tobacco and whiskey.”“Sometimes,” said Micus, “I too feel that I own the whole countryside, and in a sense I do. Because I can get as much pleasure from looking at it, and admiring all its dazzling splendour, as if I had the trouble of keeping it in order and paying rates and taxes. And after all, what does any of us want but the world to look at, enough to eat and drink, and a little diversion when we feel like it?”“A man with imagination and insight,” said Padna, “need never want for entertainment, because he can always appreciate and enjoy the folly of others, without having to pay for it. But be that as it may, ’tis more satisfying still to have a love of nature and all that’s beautiful, and a healthy distaste for all that’s coarse and ugly.”“The world is made up of all kinds of people, who want to enjoy themselves in some way or other,” said Micus, “and the spirit of destruction is the Devil’s contribution to human happiness.Why, man alive, you could drown the whole German Army, and the Kaiser and all his henchmen, in the depths of beautiful Lough Mahon that stretches before us, and the French wouldn’t feel the least sorry. And you could drown the whole French Army and General Joffre, and the Germans wouldn’t feel sorry. And you could drown Sir Blunderbluff Carson, and John Redmond wouldn’t feel sorry, and you could drown the Russian, French, English and German armies, and the socialists wouldn’t be sorry, and you could drown all the socialists and the Salvation Army, and the Devil wouldn’t be sorry.”“All the same,” said Padna, “’twould be a pity to wound the dignity of the Kaiser by drowning him in a comparatively small and shallow place like Lough Mahon when he could be drowned just as comfortably and easily in the middle of the Atlantic or Pacific Ocean,—or the Dardanelles, for that matter. And as for all the trouble ‘twould give the Russians, you could tie him by the heels to a clothesline in your back yard, the way they tied the tails of the Kilkenny cats, anddip his head in a bucket of goat’s milk mixed with gunpowder, and let him drown that way.”“There’s good and bad in the worst of us,” said Micus, “and I am sure the Allies would be sorry to have him drowned at all, when he could be given, for his own private use and benefit, a superabundance of everlasting peace tokens, such as they give the poor devils in the trenches.”“Free samples of poisonous gas, you mean, I presume,” said Padna.“Yes,” said Micus. “However, ’tisn’t for the likes of us to be discussing the ways of mighty monarchs when we are only poor men ourselves.”“Hard work,” said Padna, “never killed the gentry.”“No,” said Micus, “nor decency either, and if they were to eat twice as much, ‘twouldn’t make them any better.”“When you come to think about it,” said Padna, “’tis the hell of a thing why a man should have to work for himself, or have to work at all.”“Indeed it is, and I always lose my temperwhen I think of the poor men and women, too, who must get up when it is only time to be going to bed, and work until they fall on the floor from sheer exhaustion and no one to care or bother about them. Sure, there must be something wrong, if that sort of thing is right, and the gentry should be ashamed of themselves for making such conditions possible and they doing nothing but spending money that they never earned, and making laws for the poor.”“’Tis disgusting,” said Micus, “to think that we should have to work for any one, even though they might be the Prince of Wales, or the Duke of the North Pole himself.”“I can’t see for the life of me,” said Padna, “why we couldn’t make our living as easy as the birds of the air, the fish of the sea, the insects of the field, or the policemen. Sure, when you come to think of it, a king is no more than any other man, only for all the fuss that does be made about him. And I don’t see why one man should be thought better than another when he isn’t. Only for the fine clothes that some of us wear,no one would take the least notice of us, and if you were to put a dead king and a dead duke, and yourself and myself beside each other, Micus, on the top of the Galtee Mountains, and exposed our carcasses to the rains and the snow, not to mention the southwesterly gales, for three months, when the experts would come along to identify us, ’tis the way they would think that you were the duke and I was the king, and the duke was no one but yourself, and who could the king be but myself.”“And maybe ’tis the way that they would think that you were only the duke, and that myself was the king,” said Padna.“’Tis true, of course, that a king is no more than one of ourselves when he is dead, but there is no doubt about him being a good deal more when he is alive. Nevertheless, it would be a proud thing for the Padna Dan family to have one of their kinsmen buried with the pomp and ceremony of a mighty monarch, and they never to produce anything more than birdcatchers and bowl players. Yes, Padna, ‘twould be a greatthing entirely, and ye that always lived in a house that you could put your hand down the chimney and open the front door, if you forgot your latch-key. The mistake would never be discovered till the Judgment Day, and then you’d rise from your grave, glorious and triumphant with a crown of shiny jewels on your head, and a royal sceptre in your hand, and a robe of state that would cover you all over, and you looking as happy and contented as though you were used to wearing overcoats all your lifetime.”“And what about yourself, Micus,” said Padna, “and you with a red cap on your head, like the dukes wear on state occasions, and a snowball in one hand and a bear’s claw in the other, the way the people would think you were the Duke of the North Pole and not yourself at all?”“All the same,” said Micus, “I’d rather be a duke at any time than have to work for a living.”“So would I,” said Padna. “And in that sense, we only echo the true sentiments of every democrat.Yet, when I was a young man, I never bothered my head about royalty, but I was as full of wild fancies as a balloon is of wind. And there wasn’t one from the Old Head of Kinsale to the Giants’ Causeway more headstrong and intolerant than myself.”“I believe every word of that,” said Micus.“Like other temperamental and idealistic people, I naturally felt very disappointed and likewise disgusted with the existing order of things, and there and then I ses to myself: ‘Padna Dan,’ ses I, ‘the world is in a wretched condition and badly wants a great reformer.’ So with that I appointed myself mediator between good and evil, and indeed, at first I thought it would be possible to form some kind of compromise between those two giant forces that have kept the world in awe ever since Adam was a boy. But subsequently I decided that the best and only thing to do would be to rid the world of evil altogether.”“And how could that be done at all?” said Micus.“Well, as I was filled with the enthusiasm and ignorance of youth, I tried to make up my mind whether I would follow in the footsteps of Savonarola, St. Francis, or St. Patrick himself, but when I thought of what happened to Savonarola, and after all these years we don’t know whether St. Patrick was a Scotchman or an Irishman, but principally when I took into consideration my own strong sense of personal comfort, and my insignificance withal, when compared to greater men who have suffered so much and accomplished so little, I finally decided to leave the regeneration of mankind to the suffragettes or some one else.”“You’re a philosopher,” said Micus, “but I’m afraid that you will accomplish no more for humanity with your old talk, than a patent medicine advertisement or the police themselves. Sure, every young man with a spark of decency in him must have felt as generous as yourself at some time or other in his life. If we could all reform ourselves before trying to reform others, then there would be some hope for mankind, but generous impulses such as yours, Padna Dan,are only produced by the assimilation of black coffee or strong tea, or else an innate conceit. When the Lord made the world, he must have known the kind of people he was going to put there. Hence, Padna, the superabundance of people like yourself to be met with everywhere.”“Well,” said Padna, “whether we mean what we say or not, we must keep talking. Sure, ’tis talk that keeps the world going, and if we are not dead in a hundred years, we will be very near it, so it behooves us one and all to enjoy ourselves while we are here, lest it may be unwise to postpone our pleasure until we arrive in the other world.”“This world,” said Micus, “in a sense, is good enough for me, and I wouldn’t object to living on here for ever, if I could, instead of taking a chance with what’s to follow.”“Life is a game of ups and downs, and love very often is an accident. If we did not meet our wives, we never would have married them, of course. And if our wives did not meet us, they might have met some one better. And happy indeed is theman who marries the woman he loves before she marries some one else.”“’Tis sad to think,” said Padna, “that when we get sensible enough to appreciate our own folly, the beauties of nature, and the idiosyncracies of our friends and enemies, we find ourselves on the brink of the grave. Yet, we might all be worse off and treated no better than the poor prisoners of Sarduanna.”“We are all prisoners, in a sense, from the very minute we are born, and we may be prisoners after we are dead too, for all any of us know,” said Micus.“That may be,” said Padna, “but nevertheless, some of us know how to treat ourselves better than the authorities treat the prisoners of Sarduanna.”“And how are they treated at all? Is it the way they get too much to eat and not enough of work, or too much work and not enough to eat?”“’Tisn’t so much one as the other, but something worse than either. They get nothing toeat but pickled pork from one end of the year to the other,” said Padna.“And what do they get to quench their thirst?” said Micus.“Salt fish,” said Padna.

Kings and Commoners

“Well,” said Padna, as he rested his elbows on the parapet of Blackrock Castle, and watched the river Lee winding its way towards the ocean, “when I look upon a scene so charming as this, with its matchless beauty, I feel that I am not myself at all, but some mediæval king or other, surveying my dominions, and waiting for the sound of the hunter’s horn to wake me from my revery. If at the present moment, an army of chivalrous archers, with white plumes in their green hats and bows and arrows slung on their shoulders and Robin Hood himself at their head, were to march from out the woods at Glountawn, I wouldn’t utter the least note of surprise or exclamation. No, Micus, not a single word would I say, even though they might lay a herd of slaughtered deer at my feet, and pin a falcon’swing on my breast; so much do I feel a part of the good old days when there was no duty on tobacco and whiskey.”“Sometimes,” said Micus, “I too feel that I own the whole countryside, and in a sense I do. Because I can get as much pleasure from looking at it, and admiring all its dazzling splendour, as if I had the trouble of keeping it in order and paying rates and taxes. And after all, what does any of us want but the world to look at, enough to eat and drink, and a little diversion when we feel like it?”“A man with imagination and insight,” said Padna, “need never want for entertainment, because he can always appreciate and enjoy the folly of others, without having to pay for it. But be that as it may, ’tis more satisfying still to have a love of nature and all that’s beautiful, and a healthy distaste for all that’s coarse and ugly.”“The world is made up of all kinds of people, who want to enjoy themselves in some way or other,” said Micus, “and the spirit of destruction is the Devil’s contribution to human happiness.Why, man alive, you could drown the whole German Army, and the Kaiser and all his henchmen, in the depths of beautiful Lough Mahon that stretches before us, and the French wouldn’t feel the least sorry. And you could drown the whole French Army and General Joffre, and the Germans wouldn’t feel sorry. And you could drown Sir Blunderbluff Carson, and John Redmond wouldn’t feel sorry, and you could drown the Russian, French, English and German armies, and the socialists wouldn’t be sorry, and you could drown all the socialists and the Salvation Army, and the Devil wouldn’t be sorry.”“All the same,” said Padna, “’twould be a pity to wound the dignity of the Kaiser by drowning him in a comparatively small and shallow place like Lough Mahon when he could be drowned just as comfortably and easily in the middle of the Atlantic or Pacific Ocean,—or the Dardanelles, for that matter. And as for all the trouble ‘twould give the Russians, you could tie him by the heels to a clothesline in your back yard, the way they tied the tails of the Kilkenny cats, anddip his head in a bucket of goat’s milk mixed with gunpowder, and let him drown that way.”“There’s good and bad in the worst of us,” said Micus, “and I am sure the Allies would be sorry to have him drowned at all, when he could be given, for his own private use and benefit, a superabundance of everlasting peace tokens, such as they give the poor devils in the trenches.”“Free samples of poisonous gas, you mean, I presume,” said Padna.“Yes,” said Micus. “However, ’tisn’t for the likes of us to be discussing the ways of mighty monarchs when we are only poor men ourselves.”“Hard work,” said Padna, “never killed the gentry.”“No,” said Micus, “nor decency either, and if they were to eat twice as much, ‘twouldn’t make them any better.”“When you come to think about it,” said Padna, “’tis the hell of a thing why a man should have to work for himself, or have to work at all.”“Indeed it is, and I always lose my temperwhen I think of the poor men and women, too, who must get up when it is only time to be going to bed, and work until they fall on the floor from sheer exhaustion and no one to care or bother about them. Sure, there must be something wrong, if that sort of thing is right, and the gentry should be ashamed of themselves for making such conditions possible and they doing nothing but spending money that they never earned, and making laws for the poor.”“’Tis disgusting,” said Micus, “to think that we should have to work for any one, even though they might be the Prince of Wales, or the Duke of the North Pole himself.”“I can’t see for the life of me,” said Padna, “why we couldn’t make our living as easy as the birds of the air, the fish of the sea, the insects of the field, or the policemen. Sure, when you come to think of it, a king is no more than any other man, only for all the fuss that does be made about him. And I don’t see why one man should be thought better than another when he isn’t. Only for the fine clothes that some of us wear,no one would take the least notice of us, and if you were to put a dead king and a dead duke, and yourself and myself beside each other, Micus, on the top of the Galtee Mountains, and exposed our carcasses to the rains and the snow, not to mention the southwesterly gales, for three months, when the experts would come along to identify us, ’tis the way they would think that you were the duke and I was the king, and the duke was no one but yourself, and who could the king be but myself.”“And maybe ’tis the way that they would think that you were only the duke, and that myself was the king,” said Padna.“’Tis true, of course, that a king is no more than one of ourselves when he is dead, but there is no doubt about him being a good deal more when he is alive. Nevertheless, it would be a proud thing for the Padna Dan family to have one of their kinsmen buried with the pomp and ceremony of a mighty monarch, and they never to produce anything more than birdcatchers and bowl players. Yes, Padna, ‘twould be a greatthing entirely, and ye that always lived in a house that you could put your hand down the chimney and open the front door, if you forgot your latch-key. The mistake would never be discovered till the Judgment Day, and then you’d rise from your grave, glorious and triumphant with a crown of shiny jewels on your head, and a royal sceptre in your hand, and a robe of state that would cover you all over, and you looking as happy and contented as though you were used to wearing overcoats all your lifetime.”“And what about yourself, Micus,” said Padna, “and you with a red cap on your head, like the dukes wear on state occasions, and a snowball in one hand and a bear’s claw in the other, the way the people would think you were the Duke of the North Pole and not yourself at all?”“All the same,” said Micus, “I’d rather be a duke at any time than have to work for a living.”“So would I,” said Padna. “And in that sense, we only echo the true sentiments of every democrat.Yet, when I was a young man, I never bothered my head about royalty, but I was as full of wild fancies as a balloon is of wind. And there wasn’t one from the Old Head of Kinsale to the Giants’ Causeway more headstrong and intolerant than myself.”“I believe every word of that,” said Micus.“Like other temperamental and idealistic people, I naturally felt very disappointed and likewise disgusted with the existing order of things, and there and then I ses to myself: ‘Padna Dan,’ ses I, ‘the world is in a wretched condition and badly wants a great reformer.’ So with that I appointed myself mediator between good and evil, and indeed, at first I thought it would be possible to form some kind of compromise between those two giant forces that have kept the world in awe ever since Adam was a boy. But subsequently I decided that the best and only thing to do would be to rid the world of evil altogether.”“And how could that be done at all?” said Micus.“Well, as I was filled with the enthusiasm and ignorance of youth, I tried to make up my mind whether I would follow in the footsteps of Savonarola, St. Francis, or St. Patrick himself, but when I thought of what happened to Savonarola, and after all these years we don’t know whether St. Patrick was a Scotchman or an Irishman, but principally when I took into consideration my own strong sense of personal comfort, and my insignificance withal, when compared to greater men who have suffered so much and accomplished so little, I finally decided to leave the regeneration of mankind to the suffragettes or some one else.”“You’re a philosopher,” said Micus, “but I’m afraid that you will accomplish no more for humanity with your old talk, than a patent medicine advertisement or the police themselves. Sure, every young man with a spark of decency in him must have felt as generous as yourself at some time or other in his life. If we could all reform ourselves before trying to reform others, then there would be some hope for mankind, but generous impulses such as yours, Padna Dan,are only produced by the assimilation of black coffee or strong tea, or else an innate conceit. When the Lord made the world, he must have known the kind of people he was going to put there. Hence, Padna, the superabundance of people like yourself to be met with everywhere.”“Well,” said Padna, “whether we mean what we say or not, we must keep talking. Sure, ’tis talk that keeps the world going, and if we are not dead in a hundred years, we will be very near it, so it behooves us one and all to enjoy ourselves while we are here, lest it may be unwise to postpone our pleasure until we arrive in the other world.”“This world,” said Micus, “in a sense, is good enough for me, and I wouldn’t object to living on here for ever, if I could, instead of taking a chance with what’s to follow.”“Life is a game of ups and downs, and love very often is an accident. If we did not meet our wives, we never would have married them, of course. And if our wives did not meet us, they might have met some one better. And happy indeed is theman who marries the woman he loves before she marries some one else.”“’Tis sad to think,” said Padna, “that when we get sensible enough to appreciate our own folly, the beauties of nature, and the idiosyncracies of our friends and enemies, we find ourselves on the brink of the grave. Yet, we might all be worse off and treated no better than the poor prisoners of Sarduanna.”“We are all prisoners, in a sense, from the very minute we are born, and we may be prisoners after we are dead too, for all any of us know,” said Micus.“That may be,” said Padna, “but nevertheless, some of us know how to treat ourselves better than the authorities treat the prisoners of Sarduanna.”“And how are they treated at all? Is it the way they get too much to eat and not enough of work, or too much work and not enough to eat?”“’Tisn’t so much one as the other, but something worse than either. They get nothing toeat but pickled pork from one end of the year to the other,” said Padna.“And what do they get to quench their thirst?” said Micus.“Salt fish,” said Padna.

“Well,” said Padna, as he rested his elbows on the parapet of Blackrock Castle, and watched the river Lee winding its way towards the ocean, “when I look upon a scene so charming as this, with its matchless beauty, I feel that I am not myself at all, but some mediæval king or other, surveying my dominions, and waiting for the sound of the hunter’s horn to wake me from my revery. If at the present moment, an army of chivalrous archers, with white plumes in their green hats and bows and arrows slung on their shoulders and Robin Hood himself at their head, were to march from out the woods at Glountawn, I wouldn’t utter the least note of surprise or exclamation. No, Micus, not a single word would I say, even though they might lay a herd of slaughtered deer at my feet, and pin a falcon’swing on my breast; so much do I feel a part of the good old days when there was no duty on tobacco and whiskey.”

“Sometimes,” said Micus, “I too feel that I own the whole countryside, and in a sense I do. Because I can get as much pleasure from looking at it, and admiring all its dazzling splendour, as if I had the trouble of keeping it in order and paying rates and taxes. And after all, what does any of us want but the world to look at, enough to eat and drink, and a little diversion when we feel like it?”

“A man with imagination and insight,” said Padna, “need never want for entertainment, because he can always appreciate and enjoy the folly of others, without having to pay for it. But be that as it may, ’tis more satisfying still to have a love of nature and all that’s beautiful, and a healthy distaste for all that’s coarse and ugly.”

“The world is made up of all kinds of people, who want to enjoy themselves in some way or other,” said Micus, “and the spirit of destruction is the Devil’s contribution to human happiness.Why, man alive, you could drown the whole German Army, and the Kaiser and all his henchmen, in the depths of beautiful Lough Mahon that stretches before us, and the French wouldn’t feel the least sorry. And you could drown the whole French Army and General Joffre, and the Germans wouldn’t feel sorry. And you could drown Sir Blunderbluff Carson, and John Redmond wouldn’t feel sorry, and you could drown the Russian, French, English and German armies, and the socialists wouldn’t be sorry, and you could drown all the socialists and the Salvation Army, and the Devil wouldn’t be sorry.”

“All the same,” said Padna, “’twould be a pity to wound the dignity of the Kaiser by drowning him in a comparatively small and shallow place like Lough Mahon when he could be drowned just as comfortably and easily in the middle of the Atlantic or Pacific Ocean,—or the Dardanelles, for that matter. And as for all the trouble ‘twould give the Russians, you could tie him by the heels to a clothesline in your back yard, the way they tied the tails of the Kilkenny cats, anddip his head in a bucket of goat’s milk mixed with gunpowder, and let him drown that way.”

“There’s good and bad in the worst of us,” said Micus, “and I am sure the Allies would be sorry to have him drowned at all, when he could be given, for his own private use and benefit, a superabundance of everlasting peace tokens, such as they give the poor devils in the trenches.”

“Free samples of poisonous gas, you mean, I presume,” said Padna.

“Yes,” said Micus. “However, ’tisn’t for the likes of us to be discussing the ways of mighty monarchs when we are only poor men ourselves.”

“Hard work,” said Padna, “never killed the gentry.”

“No,” said Micus, “nor decency either, and if they were to eat twice as much, ‘twouldn’t make them any better.”

“When you come to think about it,” said Padna, “’tis the hell of a thing why a man should have to work for himself, or have to work at all.”

“Indeed it is, and I always lose my temperwhen I think of the poor men and women, too, who must get up when it is only time to be going to bed, and work until they fall on the floor from sheer exhaustion and no one to care or bother about them. Sure, there must be something wrong, if that sort of thing is right, and the gentry should be ashamed of themselves for making such conditions possible and they doing nothing but spending money that they never earned, and making laws for the poor.”

“’Tis disgusting,” said Micus, “to think that we should have to work for any one, even though they might be the Prince of Wales, or the Duke of the North Pole himself.”

“I can’t see for the life of me,” said Padna, “why we couldn’t make our living as easy as the birds of the air, the fish of the sea, the insects of the field, or the policemen. Sure, when you come to think of it, a king is no more than any other man, only for all the fuss that does be made about him. And I don’t see why one man should be thought better than another when he isn’t. Only for the fine clothes that some of us wear,no one would take the least notice of us, and if you were to put a dead king and a dead duke, and yourself and myself beside each other, Micus, on the top of the Galtee Mountains, and exposed our carcasses to the rains and the snow, not to mention the southwesterly gales, for three months, when the experts would come along to identify us, ’tis the way they would think that you were the duke and I was the king, and the duke was no one but yourself, and who could the king be but myself.”

“And maybe ’tis the way that they would think that you were only the duke, and that myself was the king,” said Padna.

“’Tis true, of course, that a king is no more than one of ourselves when he is dead, but there is no doubt about him being a good deal more when he is alive. Nevertheless, it would be a proud thing for the Padna Dan family to have one of their kinsmen buried with the pomp and ceremony of a mighty monarch, and they never to produce anything more than birdcatchers and bowl players. Yes, Padna, ‘twould be a greatthing entirely, and ye that always lived in a house that you could put your hand down the chimney and open the front door, if you forgot your latch-key. The mistake would never be discovered till the Judgment Day, and then you’d rise from your grave, glorious and triumphant with a crown of shiny jewels on your head, and a royal sceptre in your hand, and a robe of state that would cover you all over, and you looking as happy and contented as though you were used to wearing overcoats all your lifetime.”

“And what about yourself, Micus,” said Padna, “and you with a red cap on your head, like the dukes wear on state occasions, and a snowball in one hand and a bear’s claw in the other, the way the people would think you were the Duke of the North Pole and not yourself at all?”

“All the same,” said Micus, “I’d rather be a duke at any time than have to work for a living.”

“So would I,” said Padna. “And in that sense, we only echo the true sentiments of every democrat.Yet, when I was a young man, I never bothered my head about royalty, but I was as full of wild fancies as a balloon is of wind. And there wasn’t one from the Old Head of Kinsale to the Giants’ Causeway more headstrong and intolerant than myself.”

“I believe every word of that,” said Micus.

“Like other temperamental and idealistic people, I naturally felt very disappointed and likewise disgusted with the existing order of things, and there and then I ses to myself: ‘Padna Dan,’ ses I, ‘the world is in a wretched condition and badly wants a great reformer.’ So with that I appointed myself mediator between good and evil, and indeed, at first I thought it would be possible to form some kind of compromise between those two giant forces that have kept the world in awe ever since Adam was a boy. But subsequently I decided that the best and only thing to do would be to rid the world of evil altogether.”

“And how could that be done at all?” said Micus.

“Well, as I was filled with the enthusiasm and ignorance of youth, I tried to make up my mind whether I would follow in the footsteps of Savonarola, St. Francis, or St. Patrick himself, but when I thought of what happened to Savonarola, and after all these years we don’t know whether St. Patrick was a Scotchman or an Irishman, but principally when I took into consideration my own strong sense of personal comfort, and my insignificance withal, when compared to greater men who have suffered so much and accomplished so little, I finally decided to leave the regeneration of mankind to the suffragettes or some one else.”

“You’re a philosopher,” said Micus, “but I’m afraid that you will accomplish no more for humanity with your old talk, than a patent medicine advertisement or the police themselves. Sure, every young man with a spark of decency in him must have felt as generous as yourself at some time or other in his life. If we could all reform ourselves before trying to reform others, then there would be some hope for mankind, but generous impulses such as yours, Padna Dan,are only produced by the assimilation of black coffee or strong tea, or else an innate conceit. When the Lord made the world, he must have known the kind of people he was going to put there. Hence, Padna, the superabundance of people like yourself to be met with everywhere.”

“Well,” said Padna, “whether we mean what we say or not, we must keep talking. Sure, ’tis talk that keeps the world going, and if we are not dead in a hundred years, we will be very near it, so it behooves us one and all to enjoy ourselves while we are here, lest it may be unwise to postpone our pleasure until we arrive in the other world.”

“This world,” said Micus, “in a sense, is good enough for me, and I wouldn’t object to living on here for ever, if I could, instead of taking a chance with what’s to follow.”

“Life is a game of ups and downs, and love very often is an accident. If we did not meet our wives, we never would have married them, of course. And if our wives did not meet us, they might have met some one better. And happy indeed is theman who marries the woman he loves before she marries some one else.”

“’Tis sad to think,” said Padna, “that when we get sensible enough to appreciate our own folly, the beauties of nature, and the idiosyncracies of our friends and enemies, we find ourselves on the brink of the grave. Yet, we might all be worse off and treated no better than the poor prisoners of Sarduanna.”

“We are all prisoners, in a sense, from the very minute we are born, and we may be prisoners after we are dead too, for all any of us know,” said Micus.

“That may be,” said Padna, “but nevertheless, some of us know how to treat ourselves better than the authorities treat the prisoners of Sarduanna.”

“And how are they treated at all? Is it the way they get too much to eat and not enough of work, or too much work and not enough to eat?”

“’Tisn’t so much one as the other, but something worse than either. They get nothing toeat but pickled pork from one end of the year to the other,” said Padna.

“And what do they get to quench their thirst?” said Micus.

“Salt fish,” said Padna.

The Folly of Being Foolish“What are you doing there?” said Padna Dan to Micus Pat, as he watched him sifting sand between his fingers as he stood on the shore of Bantry Bay.“I’m doing what nobody ever thought of doing before and what no one may ever think of doing again,” said Micus. “I’m counting the pebbles of Bantry Bay from Dunboy to Glengarriffe. And that’s more than Napoleon thought of doing.”“And why should you be doing the likes of that?” said Padna.“Well,” said Micus, “when they’re all counted, I’ll know more than before and be as famous as the King of Spain himself.”“You might as well be trying to count all the blades of grass from Dunkirk to Belgrade, but you’d be dead and forgotten long before you’d have as much as the ten thousandth part of half of them counted,” said Padna.“What do you know about counting pebbles or the red skeeories that does be on the white thorn-bushes in the month of August?” said Micus.“As much as any sensible man wants to know,” said Padna. “If you want to be really foolish, you ought to leave the pebbles alone, and start counting all the grains of sand in the world.”“I’ll count the pebbles first,” said Micus.“’Tis only vanity that makes a man do what every one else is too sensible to do,” said Padna. “But ’tis better to be foolish itself and get married than to be so vain that you don’t know you’re foolish.”“And why should I get married?” said Micus.“Well,” said Padna, “a man’s wife is always a great comfort to him when he wants to get fed, when he’s sick in bed and requires nursing, or when he’s too well off and suffers from discontent.Besides, ’tis a great thing to have a wife to quarrel with when you’re afraid of quarreling with any one else.”“And why should I quarrel with my wife without reason if I had one?”“Abuse, you know, is the great safety valve that keeps the world from exploding, and if you won’t abuse your wife, she’ll abuse you,” said Padna, “and isn’t it better to be first than last in anything?”“I don’t think so,” said Micus. “I’d rather be the last than the first man to meet a widow looking for a husband.”“And why?” said Padna.“There’s no escape from widows,” said Micus, “whatever accidents might happen with inexperienced young women.”“There’s something in what you say,” said Padna. “Perseverance, pugnacity, and stupidity are necessary for success if you aren’t cursed with intelligence and good breeding. And you can get any young woman without money to marry you against her will, but if you’re wise enough youwon’t. I need not tell you that lovers are only sensible when they commence wondering at the foolishness of their own children.”“A man thinking about getting married should have two women to choose from.”“And why, might I ask?”“Well, because if he lost one he could have the other, and if he lost both he would know what it is to be lucky. Marriage, you know, always makes one master and two slaves.”“’Tis too bad that there should be any slaves.”“It is, but while men will marry for love, and women for money, we cannot expect a change in our social conditions.”“There will be no change in the world while men suffering from indigestion will marry cooks.”“That’s a wise thing for a sensible man to do. A cranky and delicate man should marry a nurse, a man always out of employment should marry a dressmaker, and a man fond of quietness and reading should live with a married sister, if she has no children.”“Wisha, after all’s said and done, there’snothing worse nor better than being a bachelor, as the case may be. ’Tis better to be a bachelor, I’m thinking, for you may go to your grave without being disillusioned. But when a man’s dead, it doesn’t matter whether he was married or not, or shot by an ivory-handled revolver or died from rheumatics.”“A man suffering from rheumatics should be mindful of the westerly gales, and the frosts of winter, and keep from eating salty beef and tomatoes. I think a rheumaticky man should get married, but should not marry a woman with a tendency to gout. And ’tis always well to marry an orphan because there’s nothing worse than mothers-in-law, except sisters-in-law, and they’re the devil entirely.”“To change the subject,” said Micus, “I don’t think it is fair to catch lobsters at night. No one wants to be disturbed in their sleep.”“If you look at things like that,” said Padna, “you’ll never be happy, and though it isn’t easy to please myself, I think ’tis a grand thing entirely that all caterpillars are vegetarians.”“I don’t think we should waste time talking about caterpillars. They never do anything but eat cabbage and cause gardeners to use bad language. Of course, the history of a buffalo or a butterfly is a wonderful thing, but if elephants were to grow wings we wouldn’t take any notice of canaries, bees, or water hens,” said Micus.“I’d give a lot of money to see a flock of elephants flying over the Rock of Cashel,” said Padna.“That would be a great thing for the newspapers and the moving pictures, though perhaps a dangerous thing for people of a nervous disposition,” said Micus.“And ‘twould be the devil of a thing entirely if they forgot to fly.”“Nervousness is a curse or a blessing, according to the individual, of course. The evil that some men do lives after them, and the good does be interred with their bones.”“That’s true, but when men do neither good nor harm they might as well keep out of politicsaltogether. No man is as wise or as foolish as he thinks he is, and if you were to capture all the stray thoughts that does be floating about in your head and put them down in writing, you’d be the greatest curiosity that ever was.”“When a man loses a button,” said Micus, “he should immediately sew it on for himself, if he couldn’t get any one to do it for him.”“Selfishness is the basis of success,” said Padna.“To give away what you don’t want is wisdom without generosity, and to keep what is of no use to you is the worst kind of folly.”“Fighting is a natural instinct, and to fight for what’s yours, be it honor or property, is a noble thing, but to fight for what doesn’t belong to you is both dangerous and foolish.”“That’s so indeed. I saw two crows fighting for a crust of bread that a child dropped in the street, and they didn’t cease until both had their eyes picked out.”“And who got the crust?”“A sparrow who came along while they were fighting, and devoured it.”“Then the crows without knowing it became philanthropists.”“Well, ’tis better to make mistakes if some one benefits by them than to make no mistakes at all. I think I’ll go on counting the pebbles and leave you to find a philosophy for yourself,” said Micus.“Well,” said Padna, “when a man can content himself by being foolish, ’tis only a fool that would be a philosopher.”

The Folly of Being Foolish

“What are you doing there?” said Padna Dan to Micus Pat, as he watched him sifting sand between his fingers as he stood on the shore of Bantry Bay.“I’m doing what nobody ever thought of doing before and what no one may ever think of doing again,” said Micus. “I’m counting the pebbles of Bantry Bay from Dunboy to Glengarriffe. And that’s more than Napoleon thought of doing.”“And why should you be doing the likes of that?” said Padna.“Well,” said Micus, “when they’re all counted, I’ll know more than before and be as famous as the King of Spain himself.”“You might as well be trying to count all the blades of grass from Dunkirk to Belgrade, but you’d be dead and forgotten long before you’d have as much as the ten thousandth part of half of them counted,” said Padna.“What do you know about counting pebbles or the red skeeories that does be on the white thorn-bushes in the month of August?” said Micus.“As much as any sensible man wants to know,” said Padna. “If you want to be really foolish, you ought to leave the pebbles alone, and start counting all the grains of sand in the world.”“I’ll count the pebbles first,” said Micus.“’Tis only vanity that makes a man do what every one else is too sensible to do,” said Padna. “But ’tis better to be foolish itself and get married than to be so vain that you don’t know you’re foolish.”“And why should I get married?” said Micus.“Well,” said Padna, “a man’s wife is always a great comfort to him when he wants to get fed, when he’s sick in bed and requires nursing, or when he’s too well off and suffers from discontent.Besides, ’tis a great thing to have a wife to quarrel with when you’re afraid of quarreling with any one else.”“And why should I quarrel with my wife without reason if I had one?”“Abuse, you know, is the great safety valve that keeps the world from exploding, and if you won’t abuse your wife, she’ll abuse you,” said Padna, “and isn’t it better to be first than last in anything?”“I don’t think so,” said Micus. “I’d rather be the last than the first man to meet a widow looking for a husband.”“And why?” said Padna.“There’s no escape from widows,” said Micus, “whatever accidents might happen with inexperienced young women.”“There’s something in what you say,” said Padna. “Perseverance, pugnacity, and stupidity are necessary for success if you aren’t cursed with intelligence and good breeding. And you can get any young woman without money to marry you against her will, but if you’re wise enough youwon’t. I need not tell you that lovers are only sensible when they commence wondering at the foolishness of their own children.”“A man thinking about getting married should have two women to choose from.”“And why, might I ask?”“Well, because if he lost one he could have the other, and if he lost both he would know what it is to be lucky. Marriage, you know, always makes one master and two slaves.”“’Tis too bad that there should be any slaves.”“It is, but while men will marry for love, and women for money, we cannot expect a change in our social conditions.”“There will be no change in the world while men suffering from indigestion will marry cooks.”“That’s a wise thing for a sensible man to do. A cranky and delicate man should marry a nurse, a man always out of employment should marry a dressmaker, and a man fond of quietness and reading should live with a married sister, if she has no children.”“Wisha, after all’s said and done, there’snothing worse nor better than being a bachelor, as the case may be. ’Tis better to be a bachelor, I’m thinking, for you may go to your grave without being disillusioned. But when a man’s dead, it doesn’t matter whether he was married or not, or shot by an ivory-handled revolver or died from rheumatics.”“A man suffering from rheumatics should be mindful of the westerly gales, and the frosts of winter, and keep from eating salty beef and tomatoes. I think a rheumaticky man should get married, but should not marry a woman with a tendency to gout. And ’tis always well to marry an orphan because there’s nothing worse than mothers-in-law, except sisters-in-law, and they’re the devil entirely.”“To change the subject,” said Micus, “I don’t think it is fair to catch lobsters at night. No one wants to be disturbed in their sleep.”“If you look at things like that,” said Padna, “you’ll never be happy, and though it isn’t easy to please myself, I think ’tis a grand thing entirely that all caterpillars are vegetarians.”“I don’t think we should waste time talking about caterpillars. They never do anything but eat cabbage and cause gardeners to use bad language. Of course, the history of a buffalo or a butterfly is a wonderful thing, but if elephants were to grow wings we wouldn’t take any notice of canaries, bees, or water hens,” said Micus.“I’d give a lot of money to see a flock of elephants flying over the Rock of Cashel,” said Padna.“That would be a great thing for the newspapers and the moving pictures, though perhaps a dangerous thing for people of a nervous disposition,” said Micus.“And ‘twould be the devil of a thing entirely if they forgot to fly.”“Nervousness is a curse or a blessing, according to the individual, of course. The evil that some men do lives after them, and the good does be interred with their bones.”“That’s true, but when men do neither good nor harm they might as well keep out of politicsaltogether. No man is as wise or as foolish as he thinks he is, and if you were to capture all the stray thoughts that does be floating about in your head and put them down in writing, you’d be the greatest curiosity that ever was.”“When a man loses a button,” said Micus, “he should immediately sew it on for himself, if he couldn’t get any one to do it for him.”“Selfishness is the basis of success,” said Padna.“To give away what you don’t want is wisdom without generosity, and to keep what is of no use to you is the worst kind of folly.”“Fighting is a natural instinct, and to fight for what’s yours, be it honor or property, is a noble thing, but to fight for what doesn’t belong to you is both dangerous and foolish.”“That’s so indeed. I saw two crows fighting for a crust of bread that a child dropped in the street, and they didn’t cease until both had their eyes picked out.”“And who got the crust?”“A sparrow who came along while they were fighting, and devoured it.”“Then the crows without knowing it became philanthropists.”“Well, ’tis better to make mistakes if some one benefits by them than to make no mistakes at all. I think I’ll go on counting the pebbles and leave you to find a philosophy for yourself,” said Micus.“Well,” said Padna, “when a man can content himself by being foolish, ’tis only a fool that would be a philosopher.”

“What are you doing there?” said Padna Dan to Micus Pat, as he watched him sifting sand between his fingers as he stood on the shore of Bantry Bay.

“I’m doing what nobody ever thought of doing before and what no one may ever think of doing again,” said Micus. “I’m counting the pebbles of Bantry Bay from Dunboy to Glengarriffe. And that’s more than Napoleon thought of doing.”

“And why should you be doing the likes of that?” said Padna.

“Well,” said Micus, “when they’re all counted, I’ll know more than before and be as famous as the King of Spain himself.”

“You might as well be trying to count all the blades of grass from Dunkirk to Belgrade, but you’d be dead and forgotten long before you’d have as much as the ten thousandth part of half of them counted,” said Padna.

“What do you know about counting pebbles or the red skeeories that does be on the white thorn-bushes in the month of August?” said Micus.

“As much as any sensible man wants to know,” said Padna. “If you want to be really foolish, you ought to leave the pebbles alone, and start counting all the grains of sand in the world.”

“I’ll count the pebbles first,” said Micus.

“’Tis only vanity that makes a man do what every one else is too sensible to do,” said Padna. “But ’tis better to be foolish itself and get married than to be so vain that you don’t know you’re foolish.”

“And why should I get married?” said Micus.

“Well,” said Padna, “a man’s wife is always a great comfort to him when he wants to get fed, when he’s sick in bed and requires nursing, or when he’s too well off and suffers from discontent.Besides, ’tis a great thing to have a wife to quarrel with when you’re afraid of quarreling with any one else.”

“And why should I quarrel with my wife without reason if I had one?”

“Abuse, you know, is the great safety valve that keeps the world from exploding, and if you won’t abuse your wife, she’ll abuse you,” said Padna, “and isn’t it better to be first than last in anything?”

“I don’t think so,” said Micus. “I’d rather be the last than the first man to meet a widow looking for a husband.”

“And why?” said Padna.

“There’s no escape from widows,” said Micus, “whatever accidents might happen with inexperienced young women.”

“There’s something in what you say,” said Padna. “Perseverance, pugnacity, and stupidity are necessary for success if you aren’t cursed with intelligence and good breeding. And you can get any young woman without money to marry you against her will, but if you’re wise enough youwon’t. I need not tell you that lovers are only sensible when they commence wondering at the foolishness of their own children.”

“A man thinking about getting married should have two women to choose from.”

“And why, might I ask?”

“Well, because if he lost one he could have the other, and if he lost both he would know what it is to be lucky. Marriage, you know, always makes one master and two slaves.”

“’Tis too bad that there should be any slaves.”

“It is, but while men will marry for love, and women for money, we cannot expect a change in our social conditions.”

“There will be no change in the world while men suffering from indigestion will marry cooks.”

“That’s a wise thing for a sensible man to do. A cranky and delicate man should marry a nurse, a man always out of employment should marry a dressmaker, and a man fond of quietness and reading should live with a married sister, if she has no children.”

“Wisha, after all’s said and done, there’snothing worse nor better than being a bachelor, as the case may be. ’Tis better to be a bachelor, I’m thinking, for you may go to your grave without being disillusioned. But when a man’s dead, it doesn’t matter whether he was married or not, or shot by an ivory-handled revolver or died from rheumatics.”

“A man suffering from rheumatics should be mindful of the westerly gales, and the frosts of winter, and keep from eating salty beef and tomatoes. I think a rheumaticky man should get married, but should not marry a woman with a tendency to gout. And ’tis always well to marry an orphan because there’s nothing worse than mothers-in-law, except sisters-in-law, and they’re the devil entirely.”

“To change the subject,” said Micus, “I don’t think it is fair to catch lobsters at night. No one wants to be disturbed in their sleep.”

“If you look at things like that,” said Padna, “you’ll never be happy, and though it isn’t easy to please myself, I think ’tis a grand thing entirely that all caterpillars are vegetarians.”

“I don’t think we should waste time talking about caterpillars. They never do anything but eat cabbage and cause gardeners to use bad language. Of course, the history of a buffalo or a butterfly is a wonderful thing, but if elephants were to grow wings we wouldn’t take any notice of canaries, bees, or water hens,” said Micus.

“I’d give a lot of money to see a flock of elephants flying over the Rock of Cashel,” said Padna.

“That would be a great thing for the newspapers and the moving pictures, though perhaps a dangerous thing for people of a nervous disposition,” said Micus.

“And ‘twould be the devil of a thing entirely if they forgot to fly.”

“Nervousness is a curse or a blessing, according to the individual, of course. The evil that some men do lives after them, and the good does be interred with their bones.”

“That’s true, but when men do neither good nor harm they might as well keep out of politicsaltogether. No man is as wise or as foolish as he thinks he is, and if you were to capture all the stray thoughts that does be floating about in your head and put them down in writing, you’d be the greatest curiosity that ever was.”

“When a man loses a button,” said Micus, “he should immediately sew it on for himself, if he couldn’t get any one to do it for him.”

“Selfishness is the basis of success,” said Padna.

“To give away what you don’t want is wisdom without generosity, and to keep what is of no use to you is the worst kind of folly.”

“Fighting is a natural instinct, and to fight for what’s yours, be it honor or property, is a noble thing, but to fight for what doesn’t belong to you is both dangerous and foolish.”

“That’s so indeed. I saw two crows fighting for a crust of bread that a child dropped in the street, and they didn’t cease until both had their eyes picked out.”

“And who got the crust?”

“A sparrow who came along while they were fighting, and devoured it.”

“Then the crows without knowing it became philanthropists.”

“Well, ’tis better to make mistakes if some one benefits by them than to make no mistakes at all. I think I’ll go on counting the pebbles and leave you to find a philosophy for yourself,” said Micus.

“Well,” said Padna, “when a man can content himself by being foolish, ’tis only a fool that would be a philosopher.”

The Lady of the Moon“’Tis a strange thing,” said Padna to Micus, as he sat on a boulder in his back garden, carving a dog’s head on the handle of a blackthorn walking stick, “that notwithstanding all the millions of people in the world, no two are alike, and stranger still that no two leaves of a tree, or blades of grass, are alike either. And while in a sense we are always doing something for others, ’tis ourselves we do be thinking about most of the time.”“True, very true! And as they say across the water: ‘Every man for himself, and the dollar for us all.’ Or as the Devil said when he joined the police force: ‘There’s no one like our own,’” said Micus.“Life is full of surprises, and the world is fullof strange people,” said Padna. “And ’tis a good job that we are like the leaves of the trees, and the blades of grass, so alike and yet so different. If we all had the same tastes, we might have no taste at all, so to speak.”“Speaking of strange people,” said Micus, “I wonder if you ever heard tell of one Malachi Riordan who used to sit in his back yard, every fine night, watching the reflection of the moon in a bucket of water, hoping to find the evening star with the aid of his wife’s spectacles.”“I did not then,” said Padna. “But I met just as strange a man, and he sitting on his hat on the banks of the Fairy Lake of Lisnavarna, watching the moon’s reflection in the clear waters, and the devil a one of him knew that he was contrary at all.”“Sure if a man was contrary, he wouldn’t know it, and if he was told he was contrary, he wouldn’t believe it, but think that every one was contrary but himself,” said Micus. “And I believe the Lake at Lisnavarna has a fatal fascination for people who are as sensible as ourselves.’Twas there that Matty Morrissey, the great fiddler of Arnaliska, and the holy Bishop of Clonmorna met their doom.”“How?” said Padna.“They were driving in an open carriage along the lonely roads at the dead of night,” said Micus, “and no finer carriage was ever seen, with its two wheels behind and its two wheels before, and a special seat for the driver, and cushions fit for a duke to sit on, and the Arms of the Four Provinces painted on the doors, and—”“Where were they driving to?” said Padna.“They were driving at breakneck speed to the little thatched chapel on the Hill of Meath, with its marble altar, red-tiled floor, painted Stations of the Cross, and beautiful silver candlesticks, for the Bishop was in the devil of a hurry to marry Queen Maeve to the Crown Prince of Spain, and Matty Morrissey was to play the music for the dancers after the wedding. But, lo and behold! as the carriage rattled along the dark, winding roads, the holy Bishop, Matty, and the driver fell fast asleep, and the horse fell asleep also,but he was a somnambulist and kept galloping away the same as if he was wide-awake, and when he came to the lake, he plunged into its silent waters, carrying with him the occupants of the carriage, and they all sank to its icy depths the same as if they were made of lead, and they were never heard of from that fatal hour to this blessed day.”“And why didn’t some one try to recover their bodies and give them a public funeral and christian burial?” said Padna.“What would be the use? Sure there is no bottom at all to the Lake of Lisnavarna. And you might as well be looking for a Christmas box from the Devil himself as to be looking for any one who gets drowned there,” said Micus.“That’s a sad story,” said Padna. “But ’tis better to be drowned inself than roasted to death in a forest fire, or worse still, talked to death by your mother-in-law or some of your friends.”“Talk is a deadly instrument of torture,” said Micus.“’Tis indeed,” said Padna, “and sometimesas bad as silence, but tell me how the disaster affected Queen Maeve and the Crown Prince.”“Poor Queen Maeve wept so much that she lost her beauty, and the Crown Prince married a farmer’s daughter who had a dowry of three stockingsful of sovereigns, thirty-three acres of loamy soil, three cows, and three clucking hens,” said Micus.“’Tis a sad world for some,” said Padna. “And ’tis my belief that the best as well as the worst of us don’t give a traneen about women once they lose their beauty.”“That’s my belief also,” said Micus. “Yet only for women there would be no love, and love is the greatest thing in all the world. It is an echo of Heaven’s glory, so to speak, and when denied us we don’t live at all. Without love we are nothing more nor less than dead men, stalking about from place to place, clutching on to this thing and that thing with the hope that we will be compensated for what we have missed. For what, might I ask, is a dog or a cat or a heap of money itself to a man or woman, when the darknights come and the frost and snow does be on the ground, and the wind blows down the chimney? And even though we might have plenty faggots for the fire and plenty food in the cupboard, and more than we want for ourselves, what good is it all, unless we have some one to share it with us? ’Tis by sharing with others that we bring ourselves nearer to God. And He has given the earth and all it contains to the good and bad alike!”“And ’tis by sharing with ourselves and being decent to ourselves on all occasions that we acquire wisdom,” said Padna.“Be that as it may, now let me hear about the stranger you met at the Fairy Lake,” said Micus.“Well,” said Padna, “as I approached him I up and ses: ‘Good night, stranger,’ ses I.“‘Good night kindly,’ ses he.“‘’Tis a fine night, thank God,’ ses I.“‘’Tis a glorious night,’ ses he. ‘But why do you come here to interrupt me, and I enjoying myself without any expense to you?’“‘Oh,’ ses I, ‘if you didn’t interrupt somepeople, they would never cease doing foolish things, and if you didn’t interrupt others they would never make any progress. And if we never asked questions we might be as ignorant as the schoolmasters themselves. ’Tis only by studying others that we can find out how wise or foolish we are ourselves.’“‘That may be, but curiosity is the cause of all trouble,’ ses he.“‘Curiosity is a sign of intelligence,’ ses I. ‘Because only for it we mightn’t try and find out what others were doing, and they might steal a march on ourselves, so to speak, by taking advantage of our indifference.’“‘Howsomever,’ ses he, ‘what is it to you what I am doing? If we were only half as interested in our own affairs, as we are in those of others, ‘twould be a good job for us all. Then we might achieve some success, but while we will keep bothering ourselves about others and keep bothering others about ourselves, we can’t expect either ourselves or any one else to be happy,’ ses he.“‘Well, bedad,’ ses I, ‘there’s something, if not a good deal, in what you say; still and all, if we weren’t a source of annoyance to our neighbours, and if our neighbours weren’t a source of annoyance to us, we might all die of inanition, and the whole globe might become nothing more or less than a beautiful garden, for the wild animals of the jungle, the birds of the air, and varmints like rats, mice, and cockroaches,’ ses I.“‘Why, my good sir,’ ses he, ‘if you could have all your questions answered, you would become too wise, and then you would get so disgusted with yourself and every one else that you might take it into your head to jump from the top of some high cliff into a raging sea and end your life in that way.’“‘If I was going to commit suicide, at all,’ ses I, ‘’tis the way I’d pay some one to put poison in my ear while I would be asleep, and die like the King of Denmark himself.’“‘Your conceit is refreshing! Not alone would you have your name in the paper for being a suicide, but for aiding and abetting in your ownmurder as well. ‘Twould be a clear case of dying by another’s hand at your own instigation. But now to your query. You asked me what I was looking at in the lake.’“‘I believe I did,’ ses I.“‘Well,’ ses he, ‘I was looking at the lady in the moon.’“‘The lady in the moon!’ ses I.“‘Yes,’ ses he, ‘the lady in the moon.’“‘Sure, I always thought there was only a man in the moon,’ ses I.“‘There’s a lady there too, but don’t tell any one,’ ses he.“‘Are you afraid any one might run away with her?’ ses I.“‘Well, I am and I am not,’ ses he.“‘When did you discover that there was a lady in the moon?’ ses I.“‘Years and years ago when I was a young man of three sixes,’ ses he.“‘The Lord save us all!’ ses I. ‘And you never told the scientists about it?’“‘I did not,’ ses he. ‘They should have foundit out for themselves. There’s many a thing that the scientists don’t know, and many a thing that the clergy don’t know, and many a thing that the very wisest of us don’t know, but there is one thing that we all know,’ ses he.“‘And what is that?’ ses I.“‘Some day we will all be as dead as decency. But nevertheless it doesn’t make us treat each other a bit better,’ ses he.“‘The uncertainty of everything is the only certainty we have,’ ses I. ‘And very few of us say anything worth thinking about, and what most of us think is not worth talking about. However, I’d like to know whether the moon was in the east or the west when you discovered the lady that captured your heart.’“‘’Twas in this very lake the moon was when I saw my love for the first time, and though some fifty years or more have passed since then, she is as beautiful, lithe, lissome, and gay as ever, and she as elegant as Helen of Troy herself,’ ses he.“‘I’ve been looking at the moon all my lifetime,’ ses I, ‘in pools of water, lakes, rivers, andthe sky itself, and the devil a one I ever saw in it at all.’“‘That’s not a bit surprising,’ ses he. ‘Some walk from the cradle to the grave without noticing the beauty of the universe, and what’s more, they are never impressed with what’s extraordinary, or surprised at the obvious. And when they see the things they have heard so much about, they do be surprised at what they think is the stupidity of the intelligent people, because they have no sense of the beautiful themselves.’“‘God knows,’ ses I, ‘there are women enough on the face of the earth without going to look for them in the moon, nevertheless, I’d like to see the lady that’s as purty as Helen of Troy, and she more beautiful than all the queens of the world.’“‘Well,’ ses he, ‘if you want to see the lady of the moon, you must take a hop, step, and a jump forward, and a hop, step, and a jump, backward, then turn on your heel three times, bore a hole in the crown of your hat with the buckhorn handle of your blackthorn, put your face in the hat itself, look through the hole the way you’d look atthe stars through a telescope, and you’ll see the lady I fell head and heels in love with when I was a lad of three sixes.’“‘Bedad,’ ses I, ‘that would be a queer thing for me to do. Sure while I’d have my face in the hat, you might run behind me and give me one kick and pitch me headlong into the lake, and I’d be sinking in its icy waters for ever like Matty Morrissey the fiddler, and the holy Bishop of Clonmorna.’“‘God forgive you for having such an evil mind,’ ses he. ‘I that never did hurt nor harm to any one in all my born days, but myself.’“‘Well,’ ses I, ‘a man always makes a fool of himself about women, and he might as well make a fool of himself one way as another, and as I won’t be making a precedent by doing something idiotic to please another, I’ll bore a hole in my hat, though I’d rather bore one in yours, and try if I can’t see the lady.’ And as true as I’m telling you, I looked through the hole and saw the lady of the moon for the first time, and then I up and ses to the stranger:“‘What kind of a man are you to remain a bachelor all those long years, and to be coming here night after night, when the moon shows in the sky, wasting your affection on a lady you never opened your lips to?’ ses I.“‘I’m the happiest man alive,’ ses he. ‘Because the woman I love has never wounded or slighted me in any way, and what’s more, she never will. She don’t want to be going out to balls and parties at night, and gallivanting with other women’s husbands, and she cares as little about the latest fashions as I do myself. And we have never had as much as a single quarrel, and we are the same to each other now as when first we met. I have yet to be disillusioned,’ ses he, ‘and that’s something worth boasting about.’“‘But,’ ses I, ‘for all you know, the lady of the moon might be in love with the man in the moon.’“‘That’s so,’ ses he. ‘And maybe your wife might be in love with the man next door, or across the street, or some one away in the wildsof Africa, Australia, or America, or she may be in love with some one who’s dead and gone, or some good-looking stranger who came into her life for a day or a week and went out of it for ever. Women can keep their own secrets,’ ses he. ‘They don’t tell us all they think, and very often when they say no, they mean yes. You have a lot to learn,’ ses he.“‘Maybe I have,’ ses I. ‘But ’tis as bad for a man to know too much or too little, as to know nothing at all, I’m thinking.’“‘Maybe it is,’ ses he.“‘And when are you going to wed the lady in the moon? Is it when she comes down from the sky?’ ses I.“‘No,’ ses he, ‘but when she comes up from the lake.’ And then a large dark cloud floated past and the lady of the moon was seen no more that night.”“’Tis about time we went indoors,” said Padna.“’Tis,” said Micus. “The Angelus is ringing, and I’m feeling hungry.”

The Lady of the Moon

“’Tis a strange thing,” said Padna to Micus, as he sat on a boulder in his back garden, carving a dog’s head on the handle of a blackthorn walking stick, “that notwithstanding all the millions of people in the world, no two are alike, and stranger still that no two leaves of a tree, or blades of grass, are alike either. And while in a sense we are always doing something for others, ’tis ourselves we do be thinking about most of the time.”“True, very true! And as they say across the water: ‘Every man for himself, and the dollar for us all.’ Or as the Devil said when he joined the police force: ‘There’s no one like our own,’” said Micus.“Life is full of surprises, and the world is fullof strange people,” said Padna. “And ’tis a good job that we are like the leaves of the trees, and the blades of grass, so alike and yet so different. If we all had the same tastes, we might have no taste at all, so to speak.”“Speaking of strange people,” said Micus, “I wonder if you ever heard tell of one Malachi Riordan who used to sit in his back yard, every fine night, watching the reflection of the moon in a bucket of water, hoping to find the evening star with the aid of his wife’s spectacles.”“I did not then,” said Padna. “But I met just as strange a man, and he sitting on his hat on the banks of the Fairy Lake of Lisnavarna, watching the moon’s reflection in the clear waters, and the devil a one of him knew that he was contrary at all.”“Sure if a man was contrary, he wouldn’t know it, and if he was told he was contrary, he wouldn’t believe it, but think that every one was contrary but himself,” said Micus. “And I believe the Lake at Lisnavarna has a fatal fascination for people who are as sensible as ourselves.’Twas there that Matty Morrissey, the great fiddler of Arnaliska, and the holy Bishop of Clonmorna met their doom.”“How?” said Padna.“They were driving in an open carriage along the lonely roads at the dead of night,” said Micus, “and no finer carriage was ever seen, with its two wheels behind and its two wheels before, and a special seat for the driver, and cushions fit for a duke to sit on, and the Arms of the Four Provinces painted on the doors, and—”“Where were they driving to?” said Padna.“They were driving at breakneck speed to the little thatched chapel on the Hill of Meath, with its marble altar, red-tiled floor, painted Stations of the Cross, and beautiful silver candlesticks, for the Bishop was in the devil of a hurry to marry Queen Maeve to the Crown Prince of Spain, and Matty Morrissey was to play the music for the dancers after the wedding. But, lo and behold! as the carriage rattled along the dark, winding roads, the holy Bishop, Matty, and the driver fell fast asleep, and the horse fell asleep also,but he was a somnambulist and kept galloping away the same as if he was wide-awake, and when he came to the lake, he plunged into its silent waters, carrying with him the occupants of the carriage, and they all sank to its icy depths the same as if they were made of lead, and they were never heard of from that fatal hour to this blessed day.”“And why didn’t some one try to recover their bodies and give them a public funeral and christian burial?” said Padna.“What would be the use? Sure there is no bottom at all to the Lake of Lisnavarna. And you might as well be looking for a Christmas box from the Devil himself as to be looking for any one who gets drowned there,” said Micus.“That’s a sad story,” said Padna. “But ’tis better to be drowned inself than roasted to death in a forest fire, or worse still, talked to death by your mother-in-law or some of your friends.”“Talk is a deadly instrument of torture,” said Micus.“’Tis indeed,” said Padna, “and sometimesas bad as silence, but tell me how the disaster affected Queen Maeve and the Crown Prince.”“Poor Queen Maeve wept so much that she lost her beauty, and the Crown Prince married a farmer’s daughter who had a dowry of three stockingsful of sovereigns, thirty-three acres of loamy soil, three cows, and three clucking hens,” said Micus.“’Tis a sad world for some,” said Padna. “And ’tis my belief that the best as well as the worst of us don’t give a traneen about women once they lose their beauty.”“That’s my belief also,” said Micus. “Yet only for women there would be no love, and love is the greatest thing in all the world. It is an echo of Heaven’s glory, so to speak, and when denied us we don’t live at all. Without love we are nothing more nor less than dead men, stalking about from place to place, clutching on to this thing and that thing with the hope that we will be compensated for what we have missed. For what, might I ask, is a dog or a cat or a heap of money itself to a man or woman, when the darknights come and the frost and snow does be on the ground, and the wind blows down the chimney? And even though we might have plenty faggots for the fire and plenty food in the cupboard, and more than we want for ourselves, what good is it all, unless we have some one to share it with us? ’Tis by sharing with others that we bring ourselves nearer to God. And He has given the earth and all it contains to the good and bad alike!”“And ’tis by sharing with ourselves and being decent to ourselves on all occasions that we acquire wisdom,” said Padna.“Be that as it may, now let me hear about the stranger you met at the Fairy Lake,” said Micus.“Well,” said Padna, “as I approached him I up and ses: ‘Good night, stranger,’ ses I.“‘Good night kindly,’ ses he.“‘’Tis a fine night, thank God,’ ses I.“‘’Tis a glorious night,’ ses he. ‘But why do you come here to interrupt me, and I enjoying myself without any expense to you?’“‘Oh,’ ses I, ‘if you didn’t interrupt somepeople, they would never cease doing foolish things, and if you didn’t interrupt others they would never make any progress. And if we never asked questions we might be as ignorant as the schoolmasters themselves. ’Tis only by studying others that we can find out how wise or foolish we are ourselves.’“‘That may be, but curiosity is the cause of all trouble,’ ses he.“‘Curiosity is a sign of intelligence,’ ses I. ‘Because only for it we mightn’t try and find out what others were doing, and they might steal a march on ourselves, so to speak, by taking advantage of our indifference.’“‘Howsomever,’ ses he, ‘what is it to you what I am doing? If we were only half as interested in our own affairs, as we are in those of others, ‘twould be a good job for us all. Then we might achieve some success, but while we will keep bothering ourselves about others and keep bothering others about ourselves, we can’t expect either ourselves or any one else to be happy,’ ses he.“‘Well, bedad,’ ses I, ‘there’s something, if not a good deal, in what you say; still and all, if we weren’t a source of annoyance to our neighbours, and if our neighbours weren’t a source of annoyance to us, we might all die of inanition, and the whole globe might become nothing more or less than a beautiful garden, for the wild animals of the jungle, the birds of the air, and varmints like rats, mice, and cockroaches,’ ses I.“‘Why, my good sir,’ ses he, ‘if you could have all your questions answered, you would become too wise, and then you would get so disgusted with yourself and every one else that you might take it into your head to jump from the top of some high cliff into a raging sea and end your life in that way.’“‘If I was going to commit suicide, at all,’ ses I, ‘’tis the way I’d pay some one to put poison in my ear while I would be asleep, and die like the King of Denmark himself.’“‘Your conceit is refreshing! Not alone would you have your name in the paper for being a suicide, but for aiding and abetting in your ownmurder as well. ‘Twould be a clear case of dying by another’s hand at your own instigation. But now to your query. You asked me what I was looking at in the lake.’“‘I believe I did,’ ses I.“‘Well,’ ses he, ‘I was looking at the lady in the moon.’“‘The lady in the moon!’ ses I.“‘Yes,’ ses he, ‘the lady in the moon.’“‘Sure, I always thought there was only a man in the moon,’ ses I.“‘There’s a lady there too, but don’t tell any one,’ ses he.“‘Are you afraid any one might run away with her?’ ses I.“‘Well, I am and I am not,’ ses he.“‘When did you discover that there was a lady in the moon?’ ses I.“‘Years and years ago when I was a young man of three sixes,’ ses he.“‘The Lord save us all!’ ses I. ‘And you never told the scientists about it?’“‘I did not,’ ses he. ‘They should have foundit out for themselves. There’s many a thing that the scientists don’t know, and many a thing that the clergy don’t know, and many a thing that the very wisest of us don’t know, but there is one thing that we all know,’ ses he.“‘And what is that?’ ses I.“‘Some day we will all be as dead as decency. But nevertheless it doesn’t make us treat each other a bit better,’ ses he.“‘The uncertainty of everything is the only certainty we have,’ ses I. ‘And very few of us say anything worth thinking about, and what most of us think is not worth talking about. However, I’d like to know whether the moon was in the east or the west when you discovered the lady that captured your heart.’“‘’Twas in this very lake the moon was when I saw my love for the first time, and though some fifty years or more have passed since then, she is as beautiful, lithe, lissome, and gay as ever, and she as elegant as Helen of Troy herself,’ ses he.“‘I’ve been looking at the moon all my lifetime,’ ses I, ‘in pools of water, lakes, rivers, andthe sky itself, and the devil a one I ever saw in it at all.’“‘That’s not a bit surprising,’ ses he. ‘Some walk from the cradle to the grave without noticing the beauty of the universe, and what’s more, they are never impressed with what’s extraordinary, or surprised at the obvious. And when they see the things they have heard so much about, they do be surprised at what they think is the stupidity of the intelligent people, because they have no sense of the beautiful themselves.’“‘God knows,’ ses I, ‘there are women enough on the face of the earth without going to look for them in the moon, nevertheless, I’d like to see the lady that’s as purty as Helen of Troy, and she more beautiful than all the queens of the world.’“‘Well,’ ses he, ‘if you want to see the lady of the moon, you must take a hop, step, and a jump forward, and a hop, step, and a jump, backward, then turn on your heel three times, bore a hole in the crown of your hat with the buckhorn handle of your blackthorn, put your face in the hat itself, look through the hole the way you’d look atthe stars through a telescope, and you’ll see the lady I fell head and heels in love with when I was a lad of three sixes.’“‘Bedad,’ ses I, ‘that would be a queer thing for me to do. Sure while I’d have my face in the hat, you might run behind me and give me one kick and pitch me headlong into the lake, and I’d be sinking in its icy waters for ever like Matty Morrissey the fiddler, and the holy Bishop of Clonmorna.’“‘God forgive you for having such an evil mind,’ ses he. ‘I that never did hurt nor harm to any one in all my born days, but myself.’“‘Well,’ ses I, ‘a man always makes a fool of himself about women, and he might as well make a fool of himself one way as another, and as I won’t be making a precedent by doing something idiotic to please another, I’ll bore a hole in my hat, though I’d rather bore one in yours, and try if I can’t see the lady.’ And as true as I’m telling you, I looked through the hole and saw the lady of the moon for the first time, and then I up and ses to the stranger:“‘What kind of a man are you to remain a bachelor all those long years, and to be coming here night after night, when the moon shows in the sky, wasting your affection on a lady you never opened your lips to?’ ses I.“‘I’m the happiest man alive,’ ses he. ‘Because the woman I love has never wounded or slighted me in any way, and what’s more, she never will. She don’t want to be going out to balls and parties at night, and gallivanting with other women’s husbands, and she cares as little about the latest fashions as I do myself. And we have never had as much as a single quarrel, and we are the same to each other now as when first we met. I have yet to be disillusioned,’ ses he, ‘and that’s something worth boasting about.’“‘But,’ ses I, ‘for all you know, the lady of the moon might be in love with the man in the moon.’“‘That’s so,’ ses he. ‘And maybe your wife might be in love with the man next door, or across the street, or some one away in the wildsof Africa, Australia, or America, or she may be in love with some one who’s dead and gone, or some good-looking stranger who came into her life for a day or a week and went out of it for ever. Women can keep their own secrets,’ ses he. ‘They don’t tell us all they think, and very often when they say no, they mean yes. You have a lot to learn,’ ses he.“‘Maybe I have,’ ses I. ‘But ’tis as bad for a man to know too much or too little, as to know nothing at all, I’m thinking.’“‘Maybe it is,’ ses he.“‘And when are you going to wed the lady in the moon? Is it when she comes down from the sky?’ ses I.“‘No,’ ses he, ‘but when she comes up from the lake.’ And then a large dark cloud floated past and the lady of the moon was seen no more that night.”“’Tis about time we went indoors,” said Padna.“’Tis,” said Micus. “The Angelus is ringing, and I’m feeling hungry.”

“’Tis a strange thing,” said Padna to Micus, as he sat on a boulder in his back garden, carving a dog’s head on the handle of a blackthorn walking stick, “that notwithstanding all the millions of people in the world, no two are alike, and stranger still that no two leaves of a tree, or blades of grass, are alike either. And while in a sense we are always doing something for others, ’tis ourselves we do be thinking about most of the time.”

“True, very true! And as they say across the water: ‘Every man for himself, and the dollar for us all.’ Or as the Devil said when he joined the police force: ‘There’s no one like our own,’” said Micus.

“Life is full of surprises, and the world is fullof strange people,” said Padna. “And ’tis a good job that we are like the leaves of the trees, and the blades of grass, so alike and yet so different. If we all had the same tastes, we might have no taste at all, so to speak.”

“Speaking of strange people,” said Micus, “I wonder if you ever heard tell of one Malachi Riordan who used to sit in his back yard, every fine night, watching the reflection of the moon in a bucket of water, hoping to find the evening star with the aid of his wife’s spectacles.”

“I did not then,” said Padna. “But I met just as strange a man, and he sitting on his hat on the banks of the Fairy Lake of Lisnavarna, watching the moon’s reflection in the clear waters, and the devil a one of him knew that he was contrary at all.”

“Sure if a man was contrary, he wouldn’t know it, and if he was told he was contrary, he wouldn’t believe it, but think that every one was contrary but himself,” said Micus. “And I believe the Lake at Lisnavarna has a fatal fascination for people who are as sensible as ourselves.’Twas there that Matty Morrissey, the great fiddler of Arnaliska, and the holy Bishop of Clonmorna met their doom.”

“How?” said Padna.

“They were driving in an open carriage along the lonely roads at the dead of night,” said Micus, “and no finer carriage was ever seen, with its two wheels behind and its two wheels before, and a special seat for the driver, and cushions fit for a duke to sit on, and the Arms of the Four Provinces painted on the doors, and—”

“Where were they driving to?” said Padna.

“They were driving at breakneck speed to the little thatched chapel on the Hill of Meath, with its marble altar, red-tiled floor, painted Stations of the Cross, and beautiful silver candlesticks, for the Bishop was in the devil of a hurry to marry Queen Maeve to the Crown Prince of Spain, and Matty Morrissey was to play the music for the dancers after the wedding. But, lo and behold! as the carriage rattled along the dark, winding roads, the holy Bishop, Matty, and the driver fell fast asleep, and the horse fell asleep also,but he was a somnambulist and kept galloping away the same as if he was wide-awake, and when he came to the lake, he plunged into its silent waters, carrying with him the occupants of the carriage, and they all sank to its icy depths the same as if they were made of lead, and they were never heard of from that fatal hour to this blessed day.”

“And why didn’t some one try to recover their bodies and give them a public funeral and christian burial?” said Padna.

“What would be the use? Sure there is no bottom at all to the Lake of Lisnavarna. And you might as well be looking for a Christmas box from the Devil himself as to be looking for any one who gets drowned there,” said Micus.

“That’s a sad story,” said Padna. “But ’tis better to be drowned inself than roasted to death in a forest fire, or worse still, talked to death by your mother-in-law or some of your friends.”

“Talk is a deadly instrument of torture,” said Micus.

“’Tis indeed,” said Padna, “and sometimesas bad as silence, but tell me how the disaster affected Queen Maeve and the Crown Prince.”

“Poor Queen Maeve wept so much that she lost her beauty, and the Crown Prince married a farmer’s daughter who had a dowry of three stockingsful of sovereigns, thirty-three acres of loamy soil, three cows, and three clucking hens,” said Micus.

“’Tis a sad world for some,” said Padna. “And ’tis my belief that the best as well as the worst of us don’t give a traneen about women once they lose their beauty.”

“That’s my belief also,” said Micus. “Yet only for women there would be no love, and love is the greatest thing in all the world. It is an echo of Heaven’s glory, so to speak, and when denied us we don’t live at all. Without love we are nothing more nor less than dead men, stalking about from place to place, clutching on to this thing and that thing with the hope that we will be compensated for what we have missed. For what, might I ask, is a dog or a cat or a heap of money itself to a man or woman, when the darknights come and the frost and snow does be on the ground, and the wind blows down the chimney? And even though we might have plenty faggots for the fire and plenty food in the cupboard, and more than we want for ourselves, what good is it all, unless we have some one to share it with us? ’Tis by sharing with others that we bring ourselves nearer to God. And He has given the earth and all it contains to the good and bad alike!”

“And ’tis by sharing with ourselves and being decent to ourselves on all occasions that we acquire wisdom,” said Padna.

“Be that as it may, now let me hear about the stranger you met at the Fairy Lake,” said Micus.

“Well,” said Padna, “as I approached him I up and ses: ‘Good night, stranger,’ ses I.

“‘Good night kindly,’ ses he.

“‘’Tis a fine night, thank God,’ ses I.

“‘’Tis a glorious night,’ ses he. ‘But why do you come here to interrupt me, and I enjoying myself without any expense to you?’

“‘Oh,’ ses I, ‘if you didn’t interrupt somepeople, they would never cease doing foolish things, and if you didn’t interrupt others they would never make any progress. And if we never asked questions we might be as ignorant as the schoolmasters themselves. ’Tis only by studying others that we can find out how wise or foolish we are ourselves.’

“‘That may be, but curiosity is the cause of all trouble,’ ses he.

“‘Curiosity is a sign of intelligence,’ ses I. ‘Because only for it we mightn’t try and find out what others were doing, and they might steal a march on ourselves, so to speak, by taking advantage of our indifference.’

“‘Howsomever,’ ses he, ‘what is it to you what I am doing? If we were only half as interested in our own affairs, as we are in those of others, ‘twould be a good job for us all. Then we might achieve some success, but while we will keep bothering ourselves about others and keep bothering others about ourselves, we can’t expect either ourselves or any one else to be happy,’ ses he.

“‘Well, bedad,’ ses I, ‘there’s something, if not a good deal, in what you say; still and all, if we weren’t a source of annoyance to our neighbours, and if our neighbours weren’t a source of annoyance to us, we might all die of inanition, and the whole globe might become nothing more or less than a beautiful garden, for the wild animals of the jungle, the birds of the air, and varmints like rats, mice, and cockroaches,’ ses I.

“‘Why, my good sir,’ ses he, ‘if you could have all your questions answered, you would become too wise, and then you would get so disgusted with yourself and every one else that you might take it into your head to jump from the top of some high cliff into a raging sea and end your life in that way.’

“‘If I was going to commit suicide, at all,’ ses I, ‘’tis the way I’d pay some one to put poison in my ear while I would be asleep, and die like the King of Denmark himself.’

“‘Your conceit is refreshing! Not alone would you have your name in the paper for being a suicide, but for aiding and abetting in your ownmurder as well. ‘Twould be a clear case of dying by another’s hand at your own instigation. But now to your query. You asked me what I was looking at in the lake.’

“‘I believe I did,’ ses I.

“‘Well,’ ses he, ‘I was looking at the lady in the moon.’

“‘The lady in the moon!’ ses I.

“‘Yes,’ ses he, ‘the lady in the moon.’

“‘Sure, I always thought there was only a man in the moon,’ ses I.

“‘There’s a lady there too, but don’t tell any one,’ ses he.

“‘Are you afraid any one might run away with her?’ ses I.

“‘Well, I am and I am not,’ ses he.

“‘When did you discover that there was a lady in the moon?’ ses I.

“‘Years and years ago when I was a young man of three sixes,’ ses he.

“‘The Lord save us all!’ ses I. ‘And you never told the scientists about it?’

“‘I did not,’ ses he. ‘They should have foundit out for themselves. There’s many a thing that the scientists don’t know, and many a thing that the clergy don’t know, and many a thing that the very wisest of us don’t know, but there is one thing that we all know,’ ses he.

“‘And what is that?’ ses I.

“‘Some day we will all be as dead as decency. But nevertheless it doesn’t make us treat each other a bit better,’ ses he.

“‘The uncertainty of everything is the only certainty we have,’ ses I. ‘And very few of us say anything worth thinking about, and what most of us think is not worth talking about. However, I’d like to know whether the moon was in the east or the west when you discovered the lady that captured your heart.’

“‘’Twas in this very lake the moon was when I saw my love for the first time, and though some fifty years or more have passed since then, she is as beautiful, lithe, lissome, and gay as ever, and she as elegant as Helen of Troy herself,’ ses he.

“‘I’ve been looking at the moon all my lifetime,’ ses I, ‘in pools of water, lakes, rivers, andthe sky itself, and the devil a one I ever saw in it at all.’

“‘That’s not a bit surprising,’ ses he. ‘Some walk from the cradle to the grave without noticing the beauty of the universe, and what’s more, they are never impressed with what’s extraordinary, or surprised at the obvious. And when they see the things they have heard so much about, they do be surprised at what they think is the stupidity of the intelligent people, because they have no sense of the beautiful themselves.’

“‘God knows,’ ses I, ‘there are women enough on the face of the earth without going to look for them in the moon, nevertheless, I’d like to see the lady that’s as purty as Helen of Troy, and she more beautiful than all the queens of the world.’

“‘Well,’ ses he, ‘if you want to see the lady of the moon, you must take a hop, step, and a jump forward, and a hop, step, and a jump, backward, then turn on your heel three times, bore a hole in the crown of your hat with the buckhorn handle of your blackthorn, put your face in the hat itself, look through the hole the way you’d look atthe stars through a telescope, and you’ll see the lady I fell head and heels in love with when I was a lad of three sixes.’

“‘Bedad,’ ses I, ‘that would be a queer thing for me to do. Sure while I’d have my face in the hat, you might run behind me and give me one kick and pitch me headlong into the lake, and I’d be sinking in its icy waters for ever like Matty Morrissey the fiddler, and the holy Bishop of Clonmorna.’

“‘God forgive you for having such an evil mind,’ ses he. ‘I that never did hurt nor harm to any one in all my born days, but myself.’

“‘Well,’ ses I, ‘a man always makes a fool of himself about women, and he might as well make a fool of himself one way as another, and as I won’t be making a precedent by doing something idiotic to please another, I’ll bore a hole in my hat, though I’d rather bore one in yours, and try if I can’t see the lady.’ And as true as I’m telling you, I looked through the hole and saw the lady of the moon for the first time, and then I up and ses to the stranger:

“‘What kind of a man are you to remain a bachelor all those long years, and to be coming here night after night, when the moon shows in the sky, wasting your affection on a lady you never opened your lips to?’ ses I.

“‘I’m the happiest man alive,’ ses he. ‘Because the woman I love has never wounded or slighted me in any way, and what’s more, she never will. She don’t want to be going out to balls and parties at night, and gallivanting with other women’s husbands, and she cares as little about the latest fashions as I do myself. And we have never had as much as a single quarrel, and we are the same to each other now as when first we met. I have yet to be disillusioned,’ ses he, ‘and that’s something worth boasting about.’

“‘But,’ ses I, ‘for all you know, the lady of the moon might be in love with the man in the moon.’

“‘That’s so,’ ses he. ‘And maybe your wife might be in love with the man next door, or across the street, or some one away in the wildsof Africa, Australia, or America, or she may be in love with some one who’s dead and gone, or some good-looking stranger who came into her life for a day or a week and went out of it for ever. Women can keep their own secrets,’ ses he. ‘They don’t tell us all they think, and very often when they say no, they mean yes. You have a lot to learn,’ ses he.

“‘Maybe I have,’ ses I. ‘But ’tis as bad for a man to know too much or too little, as to know nothing at all, I’m thinking.’

“‘Maybe it is,’ ses he.

“‘And when are you going to wed the lady in the moon? Is it when she comes down from the sky?’ ses I.

“‘No,’ ses he, ‘but when she comes up from the lake.’ And then a large dark cloud floated past and the lady of the moon was seen no more that night.”

“’Tis about time we went indoors,” said Padna.

“’Tis,” said Micus. “The Angelus is ringing, and I’m feeling hungry.”

A Bargain of BargainsA blue haze hung on the distant hills when Padna Dan looked pensively from the landscape to his watch, and said to his friend Micus Pat, who stood by his side: “The world is surely a wonderful and a beautiful place as well; but it would seem as though there were wings on the feet of time, so quickly does night follow day.”“Time is the barque that carries us from the cradle to the grave, and leaves us on the shores of the other world alone,” said Padna. “And as my poor mother used to say:Time, like youth, will have its fling,And of a beggar make a king;And of a king a beggar make,Merely for a joke’s sake.Time indeed brings many changes. Cromwell made peasants of the Irish gentry, and America made gentry of the Irish peasantry, and awful snobs some of them became too! But a whit for snobbery, for what is it but an adjunct of prosperity, like gout, which disappears again with adversity.”“Snobbery at best is a foolish thing,” said Micus.“But when we consider the unimportance of our own troubles, and the importance of the principal parts of the British Empire, such as Ireland, England, Scotland, Australia and T. P. O’Connor, our insignificance looms up before our gaze, and almost strikes us in the face, so to speak.”“And ’tis surprising it doesn’t obliterate us altogether,” said Padna. “However, let us forget Tay Pay O’Connor for a little while, as he will never do so himself, and I will tell you a story about one Cormac McShane from the townland of Ballinderry.”“On with the story; I am always glad to hear tell of some one worth talking about,” said Micus.“Well,” said Padna, “Cormac was as fine a looking man as ever broke his promises. And unless you had great astuteness of observation, and an eye like a hawk or a landlady, you wouldn’t see the likes of him in a twelvemonth, even though you might be gallivanting through the streets every day. And while nature treated him rather well, for the poor man he was, Dame Fortune seemed to have ignored him altogether, until he took his fate in his own hands, and then things began to improve. But to make a short story as long as I can, like the journalists and modern novelists, one day while Cormac was sitting in a barber’s chair, having his hair cut and trying to forget what the barber was talking about, a bright idea came to him as he caught a glimpse of himself in the looking-glass, and lo and behold! without saying a word, he jumped up and stood on his two feet, and the poor barber got so excited that he cut a piece off the top of his right ear. Cormac wasn’t the least displeased, because he always thought that his ears were too long, so then and there he told the barber to cut a piece about thesame length off his other ear, so that they would both look nice and even. And when his wishes were complied with, he thanked the barber, and then he up and ses to himself: ‘Cormac McShane,’ ses he, ‘I never before thought you were such a good-looking fellow. Sure the King of Spain or the Emperor of China would feel as proud as a peacock to have a countenance like yours. Yet,’ ses he, ‘isn’t it a strange thing that one so handsome, and modest likewise, and with such a splendid appetite, and a taste for good things in general, should be compelled by stress of circumstances to live on pigs’ heads, and tough cabbage, and no change at all in your dietary but salt conger eels on Fridays. Why,’ ses he, ‘a man with your appreciation should have plenty of the choice things of life, and never know the want of anything. What, might I ask,’ ses he, ‘has the world achieved by all the books that have been written, and all the charity sermons that have been preached, when you, Cormac McShane, couldn’t go from Cork to Dublin unless you borrowed the money, and it might be as hard for you toborrow it, as ‘twould be for yourself to lend it to another.’“That’s good sound talk,” said Micus. “Go on with the story, and don’t let any one interrupt you.”“‘Now,’ ses Cormac, ‘If every one in the whole world from Peru to Clonakilty would only give you a halfpenny each, and no one would miss such a trifle, you would be the richest man alive, and then you needn’t give a traneen about any one. But, of course,’ ses he, ‘that would be too much originality to expect from the bewildered inhabitants of the globe, moreover,’ ses he, ‘when we consider that the majority of people are always trying to get something for nothing, themselves.”“He had the temperament of a millionaire,” said Micus.“Indeed, he had, and the ingenuity of the tinkers, who would charge for putting a patch on a skillet where there was no hole at all,” said Padna. “‘However,’ ses Cormac to himself, ‘there’s nothing like money, no matter how it may have been earned, and every man should be hisown counsellor, because the little we know about each other only leads us into confusion and chaos. Now,’ ses he, ‘very few ever became wealthy by hard work alone, and you, Cormac McShane, must think of some scheme by which you can become rich, and all of a sudden too.’ And so he exercised his brains for about a month, and kept thinking and thinking, until finally he managed to capture an idea that he found straying among all the wild fancies that ever kept buzzing about in his head. And he was so pleased and delighted that he ses to himself: ‘Cormac,’ ses he, ‘there isn’t another man alive who could think of such a short cut to wealth, health, and happiness, and as a mark of my appreciation, I will now treat you to whatever you may want, provided, of course, that it won’t cost more than one shilling. A shilling is enough to spend on any one at a time, unless you are sure of getting two shillings, worth in return. And extravagance is nearly as bad as economy, when it isn’t used to advantage.’”“And what was the brilliant idea that inspiredsuch generosity?” said Micus. “Was it the way he made up his mind to dress himself as a duke, and go to America and marry some heiress who couldn’t tell a duke from a professional plausible humbug?”“It wasn’t anything as commonplace as that,” said Padna.“What was it then?” said Micus.“‘I’m going to raffle myself at a guinea a ticket,’ ses he. ‘And if I will sell five hundred, I will have enough to buy a small farm. That would give me a real start in life, and after I have what I want, discontent is possible.’ And then and there, he got his photo printed on a card, on which was written:‘A Bargain of BargainsTo be raffled, and drawn for, on St. Swithin’s eve, at the Black Cock Tavern, one Cormac McShane. He stands five feet six inches in his stocking vamps, black hair, blue eyes, an easy disposition, and no poor relations. A limited numberof tickets, to wit, five hundred, will be sold at one guinea each, to widows without children, of less than three score and five.’”“Well,” said Micus, “the devil be in it, but that was the most extraordinary way I ever heard of a man looking for a wife with a fortune. And why did he make the stipulation that only widows were eligible?”“Because widows are always less extravagant than single women, and they know how to humour a man better, when he has lost his temper.”“And how many tickets did he sell?” asked Micus.“Every single one, and he could have sold as many more, only he hadn’t them printed,” said Padna.“And that was how Cormac McShane got a wife, or how a wife got him, if you will?” said Micus.“Yes,” said Padna, “and while the money lasted, Cormac was the happiest man in the country.”“Now,” said Micus, “if Cormac McShane was a wise man, Garret Doran was another.”“How so?” said Padna. “Was it the way he always kept his mouth shut until he had something to say?”“Not exactly,” said Micus. “But he could do that too, when it pleased him. Garret was a miller, who kept a mill near the courthouse, so one day when the famous judge, Patcheen the Piper, as he was called, was sitting on the Bench, passing sentence on a batch of patriots who were to be hanged, drawn, and quartered, for no other offence than loving a country that never did anything for them better than they loved themselves, a great noise was heard, and the Judge was so annoyed at being disturbed that he stopped short in the middle of the death sentence and ses, at the top of his voice:“‘What hullaballoo is that I hear? And who dares make any noise at all, and interfere with my amusement?’ ses he. ‘If I will hear another sound, I’ll order every one within a radius of five miles to be boiled in turpentine, and sealedup in tin cans, and have them shipped to the King of the Cannibal Islands, as a Christmas box from the people of generous Ireland,’ ses he.“‘Oh,’ ses the Crown Solicitor, ‘that’s only Garret Doran’s mill grinding corn for the poor people.’“‘The poor people!’ ses the Judge in a rage. ‘Who the devil cares a traneen about the poor but the politicians when they want to get their votes, the kings and emperors when they want them to go to the wars, or the clergy when they are preaching charity sermons for the benefit of the inhabitants of Central Africa? And who will deny that those cannibals wouldn’t be better off if they were left alone? Nevertheless, ’tis only fair to state that they have just as much appreciation of decency and kindness as the best of ourselves. But be all that as it may, go and tell Garret Doran to stop his mill at once, and if he don’t obey your orders, bring him here before me, and I’ll order him to be hanged with these poor fools of patriots who have done less to annoy me than he has. And hanging patriots, if youhaven’t a conscience, is as good a way of making a living, as starving your employees to death, like some of the pious-faced rascals who have the impudence to invite myself to dine with them. Not indeed, that the likes of me wants a dinner or a meal of food from any one. The poor, who can’t afford a square meal more than once in the year, are never invited to partake of the hospitality of those who give dinners to those who don’t need them. But why should I bother about anything in a world like this, where everything is in such a hopeless state of confusion? Howsomever, a judge, like a lawyer, has to live down to the dignity of his profession, and unless he hangs a man now and again, the Government might think he had no interest in his job at all.“‘Of course,’ ses he, ‘when we think of the number of useless and troublesome people in the world and the few who find their way to the gallows, we should not worry about them, unless they might happen to be some relation of our own. The only time we really take an interest in other people’s troubles is when such troublesaffect ourselves. Nevertheless,’ ses he, ‘this is a rather lengthy digression, so be off with yourself at once to Garret Doran, and tell him his mill must be stopped this very instant.’“Well, the Crown Solicitor went to Garret and told him what the Judge had said, and Garret ordered the mill to be stopped, and the Judge received no further trouble from Garret or his mill while the trial lasted. And when the Assizes were over, the Judge went away, and he didn’t return again for five years. But when he was sitting on the Bench again for himself, passing sentence of death on more patriots, who should walk up to him but Garret himself, and he dressed in his Sunday clothes? And without as much as saying: ‘Good-morrow, how are you,’ or ‘Go to the devil inself,’ he up and hands him a large sealed envelope. And when Patcheen the Piper opened and read the note it contained, his face turned scarlet, and he jumped up from his throne of plush and gold trimmings, and ses: ‘What the blue blazes is the meaning of all this?’ ses he.“‘Don’t get excited, whatever you’ll do,’ sesGarret. ‘’Tis nothing more nor less than a bill for the expenses incurred by closing down my mill at your instigation some five years ago.’“For a while the Judge said nothing at all, but kept looking hard at Garret, and then all of a sudden ses he: ‘Why, in the name of all the descendants of Julius Cæsar and Brian Boru in America, didn’t you start the mill going after I left the city?’“‘You never told me to do so,’ ses Garret. ‘And if I did start it without your permission, I might have been sent to gaol for five hundred years or more.’“‘Well,’ ses the Judge, ‘I’m sorry I can’t send you to a warmer place than gaol to punish you for fooling me in such a successful manner. Why, man alive,’ ses he, ‘your conduct is preposterous; in fact, ’tis worse, because ’tis ridiculous as well.’“‘’Tis the incongruity of things that makes a living for most of us,’ ses Garret. ‘And only a fool would get angry about anything. Anyway,’ ses he, ‘I don’t care a traneen what happens to you, so long as I will get what is coming to me.’“‘Bedad,’ ses the Judge, ‘in spite of all our old talk, that seems to be the beginning and end of human ambition. We all like to get as much as we can for nothing, and give as little as possible in return.’“But to finish my story, the case was taken from the high courts to the low courts, and from the low courts back again to the high courts, and between the jigs and the reels, so to speak, Garret got his money, and Patcheen the Piper never asked any one to stop a mill again.”“That’s the devil’s own queer yarn,” said Padna. “If we all had to wait until we were told what to do, we wouldn’t do anything at all.”“We wouldn’t,” agreed Micus.

A Bargain of Bargains

A blue haze hung on the distant hills when Padna Dan looked pensively from the landscape to his watch, and said to his friend Micus Pat, who stood by his side: “The world is surely a wonderful and a beautiful place as well; but it would seem as though there were wings on the feet of time, so quickly does night follow day.”“Time is the barque that carries us from the cradle to the grave, and leaves us on the shores of the other world alone,” said Padna. “And as my poor mother used to say:Time, like youth, will have its fling,And of a beggar make a king;And of a king a beggar make,Merely for a joke’s sake.Time indeed brings many changes. Cromwell made peasants of the Irish gentry, and America made gentry of the Irish peasantry, and awful snobs some of them became too! But a whit for snobbery, for what is it but an adjunct of prosperity, like gout, which disappears again with adversity.”“Snobbery at best is a foolish thing,” said Micus.“But when we consider the unimportance of our own troubles, and the importance of the principal parts of the British Empire, such as Ireland, England, Scotland, Australia and T. P. O’Connor, our insignificance looms up before our gaze, and almost strikes us in the face, so to speak.”“And ’tis surprising it doesn’t obliterate us altogether,” said Padna. “However, let us forget Tay Pay O’Connor for a little while, as he will never do so himself, and I will tell you a story about one Cormac McShane from the townland of Ballinderry.”“On with the story; I am always glad to hear tell of some one worth talking about,” said Micus.“Well,” said Padna, “Cormac was as fine a looking man as ever broke his promises. And unless you had great astuteness of observation, and an eye like a hawk or a landlady, you wouldn’t see the likes of him in a twelvemonth, even though you might be gallivanting through the streets every day. And while nature treated him rather well, for the poor man he was, Dame Fortune seemed to have ignored him altogether, until he took his fate in his own hands, and then things began to improve. But to make a short story as long as I can, like the journalists and modern novelists, one day while Cormac was sitting in a barber’s chair, having his hair cut and trying to forget what the barber was talking about, a bright idea came to him as he caught a glimpse of himself in the looking-glass, and lo and behold! without saying a word, he jumped up and stood on his two feet, and the poor barber got so excited that he cut a piece off the top of his right ear. Cormac wasn’t the least displeased, because he always thought that his ears were too long, so then and there he told the barber to cut a piece about thesame length off his other ear, so that they would both look nice and even. And when his wishes were complied with, he thanked the barber, and then he up and ses to himself: ‘Cormac McShane,’ ses he, ‘I never before thought you were such a good-looking fellow. Sure the King of Spain or the Emperor of China would feel as proud as a peacock to have a countenance like yours. Yet,’ ses he, ‘isn’t it a strange thing that one so handsome, and modest likewise, and with such a splendid appetite, and a taste for good things in general, should be compelled by stress of circumstances to live on pigs’ heads, and tough cabbage, and no change at all in your dietary but salt conger eels on Fridays. Why,’ ses he, ‘a man with your appreciation should have plenty of the choice things of life, and never know the want of anything. What, might I ask,’ ses he, ‘has the world achieved by all the books that have been written, and all the charity sermons that have been preached, when you, Cormac McShane, couldn’t go from Cork to Dublin unless you borrowed the money, and it might be as hard for you toborrow it, as ‘twould be for yourself to lend it to another.’“That’s good sound talk,” said Micus. “Go on with the story, and don’t let any one interrupt you.”“‘Now,’ ses Cormac, ‘If every one in the whole world from Peru to Clonakilty would only give you a halfpenny each, and no one would miss such a trifle, you would be the richest man alive, and then you needn’t give a traneen about any one. But, of course,’ ses he, ‘that would be too much originality to expect from the bewildered inhabitants of the globe, moreover,’ ses he, ‘when we consider that the majority of people are always trying to get something for nothing, themselves.”“He had the temperament of a millionaire,” said Micus.“Indeed, he had, and the ingenuity of the tinkers, who would charge for putting a patch on a skillet where there was no hole at all,” said Padna. “‘However,’ ses Cormac to himself, ‘there’s nothing like money, no matter how it may have been earned, and every man should be hisown counsellor, because the little we know about each other only leads us into confusion and chaos. Now,’ ses he, ‘very few ever became wealthy by hard work alone, and you, Cormac McShane, must think of some scheme by which you can become rich, and all of a sudden too.’ And so he exercised his brains for about a month, and kept thinking and thinking, until finally he managed to capture an idea that he found straying among all the wild fancies that ever kept buzzing about in his head. And he was so pleased and delighted that he ses to himself: ‘Cormac,’ ses he, ‘there isn’t another man alive who could think of such a short cut to wealth, health, and happiness, and as a mark of my appreciation, I will now treat you to whatever you may want, provided, of course, that it won’t cost more than one shilling. A shilling is enough to spend on any one at a time, unless you are sure of getting two shillings, worth in return. And extravagance is nearly as bad as economy, when it isn’t used to advantage.’”“And what was the brilliant idea that inspiredsuch generosity?” said Micus. “Was it the way he made up his mind to dress himself as a duke, and go to America and marry some heiress who couldn’t tell a duke from a professional plausible humbug?”“It wasn’t anything as commonplace as that,” said Padna.“What was it then?” said Micus.“‘I’m going to raffle myself at a guinea a ticket,’ ses he. ‘And if I will sell five hundred, I will have enough to buy a small farm. That would give me a real start in life, and after I have what I want, discontent is possible.’ And then and there, he got his photo printed on a card, on which was written:‘A Bargain of BargainsTo be raffled, and drawn for, on St. Swithin’s eve, at the Black Cock Tavern, one Cormac McShane. He stands five feet six inches in his stocking vamps, black hair, blue eyes, an easy disposition, and no poor relations. A limited numberof tickets, to wit, five hundred, will be sold at one guinea each, to widows without children, of less than three score and five.’”“Well,” said Micus, “the devil be in it, but that was the most extraordinary way I ever heard of a man looking for a wife with a fortune. And why did he make the stipulation that only widows were eligible?”“Because widows are always less extravagant than single women, and they know how to humour a man better, when he has lost his temper.”“And how many tickets did he sell?” asked Micus.“Every single one, and he could have sold as many more, only he hadn’t them printed,” said Padna.“And that was how Cormac McShane got a wife, or how a wife got him, if you will?” said Micus.“Yes,” said Padna, “and while the money lasted, Cormac was the happiest man in the country.”“Now,” said Micus, “if Cormac McShane was a wise man, Garret Doran was another.”“How so?” said Padna. “Was it the way he always kept his mouth shut until he had something to say?”“Not exactly,” said Micus. “But he could do that too, when it pleased him. Garret was a miller, who kept a mill near the courthouse, so one day when the famous judge, Patcheen the Piper, as he was called, was sitting on the Bench, passing sentence on a batch of patriots who were to be hanged, drawn, and quartered, for no other offence than loving a country that never did anything for them better than they loved themselves, a great noise was heard, and the Judge was so annoyed at being disturbed that he stopped short in the middle of the death sentence and ses, at the top of his voice:“‘What hullaballoo is that I hear? And who dares make any noise at all, and interfere with my amusement?’ ses he. ‘If I will hear another sound, I’ll order every one within a radius of five miles to be boiled in turpentine, and sealedup in tin cans, and have them shipped to the King of the Cannibal Islands, as a Christmas box from the people of generous Ireland,’ ses he.“‘Oh,’ ses the Crown Solicitor, ‘that’s only Garret Doran’s mill grinding corn for the poor people.’“‘The poor people!’ ses the Judge in a rage. ‘Who the devil cares a traneen about the poor but the politicians when they want to get their votes, the kings and emperors when they want them to go to the wars, or the clergy when they are preaching charity sermons for the benefit of the inhabitants of Central Africa? And who will deny that those cannibals wouldn’t be better off if they were left alone? Nevertheless, ’tis only fair to state that they have just as much appreciation of decency and kindness as the best of ourselves. But be all that as it may, go and tell Garret Doran to stop his mill at once, and if he don’t obey your orders, bring him here before me, and I’ll order him to be hanged with these poor fools of patriots who have done less to annoy me than he has. And hanging patriots, if youhaven’t a conscience, is as good a way of making a living, as starving your employees to death, like some of the pious-faced rascals who have the impudence to invite myself to dine with them. Not indeed, that the likes of me wants a dinner or a meal of food from any one. The poor, who can’t afford a square meal more than once in the year, are never invited to partake of the hospitality of those who give dinners to those who don’t need them. But why should I bother about anything in a world like this, where everything is in such a hopeless state of confusion? Howsomever, a judge, like a lawyer, has to live down to the dignity of his profession, and unless he hangs a man now and again, the Government might think he had no interest in his job at all.“‘Of course,’ ses he, ‘when we think of the number of useless and troublesome people in the world and the few who find their way to the gallows, we should not worry about them, unless they might happen to be some relation of our own. The only time we really take an interest in other people’s troubles is when such troublesaffect ourselves. Nevertheless,’ ses he, ‘this is a rather lengthy digression, so be off with yourself at once to Garret Doran, and tell him his mill must be stopped this very instant.’“Well, the Crown Solicitor went to Garret and told him what the Judge had said, and Garret ordered the mill to be stopped, and the Judge received no further trouble from Garret or his mill while the trial lasted. And when the Assizes were over, the Judge went away, and he didn’t return again for five years. But when he was sitting on the Bench again for himself, passing sentence of death on more patriots, who should walk up to him but Garret himself, and he dressed in his Sunday clothes? And without as much as saying: ‘Good-morrow, how are you,’ or ‘Go to the devil inself,’ he up and hands him a large sealed envelope. And when Patcheen the Piper opened and read the note it contained, his face turned scarlet, and he jumped up from his throne of plush and gold trimmings, and ses: ‘What the blue blazes is the meaning of all this?’ ses he.“‘Don’t get excited, whatever you’ll do,’ sesGarret. ‘’Tis nothing more nor less than a bill for the expenses incurred by closing down my mill at your instigation some five years ago.’“For a while the Judge said nothing at all, but kept looking hard at Garret, and then all of a sudden ses he: ‘Why, in the name of all the descendants of Julius Cæsar and Brian Boru in America, didn’t you start the mill going after I left the city?’“‘You never told me to do so,’ ses Garret. ‘And if I did start it without your permission, I might have been sent to gaol for five hundred years or more.’“‘Well,’ ses the Judge, ‘I’m sorry I can’t send you to a warmer place than gaol to punish you for fooling me in such a successful manner. Why, man alive,’ ses he, ‘your conduct is preposterous; in fact, ’tis worse, because ’tis ridiculous as well.’“‘’Tis the incongruity of things that makes a living for most of us,’ ses Garret. ‘And only a fool would get angry about anything. Anyway,’ ses he, ‘I don’t care a traneen what happens to you, so long as I will get what is coming to me.’“‘Bedad,’ ses the Judge, ‘in spite of all our old talk, that seems to be the beginning and end of human ambition. We all like to get as much as we can for nothing, and give as little as possible in return.’“But to finish my story, the case was taken from the high courts to the low courts, and from the low courts back again to the high courts, and between the jigs and the reels, so to speak, Garret got his money, and Patcheen the Piper never asked any one to stop a mill again.”“That’s the devil’s own queer yarn,” said Padna. “If we all had to wait until we were told what to do, we wouldn’t do anything at all.”“We wouldn’t,” agreed Micus.

A blue haze hung on the distant hills when Padna Dan looked pensively from the landscape to his watch, and said to his friend Micus Pat, who stood by his side: “The world is surely a wonderful and a beautiful place as well; but it would seem as though there were wings on the feet of time, so quickly does night follow day.”

“Time is the barque that carries us from the cradle to the grave, and leaves us on the shores of the other world alone,” said Padna. “And as my poor mother used to say:

Time, like youth, will have its fling,And of a beggar make a king;And of a king a beggar make,Merely for a joke’s sake.

Time, like youth, will have its fling,

And of a beggar make a king;

And of a king a beggar make,

Merely for a joke’s sake.

Time indeed brings many changes. Cromwell made peasants of the Irish gentry, and America made gentry of the Irish peasantry, and awful snobs some of them became too! But a whit for snobbery, for what is it but an adjunct of prosperity, like gout, which disappears again with adversity.”

“Snobbery at best is a foolish thing,” said Micus.

“But when we consider the unimportance of our own troubles, and the importance of the principal parts of the British Empire, such as Ireland, England, Scotland, Australia and T. P. O’Connor, our insignificance looms up before our gaze, and almost strikes us in the face, so to speak.”

“And ’tis surprising it doesn’t obliterate us altogether,” said Padna. “However, let us forget Tay Pay O’Connor for a little while, as he will never do so himself, and I will tell you a story about one Cormac McShane from the townland of Ballinderry.”

“On with the story; I am always glad to hear tell of some one worth talking about,” said Micus.

“Well,” said Padna, “Cormac was as fine a looking man as ever broke his promises. And unless you had great astuteness of observation, and an eye like a hawk or a landlady, you wouldn’t see the likes of him in a twelvemonth, even though you might be gallivanting through the streets every day. And while nature treated him rather well, for the poor man he was, Dame Fortune seemed to have ignored him altogether, until he took his fate in his own hands, and then things began to improve. But to make a short story as long as I can, like the journalists and modern novelists, one day while Cormac was sitting in a barber’s chair, having his hair cut and trying to forget what the barber was talking about, a bright idea came to him as he caught a glimpse of himself in the looking-glass, and lo and behold! without saying a word, he jumped up and stood on his two feet, and the poor barber got so excited that he cut a piece off the top of his right ear. Cormac wasn’t the least displeased, because he always thought that his ears were too long, so then and there he told the barber to cut a piece about thesame length off his other ear, so that they would both look nice and even. And when his wishes were complied with, he thanked the barber, and then he up and ses to himself: ‘Cormac McShane,’ ses he, ‘I never before thought you were such a good-looking fellow. Sure the King of Spain or the Emperor of China would feel as proud as a peacock to have a countenance like yours. Yet,’ ses he, ‘isn’t it a strange thing that one so handsome, and modest likewise, and with such a splendid appetite, and a taste for good things in general, should be compelled by stress of circumstances to live on pigs’ heads, and tough cabbage, and no change at all in your dietary but salt conger eels on Fridays. Why,’ ses he, ‘a man with your appreciation should have plenty of the choice things of life, and never know the want of anything. What, might I ask,’ ses he, ‘has the world achieved by all the books that have been written, and all the charity sermons that have been preached, when you, Cormac McShane, couldn’t go from Cork to Dublin unless you borrowed the money, and it might be as hard for you toborrow it, as ‘twould be for yourself to lend it to another.’

“That’s good sound talk,” said Micus. “Go on with the story, and don’t let any one interrupt you.”

“‘Now,’ ses Cormac, ‘If every one in the whole world from Peru to Clonakilty would only give you a halfpenny each, and no one would miss such a trifle, you would be the richest man alive, and then you needn’t give a traneen about any one. But, of course,’ ses he, ‘that would be too much originality to expect from the bewildered inhabitants of the globe, moreover,’ ses he, ‘when we consider that the majority of people are always trying to get something for nothing, themselves.”

“He had the temperament of a millionaire,” said Micus.

“Indeed, he had, and the ingenuity of the tinkers, who would charge for putting a patch on a skillet where there was no hole at all,” said Padna. “‘However,’ ses Cormac to himself, ‘there’s nothing like money, no matter how it may have been earned, and every man should be hisown counsellor, because the little we know about each other only leads us into confusion and chaos. Now,’ ses he, ‘very few ever became wealthy by hard work alone, and you, Cormac McShane, must think of some scheme by which you can become rich, and all of a sudden too.’ And so he exercised his brains for about a month, and kept thinking and thinking, until finally he managed to capture an idea that he found straying among all the wild fancies that ever kept buzzing about in his head. And he was so pleased and delighted that he ses to himself: ‘Cormac,’ ses he, ‘there isn’t another man alive who could think of such a short cut to wealth, health, and happiness, and as a mark of my appreciation, I will now treat you to whatever you may want, provided, of course, that it won’t cost more than one shilling. A shilling is enough to spend on any one at a time, unless you are sure of getting two shillings, worth in return. And extravagance is nearly as bad as economy, when it isn’t used to advantage.’”

“And what was the brilliant idea that inspiredsuch generosity?” said Micus. “Was it the way he made up his mind to dress himself as a duke, and go to America and marry some heiress who couldn’t tell a duke from a professional plausible humbug?”

“It wasn’t anything as commonplace as that,” said Padna.

“What was it then?” said Micus.

“‘I’m going to raffle myself at a guinea a ticket,’ ses he. ‘And if I will sell five hundred, I will have enough to buy a small farm. That would give me a real start in life, and after I have what I want, discontent is possible.’ And then and there, he got his photo printed on a card, on which was written:

‘A Bargain of BargainsTo be raffled, and drawn for, on St. Swithin’s eve, at the Black Cock Tavern, one Cormac McShane. He stands five feet six inches in his stocking vamps, black hair, blue eyes, an easy disposition, and no poor relations. A limited numberof tickets, to wit, five hundred, will be sold at one guinea each, to widows without children, of less than three score and five.’”

‘A Bargain of Bargains

To be raffled, and drawn for, on St. Swithin’s eve, at the Black Cock Tavern, one Cormac McShane. He stands five feet six inches in his stocking vamps, black hair, blue eyes, an easy disposition, and no poor relations. A limited numberof tickets, to wit, five hundred, will be sold at one guinea each, to widows without children, of less than three score and five.’”

“Well,” said Micus, “the devil be in it, but that was the most extraordinary way I ever heard of a man looking for a wife with a fortune. And why did he make the stipulation that only widows were eligible?”

“Because widows are always less extravagant than single women, and they know how to humour a man better, when he has lost his temper.”

“And how many tickets did he sell?” asked Micus.

“Every single one, and he could have sold as many more, only he hadn’t them printed,” said Padna.

“And that was how Cormac McShane got a wife, or how a wife got him, if you will?” said Micus.

“Yes,” said Padna, “and while the money lasted, Cormac was the happiest man in the country.”

“Now,” said Micus, “if Cormac McShane was a wise man, Garret Doran was another.”

“How so?” said Padna. “Was it the way he always kept his mouth shut until he had something to say?”

“Not exactly,” said Micus. “But he could do that too, when it pleased him. Garret was a miller, who kept a mill near the courthouse, so one day when the famous judge, Patcheen the Piper, as he was called, was sitting on the Bench, passing sentence on a batch of patriots who were to be hanged, drawn, and quartered, for no other offence than loving a country that never did anything for them better than they loved themselves, a great noise was heard, and the Judge was so annoyed at being disturbed that he stopped short in the middle of the death sentence and ses, at the top of his voice:

“‘What hullaballoo is that I hear? And who dares make any noise at all, and interfere with my amusement?’ ses he. ‘If I will hear another sound, I’ll order every one within a radius of five miles to be boiled in turpentine, and sealedup in tin cans, and have them shipped to the King of the Cannibal Islands, as a Christmas box from the people of generous Ireland,’ ses he.

“‘Oh,’ ses the Crown Solicitor, ‘that’s only Garret Doran’s mill grinding corn for the poor people.’

“‘The poor people!’ ses the Judge in a rage. ‘Who the devil cares a traneen about the poor but the politicians when they want to get their votes, the kings and emperors when they want them to go to the wars, or the clergy when they are preaching charity sermons for the benefit of the inhabitants of Central Africa? And who will deny that those cannibals wouldn’t be better off if they were left alone? Nevertheless, ’tis only fair to state that they have just as much appreciation of decency and kindness as the best of ourselves. But be all that as it may, go and tell Garret Doran to stop his mill at once, and if he don’t obey your orders, bring him here before me, and I’ll order him to be hanged with these poor fools of patriots who have done less to annoy me than he has. And hanging patriots, if youhaven’t a conscience, is as good a way of making a living, as starving your employees to death, like some of the pious-faced rascals who have the impudence to invite myself to dine with them. Not indeed, that the likes of me wants a dinner or a meal of food from any one. The poor, who can’t afford a square meal more than once in the year, are never invited to partake of the hospitality of those who give dinners to those who don’t need them. But why should I bother about anything in a world like this, where everything is in such a hopeless state of confusion? Howsomever, a judge, like a lawyer, has to live down to the dignity of his profession, and unless he hangs a man now and again, the Government might think he had no interest in his job at all.

“‘Of course,’ ses he, ‘when we think of the number of useless and troublesome people in the world and the few who find their way to the gallows, we should not worry about them, unless they might happen to be some relation of our own. The only time we really take an interest in other people’s troubles is when such troublesaffect ourselves. Nevertheless,’ ses he, ‘this is a rather lengthy digression, so be off with yourself at once to Garret Doran, and tell him his mill must be stopped this very instant.’

“Well, the Crown Solicitor went to Garret and told him what the Judge had said, and Garret ordered the mill to be stopped, and the Judge received no further trouble from Garret or his mill while the trial lasted. And when the Assizes were over, the Judge went away, and he didn’t return again for five years. But when he was sitting on the Bench again for himself, passing sentence of death on more patriots, who should walk up to him but Garret himself, and he dressed in his Sunday clothes? And without as much as saying: ‘Good-morrow, how are you,’ or ‘Go to the devil inself,’ he up and hands him a large sealed envelope. And when Patcheen the Piper opened and read the note it contained, his face turned scarlet, and he jumped up from his throne of plush and gold trimmings, and ses: ‘What the blue blazes is the meaning of all this?’ ses he.

“‘Don’t get excited, whatever you’ll do,’ sesGarret. ‘’Tis nothing more nor less than a bill for the expenses incurred by closing down my mill at your instigation some five years ago.’

“For a while the Judge said nothing at all, but kept looking hard at Garret, and then all of a sudden ses he: ‘Why, in the name of all the descendants of Julius Cæsar and Brian Boru in America, didn’t you start the mill going after I left the city?’

“‘You never told me to do so,’ ses Garret. ‘And if I did start it without your permission, I might have been sent to gaol for five hundred years or more.’

“‘Well,’ ses the Judge, ‘I’m sorry I can’t send you to a warmer place than gaol to punish you for fooling me in such a successful manner. Why, man alive,’ ses he, ‘your conduct is preposterous; in fact, ’tis worse, because ’tis ridiculous as well.’

“‘’Tis the incongruity of things that makes a living for most of us,’ ses Garret. ‘And only a fool would get angry about anything. Anyway,’ ses he, ‘I don’t care a traneen what happens to you, so long as I will get what is coming to me.’

“‘Bedad,’ ses the Judge, ‘in spite of all our old talk, that seems to be the beginning and end of human ambition. We all like to get as much as we can for nothing, and give as little as possible in return.’

“But to finish my story, the case was taken from the high courts to the low courts, and from the low courts back again to the high courts, and between the jigs and the reels, so to speak, Garret got his money, and Patcheen the Piper never asked any one to stop a mill again.”

“That’s the devil’s own queer yarn,” said Padna. “If we all had to wait until we were told what to do, we wouldn’t do anything at all.”

“We wouldn’t,” agreed Micus.

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