Humours of Irish Life Part 50
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"Do ye see that pin-head? Now take a good look at it."
Again the sore-eyed indicates accurate observation.
"Well, not a pick more nor that, if ye want to keep your eyesight."
Other quant.i.tative directions were given in "fulls"--"the full o' yer fist," "the full o' an egg-cup," even "the full o' yer mooth." Or, by sizes of objects, as, "the size o' a pay," "the size o' a marble." Or by coin areas, "what'll lie on a sixpence," or on a s.h.i.+lling, or on a penny. Or by money values, as in the Hickery Pickery prescription.
Fists, peas, marbles vary considerably in size, and in the case of money-values a change of chemist might mean a considerable variation in quant.i.ty; but, with the possible exception of "Lodelum," prescribed in drops, the quant.i.ties of the good woman's remedies bore variation to a considerable extent without serious difference in result. That "the best sperrits" were so frequently the medium for "exhibition" of her remedies may account for the great popularity with adults which these remedies enjoyed. These were the days when hospitality was not hospitality without "sperrits" free from medicinal addition, and, late in the afternoon, Mrs. Moloney was accustomed to accept graciously "the full o'
an egg-cup," qualified by the addition of sugar and hot water. Once, while sipping her punch, she asked that a little should be given to me as a treat, and when the pungent spirit, in the unaccustomed throat, produced a cough, she promptly diagnosed "a wake chist."
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Erysipelas.
[2] Tic douloureux.
[3] Red Precipitate--red oxide of mercury.
The Meet of the Beagles.
_From "Patsy."_
BY H. DE VERE STACPOOLE.
Directly Patsy had left the news that the "quality" were coming to the meet and returned to the house the crowd in front of the Castle Knock Inn thickened.
Word of the impending event went from cabin to cabin, and Mr. Mahony, the chimney sweep, put his head out of his door.
"What's the news, Rafferty?" cried Mr. Mahony.
"Mimber of Parlymint and all the quality comin' to the meet!" cried a ragged-looking ruffian who was running by.
"Sure, it'll be a big day for Shan Finucane," said Mrs. Mahony, who was standing behind her husband in the doorway with a baby in her arms.
Mr. Mahony said nothing for a while, but watched the crowd in front of the inn.
"Look at him," said Mr. Mahony, breaking out at last--"look at him in his ould green coat! Look at him with the ould whip undher his arm, and the boots on his feet not paid for, and him struttin' about as if he was the Marqus of Waterford! Holy Mary! did yiz ever see such an objick! Mr.
Mullins!"
"Halloo!" replied Mr. Mullins, the cobbler across the way, who, with his window open owing to the mildness of the weather, was whaling away at a shoe-sole, the only busy man in the village.
"Did y' hear the news?"
"What news?"
"Shan's going to get a new coat."
"Faith, thin, I hope he'll pay first for his ould shoes."
"How much does he owe you?"
"Siven and six--bad cess to him!"
"He'll pay you to-night, if he doesn't drink the money first, for there's a Mimber of Parlymint goin' to the meet, and he'll most like put a suverin in the poor box."
Mr. Mullins made no reply, but went on whaling away at his shoe, and Bob Mahony, having stepped into his cottage for a light for his pipe, came back and took up his post again at the door.
The crowd round the inn was growing bigger and bigger. Sneer as he might, Mr. Mahony could not but perceive that Shan was having the centre of the stage, a wors.h.i.+pping audience, and free drinks.
Suddenly he turned to his offspring, who were crowding behind him, and singling out Billy, the eldest:
"Put the dunkey to," said Mr. Mahony.
"Sure, daddy," cried the boy in astonishment, "it's only the tarriers."
"Put the dunkey to!" thundered his father, "or it's the end of me belt I'll be brightenin' your intellects with."
"There's two big bags of sut in the cart and the brushes," said Billy, as he made off to do as he was bidden.
"Lave them in," said Mr. Mahony; "it's only the tarriers."
In a few minutes the donkey, whose harness was primitive and composed mainly of rope, was put to, and the vehicle was at the door.
"Bob!" cried his wife as he took his seat.
"What is it?" asked Mr Mahony, taking the reins.
"Won't you be afther givin' your face the lick of a tow'l?"
"It's only the tarriers," replied Mr. Mahony; "sure, I'm clane enough for them. Come up wid you, Norah."
Norah, the small donkey, whose ears had been c.o.c.king this way and that, picked up her feet, and the vehicle, which was not much bigger than a costermonger's barrow, started.
At this moment, also, Shan and the dogs and the crowd were getting into motion, making down the road for Glen Druid gates.
"Hulloo! hulloo! hulloo!" cried Mr. Mahony, as he rattled up behind in the cart, "where are yiz off to?"
"The meet of the baygles," replied twenty voices; whilst Shan, who had heard his enemy's voice, stalked on, surrounded by his dogs, his old, battered hunting horn in one hand, and his whip under his arm.
"And where are they going to meet?" asked Mr. Mahony.
"Glen Druid gate," replied the camp followers. "There's a Mimber of Parlymint comin', and all the quality from the Big House."
"Faith," said Mr. Mahony, "I thought there was somethin' up, for, by the look of Shan, as he pa.s.sed me house this mornin', I thought he'd swallowed the Lord Liftinant, Crown jew'ls and all. Hulloo! hulloo!
Humours of Irish Life Part 50
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Humours of Irish Life Part 50 summary
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