Phil Purcel, The Pig-Driver; The Geography Of An Irish Oath; The Lianhan Shee Part 19

He's a dacent ould residenther, an' likes it. It'll make the baker's or the long dozen."

"Why, it's not a bad thought; but won't thirteen get into your head?"

"No, nor three more to the back o' that. I only begin to get hearty about seventeen, so that the long dozen, afther all, is best; for--G.o.d he knows, I've a regard for Owen Smith this many a year, an' I wouldn't wish to lave him out."

"Very well,--I'll add it up to the other part of the oath.

'Octavo--One ditto out of respect for dacent Owen Smith, of Lisbuy, 1

Now I must make the total amount thirteen, an' all will be right."

"Masther, have you a prayer-book widin?--bekase if you have, I may as well swear here, and you can witness it."

"Katty, hand over the Spiritual Exercises--a book aquil to the Bible itself for piety an' devotion."

"Sure they say, Masther, any book that, the name o' G.o.d's in, is good for an oath. Now, wid the help o' goodness, repate the words afore me, an' I'll sware thim."

O'Flaherty hemmed two or three times, and complied with Peter's wishes, who followed him in the words until the oath was concluded. He then kissed the book, and expressed himself much at ease, as well, he said, upon the account of Ellish's soul, as for the sake of his children.

For some time after this, his oath was the standing jest of the neighborhood: even to this day, Peter Connell's oath against liquor is a proverb in that part of the country. Immediately after he had sworn, no one could ever perceive that he violated it in the slightest degree; indeed there could be no doubt as to literally fulfilling it. A day never pa.s.sed in which he did not punctually pay a visit to those whose names wore dotted down, with whom he sat, pulled out his flask, and drank his quantum. In the meantime the poor man was breaking down rapidly; so much so, that his appearance generally excited pity, if not sorrow, among his neighbors. His character became simpler every day, and his intellect evidently more exhausted. The inoffensive humor, for which he had been noted, was also completely on the wane; his eye waxed dim, his step feeble, but the benevolence of his heart never failed him. Many acts of his private generosity are well known, and still remembered with grat.i.tude.

In proportion as the strength of his mind and const.i.tution diminished, so did his capacity for bearing liquor. When he first bound himself by the oath not to exceed the long dozen, such was his vigor, that the effects of thirteen tumblers could scarcely be perceived on him. This state of health, however, did not last. As he wore away, the influence of so much liquor was becoming stronger, until at length he found that it was more than he could bear, that he frequently confounded the names of the men, and the number of tumblers mentioned in the oath, and sometimes took in, in his route, persons and places not to be found in it at all. This grieved him, and he resolved to wait upon O'Flaherty for the purpose of having some means devised of guiding him during his potations.

"Masther," said he, "we must thry an' make this oath somethin' plainer.

You see when I get confused, I'm not able to remimber things as I ought.

Sometimes, instid o' one tumbler, I take two at the wrong place; an'

sarra bit o' me but called in an' had three wid ould Jack Rogers, that isn't in it at all. On another day I had a couple wid honest Barney Casey, an my way acra.s.s to Bartle Gorman's. I'm not what I was, Masther, ahagm; so I'd thank you to dhraw it out more clearer, if you can, nor it was."

"I see, Mr. Connell; I comprehend wid the greatest ase in life, the very plan for it. We must reduce the oath to Geography, for I'm at home there, bein' a Surveyor myself. I'll lay down a map o' the parish, an'

draw the houses of your friends at their proper places, so that you'll never be out o' your lat.i.tude at all."

"Faix, I doubt that, Masther--ha, ha, ha!" replied Peter; "I'm afeard I will, of an odd time, for I'm not able to carry what I used to do; but no matther: thry what you can do for me this time, any how. I think I could bear the long dozen still if I didn't make mistakes."

O'Flaherty accordingly set himself to work; and as his knowledge, not only of the parish, but of every person and house in it, was accurate, he soon had a tolerably correct skeleton map of it drawn for Peter's use.

"Now," said he, "lend me your ears."

"Faix, I'll do no sich thing," replied Peter--"I know a thrick worth two of it. Lend you my ears, inagh!--catch me at it! You have a bigger pair of your own nor I have--ha, ha, ha!"

"Well, in other words, pay attintion. Now, see this dot--that's your own house."

"Put a cra.s.s there," said Peter, "an' thin I'll know it's the Cra.s.s-roads."

"Upon my reputation, you're right; an' that's what I call a good specimen of ingenuity. I'll take the hint from that, an' we'll make it a Hieroglyphical as well as a Geographical oath. Well, there's a cra.s.s, wid two tumblers. Is that clear?"

"It is, it is! faix"

"Now here we draw a line to your son Dan's. Let me see; he keeps a mill, an' sells cloth. Very good. I'll dhraw a mill-wheel an' a yard-wand.

There's two tumblers. Will you know that?"

"I see it: go an, nothin' can be clearer. So far, I can't go asthray."

"Well, what next? Two behind your own garden. What metaphor for the garden? Let me see!--let me cogitate! A dragon--the Hesperides! That's beyant you. A bit of a hedge will do, an' a gate."

"Don't put a gate in, it's not lucky. You know, when a man takes to dhrink, they say he's goin' a gray gate, or a black gate, or a bad gate. Put that out, an' make the hedge longer, an' it'll do--wid the two tumblers, though."

"They're down. One at the Reverend Father Mulcahy's. How will we thranslate the priest?"

"Faix, I doubt that will be a difficquilt business."

"Upon my reputation, I agree wid you in that, especially whin he repates Latin. However, we'll see. He writes P.P. afther his name;--pee-pee is what we call the turkeys wid. What 'ud you think o' two turkeys?"

"The priest would like them roasted, but I couldn't undherstand that.

No; put down the sign o' the horsewhip, or the cudgel; for he's handy, an' argues well wid both?"

"Good! I'll put down the horsewhip first, an' the cudgel alongside of it; then the tumbler, an' there'll be the sign o' the priest."

"Ay, do, Masther, an' faix the priest 'll be complate--there can be no mistakin' him thin. Divil a one but that's a good thought!"

"There it is in black an' white. Who comes next? Frank M'Carroll. He's a farmer. I'll put down a spade an' a harrow. Well, that's done--two tumblers."

"I won't mistake that, aither. It's clear enough."

"Bartle Gorman's of Cargah. Bartle's a little lame, an' uses a staff wid a cross on the end that he houlds in his hand. I'll put down a staff wid a cross on it."

"Would there be no danger of me mistakin' that for the priest's cudgel?"

"Divil the slightest. I'll pledge my knowledge of geography, they're two very different weapons."

"Well, put it down--I'll know it."

"Roger M'Gaugy of Nurchasy. What for him? Roger's a pig-driver. I'll put down pig. You'll comprehend that?"

"I ought; for many a pig I sould in my day. Put down the pig; an' if you could put two black spots upon his back, I'd know it to be one I sould him about four years agone--the fattest ever was in the country--it had to be brought home on a car, for it wasn't able to walk wid fat."

"Very good; the spots are on it. The last is Owen Smith of Lisbuy. Now, do you see that I've drawn a line from place to place, so that you have nothing to do only to keep to it as you go. What for Owen?"

"Owen! Let me see--Owen! Pooh! What's come over me, that I've nothin'

for Owen? Ah! I have it. He's a horse-jockey: put down a gray mare I sould him about five years agone."

"I'll put down a horse; but I can't make a gray mare wid black ink."

"Well, make a mare of her, any way."

"Faith, an' that same puzzles me. Stop, I have it; I'll put a foal along wid her."

"As good as the bank. G.o.d bless you, Misther O'Flaherty. I think this 'll keep me from mistakes. An' now, if you'll slip up to me afther dusk, I'll send you down a couple o' bottles and a flitch. Sure you desarve more for the throuble you tuck."

Many of our readers, particularly of our English readers, will be somewhat startled to hear that, except the change of names and places, there is actually little exaggeration in the form of this oath; so just is the observation, that the romance of truth frequently exceeds that of fiction.