Irish Folk Tales (28 page)

“Well,” he says, “that’s a fine young fellow.”

And he moved down and he says:

“There’d be no chance,” he says, “that you’d be a young man looking for work?”

“Well,” says he, “I’m in the fair all day and no man asked me would you hire me. I’ll definitely hire with you surely. I’m short of a few quid and I’ll definitely hire with you.”

They made a bargain there and then.

“We’ll have another couple of bottles of stout.”

So, he had a horse and trap. So they filed off and home. And when he came home—aw, sure, the wife was all delighted, all lit up.

“Well, that’s a great job, John. You brought a young man to do a bit of work, a spot of work for you. You’re getting old, and sure you’re not able to do it yourself. Well, I’m delighted that you have a young man.”

Well, there was cattle, there was cows to be foddered and cows to be milked. The young fellow and him went out and they foddered the cattle and they done the whole work, out in the farmyard. When they came back in again she had two big blue duck eggs for John and for the young fellow. And she had a big fadge cake in the press and she took it out, sawed it up, and had a great big heap of bread on the table.

So, John went out to do something else, to give a calf a drink or something.

“Now,” she says to the young fellow, she says, “we have no family. And only one bed. And if you wouldn’t mind you could share the bed with me and John.”

“Wouldn’t I sleep in an old chair there at the fire; it’ll do me rightly for the night.”

“Throt you’ll not sleep at the fire; if you don’t mind you’ll share the bed with me and John.”

“I don’t mind where I sleep for the night.”

“All right.”

John came back in, when he had the calf fed, or whatever he was doing. So when ten o’clock came they all filed into bed. The young fellow fellow went in at the wall, and John in the center, and her ladyship out at the stalk. And sometime in the middle of the night a cow give a big loo in the byre.

“Go down, John, quick,” she says, “for there’s a cow or something—there’s something wrong. There’s a cow going to calve.”

“Will I bring the young fellow?”

“Let the poor fellow alone; he might be tired. Leave him where he is. If there’s anything wrong you can come back for him.”

So John put on his trousers, threw a coat on him, and went down to the byre; there was a cow sick a-calving. And he hadn’t the latch gone off the door when she tipped the young fellow.

“John is gone down to the byre to see a cow.”

“Will I go down with him?”

“Stay where you are. You’re all right, stay where you are.”

“John … Would John be long away in the byre?”

“He … he’ll be long enough; the byre’s a good bit from the house.”

“Would he be ten minutes?”

“He’ll be long enough.”

“Do you think … would he be fifteen minutes?”

“Won’t he be long enough?”

“God, I’m going to do something …”

“Ah, well do it quick,” she says, “whatever you’re going to do.”

“Bejasus I’ll go down to the kitchen for another slice of thon old cake. I’m starving with hunger.”

T
HE FIRST MIRROR

Well, before it leaves my head now, I’ll tell you something about a pair that lived up thonder. You know in them days, everybody, every man, especially, was out, well, out, any day he could stay out—and some days he couldn’t—he was out digging. Naturally enough, some people’s hands was harder than others and the harder the hand the worse it was, for it cracked up, you know, hacked, bleeding. So mirrors was never used then, they were hardly known, you know, and you were above the ordinary if you had a mirror in the house.

But then this Vaseline box came out then to the relief of the country—Vaseline they got for sore hands. So these old pair got a box and Paddy used to put it on when his hands would be sore. So he come in this day and there were one of his hands bleeding and he says: “Where’s that Vaseline?” So Rosie got him the Vaseline and she says: “All’s in it, take it with you, and if your hands be sore, put it on. They’re not much in it now anyway.”

So Paddy took it with him to the field and after a while he got it and from the first time when he was born, he seen himself in this wee mirror—there was a wee mirror in the lid of the box. I’m sure you seen one of them.

So, this was his father! After all these years he was dead—and that was him! So every now and again when he was smoking, he admired this, admired himself and he thought it was his father in this little mirror.

But Rosie called him in to his tea and he was interested in this and she thought she would see what he was looking at. So that night—she forgot all about it then—they were going to bed. Paddy was away to bed anyway, he was tired and she was ready to go to bed. There were very few nightgowns
at that time, you know. But she minded about this, and she went to Paddy’s purse and she got the Vaseline box.

She was like Paddy—she seen herself for the first time ever. So she left it down and she reached for the tongs and she till Paddy in the bed. She says: “If that’s the sort of an old dame you’re interested in, in soul I’m long enough here!”

So Paddy parleyed with her and said everything would be all right, and he says: “We’ll see in the morning what we’re going to do about it.”

So she got up in the morning and made breakfast and she produced the Vaseline lid. “I think in God’s name,” she says, “we’ll put it in the fire and be done with it.”

“Oh,” he says, “that wouldn’t be right at all, that’s my father.”

“It’s not a bit odds,” she says, “I never seen your father,” says she, “and I suppose I never will. But I’m sure,” she says, “he never had hair and diddies like what I seen on that old dame last night.”

And, naturally enough, when the glass got the heat, it sparked out. “Now,” she says, “didn’t I tell you! Thanks be to God,” she says, “there it is. I told you it was bad from the start.”

R
OBIN’S ESCAPE

There was a man one time went to the market to sell a cow. And he sold her, and he took a drop of drink after. And instead of going home, he went into a sort of a barn where there was straw stored, and he fell asleep there.

And in the night some men came in, and he heard them talking. And they had a lot of silver plate with them, they were after stealing from some house in the town, and they were hiding it in the straw till they would come and bring it away again.

And he said nothing, and kept quiet till morning. And then he went out; and the people in the town were talking of nothing else but the great robbery of silver plate in the night. And no one knew who had done it. And the man came forward, and told them where the silver plate was, and who the men were that stole it. And the things were found, and the men convicted. But he did not let on how he had come to know it, or that he had slept in the barn.

So he got a great name. And when he went home, his landlord heard of it; and he sent for him, and he said: “I am missing things this good while,
and the last thing I lost was a diamond ring. Tell me who was it stole that,” he said. “I can’t tell you,” said the man. “Well,” said the landlord, “I will lock you up in a room for three days. And if you can’t tell me by the end of that time who stole the ring, I’ll put you to death.”

So he was locked up. And in the evening the butler brought him in his supper. And when he saw evening was come, he said: “There’s one of them,” meaning there was one of the three days gone.

But the butler went downstairs in a great fright; for he was one of the servants that had stolen the ring, and he said to the others: “He knew me, and he said, ‘There’s one of them.’ And I won’t go near him again,” he said, “but let one of you go.”

So the next evening the cook went up with the supper, and when she came in, he said the same way as before: “There’s two of them,” meaning there was another day gone. And the cook went down like the butler had gone, making sure he knew that she had a share in the robbery.

The next day the third of the servants—that was the housemaid—brought him his supper. And he gave a great sigh, and said: “There’s the third of them.” So she went down and told the others. And they agreed it was best to make a confession to him. And they went and told him of their robberies. And they brought him the diamond ring; and they asked him to try and screen them some way. So he said he would do his best for them, and he said: “I see a big turkey-gobbler out in the yard, and what you had best do is to open his mouth,” he said, “and to force the ring down it.”

So they did that. And then the landlord came up and asked could he tell him where the thief was to be found. “Kill that turkey-gobbler in the yard,” he said, “and see what can you find in him.” So they killed the turkey-gobbler, and cut him open, and there they found the diamond ring.

Then the landlord gave him great rewards, and everyone in the country heard of him.

And a neighboring gentleman that heard of him said to the landlord: “I’ll make a bet with you that if you bring him to dinner at my house, he won’t be able to tell what is under a cover on the table.” So the landlord brought him; and when he was brought in, they asked him what was in the dish with the cover. And he thought he was done for, and he said: “The fox is caught at last.” And what was under the cover but a fox! So whatever name he had before, he got a three times greater name now.

But another gentleman made the same bet with the landlord. And when they came in to the dinner, there was a dish with a cover, and the man had no notion what was under it; and he said: “Robin’s done this time”—his own name being Robin. And what was there under the cover but a robin! So he got great rewards after that, and he settled down and lived happy ever after.

J
ONATHAN SWIFT, DEAN OF SAINT PATRICK’S CATHEDRAL