"'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 full of 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 sometimes as 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 dark nights 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 some people, 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
own murder 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 found it 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, and the 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
at the 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 wilds
of 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."