_Full, complete, and final Revelation of the Great Garret
Mystery.--Confession of Pat--Indignation of Solomon.--His Speech on
the Occasion.--The Authorities of the School roused.--Pat and the “B. O.
W. C.” are hauled up to give an Account._
“HALLO!” cried Bart, who was roused by the noise. “Who’s that out there?
What’s the row?”
“It’s ony me,” said Pat, in a faint voice.
“You, Pat! Is it you? Well, I’d say I’m very glad to see you, only it
happens to be too dark to see anything. Well, Pat, what’s up?”
By this time Bart had got out of bed, and had reached the sitting-room,
where Pat was still standing against the door.
“Didn’t ye hair it?” he said.
“Hear it? Hear what?”
“It!” cried Pat. “There’s no mistake this time.”
“O, come, Pat, none of that nonsense. That does very well for the little
boys; but I understand it all.”
“Didn’t ye hair it?” cried Pat. “It nairly blew me head off, so it did.
An doun hair I coom wid wan lape, so I did--an it afther me.”
“It? What It?”
“Shure you know what.”
“You don’t mean that rubbish about a ghost. I know all about that. You
needn’t talk to me that way.”
At this moment the distant bray of the donkey sounded once more. Pat
clutched Bart’s arm, and cried,--
“There it is agin. It’s a coomin. O, I knowed it.”
“That!” said Bart, opening the door and listening. “Why, that’s only the
bray of a donkey. You’ve heard it often enough---haven’t you?”
“The bray of a donkey!” faltered Pat. “Sure it’s me that’s heard it.”
“Well, this must be one.”
“But who ivir heard of a donkey in a garret?”
“O, I dare say he’s strolled up there to visit your friend in the
cupola.”
And now, Bart, not caring to prolong Pat’s terror, explained the cause
of the noise that had terrified him, letting him know at the same time
why it was done. He told Pat that they found out about the screech, and
the bell, and sent up the donkey so as to give him a little taste of
that fear which he was so anxious to give to others. As they had given
him a shock, he was satisfied. Had Pat been at all an ill-tempered
fellow; he might have resented all this; but as he was one of the
best-natured fellows in the world, he showed not the smallest particle
of resentment. On the contrary, the moment the load of horror was lifted
off by Bart’s disclosure, his buoyant spirits rose at once, and all
burst forth to the full swing of his jovial, mirthful, ridiculous,
reckless Irish temperament.
“Faith, an it’s me that’s caught--’deed an it is so, thin,” he cried,
with a burst of laughter. “An ye got the donkey up to the garret! Sure
it bates the wurruld, so it does. An didn’t I hair the noise? but how
cud I ivir dhrame it wor that. An ye got him jist close fornist me, so
ye did! It wor just in me own air that he hooted, so it wor.”
Pat now grew quite communicative, and told Bart all about it. His motive
for creating an excitement was simply to get a chance of laughing at
the other boys, who had so often laughed at him. There was no malice
whatever in his intention; nothing at all of the nature of vengefulness;
but simply a mischievous and thoughtless idea of throwing some ridicule
on the boys generally. Bart’s discovery of the truth was known to him,
but he did not care for that; he was determined to keep up his little
joke as long as it could be kept up. He had been startled that night
when the string had been jerked from his hand, but afterwards concluded
that it was the wind. The knock at the doors he explained very simply.
He had stolen up barefoot, and as the screech sounded, he had struck
each door with a stick, and then ran. He was down below before they
could see him. All this Pat explained with perfect ease and much
merriment, regarding it all as a good joke, not even excepting the last
affair with the donkey.
But what, it may be asked, was that screech which had been the beginning
of it all?
It was all explained on the following morning.
Early on that morning the donkey had been brought down stairs with
little difficulty, but with an immense amount of noise. As the boys
brought him out, Pat marched quietly after them, carrying an enormous
Owl!
One by one the boys heard the news. The whole school came flocking out
to look upon the objects of their late terror. Gradually the whole story
came out, and the boys, in their sudden recoil from a general panic,
now gave way to the wildest uproar and merriment. A laughing procession
followed the donkey to his rural home, while Pat took the owl down into
the kitchen to get some meat for it from Solomon.
Meanwhile Solomon had heard of the revelation of the dark mystery, and
was running out to satisfy himself, when he met Pat half way.
“O, de sakes, now!” cried old Solomon. “What dis heah scubbry dat hab
turn up on dis smilin an ’spicious morn. Whar’s dat ar an’mal what hab
ben kickin up sech a ’menjous bobberation, an ob whose ’sploits I
hab heard so much? Am dis heah de ’sterious an stror’ny phiantium dat
hab frikened dis ’stracted ole nigga man mos to deff?”
“Sure an here he is,” said Pat, holding forward the bird, “an as fine a
owl as ye’d wish fur till clap yer eyes on, so he is.”
Solomon stood looking at the owl for a few moments. Then he made a
low bow, with absurd extravagance of gesture. Then he burst forth in a
strange tone, which seemed like a desperate attempt at sarcasm.
“Mas’r Owl, sah,” said he, rolling up his eyes and spreading out his
hands,--“Mas’r Owl, sah, good morn, sah. I’se so drefful glad to see
you, sah!--such a ’mendious honna, sah!”
He then made another low bow, after which he went on with an attempt at
more scathing sarcasm than ever, in which there was also visible a tinge
of something like indignation.
“Mas’r Owl, sah, ar you awah, sah, dat you hab ben ’ferin berry much
wid de ’pose ob an aged but spectb’l gem’n ob colla, sah? a pus’n,
sah, dat’s bettan a dozen ob you, sah--bein as he is a Granpanderdrum,
an ’sides bein fessa ob de cool and airy ’partment in dis yah
’Cad’my--fessa, sah, ob ebba so many yeahs’ stan’in, sah--fren ob de
docta, sah, an not a pus’n to be ’posed on, sah? Do you know what you
are, sah? You’re a mis’ble darky, sah--no better’n a crow, sah! Do you
know what I’m gwino to do, sah, dis bressed moment, sah? I’ve biled
turkeys, an chickens, an geese, an ducks, an pattidges, an quails, an
snipes, but I hab nebba biled a owl. Wal, dat ar’s jest what I’m a gwine
to do now, sah. Yes, sah, I’m ’termined ’pon dat ar. In you go to de
pot, body, bones, an beak--horns, tail, an all, sah.”
“An what’s the use?” said Pat: “shure he isn’t a poll parrot, that can
talk back at ye an give ye as gud as he gets. He’s ony an owl, an he
can’t spake a wurrud, so he can’t.
“Any how, I’se gwine to bile him dis bressed minit.”
“Ah, now, be aff wid ye; go long, an don’t be foolin,” cried Pat, as
Solomon made an effort to take the owl; “shure he niver did ye any
harrum at all at all. Shure he’s Misther Slocum’s tame owl, so he is,
that’s run away, an ben livin in our garret--an I’m takin him back to
his owner.”
“Mis’r Sloc’m,” said Solomon. “Well, Mis’r Sloc’m doesn’t lib down
heah--he doesn’t. What you a bringin him heah for?”
“Sure he ony wants his mate.”
“His mate,” cried Solomon. “Hab his mate flowed off sides him. Ef I fin
dat ar mate ’bout dese yah primises, I’ll bile her to pieces.”
“Ah, be aff wid ye! Shure it’s ony a paice av mate that I want fur the
owl.”
“A piece ob meat!” cried Solomon. “Nebba, sah. Dat ar bird hab ’sulted
me.”
And he drew up his aged form with severe dignity.
But Pat coaxed and pleaded, and the end of it was, that Solomon was
prevailed on to give him a piece of meat. The owl devoured it greedily,
and then Pat took him away to his owner.
The bird, as Pat said, belonged to Mr. Slocum, who lived about two miles
away. He had received him as a very fine specimen of a screech owl, from
a sea captain, who had brought him from abroad, and had got tired of
him. Mr. Slocum happened to be in Halifax at the time, and brought the
bird home in triumph a few weeks before. During the previous week he had
escaped, and had found his way through an open window of the cupola
into the garret. Pat had discovered him first, and as his terrific hoot
sounded out, frightening the boys, he took advantage of the circumstance
to perform a few additional tricks of his own, with the consequences
that have been narrated. It was only on the previous day that Pat had
found out who was the owner of the wandering bird. He happened to
hear people speaking of it in the village store as he was making some
purchases. So, now that the whole affair had come to an end, he thought
he might as well restore the lively bird to its rightful owner.
Meanwhile the donkey had been taken to his pasture, and the boys
returned, and school began, and the business of the day soon engrossed
their whole attention.
After school Pat and the boys of the “B. O. W. C.” received a message
from Mr. Long, requesting them to come to his study.
For the affair had spread, and the teachers had learned all about it.
Of course it was a thing that could not be passed over. After some
discussion, however, it was considered that it was not of sufficient
importance to be brought before Dr. Porter; and so Mr. Long was
requested to see all the boys concerned in the affair, and afterwards
report.
Mr. Long’s study was a room situated immediately under Bart’s. He
generally left at nine in the evening, and slept elsewhere. Consequently
he had not been in the way of hearing those “voices of the night.” It
was to this room, then, that the “B. O. W. C.,” together with Pat, bent
their steps, trying to conjecture what Mr. Long proposed to do about it.