[Illustration: The Philosophers were able to hear each other
thinking all day long (page 5)]
THE
CROCK OF GOLD
By
James Stephens
WITH TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR
BY
THOMAS MACKENZIE
CONTENTS
BOOK I
THE COMING OF PAN 1
BOOK II
THE PHILOSOPHER’S JOURNEY 91
BOOK III
THE TWO GODS 135
BOOK IV
THE PHILOSOPHER’S RETURN 151
BOOK V
THE POLICEMEN 185
BOOK VI
THE THIN WOMAN’S JOURNEY AND THE HAPPY MARCH 253
ILLUSTRATIONS
IN COLOUR
The Philosophers were able to hear each other
thinking all day long (page 5) _Frontispiece_
FACE PAGE
“Will you never be done talking?” shouted the Thin
Woman passionately 26
He stood waist-deep in greenery fronting her squarely 42
“Do you remember,” said Seumas, “the way he hopped and
waggled his leg the last time he was here?” 58
He saw Caitilin Ni Murrachu walking a little way in front
with a small vessel in her hand 74
At that moment the Philosopher’s cake lost all its savour 97
A swift shadow darkened the passage 109
A young woman came along the road and stood gazing earnestly
at this house 129
“Tell me where the money is?” he hissed 166
He . . . wept in so loud a voice that his comrades swarmed
up to see what had happened to him 200
When they topped a slight incline they saw a light shining
some distance away 212
Caitilin danced in uncontrollable gaiety 222
BOOK I. THE COMING OF PAN
CHAPTER I
In the centre of the pine wood called Coilla Doraca there lived
not long ago two Philosophers. They were wiser than anything else
in the world except the Salmon who lies in the pool of Glyn Cagny
into which the nuts of knowledge fall from the hazel bush on its
bank. He, of course, is the most profound of living creatures, but
the two Philosophers are next to him in wisdom. Their faces looked
as though they were made of parchment, there was ink under their
nails, and every difficulty that was submitted to them, even by
women, they were able to instantly resolve. The Grey Woman of Dun
Gortin and the Thin Woman of Inis Magrath asked them the three
questions which nobody had ever been able to answer, and they were
able to answer them. That was how they obtained the enmity of these
two women which is more valuable than the friendship of angels. The
Grey Woman and the Thin Woman were so incensed at being answered
that they married the two Philosophers in order to be able to
pinch them in bed, but the skins of the Philosophers were so thick
that they did not know they were being pinched. They repaid the
fury of the women with such tender affection that these vicious
creatures almost expired of chagrin, and once, in a very ecstasy
of exasperation, after having been kissed by their husbands, they
uttered the fourteen hundred maledictions which comprised their
wisdom, and these were learned by the Philosophers who thus became
even wiser than before.
In due process of time two children were born of these marriages.
They were born on the same day and in the same hour, and they were
only different in this, that one of them was a boy and the other
one was a girl. Nobody was able to tell how this had happened, and,
for the first time in their lives, the Philosophers were forced
to admire an event which they had been unable to prognosticate;
but having proved by many different methods that the children were
really children, that what must be must be, that a fact cannot be
controverted, and that what has happened once may happen twice,
they described the occurrence as extraordinary but not unnatural,
and submitted peacefully to a Providence even wiser than they were.
The Philosopher who had the boy was very pleased because, he said,
there were too many women in the world, and the Philosopher who
had the girl was very pleased also because, he said, you cannot
have too much of a good thing: the Grey Woman and the Thin Woman,
however, were not in the least softened by maternity-they said
that they had not bargained for it, that the children were gotten
under false presences, that they were respectable married women,
and that, as a protest against their wrongs, they would not cook
any more food for the Philosophers. This was pleasant news for
their husbands, who disliked the women’s cooking very much, but
they did not say so, for the women would certainly have insisted
on their rights to cook had they imagined their husbands disliked
the results: therefore, the Philosophers besought their wives every
day to cook one of their lovely dinners again, and this the women
always refused to do.
They all lived together in a small house in the very centre of a
dark pine wood. Into this place the sun never shone because the
shade was too deep, and no wind ever came there either, because
the boughs were too thick, so that it was the most solitary and
quiet place in the world, and the Philosophers were able to hear
each other thinking all day long, or making speeches to each other,
and these were the pleasantest sounds they knew of. To them there
were only two kinds of sounds anywhere—these were conversation and
noise: they liked the first very much indeed, but they spoke of
the second with stern disapproval, and, even when it was made by a
bird, a breeze, or a shower of rain, they grew angry and demanded
that it should be abolished. Their wives seldom spoke at all and
yet they were never silent: they communicated with each other by
a kind of physical telegraphy which they had learned among the
Shee-they cracked their finger-joints quickly or slowly and so were
able to communicate with each other over immense distances, for by
dint of long practice they could make great explosive sounds which
were nearly like thunder, and gentler sounds like the tapping of
grey ashes on a hearthstone. The Thin Woman hated her own child,
but she loved the Grey Woman’s baby, and the Grey Woman loved the
Thin Woman’s infant but could not abide her own. A compromise may
put an end to the most perplexing of situations, and, consequently,
the two women swapped children, and at once became the most tender
and amiable mothers imaginable, and the families were able to live
together in a more perfect amity than could be found anywhere else.
The children grew in grace and comeliness. At first the little boy
was short and fat and the little girl was long and thin, then the
little girl became round and chubby while the little boy grew lanky
and wiry. This was because the little girl used to sit very quiet
and be good and the little boy used not.
They lived for many years in the deep seclusion of the pine wood
wherein a perpetual twilight reigned, and here they were wont
to play their childish games, flitting among the shadowy trees
like little quick shadows. At times their mothers, the Grey Woman
and the Thin Woman, played with them, but this was seldom, and
sometimes their fathers, the two Philosophers, came out and looked
at them through spectacles which were very round and very glassy,
and had immense circles of horn all round the edges. They had,
however, other playmates with whom they could romp all day long.
There were hundreds of rabbits running about in the brushwood; they
were full of fun and were very fond of playing with the children.
There were squirrels who joined cheerfully in their games, and some
goats, having one day strayed in from the big world, were made so
welcome that they always came again whenever they got the chance.
There were birds also, crows and blackbirds and willy-wagtails,
who were well acquainted with the youngsters, and visited them as
frequently as their busy lives permitted.
At a short distance from their home there was a clearing in the
wood about ten feet square; through this clearing, as through a
funnel, the sun for a few hours in the summer time blazed down.
It was the boy who first discovered the strange radiant shaft in
the wood. One day he had been sent out to collect pine cones for
the fire. As these were gathered daily the supply immediately near
the house was scanty, therefore he had, while searching for more,
wandered further from his home than usual. The first sight of the
extraordinary blaze astonished him. He had never seen anything
like it before, and the steady, unwinking glare aroused his fear
and curiosity equally. Curiosity will conquer fear even more than
bravery will; indeed, it has led many people into dangers which
mere physical courage would shudder away from, for hunger and love
and curiosity are the great impelling forces of life. When the
little boy found that the light did not move he drew closer to it,
and at last, emboldened by curiosity, he stepped right into it and
found that it was not a thing at all. The instant that he stepped
into the light he found it was hot, and this so frightened him that
he jumped out of it again and ran behind a tree. Then he jumped
into it for a moment and out of it again, and for nearly half an
hour he played a splendid game of tip and tig with the sunlight.
At last he grew quite bold and stood in it and found that it did
not burn him at all, but he did not like to remain in it, fearing
that he might be cooked. When he went home with the pine cones he
said nothing to the Grey Woman of Dun Gortin or to the Thin Woman
of Inis Magrath or to the two Philosophers, but he told the little
girl all about it when they went to bed, and every day afterwards
they used to go and play with the sunlight, and the rabbits and
the squirrels would follow them there and join in their games with
twice the interest they had shown before.