"Sure Moll towld me wan magpie manes sorrow, two manes luck, three manes a
weddin', an' four manes death; an' didn't I see four o' thim the day o'
the fair in Ennis whin O'Dougherty was laid out? An' whin O'Riley cut his
arrum wid a bill-hook, an' the blood was runnin', didn't she tie a shtring
on the arrum an' dip a raven's feather into the blood av a black cat's
tail, an' shtop the bleedin'? An' didn't she bid me take care o' meself
the day I met a red-headed woman afore dinner, an' it wasn't six months
till I met the woman in the mornin', it a-rainin' an' ivery dhrop the full
o' yer hat, an' me top-coat at home, an' that same night was I tuk wid the
roomytics an' didn't shtir a toe fur a fortnight. Faix, she's an owld wan
is Moll; phat she can't do isn't worth thryin'. If she goes fur to make a
match, all the fathers in Ireland cudn't purvint it, an' it's no use o'
their settin' theirselves agin her, fur her head's as long as a summer day
an' as hard as a shillalee.
"Did iver ye hear how she got a husband for owld Miss Rooney, the same
that married Misther Dooley that kapes the Aygle Inn in Lisdoon Varna, an'
tuk him clane away from the Widdy Mulligan an' two more widdys that were
comin' down upon him like kites on a young rabbit?
"Well, it's a mighty improvin' shtory, fur it shows that widdys can be
baten whin they're afther a husband, that some doesn't belave, but they do
say it takes a witch, the divil, an' an owld maid to do it, an' some think
that all o' thim isn't aiquel to a widdy, aven if there's three o' thim
an' but wan av her.
"The razon av it is this. Widdy wimmin are like lobsthers, whin they wanst
ketch holt, begob, they've no consate av lettin' go at all, but will
shtick to ye tighter than a toe-nail, till ye've aither to marry thim or
murther thim, that's the wan thing in the end; fur if ye marry thim ye're
talked to death, an' if ye murther thim ye 're only dacintly hanged out o'
the front dure o' the jail. Whin they're afther a husband, they're as busy
as owld Nick, an' as much in airnest as a dog in purshoot av a flea.
More-be-token, they're always lookin' fur the proper man, an' if they see
wan that they think will shuit, bedad, they go afther him as strait as an
arrer, an' if he doesn't take the alarum an' run like a shape-thief, the
widdy 'ull have him afore the althar an' married fast an' tight while he'd
be sayin' a Craydo.
"They know so much be wan axpayrience av marryin', that, barrin' it's a
widdy man that's in it, an' he knows as much as thimselves, they'll do for
him at wanst, bekase it's well undhershtood that a bach'ler, aither young
or owld, has as much show av outshtrappin' a widdy as a mouse agin a
weasel.
"Now, this Misther Dooley was an owld bach'ler, nigh on five an' thirty,
an' about fifteen years ago, come next Advint, he come from Cork wid a bit
o' money, an' tuk the farm beyant Misther McCoole's on the lift as ye come
out o' Galway. He wasn't a bad lookin' felly, an' liked the ladies, an'
the first time he was in chapel afther takin' the farm, aitch widdy an'
owld maid set the two eyes av her on him, an' the Widdy Mulligan says to
herself, says she, 'Faix, that's just the man to take the place av me dear
Dinnis,' fur, ye see, the widdys always do spake that-a-way av their
husbands, a-givin' thim the good word afther they're dead, so as to make
up fur the tongue lashin's they give 'em whin they're alive. It's quare,
so it is, phat widdys are like. Whin ye see a widdy at the wake schraimin'
fit to shplit yer head wid the noise, an' flingin' herself acrass the
grave at the berryin' like it was a bag o' male she was, an' thin spakin'
all the time av 'me poor dear hushband,' I go bail they lived together as
paceful as a barrel full o' cats an' dogs; no more is it sorrow that's in
it, but raimorse that's tarin' at her, an' the shquailin' an' kickin' is
beways av a pinnance fur the gostherin' she done him whin he was livin',
fur the more there's in a jug, the less noise it makes runnin' out, an'
whin ye've a heavy load to carry, ye nade all yer breath, an' so have none
to waste tellin' how it's breakin' yer back.
[Illustration: The Widdy Mulligan]
"So it was wid the Widdy Mulligan, that kept the Shamrock Inn, for her
Dinnis was a little ottomy av a gossoon, an' her the full av a dure, an'
the arrum on her like a smith an' the fut like a leg o' mutton. Och, she
was big enough thin, but she's a horse entirely now, wid the walk av a
duck, an' the cheeks av her shakin' like a bowl av shtirabout whin she
goes. Her poor Dinnis dar n't say his sowl belonged to him, but was
conthrolled be her, an' they do say his last words were, 'I'll have pace,'
that was phat he niver had afther he married her, fur she was wan that 'ud
be shmilin' an' shmilin' an' the tongue av her like a razer. She'd a good
bit o' property in the inn, siven beds in the house fur thravellers, an'
six childher, the oldest nigh onto twelve, an' from him on down in reg'lar
steps like thim in front o' the coort-house.
[Illustration: The Widdy O'Donnell]
[Illustration: Missis McMurthry]
"Now, a bit up the shtrate from the Shamrock there was a little shop kept
be Missis O'Donnell, the widdy av Tim O'Donnell, that died o' bein'
mortified in his legs that broke be his fallin' aff his horse wan night
whin he was comin' back from Athlone, where he'd been to a fair. Missis
O'Donnell was a wapin' widdy, that's got eyes like a hydrant, where ye can
turn on the wather whin ye plaze. Begorra, thim's the widdys that 'ull do
fur anny man, fur no more can ye tell phat's in their minds be lookin' at
their faces than phat kind av close they've got on be lookin' at their
shadders, an' whin they corner a man that's tinder-hearted, an' give a shy
look at him up out o' their eyes, an' thin look down an' sind two or three
dhrops o' wather from undher their eye-lashers, the only salvation fur him
is to get up an' run like it was a bag o' gunpowdher she was. So Missis
O'Donnell, whin she seen Misther Dooley, tuk the same notion into her head
that the Widdy Mulligan did, fur she'd two childher, a boy an' a gurrul,
that were growin' up, an' the shop wasn't payin' well.
"There was another widdy in it, the Widdy McMurthry, that aftherwards
married a sargeant av the polis, an' lives in Limerick. She was wan o'
thim frishky widdys that shtruts an' wears fine close an' puts on more
airs than a paycock. She was a fine-lookin' woman thim times, an' had
money in plinty that she got be marryin' McMurthry, that was owld enough
to be a father to her an' died o' dhrinkin' too much whishkey at first,
an' thin too much sulphur-wather at Lisdoon Varna to set him right agin.
She was always ready wid an answer to ye, fur it was quick witted she was,
wid slathers o' talk that didn't mane annything, an' a giggle that she
didn't nade to hunt fur whin she wanted it to make a show wid. An' she'd a
dawther that was a fine child, about siventeen, a good dale like her
mother.
"Now, Misther Dooley had a kind heart in his body fur wimmin in gineral,
an' as he liked a bit o' chaff wid thim on all occashuns, he wasn't long
in gettin' acquainted wid all the wimmin o' the parish, an' was well liked
be thim, an', be the same token, wasn't be the men, fur men, be nacher,
doesn't like a woman's man anny more than wimmin like a men's woman. But,
afther a bit, he begun to centher himself on the three widdys, an' sorra
the day' ud go by whin he come to town but phat he'd give wan or another
o' thim a pace av his comp'ny that was very plazin' to thim. Bedad, he
done that same very well, for he made a round av it for to kape thim in
suspince. He'd set in the ale room o' the Shamrock an hour in the
afthernoon an' chat wid the Widdy Mulligan as she was sarvin' the dhrink,
an' shtop in the Widdy O'Donnell's shop as he was goin' by, to get a
thrifle or a bit av shwates an' give to her childher beways av a
complimint, an' thin go to Missis McMurthry's to tay, an' so got on well
wid thim all. An' it's me belafe he'd be doin' that same to this blessed
day only that the widdys begun to be pressin' as not likin' fur to wait
anny longer. Fur, mind ye, a widdy's not like a young wan that'll wait fur
ye to spake, an' if ye don't do it, 'ull go on foriver, or till she gets
tired av waitin' an' takes some wan else that does spake, widout sayin' a
word to ye at all; but the widdy 'ull be hintin' an' hintin', an' her
hints 'ull be as shtrong as a donkey's kick, so that the head o' ye has to
be harder than a pavin'-shtone if ye don't undhershtand, an' ye've got to
have more impidince than a monkey if ye don't spake up an' say something
about marryin'.
"Well, as I was afther sayin', the widdys begun to be pressin' him clost:
the Widdy Mulligan tellin' him how good her business was an' phat a savin'
there'd be if a farm an' a public were put together; the Widdy O'Donnell
a-lookin' at him out av her tears an' sighin' an' tellin' him how lonely
he must be out on a farm an' nobody but a man wid him in the house, fur
she was lonesome in town, an' it wasn't natheral at all, so it wasn't, fur
aither man or woman to be alone; an' the Widdy McMurthry a palatherin' to
him that if he'd a fine, good-lookin' woman that loved him, he'd be a
betther man an' a changed man entirely. So they wint on, the widdys
a-comin' at him, an' he thryin' to kape wid thim all, as he might have
knewn he couldn't do (barrin' he married the three o' thim like a Turk),
until aitch wan got to undhershtand, be phat he said to her, that he was
goin' to marry her, an' the minnit they got this in their heads, aitch
begged him that he'd shtay away from the other two, fur aitch knewn he
wint to see thim all. By jayminy, it bothered him thin, fur he liked to
talk to thim all aiquelly, an' didn't want to confine his agrayble comp'ny
to anny wan o' thim. So he got out av it thish-a-way. He promised the
Widdy McMurthry that he'd not go to the Shamrock more than wanst in the
week, nor into the Widdy O'Donnell's barrin' he naded salt fur his cow;
an' said to the Widdy Mulligan that he'd not more than spake to Missis
O'Donnell whin he wint in, an' that he'd go no more at all to Missis
McMurthry's; an' he towld Missis O'Donnell that whin he wint to the
Shamrock he'd get his sup an' thin lave at wanst, an' not go to the Widdy
McMurthry's axceptin' whin his horse wanted to be shod, the blacksmith's
bein' ferninst her dure that it 'ud be convaynient fur him to wait at. So
he shmiled wid himself thinkin' he'd done thim complately, an' made up his
mind that whin his pitaties were dug he'd give up the farm an' get over
into County Clare, away from the widdys.
"But thim that think widdys are fools are desaved entirely, an' so was
Misther Dooley, fur instead av his throubles bein' inded, begob, they were
just begun. Ivery time he wint into the Shamrock Missis O'Donnell heard av
it an' raymonshtrated wid him, an' 'ud cry at him beways it was dhrinkin'
himself to death he was; afther lavin' the Shamrock, the Widdy Mulligan
'ud set wan av her boys to watch him up the strate an' see if he shtopped
in the shop. Av coorse he cudn't go by, an' whin he come agin, the Widdy
Mulligan 'ud gosther him about it, an' thin he'd promise not to do it
agin. No more cud he go in the Widdy O'Donnell's shop widout meetin'
Missis McMurthry's dawther that was always shtreelin' on the strate, an'
thin her mother 'ud say to him it was a power o' salt his cow was atin',
an' the Widdy O'Donnell towld him his horse must be an axpensive baste fur
to nade so much shooin'.
"Thin he'd tell thim a lot o' lies that they purtinded to belave an'
didn't, bekase they're such desavers thimselves that it isn't aisey fur to
do thim, but Dooley begun to think if it got anny hotter fur him he'd lave
the pitaties to the widdys to divide bechune thim as a raytribution fur
the loss av himself, an' go to Clare widout delay.
"While he'd this bother on him he got to know owld Miss Rooney, that lived
wid her mother an' father on the farm next but wan to his own, but on the
other side o' the way, an' the manes be which he got to know her was this.
Wan mornin', whin Dooley's man, Paddy, wint to milk the cow, bad scran to
the dhrop she'd to shpare, an' he pullin' an' pullin', like it was ringin'
the chapel bell he was, an' she kickin', an' no milk comin', faix not as
much as 'ud blind the eye av a midge. So he wint an' towld Misther Dooley.
"'I can get no milk,' says he. 'Begorra the cow's as dhry as a fiddler's
troat,' says he.
"'Musha, thin,' says Misther Dooley, 'it's the lazy omadhawn ye are. I
don't belave it. Can ye milk at all?' says he.
"'I can,' says Paddy, 'as well as a calf,' says he. 'But phat's the use ov
pullin'? Ye'd get the same quantity from a rope,' says he.
"So Dooley wint out an' thried himself an' didn't get as much as a shmell
of milk.
"'Phat's the matther wid the baste?' says he, 'an' her on the grass from
sun to sun.'
"'Be jakers,' says Paddy, 'it's my consate that she's bewitched.'
"'It's thrue fur ye,' says Dooley, as the like was aften knewn. 'Go you to
Misther Rooney's wid the pail an' get milk fur the calf, an' ax if there's
a Pishogue hereabouts.'
"So Paddy wint an' come back sayin' that the young lady towld him there
was.
"'So there's a young lady in it,' thinks Dooley. Faix, the love av
coortin' was shtrong on him. 'Did ye ax her how to raich the woman?'
"'Bedad, I didn't. I forgot,' says Paddy.
"'That's yerself entirely,' says Dooley to him agin. 'I'd betther thrust
me arriants to a four-legged jackass as to wan wid two. He'd go twict as
fast an' remimber as much. I'll go meself,' says he, only wantin' an
axcuse, an' so he did. He found Miss Rooney thried to be plazin', an' it
bein' convainient, he wint agin, an' so it was ivery day whin he'd go fur
the calf's milk he'd have a chat wid her, an' sometimes come over in the
avenin', bekase it wasn't healthy fur him in town just thin.
"But he wint to Owld Moll about the cow, an' the charm she gev him soon
made the baste all right agin, but, be that time, he'd got used to goin'
to Rooney's an' liked it betther than the town, bekase whinever he wint to
town he had to make so many axcuses he was afeared the widdys 'ud ketch
him in a lie.
"So he shtayed at home most times and wint over to Rooney's the rest, fur
it wasn't a bad job at all, though she was about one an' forty, an' had
give up the fight fur a husband an' so saiced strugglin'. As long as
they've anny hope, owld maids are the most praypostherous craythers alive,
fur they'll fit thimselves wid the thrappin's av a young gurrul an' look
as onaisey in thim as a boy wid his father's britches on. But whin they've
consinted to the sitiwation an' saiced to struggle, thin they begin to be
happy an' enjoy life a bit, but there's no aise in the worruld fur thim
till thin. Now Miss Rooney had gev up the contist an' plasthered her hair
down on aitch side av her face so smooth ye'd shwear it was ironed it was,
an' begun to take the worruld aisey.
"But there's thim that says an owld maid niver does give up her hope, only
lets on to be continted so as to lay in amboosh fur anny onsuspishus man
that happens to shtray along, an' faix, it looks that-a-way from phat I'm
goin' to tell ye, bekase as soon as Misther Dooley begun to come over an'
palather his fine talk to her an' say shwate things, thin she up an'
begins shtrugglin' harder nor iver, bekase it was afther she'd let go, an'
comin' onexpected-like she thought it was a dispinsation av Providence,
whin rayly it was only an accident it was, beways av Dooley's cow goin'
dhry an' the calf too young to lave suckin' an' ate grass.
"Annyhow, wan day, afther Misther Dooley had talked purty nice the avenin'
afore, she put an her cloak, an' wint to Owld Moll an' in an' shut the
dure.
"'Now, Moll,' she says to the owld cuillean, 'it's a long time since I've
been to ye, barrin' the time the goat was lost, fur, sure, I lost me
confidince in ye. Ye failed me twict, wanst whin John McCune forgot me
whin he wint to Derry an' thin come back an' married that Mary O'Niel, the
impidint young shtrap, wid the hair av her as red as a glowin' coal; an'
wanst whin Misther McFinnigan walked aff from me an' married the Widdy
Bryan. Now ye must do yer besht, fur I'm thinkin' that, wid a little
industhry, I cud get Misther Dooley, the same that the town widdys is so
flusthrated wid.'
"'An' does he come to see ye, at all?' says Moll.
"'Faith he does, an' onless I'm mishtaken is mightily plazed wid his
comp'ny whin it's me that's in it,' says Miss Rooney.
"'An' phat widdys is in it,' says Moll, as she didn't know, bekase sorra a
step did the widdys go to her wid their love doin's, as they naded no
help, an' cud thransact thim affairs thimselves as long as their tongues
held out.
"So Miss Rooney towld her, an' Moll shuk her head. 'Jagers,' says she,
'I'm afeared yer goose is cooked if all thim widdys is afther him. I won't
thry,' says she.
"But Miss Rooney was as much in airnest as the widdys, troth, I'm
thinkin', more, bekase she was fairly aitchin' fur a husband now she'd got
her mind on it.
"'Sure, Moll,' says she, 'ye wouldn't desart me now an' it me last show.
Thim widdys can marry who they plaze, bad scran to 'em, but if Misther
Dooley gets from me, divil fly wid the husband I'll get at all, at all,'
beginnin' to cry.
"So, afther a dale av palatherin', Moll consinted to thry, bein' it was
the third time Miss Rooney had been to her, besides, she wanted to save
her charackther for a knowledgeable woman. So she aggrade to do her best,
an' gev her a little bag to carry wid 'erbs in it, an' writ some words on
two bits av paper an' the same in Latin. It was an awful charm, no more do
I remimber it, fur it was niver towld me, nor to anny wan else, fur it was
too dreadful to say axceptin' in Latin an' in a whisper fur fear the avil
sper'ts 'ud hear it, that don't undhershtand thim dape langwidges.
"'Now, darlint,' says owld Moll, a-givin' her wan, 'take you this charm
an' kape it on you an' the bag besides, an' ye must manage so as this
other paper 'ull be on Misther Dooley, an' if it fails an' he don't marry
ye I'll give ye back yer money an' charge ye nothing at all,' says she.
"So Miss Rooney tuk the charms an' paid Owld Moll one pound five, an' was
to give her fifteen shillins more afther she was married to Dooley.
"She wint home, bothered entirely how she'd get the charm on Dooley, an'
the avenin' come, an' he wid it, an' shtill she didn't know. So he set an'
talked an' talked, an' by an' by he dhrunk up the rest av the whiskey an'
wather in his glass an' got up to go.
"'Why, Misther Dooley,' says she, bein' all at wanst shtruck be an idee.
'Was iver the like seen av yer coat?' says she. 'Sure it's tore in the
back. Sit you down agin wan minnit an' I'll mend it afore ye can light yer
pipe. Take it aff,' says she.
"'Axqueeze me,' says Dooley. 'I may be a bigger fool than I look, or I may
look a bigger fool than I am, but I know enough to kape the coat on me
back whin I'm wid a lady,' says he.
"'Then take a sate an' I'll sow it on ye,' says she to him agin, so he set
down afore the fire, an' she, wid a pair av shizzors an' a nadle, wint
behind him an' at the coat. 'Twas a sharp thrick av her, bekase she took
the shizzors, an' whin she was lettin' on to cut aff the t'reads that she
said were hangin', she ripped the collar, an' shlipped in the bit o'
paper, an' sowed it up as nate as a samesthress in less than no time.
"'It's much beholden to ye I am,' says Dooley, risin' wid his pipe lit.
'An' it's a happy man I'd be if I'd a young woman av yer size to do the
like to me ivery day.'
"'Glory be to God,' says Miss Rooney to herself, fur she thought the charm
was beginnin' to work. But she says to him, 'Oh, it's talkin' ye are. A
fine man like you can marry who he plazes.'
"So Dooley wint home, an' she, thinkin' the business as good as done,
towld her mother that night she was to marry Misther Dooley. The owld lady
cudn't contain herself or the saycret aither, so the next mornin' towld it
to her sister, an' she to her dawther that wint to school wid Missis
McMurthry's gurrul. Av coorse the young wan cudn't howld her jaw anny more
than the owld wans, an' up an' towld the widdy's dawther an' she her
mother an' the rest o' the town, so be the next day ivery wan knew that
Dooley was goin' to marry Miss Rooney: that shows, if ye want to shpread a
bit o' news wid a quickness aiquel to the tellygraph, ye've only to tell
it to wan woman as a saycret.
"Well, me dear, the noise the widdys made 'ud shtun a dhrummer. Dooley
hadn't been in town fur a week, an' widdys bein' nacherly suspishus, they
misthrusted that somethin' was wrong, but divil a wan o' thim thought he'd
do such an onmannerly thrick as that. But they all belaved it, bekase
widdys judge iverybody be themselves, so they were mighty mad.
"The Widdy McMurthry was first to hear the news, as her dawther towld her,
an' she riz in a fury. 'Oh the owdashus villin,' says she; 'to think av
him comin' here an' me listenin' at him that was lyin' fasther than a
horse 'ud throt. But I'll have justice, so I will, an' see if there's law
for a lone widdy. I'll go to the judge,' fur, I forgot to tell ye, it was
jail delivery an' the coort was settin' an' the judge down from Dublin wid
a wig on him the size av a bar'l.
"Whin they towld Missis O'Donnell, she bust out cryin' an' says, 'Sure it
can't be thrue. It isn't in him to desave a poor widdy wid only two
childher, an' me thrustin' on him,' so she wint into the back room an'
laid on the bed.
"But whin the Widdy Mulligan learned it, they thought she'd take a fit,
the face av her got so red an' she chokin' wid rage. 'Tatther an' agers,'
says she. 'If I only had that vagabone here five minnits, it's a long day
it 'ud be afore he'd desave another tinder-hearted faymale.'
"'Oh, be aisey,' says wan to her, 'faix, you're not the onliest wan that's
in it. Sure there's the Widdy O'Donnell an' Missis McMurthry that he's
desaved aiquelly wid yerself.'
"'Is that thrue?' says she; 'by this an' by that I'll see thim an' we'll
go to the judge an' have him in the prision. Sure the Quane's a widdy
herself an' knows how it feels, an' her judge 'ull take the part av widdys
that's misconshtrewed be a nagurly blaggard like owld Dooley. Bad luck to
the seed, breed, an' generation av him. I cud mop up the flure wid him,
the divil roast him, an' if I lay me hands on him, I'll do it,' says she,
an' so she would; an' a blessing it was to Misther Dooley he was not in
town just thin, but at home, diggin' pitaties as fast as he cud, an'
chucklin' to himself how he'd send the pitaties to town be Paddy, an'
himself go to Clare an' get away from the whole tribe av widdys an' owld
maids.
"So the Widdy Mulligan wint afther the Widdy O'Donnell an' tuk her along,
an' they towld thim av the Widdy McMurthry an' how she was done be him,
an' they got her too, fur they all said, 'Sure we wouldn't marry him fur
him, but only want to see him punished fur misconshtructing phat we said
to him an' lying to us.' Be this time half the town was ready an' aiger to
go wid thim to the coort, an' so they did, an' in, wid the offishers
thryin' to kape thim out, an' the wimmin shovin' in, an' all their frinds
wid 'em, an' the shur'f callin' out 'Ordher in the coort,' an' the judge
lookin' over his shpectacles at thim.
"'Phat's this at all?' says the judge, wid a solemnious voice. 'Is it a
riat it is, or a faymale convulsion?'--whin he seen all the wimmin.
'Phat's the matther?' says he, an' wid that all the wimmin begun at wanst,
so as the noise av thim was aiquel to a 'viction.
"'Marcy o' God,' says the judge, 'phat's in the faymales at all? Are they
dishtracted entirely, or bewitched, or only dhrunk?' says he.
"'We're crazy wid graif, yer Lordshap,' they schraimed at him at wanst.
'It's justice we want agin the uppresser.'
"'Phat's the uppresser been a-doin'?' axed the judge.
"'Disthroyin' our pace, an' that av our families,' they said to him.
"'Who is the uppresser?' he axed.
"'Owld Dooley,' they all shouted at him at the wan time, like it was
biddin' at an auction they were.
"So at first the judge cudn't undhershtand at all, till some wan
whishpered the truth to him an' thin he scrotched his chin wid a pen.
"'Is it a man fur to marry all thim widdys? By me wig, he's a bowld wan.
Go an' fetch him,' he says to a consthable. 'Be sated, ladies, an' ye'll
have justice,' he says to the widdys, very p'lite. 'Turn out thim other
blaggards,' he says to the shur'f, an' away wint the polisman afther
Dooley.
"He found him at home, wid his coat aff, an' him an' Paddy diggin' away at
the pitaties for dear life, bekase he wanted to get thim done.
"'Misther Dooley,' says the consthable to him, 'ye're me prish'ner. Come
along, ye must go wid me at wanst.'
"At first, Dooley was surprised in that degray he thought the life 'ud
lave him, as the consthable come up behind him on the quiet, so as to give
him no show to run away.
"'Phat for?' says Dooley to him, whin he'd got his wind agin.
"'Faix, I'm not sartain,' says the polisman, that wasn't a bad felly; 'but
I belave it's along o' thim widdys that are so fond o' ye. The three o'
thim's in the coort an' all the faymales in town, an' the judge sint me
afther ye, an' ye must come at wanst, so make ready to go immejitly.'
"'Don't go wid him,' says Paddy, wid his sleeves rowled up an' spitting in
his hands. 'Lave me at him,' says he, but Dooley wouldn't, bekase he was a
paceable man. But he wasn't anxshus to go to the coort at all; begob, he'd
all the coortin' he naded, but bein' there was no help fur it, he got his
coat, the same that Miss Rooney sowed the charm in, an' shtarted wid the
consthable.
"Now, it was that mornin' that owld Rooney was in town, thryin' to sell a
goat he had, that gev him no end o' throuble be losin' itself part of the
time an' the rest be jumpin' on the thatch an' stickin' its feet through.
But he cudn't sell it, as ivery wan knew the baste as well as himself, an'
so he was sober, that wasn't common wid him. Whin he seen the widdys an'
the other wimmin wid thim shtravigerin' through the strate on the way to
the coort an' heard the phillaloo they were afther makin', he axed phat
the matther was. So they towld him, an' says he, 'Be the powers, if it's a
question av makin' him marry some wan, me dawther has an inthrust in the
matther,' so he dhropped the goat's shtring an' shtarted home in a
lamplighter's throt to fetch her, an' got there about the time the
polisman nabbed Dooley.
"'There, they're afther goin' now,' says he to her. 'Make haste, or we'll
lose thim,' an' aff they run, she wid her charm an' he widout his coat,
grippin' a shillalee in his fisht, an' caught up wid Paddy that was
follerin' the polisman an' Dooley.
"So they jogged along, comfortable enough, the polisman an' Dooley in the
lade, afther thim owld Rooney an' Paddy, blaggardin' the consthable ivery
fut o' the way, an' offerin' fur to bate him so as he wouldn't know
himself be lookin' in the glass, an' Miss Rooney in the rare, wondherin'
if the charm 'ud work right. But Dooley didn't let a word out av his jaw,
as knowin' he'd nade all his breath afther gettin' into the coort.
"At the rise o' the hill the pursesshun was met be about a hunderd o' the
town boys that come out fur to view thim, an' that yelled at Dooley how
the widdys were waitin' to tare him in paces, an' that he was as good as a
dead man a'ready, so he was; an' whin they got into town, all the men
jined the show, roarin' wid laughter an' shoutin' at Dooley that the judge
cudn't do anny more than hang him at wanst, an' to shtand it like a hayro,
bekase they'd all be at the hangin' an' come to the wake besides an' have
a tundherin' big time. But he answered thim niver a word, so they all wint
on to the coort, an' in, bringin' the other half o' the town wid 'em, the
faymale half bein' there kapin' comp'ny wid the widdys.
"The minnit they come nie the dure, all the widdys an' wimmin begun in wan
breath to make raimarks on thim.
"'A-a-a-ah, the hang-dog face he has,' says Missis McMurthry. 'Sure hasn't
he the look av a shape-thief on the road to the gallus?'
"'See the haythen vagabone,' says the Widdy Mulligan. 'If I had me tin
fingers on him for five minnits, it's all the satiswhackshun I'd ax. Bad
cess to the hair I'd lave on the head av him or in his whushkers aither.'
"But the Widdy O'Donnell only cried, an' all the wimmin turned their noses
up whin they seen Miss Rooney comin' in.
[Illustration: "OULD ROONEY AN' PADDY BLAGGARDIN' THE CONSTHABLE IVERY FUT
O' THE WAY."]
"OULD ROONEY AN' PADDY BLAGGARDIN' THE CONSTHABLE IVERY FUT O' THE WAY."
"'Look at that owld thing,' says they. 'Phat a power av impidince! Mind
the consate av her to be comin' here wid him. Sure she hasn't the shame av
a shtone monkey,' says they av her.
"'Silence in the coort,' says the shur'f. 'Stop that laughin' be the dure.
Git along down out o' thim windys,' says he to the mob that Dooley an' the
consthable brought wid thim.
"'Misther Dooley,' says the judge, 'I'm axed to b'lave ye're thryin' to
marry four wimmin at wanst, three av the same aforeshed bein' widdys an'
the other wan not. Is it thrue, or do ye plade not guilty?' says he.
"'It's not thrue, yer Lordshap,' says Dooley, shpakin' up, bekase he seen
he was in for it an' put on a bowld face. 'Thim widdys is crazy to get a
husband, an' misconsayved the manin' o' me words,' says he, an' that
minnit you'd think a faymale lunattic ashylum broke loose in the coort.
"They all gabbled at wanst like a field av crows. They said he was a
haythen, a Toork, a vulgar shpalpeen, a lyin' blaggard, a uppresser av the
widdy, a robber av the orphin, he was worse than a nagur, he was, so he
was, an' they niver thought av belavin' him, nor av marryin' him aither
till he axed thim, an' so on.
"The judge was a married man himself an' knewn it was no use thryin' to
shtop the gostherin,' for it was a joke av him to say that the differ
bechuxt a woman an' a book was you cud shut up a book, so he let thim go
on till they were spint an' out o' breath an' shtopped o' thimselves like
an owld clock that's run down.
"'The sintince av this coort, Misther Dooley, is, that ye marry wan av 'em
an' make compinsation to the other wans in a paycoonyary way be payin'
thim siven poun' aitch.'
"'Have marcy, yer Lordshap,' says Dooley, bekase he seen himself shtripped
av all he had. 'Make it five poun', an' that's more than I've got in
money.'
"'Siven pound, not a haporth less,' says the judge. 'If ye haven't the
money ye can pay it in projuice. An' make yer chice bechune the wimmin who
ye'll marry, as it's married ye'll be this blessed day, bekase ye've gone
too long a'ready,' says the judge, very starn, an' thin the widdys all got
quite, an' begun to be sorry they gev him so many hard names.
"'Is it wan o' the widdys must I marry?' says Dooley, axin' the judge, an'
the charm in his coller beginnin' to work hard an' remind him av Miss
Rooney, that was settin' on wan side, trimblin'.
"'Tare an' 'ouns,' says the judge. 'Bad luck to ye, ye onmannerly idjit,'
as he was gettin' vexed wid Dooley, that was shtandin', scrotchin' the
head av him like he was thryin' to encourage his brains. 'Wasn't it wan o'
the wimmin that I tould ye to take?' says he.
"'If that's phat yer Lordshap says, axin' yer pardin an' not misdoubtin'
ye, if it's plazin' to ye, bedad, I'll take the owld maid, bekase thim
widdys have got a sight av young wans, an' childher are like toothpicks,
ivery man wants his own an' not another felly's.' But he had another razon
that he towld to me afther; says he, 'If I've got to have a famly, be
jakers, I want to have the raisin' av it meself,' an' my blessin' on him
for that same.
"But whin he was spakin' an' said he'd take Miss Rooney, wid that word she
fainted away fur dead, an' was carried out o' the coort be her father an'
Paddy.
"So it was settled, an' as Dooley didn't have the money, the widdys
aggrade to take their pay some other way. The Widdy Mulligan tuk the
pitaties he was diggin' whin the polisman gripped him, as she said they'd
kape the inn all winter. The Widdy McMurthry got his hay, which come
convaynient, bekase her brother kep post horses an' tuk the hay av her at
two shillins undher the market. Missis O'Donnell got the cow that made all
the throuble be goin' dhry at the wrong time, an' bein' it was a good cow
was vally'd at tin poun'; so she gev him three poun', an' was to sind him
the calf whin it was weaned. So the widdys were all paid for bein' wounded
in their hearts be Misther Dooley, an' a good bargain they made av it,
bekase a widdy's affections are like garden weeds, the more ye thrample
thim the fasther they grow.
"Misther Dooley got Miss Rooney, an' she a husband, fur they pulled her
out av her faint wid a bucket o' wather, an' the last gossoon in town wint
from the coort to the chapel wid Miss Rooney an' Misther Dooley, the
latther crassin' himself ivery minnit an' blessin' God ivery step he tuk
that it wasn't the jail he was goin' to, an' they were married there wid a
roarin' crowd waitin' in the strate fur to show thim home. But they
sarcumvinted thim, bekase they wint out the back way an' through Father
O'Donohue's garden, an' so home, lavin' the mob howlin' before the chapel
dure like wild Ingines.
"An' that's the way the owld maid defated three widdys, that isn't often
done, no more would she have done it but for owld Moll an' the charm in
Dooley's coat. But he's very well plazed, an' that I know, for afther me
first wife died, her I was tellin' ye av, I got the roomytics in me back
like tin t'ousand divils clawin' at me backbone, an' I made me mind up
that I'd get another wife, bekase I wanted me back rubbed, sence it 'ull
be chaper, says I, to marry some wan to rub it than to pay a boy to do
that same. So I was lookin' roun' an' met Misther Dooley an' spake av it
to him, an' good luck it 'ud have been if I'd tuk his advice, but I
didn't, bein' surrounded be a widdy afther, that's rubbed me back well fur
me only wid a shtick. But says he to me, 'Take you my advice Misther
Magwire, an' whin ye marry, get you an owld maid, if there's wan to be had
in the counthry. Gurruls is flighty an' axpectin' too much av ye, an'
widdys is greedy buzzards as ye've seen be my axpayrience, but owld maids
is humble, an' thankful for gettin' a husband at all, God bless 'em, so
they shtrive to plaze an' do as ye bid thim widout grumblin' or axin'
throublesome questions.'"
[Illustration: "A good bargain they made av it"]