how could it end otherwise than Jack to lose betune two such knowing
schamers as they soon turned out to be? For, what do you think? but,
as Jack was beginning the game, the dog tips him a wink--laying his
fore-claw along his nose as before, as much as to say, 'Watch me, and
you'll win'--turning round, at the same time, and showing Jack a nate
little looking-glass, that was set in his oxther, in which Jack saw,
dark as it was, the spots of all the other fellow's cards, as he
thought, so that he was cock-sure of bating him. But they were a pair of
downright knaves any how; for Jack, by playing to the cards that he saw
in the looking-glass, instead of to them the other held in his hand,
lost the game and the money. In short, he saw that he was blarnied and
chated by them both; and when the game was up, he plainly tould them as
much.
“'What?--you scoundrel!' says the black fellow, starting up and catching
him by the collar; 'dare you go for to impache my honor?'
“'Leather him, if he says a word,' says the dog, running over on his
hind-legs, and laying his shut paw upon Jack's nose. 'Say another word,
you rascal!' says he, 'and I'll down you;' with this, the ould fellow
gives him another shake.
“'I don't blame you so much,' says Jack to him; 'it was the
looking-glass that desaved me. That cur's nothing but a black leg!'
“'What looking-glass?--you knave you!' says dark-face, giving him a
fresh haul.
“'Why, the one I saw under the dog's oxther,' replied Jack.
“'Under my oxther, you swindling rascal!' replied the dog, giving him
a pull by the other side of the collar; 'did ever any honest pair
of gintlemen hear the like?--but he only wants to break through the
agreement: so let us turn him at once into an ass, and then he'll break
no more bargains, nor strive to take in honest men and win their money.
Me a black-leg!' So the dark fellow drew his two hands over Jack's jaws,
and in a twinkling there was a pair of ass's ears growing up out of his
head. When Jack found this, he knew that he wasn't in good hands: so he
thought it best to get himself as well out of the scrape as possible.
“'Gintlemen, be aisy,' says he, 'and let us understand one another: I'm
very willing to sarve you for a year and a day; but I've one requist
to ax, and it's this: I've a helpless ould mother at home,--and if I
go with you now, she'll break her heart with grief first, and starve
afterwards. Now, if your honor will give me a year to work hard, and lay
in provision to support her while I'm away, I'll serve you with all the
veins of my heart--for a bargain's a bargain.'
“With this, the dog gave his companion a pluck by the skirt, and, after
some chat together that Jack didn't hear, they came back and said
that they would comply with his wishes that far: 'So, on to-morrow
twelvemonth, Jack,' says the dark fellow, 'the dog here will come to
your mother's, and if you follow him he'll bring you safe to my castle.'
“'Very well, your honor,' says Jack; 'but as dogs resemble one another
so much, how will I know him when he comes?'
“'Why,' answers the other, 'he'll have a green ribbon and a spy-glass
about his neck, and a pair of Wellington boots on his hind legs.'
“'That's enough, sir,' says Jack, 'I can't mistake him in that dress, so
I'll be ready; but, jintlemen, if it would be plasing to you both I'd
every bit as soon not go home with these,' and he handled the brave pair
of ears he had got, as he spoke. 'The truth is, jintlemen, I'm deluding
enough without them; and as I'm so modest, you persave, why if you'd
take them away, you'd oblige me!'
“To this they had no objection, and during that year Jack wrought night
and day, that he might be able to lave as much provision with his poor
mother as would support her in his absence; and when the morning came
that he was to bid her farewell, he went down on his two knees and got
her blessing. He then left her with tears in his eyes, and promised to
come back the very minute his time would be up. 'Mother,' says he, 'be
kind to your little family here, and feed them well, as they are all
you'll have to keep you company till you see me again.'
“His mother then stuffed his pockets with bread, till they stuck out
behind him, and gave him a crooked six-pence for luck; after which, he
got his staff, and was just ready to tramp, when, sure enough, he spies
his ould friend the dog, with the green ribbon about his neck, and the
Wellington boots upon his hind legs. He didn't go in, but waited on the
outside till Jack came out. They then set off, but no one knows how
far they travelled, till they reached the dark gintleman's castle, who
appeared very glad to see Jack, and gave him a hearty welcome.
“The next day, in consequence of his long journey, he was ax'd to do
nothing; but in the coorse of the evening, the dark chap brought
him into a long, frightful room, where there were three hundred and
sixty-five hooks sticking out of the wall, and on every hook but one
a man's head. When Jack saw this agreeable sight, his dinner began
to quake within him; but he felt himself still worse, when his master
pointed to the empty hook, saying, 'Now, Jack, your business to-morrow
is to clane out a stable that wasn't claned for the last seven years,
and if you don't have it finished before dusk--do you see that hook?'
“'Ye--yes,' replied Jack, hardly able to spake.
“'Well, if you don't have it finished before dusk, your head will be
hanging on that hook as soon as the sun sets.'
“'Very well, your honor,' replied Jack; scarcely knowing what he said,
or he wouldn't have said 'very well' to such a bloody-minded intention,
any how---'Very well,' says he, 'I'll do my best, and all the world
knows that the best can do no more.'
“Whilst this discoorse was passing betune them, Jack happened to look
at the upper end of the room, and there he saw one of the beautifullest
faces that ever was seen on a woman, looking at him through a little
panel that was in the wall. She had a white, snowy forehead--such
eyes, and cheeks, and teeth, that there's no coming up to them; and the
clusters of dark hair that hung about her beautiful temples!--by the
laws, I'm afeard of falling in love with her myself, so I'll say no more
about her, only that she would charm the heart of a wheel-barrow. At any
rate, in spite of all the ould fellow could say--heads and hooks, and
all, Jack couldn't help throwing an eye, now and then, to the panel; and
to tell the truth, if he had been born to riches and honor, it would be
hard to fellow him, for a good face and a good figure.
“'Now, Jack,' says his master, 'go and eat your supper, and I hope
you'll be able to perform your task--if not, off goes your head.'
“'Very well, your honor,' says Jack, again scratching it in the hoith of
perplexity, 'I must only do what I can.'
“The next morning Jack was up with the sun, if not before him, and hard
at his task; but before breakfast time he lost all heart, and little
wonder he should, poor fellow, bekase for every one shovelful he'd throw
out, there would come three more in: so that instead of making his
task less, according as he got on, it became greater. He was now in the
greatest dilemmy, and didn't know how to manage, so he was driven at
last to such an amplush, that he had no other shift for employment,
only to sing _Paddeen O'Rafferty_ out of mere vexation, and dance the
hornpipe trebling step to it, cracking his fingers, half mad, through
the stable. Just in the middle of this tantrum, who comes to the door to
call him to his breakfast, but the beautiful crathur he saw the evening
before peeping at him through the panel. At this minute, Jack had so
hated himself by the dancing, that his handsome face was in a fine glow,
entirely.
“'I think,' said, she to Jack, with one of her own sweet smiles, 'that
this is an odd way of performing your task.'
“'Och, thin, 'tis you that may say that,' replies Jack; 'but it's myself
that's willing to have my head hung up any day, just for one sight of
you, you darling.'
“'Where did you come from?' asked the lady, with another smile that bate
the first all to nothing.
“'Where did I come from, is it?' answered Jack; 'why, death-alive!
did you never hear of ould Ireland, my jewel!--hem--I mane, plase your
ladyship's honor.'
“'No,' she answered; 'where is that country?'
“'Och, by the honor of an Irishman,' says Jack, 'that takes the
shine!--not heard of Erin--the Imerald Isle--the Jim of the ocean, where
all the men are brave and honorable, and all the women--hem--I mane the
ladies--chaste and beautiful?'
“'No,' said she; 'not a word: but if I stay longer I may get you
blame--come in to your breakfast, and I'm sorry to find that you have
done so little at your task. Your roaster's a man that always acts up to
what he threatens: and, if you have not this stable cleared out before
dusk, your head will be taken of your shoulders this night.'
“'Why, thin,' says Jack, 'my beautiful darl--plase your honor's
ladyship--if he Dangs it up, will you do me the favor, _acushla
machree_, to turn my head toardst that same panel where I saw a sartin
fair face that I won't mintion: and if you do, let me alone for watching
a sartin purty face I'm acquainted with.'
“'What means _cushla machree?_ inquired the lady, as she turned to go
away.
“'It manes that you're the pulse of my heart, avourneen, plase your
ladyship's Reverence,' says Jack.
“'Well,' said the lovely crathur, 'any time you speak to me in future,
I would rather you would omit terms of honor, and just call me after the
manner of your own country; instead, for instance, of calling me
your ladyship, I would be better pleased if you called me
cushla--something--' 'Cushla machree, ma vourneen--the pulse of my
heart--my darling,' said Jack, consthering it (the thief) for her, for
fraid she wouldn't know it well enough.
“'Yes,' she replied, 'cushla machree; well, as I can pronounce it,
acushla machree, will you come in to your breakfast?' said the darling,
giving Jack a smile that would be enough, any day, to do up the heart
of an Irishman. Jack, accordingly, went after her, thinking of nothing
except herself; but on going in he could see no sign of her, so he-sat
down to his breakfast, though a single ounce, barring a couple of pounds
of beef, the poor fellow couldn't ate, at that bout, for' thinking of
her.
“Well, he went again to his work, and thought he'd have better luck; but
it was still the ould game--three shovelfuls would come in for ev'ry one
he'd throw out; and now he began, in earnest, to feel something about
his heart that he didn't like, bekase he couldn't, for the life of him,
help thinking of the three hundred and sixty-four heads, and the empty
hook. At last he gave up the work entirely, and took it into his head to
make himself scarce from about the old fellow's castle, altogether; and
without more to do, he set off, never saying as much as 'good-bye' to
his master: but he hadn't got as far as the lower end of the yard, when
his ould friend, the dog, steps out of a kennel, and meets him full but
in the teeth.
“'So, Jack,' says he, 'you're going to give us leg bail, I see; but walk
back with yourself, you spalpeen, this minute, and join your work, or
if you don't,' says he, 'it'll be worse for your health. I'm not so much
your enemy now as I was, bekase you have a friend in coort that you know
nothing about; so just do whatever you are bid, and keep never minding.'
“Jack went back with a heavy heart, as you may be sure, knowing that,
whenever the black cur began to blarney him, there was no good to come
in his way. He accordingly went into the stable, but consuming to the
hand's turn he did, knowing it would be only useless; for, instead of
clearing it out, he'd be only filling it.
“It was near dinner-time, and Jack was very sad and sorrowful, as how
could he be otherwise, poor fellow, with such a bloody-minded ould chap
to dale with? when up comes the darling of the world again, to call him
to his dinner.
“'Well, Jack,' says she, with her white arms so beautiful, and her dark
clusters tossed about by the motion of her walk--how are you coming on
at your task?' 'How am I coming on, is it? Och, thin,' says Jack, giving
a good-humored smile through the frown that was on his face, 'plase your
lady--a cushla machree--it's all over with me; for I've still the same
story to tell, and off goes my head, as sure as it's on my shoulders,
this blessed night.'
“'That would be a pity, Jack,' says she, 'for there are worse heads on
worse shoulders; but will you give me the shovel?' 'Will I give you
the shovel, is it?--Och thin, wouldn't I be a right big baste to do the
likes of that, any how?' says Jack; 'what! avourneen dheelish! to stand
up with myself, and let this hard shovel into them beautiful, soft,
white hands of your own! Faix, my jewel, if you knew but all, my
mother's son's not the man to do such a disgraceful turn, as to let a
lady like you take the shovel out of his hand, and he standing with his
mouth under his nose, looking at you--not myself auourneen! we have no
such ungenteel manners as that in our country.' 'Take my advice, Jack,'
says she, pleased in her heart at what Jack said, for all she didn't
purtend it--'give me the shovel, and depend upon it, I'll do more in a
short time to clear the stable than you would for years.' 'Why, thin,
avour-neen, it goes to my heart to refuse you; but, for all that, may
I never see yesterday, if a taste of it will go into your purty, white
fingers,' says the thief, praising her to her face all the time--'my
head may go off, any day, and welcome, but death before dishonor. Say no
more, darling; but tell your father I'll be to my dinner immediately.'
“Notwithstanding all this, by jingo, the lady would not be put off; like
a raal woman, she'd have her own way; so on telling Jack that she didn't
intend to work with the shovel, at all, at all, but only to take it for
a minute in her hand, at long last he gave it to her; she then struck
it three times on the threshel of the door, and, giving it back into his
hand, tould him to try what he could do. Well, sure enough, now there
was a change; for, instead of three shovelfuls coming in, as before,
when he threw one out, there went nine more along with it. Jack,
in coorse, couldn't do less than thank the lovely crathur for her
assistance; but when he raised his head to speak to her, she was gone.
I needn't say, howsomever, that he went in to his dinner with a light
heart and a murdhering appetite; and when the ould fellow axed him how
he was coming on, Jack tould him he was doing gloriously. 'Remember the
empty hook, Jack,' said he. 'Never fear, your honor,' answered Jack, 'if
I don't finish my task, you may bob my head off anytime.'
“Jack now went out, and was a short time getting through his job, for
before the sun set it was finished, and he came into the kitchen, ate
his supper, and, sitting down before the fire, sung 'Love among the
Roses,' and the 'Black Joke,' to vex the ould fellow.
“This was one task over, and his head was safe for that bout; but that
night, before he went to bed, his master called him upstairs, brought
him into the bloody room, and gave him his orders for the next day.
'Jack,' says he, 'I have a wild filly that has never been caught,
and you must go to my demesne to-morrow, and catch her, or if you
don't--look there,' says the big blackguard, 'on that hook it hangs,
before to-morrow, if you havn't her at sunset in the stable that you
claned yesterday.' 'Very well, your honor,' said Jack, carelessly, 'I'll
do every thing in my power, and if I fail, I can't help it.'
“The next morning, Jack was out with a bridle in his hand, going to
catch the filly. As soon as he got into the domain, sure enough, there
she was in the middle of a green field, grazing quite at her ase. When
Jack saw this he went over towards her, houlding out his hat as if it
was full of oats; but he kept the hand that had the bridle in it behind
his back, for fraid she'd see it and make off. Well, my dear, on he went
till he was almost within grip of her, cock-sure that he had nothing
more to do than slip the bridle over her neck and secure her; but he
made a bit of a mistake in his reckoning, for though she smelt and
snoaked about him, just as if she didn't care a feed of oats whether he
caught her or not, yet when he boulted over to hould her fast, she was
off like a shot with her tail cocked, to the far end of the demesne,
and Jack had to set off hot foot after here. All, however, was to no
purpose; he couldn't come next or near her for the rest of the day, and
there she kept coorsing him about from one field to another, till he
hadn't a blast of breath in his body.
“In this state was Jack when the beautiful crathur came out to call
him home to his breakfast, walking with the pretty small feet and
light steps of her own upon the green fields, so bright and beautiful,
scarcely bending the flowers and the grass as she went along, the
darling.
“'Jack,' says she, 'I fear you have as difficult a task to-day as you
had yesterday.'
“'Why, and it's you that may say that with your own purty mouth,' says
Jack, says he; for out of breath and all as he was, he couldn't help
giving her a bit of blarney, the rogue.
“'Well, Jack,' says she, 'take my advice, and don't tire yourself any
longer by attempting to catch her; truth's, best--I tell you, you could
never do it; come home to your breakfast, and when you return again,
'just amuse yourself as well as you can until dinner-time.'
“'Och, och!' says Jack, striving to look, the sly thief, as if she had
promised to help him--'I only wish I was a king, and, by the powers,
I know who would be my queen, any how; for it's your own sweet
lady--savourneen dheelish--I say, amn't I bound to you for a year and
a day longer, for promising to give me a lift, as well as for what you
done yesterday?'
“'Take care, Jack,' says she, smiling, however, at his ingenuity in
striving to trap her into a promise, 'I don't think I made any promise
of assistance.'
“'You didn't,' says Jack, wiping his face with the skirt of his coat,
''cause why?--you see pocket-handkerchiefs weren't invented in them
times: 'why, thin, may I never live to see yesterday, if there's not
as much rale beauty in that smile that's diverting itself about them
sweet-breathing lips of yours, and in them two eyes of light that's
breaking both their hearts laughing at me, this minute, as would
encourage any poor fellow to expect a good turn from you--that is, whin
you could do it, without hurting or harming yourself; for it's he would
be the right rascal that could take it, if it would injure a silken hair
of your head.'
“'Well,' said the lady, with a mighty roguish smile, 'I shall call you
home to your dinner, at all events.'
“When Jack went back from his breakfast, he didn't slave himself after
the filly toy more, but walked about to view the demesne, and the
avenues, and the green walks, and nice temples, and fish-ponds, and
rookeries, and everything, in short, that was worth seeing. Towards
dinner-time, howiver, he began to have an eye to the way the sweet
crathur was to come, and sure enough she that wasn't one minute late.
“'Well, Jack,' says she, 'I'll keep you no longer in doubt:' for the
tender-hearted crathur saw that Jack, although he didn't wish to let
an to her, was fretting every now and then about the odd hook and the
bloody room--'So, Jack,' says she, 'although I didn't promise, yet I'll
perform;' and with that she pulled a small ivory whistle out of her
pocket, and gave three blasts on it that brought the wild filly up to
her very hand, as quick as the wind. She then took the bridle, and threw
it over the baste's neck, giving her up, at the same time, to Jack; 'You
needn't fear now, Jack,' says she, 'you'll find her as quiet as a lamb,
and as tame as you wish; as proof of it, just walk before her, and you
will see she will follow you to any part of the field.'
“Jack, you maybe sure, paid her as many and as sweet compliments as
he could, and never heed one from his country for being able to say
something toothsome to the ladies. At any rate, if he laid it on thick
the day before, he gave two or three additional coats this time, and the
innocent soul went away smiling, as usual.
“When Jack brought the filly home, the dark fellow, his master, if dark
before, was a perfect thunder-cloud this night: bedad, he was nothing
less than near bursting with vexation, bekaise the thieving ould sinner
intended to have Jack's head upon the hook, but he fell short in his
reckoning now as well as before. Jack sung 'Love among the Roses,' and
the 'Black Joke,' to help him into better timper.
“'Jack,' says he, striving to make himself speak pleasant to him,
'you've got two difficult tasks over you; but you know the third time's
the charm--take care of the next.'
“'No matter about that,' says Jack, speaking up to him stiff and stout,
bekase, as the dog tould him, he knew he had a friend in coort--'let's
hear what it is, any how.'
“'To-morrow, then,' says the other, 'you're to rob a crane's nest, on
the top of a beech-tree which grows in the middle of a little island in
the lake that you saw yesterday in my demesne; you're to have neither
boat, nor oar, nor any kind of conveyance, but just as you stand; and if
you fail to bring me the eggs, or if you break one of them,--look here!'
says he, again pointing to the odd hook, for all this discoorse took
place in the bloody room.
“'Good again,' says Jack; 'if I fail I know my doom.'
“'No, you don't, you spalpeen,' says the other, getting vexed with him
entirely, 'for I'll roast you till you're half dead, and ate my dinner
off you after; and, what is more than that, you blackguard, you must
sing the 'Black Joke' all the time for my amusement.'
“'Div'l fly away with you,' thought Jack, 'but you're fond of music, you
vagabone.'
“The next morning Jack was going round and round the lake, trying about
the edge of it, if he could find any place shallow enough to wade in;
but he might as well go to wade the say, and what was worst of all, if
he attempted to swim, it would be like a tailor's goose, straight to
the bottom; so he kept himself safe on dry land, still expecting a visit
from the 'lovely crathur,' but, bedad, his good luck failed him for
wanst, for instead of seeing her coming over to him, so mild and sweet,
who does he obsarve steering at a dog's trot, but his ould friend the
smoking cur. 'Confusion to that cur,' says Jack to himself, 'I know now
there's some bad fortune before me, or he wouldn't be coming acrass me.'
“'Come home to your breakfast, Jack,' says the dog, walking up to him,
'it's breakfast time.'
“'Ay,' says Jack, scratching his head, 'it's no matter whether I do or
not, for I bleeve my head's hardly worth a flat-dutch cabbage at the
present speaking.'
“'Why, man, it was never worth so much,' says the baste, pulling out his
pipe and putting it in his mouth, when it lit at once.
“'Take care of yourself,' says Jack, quite desperate,--for he thought he
was near the end of his tether,--'take care of yourself, you dirty cur,
or maybe I might take a gintleman's toe from your tail.'
“'You had better keep a straight tongue in your head,' says four-legs,
'while it's on your shoulders, or I'll break every bone in your
skin--Jack, you're a fool,' says he, checking himself, and speaking
kindly to him--'you're a fool; didn't I tell you the other day to do
what you were bid, and keep never minding?'
“'Well,' thought Jack to himself, 'there's no use in making him any more
my enemy than he is--particularly as I'm in such a hobble.'
“'You lie,' says the dog, as if Jack had spoken out to him, wherein he
only thought the words to himself, 'you lie,' says he, 'I'm not, nor
never was, your enemy, if you knew but all.'
“'I beg your honor's pardon,' answers Jack, 'for being so smart with
your honor, but, bedad, if you were in my case,--if you expected your
master to roast you alive,--eat his dinner of your body,--make you sing
the 'Black Joke,' by way of music for him; and, to crown all, know that
your head was to be stuck upon a hook after--maybe you would be a little
short, in your temper, as well as your neighbors.'
“'Take heart, Jack,' says the other, laying his fore claw as knowingly
as ever along his nose, and winking slyly at Jack, didn't I tell you
that you had a friend in coort--the day's not past yet, so cheer up, who
knows but there is luck before you still?'
“'Why, thin,' says Jack, getting a little cheerful, and wishing to crack
a joke with him, 'but your honor's very fond of the pipe!' 'Oh! don't
you know, Jack,' says he, 'that that's the fashion at present among my
tribe; sure all my brother puppies smoke now, and a man might as well be
out of the world as out of the fashion, you know.'