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AN IRISH COUSIN.
BY
GEILLES HERRING AND MARTIN ROSS.
_IN TWO VOLUMES._
VOL. I.
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LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON,
Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen.
1889.
(_All rights reserved._)
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CONTENTS.
PART I.
_AN EXPERIMENT._
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
THE “ALASKA”.....1
“In that new world which was the old.”
CHAPTER II.
AUNT JANE.....7
“Sing Hey! when I preside.”
CHAPTER III.
MY COUSIN WILLY.....27
“Willy’s fair and Willy’s rare,
And Willy’s wondrous bonny.”
CHAPTER IV.
THE MASTER OF DURRUS.....44
“My father’s brother; but no more like my father than I to Hercules.”
CHAPTER V.
IMPRESSIONS.....60
“Groping in the windy stair,
Darkness and the breath of space
Like loud waters everywhere.”
CHAPTER VI.
AN IRISH SUNDAY.....70
“In Islington there was a man,
Of whom the world might say,
That still a godly race he ran,
Whene’er he went to pray.”
CHAPTER VII.
MOLL.....89
“Or in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush suppos’d a bear!”
CHAPTER VIII.
SCHOOLING.....97
“Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend,
How went he under him?”
“This is the prettiest low-born lass----”
CHAPTER IX.
“THE TURF, THE CHASE, AND THE ROAD”.....114
“_Ford._ Old woman! What old woman’s that?
* * * * *
A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean!
Have I not forbid her my house?”
CHAPTER X.
THE MOYCULLEN HOUNDS.....133
“On the first day of spring, in the year ’93,
The first recreation in this countheree,
The King’s counthry gintlemen o’er hills, dales, and rocks,
They rode out so gallant in search of a fox.”
CHAPTER XI.
NUGENT O’NEILL.....152
“He is the toniest aristocrat on the boat.”
CHAPTER XII.
A VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY.....165
“And wouldst thou leave me thus? Say Nay.”
CHAPTER XIII.
A DINNER-PARTY.....177
“Go, let him have a table by himself!
For he does neither affect company,
Nor is he fit for’t, indeed.”
CHAPTER XIV.
IN SOCIETY.....199
“Ah! Then was it all spring weather?
Nay, but we were young and together.”
“Society is now one polished horde
Formed of two mighty tribes, the Bores and Bored.”
CHAPTER XV.
AN AMERICAN GIRL.....218
“She’s always been kind of off-ish and partic’lar for
a gal that’s raised in the woods.”
CHAPTER XVI.
FERRETING.....239
“I do perceive here a divided duty.”
CHAPTER XVII.
POTATO CAKES.....263
“The tenacious depths of the quicksand, as is usual
in such cases, retained their prey.”
PART II.
_THE COST OF IT._
CHAPTER I.
MRS. JACKSON-CROLY AT HOME.....280
“Fate’s a fiddler, life’s a dance.”
“O’Rorke’s noble feast will ne’er be forgot
By those who were there, and those who were not.”
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AN IRISH COUSIN.
PART I.
_AN EXPERIMENT._
CHAPTER I.
THE “ALASKA.”
“In that new world which was the old.”
There had been several days of thick, murky weather--dull, uncomplaining
days that bore their burden of fog and rain in monotonous endurance. Six
of such I had lived through; a passive existence, parcelled out to me by
the uncomprehended clanging of bells, and the, to me, still more
incomprehensible clatter which, recurring at regular intervals, told
that a hungry multitude were plying their knives and forks in the
saloon.
But a change had come at last; and on Saturday morning, instead of the
usual heaving ridges of grey water, I saw through the port-hole the
broken green glitter of sunlit waves. The s.s. _Alaska’s_ lurching
plunge had subsided into a smooth unimpeded rushing through the water,
and for the first time since I had left New York, the desire for food
and human companionship awoke in me.
“Stewardess,” I said, “get me a cup of tea. I am going on deck.”
It was early when I came on deck. The sun was still low in the
south-east, and was spreading a long road of rays toward us, up which
the big steamer was hurrying, dividing the radiancy into shining lines,
that writhed backwards from her bows till they were lost in the foaming
turmoil astern.
A light north wind was blowing from a low-lying coast on our left,
bringing, as I fancied, some faint suggestion of fields and woods. I
walked across the snowy deck, to where a sailor was engaged in a
sailor’s seemingly invariable occupation of coiling a rope in a neat
circle.
“I suppose that is Ireland?” I said, pointing to the land.
“Yes, miss; that’s the county Cork right enough. We’ll be into
Queenstown in a matter of three hours now.”
“Three hours more!” I said to myself, while I watched the headlands
slowly changing their shapes as we steamed past. It would soon begin
now, this new phase of my life, whether I wished it or not. It had once
seemed impossible; now it was inevitable. My destiny was no longer in my
own control, and its secret was, perhaps, hidden among those blue Irish
hills, which looked as if they were waiting for me to come and prove
what they had in store for me.
“Well, it has been my own doing,” I thought; “whatever comes of it, I
have only myself to thank; and whether they like or dislike me, I shall
have to make the best of them, and they of me.”
“First breakfast just ready, miss,” said one of the innumerable
ship-stewards, scurrying past me with cups of tea on a tray.
I paid no attention to the suggestion, and made my way to a deck chair
just vacated by an elderly gentleman. I could not bring myself to go
below. The fresh sweet wind, the seagulls glancing against the blue sky,
the sunshine that gleamed broadly from the water and made a dazzling
mimic sun of each knob and point of brasswork about the ship,--to
exchange these for the fumes of bacon and eggs, and the undesired
conversation of some chance fellow-passenger, seemed out of the
question.
Moreover, I was too restless and excited to care about breakfast just
then. The sight of the land had given new life to expectations and hopes
from which most of the glory had departed during the ignominious misery
of the last six days. I lay in my deck chair, idly watching the black
river of smoke that streamed back from the funnels, and for the first
time found a certain dubious enjoyment in the motion of the vessel, as
she progressed with that slight roll in her gait which the sea confers
upon all its _habitués_.
Most people appear to think that sea-sickness, if spoken of at all,
should be treated as an involuntarily comic episode, to be dealt with in
a facetious manner. But for me it has only two aspects--the pathetic
and the revolting; the former being the point of view from which I
regard my own sufferings, and the latter having reference to those of
others. In the dark hours spent in my state-room, I had had abundant
opportunity to formulate and verify this theory, and I have never since
then seen any reason to depart from it.
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