TIM MALONEY'S PIG.
CH, thin, mate, an' yer don't appair to be takin' kindly to yer wark the morn! Shure, an' I'm rale 'shamed uv ye, afther yer day's plasurin'," remarked Tim Maloney, a broad-shouldered, good-tempered looking Irishman, to his fellow-workman, who, with sundry grunts and ejaculations expressive of discontent with the world in general, and his own hard-working existence in particular, had just lazily emptied his hod of bricks at the feet of Tim, who was briskly disposing of them, with many dexterous pats and turns of his trowel, as he laid them, one by one, upon the wall he was engaged in building. It was early in the morning of the day following a public holiday; and, of all the workmen employed upon the block of houses in course of erection, only Tim Maloney and John Jarvis had made their appearance, the latter of whom seemed none the better for the previous day's cessation from toil.
He answered gloomily:
"All very well for the likes of you, Tim Maloney, to be chaffin' a feller; but I'd like to know if you'd feel fit to kill yerself with work if you'd been draggin' about the day afore with the missis a scoldin', and half a dozen brats at yer heels as gave yer no peace, a spendin' of yer hard-earned money, and seein' nought for it."
Tim picked up a brick, and placed it tenderly in the mortar bed he had just prepared, then said:
"An' isn't it bacomin' that the wife uv yer bossum and the childer should share yer holiday, an' hilp yer to spind yer money, me bhoy?"
"I can't say as it isn't," frankly replied John; "but some wives is different to others; and mine just nags and worrits and gives a feller no peace of his life, and the children takes after her."
"Shure, an' what does she nag and worrit ye about thin?" asked Tim, with a twinkle in his eye; but at that moment John shouldered his empty hod and disappeared.
"The ould sthory, shure an' certin," muttered Tim, and in his honest, kindly heart, for the hundredth time, revolved many a scheme for helping and stimulating his fellow-workman to a better life.
The breakfast bell presently rang, and John Jarvis, who lived at a little distance, threw himself at full length upon some boards, grumbling at his wife for being late with his breakfast.
"Maybe she's wearied herself wid followin' ye an' yer half dozen brats yester," dryly suggested Tim, as he threw down his trowel and strode away to his cottage home close by, where a plentiful meal awaited him. Certainly, when he met Mrs. Jarvis the next minute, she looked sufficiently white and fagged to justify his suggestion.
"Mornin' to ye," he said, nodding and hurrying by.
But Tim's cottage lay in Mrs. Jarvis's homeward way, and as her lagging footsteps passed the door, the buxom form of Tim's wife appeared.
"Come in, an' rist ye a spell, Mrs. Jarvis; ye look more fit for yer bed nor to be draggin' about at all, at all."
"It's just what I am. I'm sure I don't know what's coming to me," exclaimed Mrs. Jarvis, as she dropped into a chair.
"Give her a dhrop uv tay, Peggy, an' she'll ravive a bit," said Tim.
"You're very kind, Tim. Why, this tea is real good, as good as what the gentry drinks. I feel quite a different creature after it, I declare;" and Mrs. Jarvis presently set down her empty cup with a surprised air.
"I can't think how you manage, Mrs. Maloney. Here's your husband earning the same wages as mine, yet you can afford to live a sight better than us; you're better dressed too, and what a fine place you've got; and isn't that pig in the garden yours?"
Mrs. Jarvis's eyes had roamed from the bright, clean kitchen, through the open window to the well-stocked garden, where, in a corner, stood a sty, the occupant of which was rooting and grunting in the manner peculiar to his kind.
"Indade, an' ye're rayte; a fine porker he is too. I'll sind ye up a bit whin we kill, an' ye shall tasthe for yerself."
"Thank you kindly, Tim. It's not often we can afford to indulge in a bit of bacon now. Times are so hard, you see," returned Mrs. Jarvis, with a look of still deeper perplexity upon her face as she rose to go.
Tim whispered to his wife who nodded, and then turned to Mrs. Jarvis, saying:
"Now, don't ye be thrudgin' up wid yer husban's bit uv dinner. My Tim'll bring him home, an' he's kindly wilcome to the bist of our purvidin'."
Mrs. Jarvis was certainly weak and unnerved, for she fell back into her seat and began to sob.
"Whist, now, did ye think we mane to pisin yer good man?" said Tim, cheerily.
"No, no, indeed; but I don't know what to make of such kindness. It's nothing but cross words and scowling looks I ever get."
Tim sat down with a determined air.
"Jist dhry yer eyes, me dear, and listhen to me; bekase I mane it all for yer good, and Jack's too, poor bhoy!"
Tim continued: "Ye're both uv ye makin' a therrible big misthake that'll ruin ye in time an' etarnity. Here's Jack, a sheer lump uv misary, wid no heart for wark nor play, an' here's yerself a frettin' an' a pinin' yer life away; an' yer poor childer's like to thread in yer stheps. An' here's mesilf an' me wife, no betther an' no wurse off in the matther uv brass nor ye, as happy an' comforthable as ye'd wish, an' all bekase uv that same big misthake ye're makin'."
"What do you mean, Tim?" inquired Mrs. Jarvis, wiping her eyes.
"Jack 'ud know what I mane, for he's had the lingth uv me tongue many's the time on that same subjact; but I'll till ye, an' maybe ye'll lay it to heart betther nor he. Mrs. Jarvis, if ye'll belave me, it's the dhrink that's at the botthom uv yer misary."
"I won't hear you say such dreadful things, Tim. My Jack's no drinker, nor me neither. We're both of us moderate, and never—never—" but here Mrs. Jarvis faltered; and, eyeing her steadily, Tim went on:
"Ye niver, niver take a dhrop too much 'cept on holiday times, an' sich like; an' thin, what wid the boddher uv the childer, an' the sayte seein', an' the heat, maybe ye git a little overcome wid what ye take to quanch yer thirst."
"I dare say you're right, Tim," said Mrs. Jarvis, very much ashamed; "but I mean to say that my Jack and me don't do what some folks do in the way of drinking. He doesn't spend his evenings in the public, except now and then; and, as for me, I only take what will keep body and soul together, though I confess you're pretty near the truth as to taking more than is good on holidays."
"Well, we won't say anythin' about sich times. But supposin' it's to-day, ye'll kape about till the childer's home from school, an' the first thing'll be: 'Here, Sammie, fetch me a pint of bitther,'—it's bitther, I suppose?"
"Yes, I can't drink swill, there's no strength in it," said Mrs. Jarvis.
"Then you'll feel spry for a bit; but it don't last, an' ye want to sit down an' take a nap afore the fire; an' whin ye git up ye feel out uv sorts, an' the babby's a burdhen, an' yer toddlin' Jim's a plague; an' by the time that afthernoon school's done ye want windin' up agin, an' ye must have half a pint afore ye touch yer tay; an' whin Jack fetches the supper beer, ye're more than riddy to take yer share. Thin ye slape heavy like, an' if the babby wants seein' to ye can scarce wake; an' ye don't know how to dhrag yersilf up in the mornin', an' ye wish ye'd got a dhrink uv beer handy to give ye a sthart, on'y ye haven't the face to sind for it afore breakfast; but, ye may belave me, ye'll do that wan uv these days; an' the more ye take uv the pisenin' stuff, the more ye'll want, an' the wurse ye'll feel, for there's no strength an' no good in it at all, at all. It jist gives ye a little spurt for the time, but it's over in a jiffy, an' ye're cross an' fretful wid iverythin' an' iverybody, an' life's a burdhen from morn till night. An' it's jist the same wid Jack, poor bhoy. An' thin, whin ye might git a few hours of plasure, ye're in an' out uv the public-houses till ye're fair fuddled; an' the nixt day ye've both sore heads and sour tempers, an' yer money's gone inter the bargain."
"Do you really think there's no good in the beer, Tim? It does seem to put new life into one; and I hanker after it when I'm weakly."
"Uv coorse, that's nateral, whin ye feel sthronger an' betther afther a glass; but I've sthudied the quastion, an' wiser heads nor mine'll tell ye jist as I do,—that it takes out uv a bodhy more nor it iver puts in. It gives ye for a space what ye want; but ye have to pay for it at an awful rate uv intherest."
Mrs. Jarvis looked frightened; but Tim proceeded in still graver tones:
"It's the mortal thruth as I'm tellin' ye, indade an' indade; for ye have to pay for ivery bit uv go that yer glass uv bitther gives ye wid yer ha'pence first, uv coorse, an' afther wid loss uv yer good timper, an' the time ye spind in pullin' yersilf togither agin. Ye have to pay wid a wakely bodhy and a heavy heart; so the childer's sint out uv yer sayte to git inter mischif an' sin; and yer husban' niver sees yer face wid a smile on it, an' niver hears ye spake a kindly word. An' sooner nor later ye'll find ye'll have to pay for yer bitther wid the loss uv husban' an' childer; for, ye may belave me, the time'll come, bad cess to ye, whin Jack'll spind ivery blissid night at the public, an' yer childer will make ye sup sorra be rasin uv turnin' to bad ways; for there's no worritin' wives at the public, an' no grumblin' mothers round the sthreet corners. An' that's the last worrud I can say, for the bell'll ring afore another minit."
With a nod to his wife, and a kindly "good mornin'" to Mrs. Jarvis, Tim hastened away.
"My missis says I'm to fitch ye home to dinner wid me, Jack, an' she's tould yer wife that same; so come along wid ye, for ye'll git nought but air for all ye're growlin' if ye stay there," were the words that fell on John Jarvis's astonished ears, as he lay watching his companion get into his coat at the dinner hour.
"Well, I never, if that don't beat all," he exclaimed, jumping up and seizing his own coat. "What's put that into her head?"
"Case yer quastions an' look sharp now, for I want ye to have a look round me bit uv ground afther dinner," good-humouredly replied Tim.
The meal to which John presently sat down was simple enough but abundant, and such as he seldom partook of at his own table. He could not help also contrasting the bright, happy faces of Tim's wife and children with his own. He became silent and absorbed in thought, as he walked round Tim's garden when the repast was ended.
"Ye're an' illigant slip uv a pig, an'll make good mate to ralish the bread an' praties nixt winter, shure now, won't ye?" said Tim, addressing himself to the bristly porker who grunted his approval of his master's hand, as the two men leaned over the sty.
"I'd advase ye to kape a pig, Jack; ye've no idaya how handy a bit uv bacon is through the winter, wid so many mouths to be fadin'."
"You might just as well advise me to set up a carriage and pair," answered John, somewhat testily.
"Nonsinse, ye might do it jist as aisy as mesilf."
"I'd like to know how you make that out, when I never have a penny to bless myself with after I've paid up on Saturday nights."
"Jist tell me how much ye an' yer ould woman spind a week in beer," was the unexpected reply.
"At yer old game, matey, eh; well, really now, I can't say. Perhaps I take three pints a day; not much for a working man, Tim."
"An' maybe yer wife wad take a pint an' a half uv bitther, that wad make sixpence a day for yersilf, an' fourpence ha'pinny for hersilf; an' ye know ye ofthen spind more nor that. That 'ud make six shillin' an' a pinny three farthin's a wake; wan poun' six shillin' an' eight pince a month; an' sixteen poun' a year. How many pigs de ye sind down yer throats at that rate in the coorse uv twelve months, me bhoy?"
John Jarvis stood open-eyed and open-mouthed.
"Sixteen pound a year! What on earth have I been a doin'? Sixteen pound a year; who'd have thought it!" he ejaculated presently; and no more could Tim get out of him, till, late in the afternoon of that day, he emptied a hod of bricks at Tim's feet with such energy that Tim looked up astonished.
"I've made up my mind, Tim, to have a pig. I've been a fool, and thank'ee for as good as tellin' of me;" and then, as if afraid to trust himself to say more, he turned away to his work.
That night he and his wife, in the course of a long conversation, not necessary to record here, made certain resolves; two of which were never to spend any money in beer, and to try and do their duty better to each other and their children than they ever had done.
In future years they never ceased to be thankful for the promises then made, which, being faithfully kept, bore fruit in a happy home, and the envied worldly prosperity which was their neighbour's.
