The folk of Furry Farm

by K. F. Purdon

The land was different on the two places; the houses were different; and the people were different, too. Heffernan’s was well enough, in the way of it being comfortable and plentiful; but it was lonesome and no great appearance of tastiness about it. But Flanagan’s had a snug, bright look. The two daughters were always contriving some little thing to give it a look. It was all neat and clean; with a rose growing over the door, and the walls whitewashed to that degree, that when the sun shone on them, they would dazzle you, nigh-hand.

“Like a smile upon a rosy face!” Jim Cassidy used to think to himself, when he would be taking a streel up the hill, of a Sunday or a holiday evening. And when a boy takes to that kind of talk, it’s easy to guess what he has in his mind.

With Jim, I may as well tell you, it was little Nelly Flanagan that he was thinking about; though when he’d be there, it was all to chat to the old father he had come, by the way of!

And Nelly that took no more heed of Jim than of any other boy about Ardenoo! What was she, only a child! no more; as gay and as frolicsome as a pet lamb. But still in all, Nelly was very nice, and biddable. She would do anything in this world wide that the elder sister, Christina, would say. And why wouldn’t she?

Here’s who were living at Greenan-more at that time: old Flanagan himself; a real old Sport. Not a fair or a funeral, a wake or a wedding in all Ardenoo, but he’d make it his business to be there; and with him there lived his two girls, Christina and Nelly.

The mother had died soon after Nelly being born; had no great comfort with Flanagan, and no wish to go on living. So when she felt herself to be on the last, all she said was: “I’ll give the baby to you, Chrissie!” There’s the pet name she had for her.

And Christina, that was only a little slip of a thing, about nine or ten years old, took on at once to mind the infant, and was like a little mother to her. Those that would be in and out of the house said it was most amazing, the way she cared the little sister. She was very wise and sensible, and as good as she could be, every way.

In fact, as time went on, the two sisters were just made upon each other, as the saying is. They were always together; Christina made a baby of Nelly and Nelly made a mother of Christina. And what caused this the more with them was, the father being the sort he was; taking very little heed of anything, only his own amusement. That is all right enough, in its way. But it doesn’t help you to get on in this world; and I don’t know is it apt to do much for you in the next. What Flanagan and men like him don’t spend in their playing about, they waste in idleness. Christina did as much as ever she could. But on a farm, there’s always many things that a woman can’t do.

And this is how she began first to be thinking a good deal about Jim Cassidy. For he was very smart. He would see with half an eye what was wrong, and set it right while another would be wondering what ought to be done. He was ready and willing to do anything in life for them at Flanagan’s, so that Christina, that was what we call the sense-carrier of the family, got to depend on Jim for every hand’s turn that wanted doing about Greenan-more; such as the drawing home of the turf from the bog; or getting the hay or oats saved, or buying in a couple of young pigs to be fattened. Of course, the selling of the stock had to be left to Flanagan himself; and that was the pity; and was little good to either him or his girls. He would no sooner have the price of the cattle or sheep or whatever it might be, paid into his hand, than he’d go off on a spree, and then you couldn’t tell what he’d be up to; as likely as not, never come home, till he’d have it spent.

What the girls had for themselves was anything they could make of the butter and eggs, the geese and turkeys and so on. They were satisfied enough, they didn’t want so much. So was the old father, contented in his own way.