“But when we consider the unimportance of our own troubles, and the importance of the principal parts of the British Empire, such as Ireland, England, Scotland, Australia and T. P. O’Connor, our insignificance looms up before our gaze, and almost strikes us in the face, so to speak.”
“And ’tis surprising it doesn’t obliterate us altogether,” said Padna. “However, let us forget Tay Pay O’Connor for a little while, as he will never do so himself, and I will tell you a story about one Cormac McShane from the townland of Ballinderry.”
“On with the story; I am always glad to hear tell of some one worth talking about,” said Micus.
“Well,” said Padna, “Cormac was as fine a looking man as ever broke his promises. And unless you had great astuteness of observation, and an eye like a hawk or a landlady, you wouldn’t see the likes of him in a twelvemonth, even though you might be gallivanting through the streets every day. And while nature treated him rather well, for the poor man he was, Dame Fortune seemed to have ignored him altogether, until he took his fate in his own hands, and then things began to improve. But to make a short story as long as I can, like the journalists and modern novelists, one day while Cormac was sitting in a barber’s chair, having his hair cut and trying to forget what the barber was talking about, a bright idea came to him as he caught a glimpse of himself in the looking-glass, and lo and behold! without saying a word, he jumped up and stood on his two feet, and the poor barber got so excited that he cut a piece off the top of his right ear. Cormac wasn’t the least displeased, because he always thought that his ears were too long, so then and there he told the barber to cut a piece about the same length off his other ear, so that they would both look nice and even. And when his wishes were complied with, he thanked the barber, and then he up and ses to himself: ‘Cormac McShane,’ ses he, ‘I never before thought you were such a good-looking fellow. Sure the King of Spain or the Emperor of China would feel as proud as a peacock to have a countenance like yours. Yet,’ ses he, ‘isn’t it a strange thing that one so handsome, and modest likewise, and with such a splendid appetite, and a taste for good things in general, should be compelled by stress of circumstances to live on pigs’ heads, and tough cabbage, and no change at all in your dietary but salt conger eels on Fridays. Why,’ ses he, ‘a man with your appreciation should have plenty of the choice things of life, and never know the want of anything. What, might I ask,’ ses he, ‘has the world achieved by all the books that have been written, and all the charity sermons that have been preached, when you, Cormac McShane, couldn’t go from Cork to Dublin unless you borrowed the money, and it might be as hard for you to borrow it, as ‘twould be for yourself to lend it to another.’
“That’s good sound talk,” said Micus. “Go on with the story, and don’t let any one interrupt you.”
“‘Now,’ ses Cormac, ‘If every one in the whole world from Peru to Clonakilty would only give you a halfpenny each, and no one would miss such a trifle, you would be the richest man alive, and then you needn’t give a traneen about any one. But, of course,’ ses he, ‘that would be too much originality to expect from the bewildered inhabitants of the globe, moreover,’ ses he, ‘when we consider that the majority of people are always trying to get something for nothing, themselves.”
“He had the temperament of a millionaire,” said Micus.
“Indeed, he had, and the ingenuity of the tinkers, who would charge for putting a patch on a skillet where there was no hole at all,” said Padna. “‘However,’ ses Cormac to himself, ‘there’s nothing like money, no matter how it may have been earned, and every man should be his own counsellor, because the little we know about each other only leads us into confusion and chaos. Now,’ ses he, ‘very few ever became wealthy by hard work alone, and you, Cormac McShane, must think of some scheme by which you can become rich, and all of a sudden too.’ And so he exercised his brains for about a month, and kept thinking and thinking, until finally he managed to capture an idea that he found straying among all the wild fancies that ever kept buzzing about in his head. And he was so pleased and delighted that he ses to himself: ‘Cormac,’ ses he, ‘there isn’t another man alive who could think of such a short cut to wealth, health, and happiness, and as a mark of my appreciation, I will now treat you to whatever you may want, provided, of course, that it won’t cost more than one shilling. A shilling is enough to spend on any one at a time, unless you are sure of getting two shillings, worth in return. And extravagance is nearly as bad as economy, when it isn’t used to advantage.’”
“And what was the brilliant idea that inspired such generosity?” said Micus. “Was it the way he made up his mind to dress himself as a duke, and go to America and marry some heiress who couldn’t tell a duke from a professional plausible humbug?”
“It wasn’t anything as commonplace as that,” said Padna.