When the liquor was got in, Shane, after taking a draught, laid down his pint, pulled out his steel tobacco-box, and, after twisting off a chew between his teeth, closed the box, and commenced the story of his wedding.
“When I was a Brine-Oge,” * said Shane, “I was as wild as an unbroken cowlt—no divilment was too hard for me; and so sign's on it, for there wasn't a piece of mischief done in the parish, but was laid at my door—and the dear knows I had enough of my own to answer for, let alone to be set down for that of other people; but, any way, there was many a thing done in my name, when I knew neither act nor part about it. One of them I'll mintion: Dick Cuillenan, father to Paddy, that lives at the crass-roads, beyant Gunpowdher Lodge, was over head and ears in love with Jemmy Finigan's eldest daughter, Mary, then, sure enough, as purty a girl as you'd meet in a fair—indeed, I think I'm looking at her, with her fair flaxen ringlets hanging over her shoulders, as she used to pass our house, going to mass of a Sunday. God rest her sowl, she's now in glory—that was before she was my wife. Many a happy day we passed together; and I could take it to my death, that an ill word, let alone to rise our hands to one another, never passed between us—only one day, that a word or two happened about the dinner, in the middle of Lent, being a little too late, so that the horses were kept nigh half an hour out of the plough; and I wouldn't have valued that so much, only that it was Beal Cam** Doherty that joined*** me in ploughing that year—and I was vexed not to take all I could out of him, for he was a raal Turk himself.
* A young man full of fun and frolic. The word literally
signifies Young Brian. Such phrases originate thus:—A young
man remarkable for one or more qualities of a particular
nature becomes so famous for them that his name, in the
course of time, is applied to others, as conveying the same
character.
** Crooked mouth.
***In Ireland, small farmers who cannot afford to keep more
than one horse are in the habit of “joining,” as it is
termed—that is, of putting their horses together so as to
form a yoke, when they plough each other's farms, working
alternately, sometimes, by the week, half-week, or day; that
is, I plough this day, or this week, and you the next day,
or week, until our crops are got down. In this case, each is
anxious to take as much out of the horses as he can,
especially where the farms are unequal. For instance, where
one farm is larger than another the difference must be paid
by the owner of the larger one in horse-labor, man-labor, or
money; but that he may have as little to pay as possible, he
ploughs as much for himself, by the day, as he can, and
often strives to get the other to do as little per day, on
the other side, in order to diminish what will remain due to
his partner. There is, consequently, a ludicrous
undercurrent of petty jealousy running between them, which
explains the passage in question.
“I disremember now what passed between us as to words—but I know I had a duck-egg in my hand, and when she spoke, I raised my arm, and nailed—poor Larry Tracy, our servant boy, between the two eyes with it, although the crathur was ating his dinner quietly fornent me, not saying a word.
“Well, as I tould you, Dick was ever after her, although her father and mother would rather see her under boord* than joined to any of that connection; and as for herself, she couldn't bear the sight of him, he was sich an upsetting, conceited puppy, that thought himself too good for every girl. At any rate, he tried often and often, in fair and market, to get striking up with her; and both coming from and going to mass, 'twas the same way, for ever after and about her, till the state he was in spread over the parish like wild fire. Still, all he could do was of no use; except to bid him the time of day, she never entered into discoorse with him at all at all. But there was no putting the likes of him off; so he got a quart of spirits in his pocket, one night, and without saying a word to mortal, off he sets full speed to her father's, in order to brake the thing to the family.
* In that part of the country where the scene of Shane
Fadh's Wedding is laid, the bodies of those who die are not
stretched out on a bed, and the face exposed; on the
contrary, they are placed generally on the ground, or in a
bed, but with a board resting upon two stools or chairs over
them. This is covered with a clean sheet, generally borrowed
from some wealthier neighbor; so that the person of the
deceased is altogether concealed. Over the sheet upon the
board, are placed plates of cut tobacco, pipes, snuff, &c.
This is what is meant by being “undher boord.”
“Mary might be about seventeen at this time, and her mother looked almost as young and fresh as if she hadn't been married at all. When Dick came in, you may be sure they were all surprised at the sight of him; but they were civil people—and the mother wiped a chair, and put it over near the fire for him to sit down upon, waiting to hear what he'd say, or what he wanted, although, they could give a purty good guess as to that!—but they only wished to put him off with as little offince as possible. When Dick sot a while, talking about what the price of hay and oats would be in the following summer, and other subjects that he thought would show his knowledge of farming and cattle, he pulls out his bottle, encouraged to by their civil way of talking—and telling the ould couple, that as he came over on his kailyee,* he had brought a drop in his pocket to sweeten the discoorse, axing Susy Finigan, the mother, for a glass to send it round with—at the same time drawing over his chair close to Mary who was knitting her stocken up beside her little brother Michael, and chatting to the gorsoon, for fraid that Cuillenan might think she paid him any attention.
* Kailyee—a friendly evening visit.
When Dick got alongside of her, he began of coorse, to pull out her needles and spoil her knitting, as is customary before the young people come to close spaking. Mary, howsomever, had no welcome for him; so, says she, 'You ought to know, Dick Cuillenan, who you spake to, before you make the freedom you do'
“'But you don't know, says Dick, 'that I'm a great hand at spoiling the girls' knitting,—it's a fashion I've got,' says he.