PATSY MAC CANN
WILL you leave that donkey alone," said Patsy Mac
Cann to his daughter.
"I never heard the like of it, "
he continued testily. " I tell you the way you do be
going on with the ass is enough to make a Christian
man swear, so it is. "
"You let me be," she replied. " If I was doing hurt or
harm to you I wouldn't mind, and if I am fond of the
ass itself what does it matter to anybody? "
"It's this way; that I don't like to see a woman kissing
an ass on the snout; it's not natural nor proper."
" A lot you know about natural and proper. Let you
leave me alone now; and, besides that, doesn't the
ass like it ? "
" That's not a reason; sure it doesn't matter in the
world what an ass likes or dislikes, and, anyhow, an ass doesn't like anything except
carrots and turnips."
"This one does," said she stoutly.
" And a body might be kissing an ass until the black
day of doom and he wouldn't mind it. "
"This one minds."
"Kissing an old ass."
"One has to be kissing something."
" Let you kiss me then and get done with it," said he.
She regarded him in amazement.
" What would I kiss you for ? Sure you're my father,
and aren't you as old as the hills?"
"Well, well, you're full of fun, and that's what I say.
Take the winkers off that donkey's face, and let him
get a bit to eat; there's grass enough, God knows, and
it's good grass."
Mary busied herself with the winkers and the bit while
her father continued:
"What I wish is this, that Christian people were able to
eat grass like the beasts, and then there wouldn't be any more trouble in
the world. Are you listening to me, Mary, or are you
listening to the donkey ? "
" It's you I'm listening to."
" I say this, that if every person had enough to eat
there'd be no more trouble in the world and we could
fight our fill. What have you got in the basket ? "
" I've the loaf that I bought in the shop at Knockbeg,
and the half loaf that you took out of the woman's
window - it's fresher than the other one."
"I was guided," said her father. "We'll eat that one first
the way no person can claim it. What else have you
"I've the white turnip that I found in a field."
"There's great nourishment in turnips; the cattle do get
fat on them in winter."
"And I've the two handfuls of potatoes that you
gathered at the bend of the road."
"Roast themselves in the embers, for that's the only road to cook a potato. What way are
we going to eat to-night ? "
" We'll eat the turnip first, and then we'll eat the bread,
and after that we'll eat the potatoes."
"And fine they'll taste. I'll cut the turnip for you with the
The day had drawn to its close. The stars had not yet
come, nor the moon. Far to the west a red cloud
poised on the horizon like a great whale and, moment
by moment, it paled and faded until it was no more
than a pink flush. On high, clouds of pearl and snow
piled and fell and sailed away on easy voyages. It was
the twilight - a twilight of such quietude that one could
hear the soft voice of the world as it whispered
through leaf and twig. There was no breeze to swing
the branches of the trees or to creep among the rank
grasses and set them dancing, and yet everywhere
there was unceasing movement and a
sound that never ceased. About them, for mile upon
mile, there was no habitation of man; there was no
movement anywhere except when a bird dipped and
soared in a hasty flight homewards, or when a beetle
went slugging by like a tired bullet.
Mary had unharnessed the ass and bade him, with an
affectionate kiss, to eat his full. The donkey stood for
a moment with his ears and tail hanging down, then he
lifted both his ears and his tail, slung up his ragged
head, bared his solid teeth, and brayed furiously for
two minutes. That accomplished he trotted briskly a
few paces, bent to the grass, and began to eat so
eagerly that one would think eating was more of a
novelty to him than it could be to an ass of his years.
"The sound of that beast's voice does get on my
nerves," said Patsy.
"He has a powerful voice, sure enough, God bless him
! Sit down there by the hedge and light the fire while
I'm getting the things ready; the night will be on us
in a few minutes and it will be a cold night."
While she moved busily from the cart to the hedge her
father employed himself lighting a fire of turf in a
wrinkled bucket. When this was under way he pulled
out a pipe, black as a coal, and off which half the
shank was broken, and this he put into his mouth. At
the moment he seemed to be sunken in thought, his
eyes to the grass and his feet planted, and it was in a
musing voice that he spoke:
" Do you know what I'd do, Mary, if I had a bottle of
porter beside me in this field ? "
"I do well," she replied; "you'd drink it. "
" I would so, but before I'd drink it I'd put the end of this
pipe into it, for it's newly cracked, and it sticks to my
lips in a way that would anger a man wanting a smoke,
and if I could stick it into the porter it would be cured.
I don't suppose, now, that you have a sup of porter in
the cart! "
"I have not."
"Because if you had a small sup I'd be able to get a
smoke this night, as well as a drink."
"You're full of fun," said she sourly.
" I saw a bottle in your hand a while back," he
continued musingly, " and it looked like a weighty
"It's full to the neck with spring water."
"Ah!" said her father, and he regarded that distant
horizon whereon the pink cloud was now scarcely
visible as a pinkness and was no longer the shape of a
After a moment he continued in a careless voice :
" You might hand me the bottle of spring water, alanna,
till I wet my lips with it. It's a great thing for the thirst,
I'm told, and it's healthy beside that."
" I'm keeping that sup of water to make the tea when
we'd be wanting it."
"Well, I'll only take a drop out of it, and I won't lose
"You can get it yourself, then," said Mary, " for I've
plenty to do and you haven't."
Her father, rolling his tough chin with his fingers, went
to the cart. He found the bottle, lifted the cork, smelt
"It it spring water indeed," said he, and he thumped
the cork back again with some irritation and replaced
the bottle in the cart.
"I thought you wanted a drink," said his daughter
"So I do," he replied, "but I can't stand the little
creatures that do be wriggling about in spring water. I
wouldn't like to be swallowing them unknown. Ah! them things don't be in barrels that you buy in a
shop, and that's a fact. "
She was preparing the potatoes when a remark from
her father caused her to pause.
"What is it?" said she.
" It's a bird. I saw it for a second against a white
piece of a cloud, and 1 give you my word that it's as
big as a haystack. There it is again," he continued excitedly,
"there's three of them."
For a few minutes they followed the flight of these
amazing birds, but the twilight had almost entirely
departed and darkness was brooding over the land.
They did not see them any more.
AND yet it was but a short distance from where they
camped that the angels first put foot to earth.
It is useless to question what turmoil of wind or vagary
of wing brought them to this desert hill instead of to a
place more worthy of their grandeur, for, indeed, they
were gorgeously apparelled in silken robes of scarlet
and gold and purple; upon their heads were crowns
high in form and of curious, intricate workmanship, and
their wings, stretching ten feet on either side, were of
many and shining colours.
Enough that here they did land, and in this silence and
darkness they stood for a few moments looking about
Then one spoke:
"Art," said he, "we were too busy
coming down to look about us carefully; spring up
again a little way, and see if there is any house in sight."
At the word one of the three stepped forward a pace,
and leaped twenty feet into the air; his great wings
swung out as he leaped, they beat twice, and he went
circling the hill in steady, noiseless flight.
He returned in a minute:
"There are no houses here, but a little way below I saw
a fire and two people sitting beside it."
"We will talk to them," said the other. "Show the way,
"Up then," said Art.
" No," said the Angel who had not yet spoken. "I am
tired of flying. We will walk to this place you speak of."
"Very well," replied Art, "let us walk."
And they went forward.
Around the little bucket of fire where
Mac Cann and his daughter were sitting there was an intense darkness. At the distance of six
feet they could still see, but delicately, indistinctly, and
beyond that the night hung like a velvet curtain. They
did not mind the night, they did not fear it, they did
not look at it : it was around them, full of strangeness,
full of mystery and terror, but they looked only at the
glowing brazier, and in the red cheer of that they were
They had eaten the bread and the turnip, and were
waiting for the potatoes to be cooked, and as they
waited an odd phrase, an exclamation, a sigh would
pass from one to the other; and then, suddenly, the
dark curtain of night moved noiselessly, and the three
angels stepped nobly in the firelight.
For an instant neither Mac Cann nor his daughter
made a movement; they did not make a sound. Here
was terror, and astonishment the sister of terror: they
gaped: their whole being was in their eyes as they
stared. From Mac Cann's throat came a noise; it had no grammatical
significance, but it was weighted with all the sense that
is in a dog's growl or a wolf's cry. Then the youngest
of the strangers came forward :
" May we sit by your fire for a little time?" said he.
"The night is cold, and in this darkness one does not
know where to go."
At the sound of words Patsy seized hold of his sliding
"To be sure," he stammered. "Why wouldn't your
honour sit down? There isn't a seat, but you're
welcome to the grass and the light of the fire."
"Mary," he continued, looking hastily around-
But Mary was not there. The same instant those tall
forms strode from the darkness in front Mary had
slipped, swift and noiseless as the shadow of a cat,
into the darkness behind her.
"Mary," said her father again, "these are decent
people, I'm thinking. Let you come from wherever you are, for I'm sure they
wouldn't hurt yourself or myself."
As swiftly as she had disappeared she reappeared.
" I was looking if the ass was all right," said she
She sat again by the brazier, and began to turn the
potatoes with a stick. She did not appear to be
taking any heed of the strangers, but it is likely that
she was able to see them without looking, because,
as is well known, women and birds are able to see
without turning their heads, and that is indeed a
necessary provision, for they are both surrounded by
THE remarkable thing about astonishment is that it
can only last for an instant. No person can be
surprised for more than that time. You will come to
terms with a ghost within two minutes of its
appearance, and it had scarcely taken that time for
Mac Cann and his daughter to become one with the
If the surprisor and the surprisee are mutually
astonished, then, indeed, there is a tangle out of
which anything may emerge, for two explanations are
necessary at the one moment, and two explanations
can no more hold the same position in time than two
bodies can occupy the same lodgment in space.
It needed alone that the angels should proclaim their
quality for the situation to arrange itself naturally.
Man is a scientific creature; he labels
his ignorance and shelves it: mystery affrights him, it
bores him, but when he has given a name to any
appearance then mystery flies away, and reality alone
remains for his cogitation. Later, perhaps, reality will
enrage and mystify him more profoundly than any
unexpectedness can do.
The Mac Canns, so far as they professed a religion,
were Catholics. Deeper than that they were Irish folk.
From their cradles, if ever they had cradles other than
a mother's breast and shoulder, they had supped on
wonder. They believed as easily as an animal does,
for most creatures are forced to credit everything long
before they are able to prove anything. We have
arranged to label these faculties of imagination and
prophecy among the lesser creatures Instinct, and with
the label we have thrown overboard more of mystery
than we could afford to live with. Later these may
confront us again in our proper souls, and the wonder
and terror so long overdue will compel our tardy
At the end of amazement, as of all else, we go to
sleep, and, within an hour of their meeting, the angels
and the Mac Canns were stretched in one common
The angels were asleep, their attitudes proclaimed it.
Patsy was asleep, his nose, with the unpleasant
emphasis of a cracked trumpet, pealed wheezy
confirmation of his slumber. His daughter was asleep,
for there by the brazier she lay, motionless as the
Perhaps she was not asleep. Perhaps she was lying
with her face to the skies, staring through the darkness
at the pale, scarce stars, dreaming dreams and seeing
visions, while, all around, down the invisible road and
across the vanished fields and the hills, night trailed her
dusky robes and crushed abroad her poppy.
Whether she had slept or not she was the first to arise
in the morning.
A pale twilight was creeping over the earth, and
through it one could see chilly trees and shivering
grass; the heavy clouds huddled together as though
they were seeking warmth on those grisly heights; the
birds had not yet left their nests ; it was an hour of
utter silence and uncomeliness; an hour for blind and
despairing creatures to move forward spitefully,
cursing themselves and the powers; an hour when
imagination has no function, and hope would fly again
to the darkness rather than remain in that livid
wilderness, for this was not yet the thin child of the
dawn, crowned with young buds and active as a
wintry leaf ; it was the abortion of the dawn, formless,
heavy, and detestable.
Moving cautiously in that shade, Mary herself seemed
no more than a shadow; she diminished thin and
formless as a wraith, while she trod carefully to and fro
from the cart to the hedge.
She sat down, unloosed her hair and commenced to
In this colourless light her hair had no colour, but was
of astonishing length and thickness; it flowed about her
like a cloak, and as she sat it rolled and crept on the
grass. She did not often tend her hair thus. Sometimes
she plaited it for the sake of convenience, so that
windy days would not whip it into her eyes or lash her
cheeks; sometimes, through sheer laziness, she did not
even plait it, she rolled it into a great ball and drew a
wide, masculine cap over its brightness; and now,
before the day had broken, sitting in a ghastly
lightness, which was neither light nor darkness, she
was attending to her hair.
And this hair perplexed her, for she did not know
what to do with it; she did not know whether it was to
be seen or not seen ; whether to braid it in two great
ropes, or roll it carelessly or carefully above her head,
or let it hang loosely about her shoulders held only at
the nape with a piece of ribbon or stuff. An hesitation
such as this was new to her; she had never had
occasion for such forethought; it was strange and
inquieting; more disturbing, indeed, than the visit at
black of night of those tall strangers whose eyes and
voices were so quiet, and whose appoiniments
flashed in the firelight while they spoke to her father
of the things in which travellers are interested.
She looked at them where they lay, but they were
scarcely more than visible - a tangle of flowing cloths
and great limbs fading away in the rank grasses and
the obscurity, and to her mind the real wonder was
not that they had come, but that they were still there,
and that they were sleeping deeply and peacefully as
she had slept so often, with her head pillowed on her
arm and her limbs folded calmly between the earth
and the sky.
HER hair was not braided; it was tied at the neck with
a piece of whitish cloth torn from some part of her
clothing, and upon her shoulders it billowed and
rolled in magnificent living abundance.
Very gently she moved to where her father lay on his
back with his mouth open and his black chin jutting
at the sky. He was breathing through his mouth, so
he was not snoring any longer. She lifted the three or
four sacks which covered him, and rocked his
shoulders cautiously until he awakened.
Her father awakened exactly as she did, exactly as
every open-air animal does; his eyes flew wide,
instantly and entirely wakeful, and he looked at her
with full comprehension of their adventure. He raised
softly on an elbow and glanced to where the
strangers were; then nodded to his daughter and rose
noiselessly to his feet.
She beckoned him and they stepped a few paces
away so that they might talk in security.
Mary was about to speak but her father prevented
"Listen," he whispered, "the best thing we tan do is to
load the things into the cart, without making any noise,
mind you! then we'll yoke the little ass as easy as
anything, and then I'll get into the cart and I'll drive off
as hard as ever I can pelt, and you can run beside the
ass with a stick in your hand and you welting the devil
out of him to make him go quick. I'm no good myself
at the running, and that's why I'll get into the cart, but
you can run like a hare, and that's why you'll wallop
" Mind now," he continued fiercely, "we don't know
who them fellows are at all, and what would the priest
say if he heard we were stravaiging the country with
three big, buck angels, and they full of tricks maybe;
so go you now and be lifting in the things and I'll give
you good help myself."
"I'll do nothing of the kind," whispered Mary angrily,
"and it wasn't for that I woke you up."
"Won't you, indeed?" said her father fiercely.
" What would they be thinking of us at all if they were
to rouse and see us sneaking off in that way? I'm
telling you now that I won't do it, and that you won't
do it either, and if you make a move to the cart I'll give
a shout that will waken the men."
"The devil's in you, you strap!" replied her father,
grinding his teeth at her. "What call have we to be
mixing ourselves up with holy angels that'll be killing us
maybe in an hour or half an hour; and maybe they're
not angels at all but men that do be travelling the land
in a circus and they full of fun and devilment ? "
" It's angels they are," replied his daughter urgently, "
and if they're not angels itself they are rich men, for
there's big rings of gold on their fingers, and every ring
has a diamond in it, and they've golden chains across their shoulders, I'm telling you, and the stuff in
their clothes is fit for the children of a king. It's rich
and very rich they are."
Mac Cann rasped his chin with his thumb.
"Do you think they are rich folk? "
"I do, indeed."
" Then," said her father in an abstracted tone, " we
won't say anything more about it."
After a moment he spoke again:
"What were you thinking about yourself ? "
" I was thinking," she replied, "that when they waken
up in a little while there won't be anything at all for
them to eat and they strangers. "
"Hum!" said her father.
" There's two cold potatoes in the basket, she
continued, " and a small piece of bread, and there isn't
anything more than that; so let you be looking around
for something to eat the way we won't be put to
shame before the men."
" It's easy talking " said he "where am
I to look ? Do you want me to pick red herrings out of
the grass and sides of bacon off the little bushes ? "
"We passed a house. last night a mile down the road,"
said Mary; "go you there and get whatever you're able
to get, and if you can't get anything buy it off the
people in the house. I've three shillings in my pocket
that I was saving for a particular thing, but I'll give
them to you because I wouldn't like to be shamed
before the strange men. "
Her father took the money:
"I wish I knew that you had it yesterday," he growled,
" I wouldn't have gone to sleep with a throat on me
like a mid-summer ditch and it full of dust and
Mary pushed him down the road.
"Be back as quick as you are able, and buy every
kind of thing that you can get for the three shillings."
She watched him stamping heavily down the road, and
then she returned again to their encampment.
THE visitors had not awakened.
Now the air was growing clearer; the first livid pallor of
the dawn had changed to a wholesome twilight, and
light was rolling like clear smoke over the land. The air
looked cold, and it began to look sharp instead of
muddy; now the trees and bushes stood apart; they
seemed lonely and unguarded in that chill dawning; they
seemed like living things which were cold and a little
frightened in an immensity to which they were foreign
and from which they had much to dread.
Of all unnatural things, if that word can be used in any
context, there is none more unnatural than silence, there
is none so terrifying; for silence means more than itself,
it means also immobility; it is the symbol and signature
of death, and from it
no one knows what may come at an instant; for silence
is not quietness, it is the enemy of quietness; against it
your watch must climb the tower and stare in vain;
against it your picket must be set, and he will thrust a
lance to the sound of his own pulses; he will challenge
the beating of his own heart, and hear his own harness
threatening him at a distance.
To walk in a forest when there is no wind
to stir the branches and set the leaves tapping upon the
boughs, this is terrifying; a lonely sea stretching beyond
sight and upon which there is no ripple holds the same
despair, and a grassy plain from whence there is no
movement visible has too its desolating horror.
But these things did not haunt the girl.
She did not heed the silence for she did not
listen to it; she did not heed the immensity
for she did not see it. In space and silence
she had been cradled; they were her foster-
parents, and if ever she looked or listened it
was to see and hear something quite other
than these. Now she did listen and look. She listened
to the breathing of the sleepers, and soon, for she was
a female, she looked to see what they were like.
She leaned softly over one. He was a noble old man
with a sweeping, white beard and a great brow; the
expression of his quiet features was that of a wise
infant; her heart went out to him and she smiled at him
in his sleep.
She trod to the next and bent again. He was younger,
but not young; he looked about forty years of age; his
features were regular and very determined; his face
looked strong, comely as though it had been chiselled
from a gracious stone; there was a short coal-black
beard on his chin.
She turned to the third sleeper, and halted blushing.
She remembered his face, caught on the previous
night in one lightning peep while she slid away from
their approach. It was from him she had fled in the
night, and for him that her hair was now draping her
shoulders in unaccustomed beauty.
She did not dare go near him; she was afraid that if
she bent over him he would flash open his eyes and
look at her, and, as yet, she could not support such a
look. She knew that if she were stretched in sleep and
he approached to lean across her, she would awaken
at the touch of his eyes, and she would be ashamed
She did not look at him.
She went again to her place and set to building a fire
in the brazier, and, while she sat, a voice began to sing
in the dawn; not loud, but very gently, very sweetly. It
was so early for a bird to sing, and she did not
recognise that tune although the sound of it was
thrilling through all her body. Softly, more softly, O
Prophetic Voice! I do not know your speech; I do not
know what happiness you are promising; is it of the
leaves you tell and of a nest that rocks high on a leafy
spray; there your mate swings cooing to herself. She
swings and coos; she is folded in peace, and the small,
white clouds go sailing by and they do not fall.
So through unimagined ways went that song, lifting
its theme in terms that she did not comprehend; but it
was not a bird that sang to her, it was her own heart
making its obscure music and lilting its secret, wild
lyrics in the dawn.
IT was the donkey awakened them.
For some time he had been rolling along the ground
in ecstasy; now his agitated legs were pointing at the
sky while he scratched his back against little stones
and clumps of tough clay; now he was lying flat
rubbing his jowl against these same clumps. He
stood up suddenly, shook himself, swung up his tail
and his chin, bared his teeth, fixed his eye on
eternity, and roared "hee-haw" in a voice of such
sudden mightiness, that not alone did the sleepers
bound from their slumbers, but the very sun itself
leaped across the horizon and stared at him with its
Mary ran and beat the ass on the nose with her fist,
but whatever Mary did to the ass was understood by
him as a caress, and he willingly suffered it - " hee-
said he again triumphantly, and he planted his big head
on her shoulder and stared sadly into space.
He was thinking, and thought always makes an ass
look sad, but what he was thinking about not even
Mary knew; his eye was hazy with cogitation, and he
looked as wise and as kindly as the eldest of the three
angels; indeed, although he had never been groomed,
he looked handsome also, for he had the shape of a
good donkey; his muzzle and his paws were white,
the rest of his body was black and his eyes were
brown. That was the appearance of the donkey.
The angels arose and, much as the ass did they shook
themselves; there was no further toilet than that
practicable; they ran their hands through their
abundant hair, and the two who had beards combed
these also with their fingers - then they looked around
Now the birds were sweeping and climbing on the
shining air; they were calling and shrieking and singing;
fifty of them, and all of the same kind, came dashing madly together,
and they all sang the one song, so loud, so exultant,
the heaven and earth seemed to ring and ring again of
They passed, and three antic wings came tumbling
and flirting together; these had no song or their
happiness went far beyond all orderly sound; they
squealed as they chased each other; they squealed as
they dropped twenty sheer feet towards the ground,
and squealed again as they recovered on a swoop,
and as they climbed an hundred feet in three swift zig-
zags, they still squealed without intermission, and then
the three went flickering away to the west, each trying
to bite the tail off the others.
There came a crow whose happiness was so intense
that he was not able to move; he stood on the hedge
for a long time, and all that time he was trying hard to
compose himself to a gravity befitting the father of
many families, but every few seconds he lost all
control and bawled with fervour.
He examined himself all over; he peeped under his
feathers to see was his complexion good; he parted
the plumage of his tail modishly; he polished his feet
with his bill, and then polished his bill on his left thigh,
and then he polished his left thigh with the back of his
neck. " I'm a hell of a crow," said he, "and everybody
admits it." He flew with admirable carelessness over
the ass, and cleverly stole two claws and one beak full
of hair; but in mid-air he laughed incautiously so that
the hair fell out of his beak, and in grabbing at that
portion he dropped the bits in his claws, and he got so
excited in trying to rescue these before they reached
the ground that his voice covered all the other sounds
The sun was shining; the trees waved their branches in
delight; there was no longer murk or coldness in the
air; it sparkled from every point like a vast jewel, and
the brisk clouds arraying themselves in fleeces of white
and blue raced happily aloft.
That was what the angels saw when they
looked abroad; a few paces distant the cart was lying
with its shafts up in the air, and a tumble of
miscellaneous rubbish was hanging half in and half out
of it; a little farther the ass, in a concentrated manner,
was chopping grass as quickly as ever he could, and,
naturally enough, eating it; for after thinking deeply we
eat, and it is true wisdom to do so.
The eldest of the angels observed the donkey. He
stroked his beard.
" One eats that kind of vegetable," said he.
The others observed also.
"And," that angel continued, "the time has come for us
The second eldest angel rolled his coalblack chin in his
hand and his gesture and attitude were precisely those
of Patsy Mac Cann.
"I am certainly hungry," said he.
He picked a fistful of grass and thrust some of it into
his mouth, but after a moment of difficulty he removed
"it is soft enough to eat," said he musingly, but I do not
care greatly for its taste.
The youngest angel made a suggestion.
"Let us talk to the girl," said he.
And they all moved over to Mary.
"Daughter," said the eldest of the three,
"we are hungry," and he beamed on her so contentedly
that all fear and diffidence fled from her on the instant.
" My father has gone down the road looking for food;
he will be coming back in a minute or two, and he'll be
bringing every kind of thing that's nourishing."
"While we are waiting for him," said the angel, "let us
sit down and you can tell us all about food."
" It is a thing we ought to learn at once," said the
So they sat in a half-circle opposite the girl, and
requested her to give them a lecture on food.
She thought it natural they should require
information about earthly matters, but she found, as all
unpractised speakers do, that she did not know at
what point to begin on her subject. Still, something had
to be said, for two of them were stroking their beards,
and one was hugging his knees, and all three were
gazing at her.
" Everything," said she, "that a body can eat is good to
eat, but some things do taste nicer than others;
potatoes and cabbage are very good to eat, and so is
bacon; my father likes bacon when it's very salt, but I
don't like it that way myself ; bread is a good thing to
eat, and so is cheese."
" What do you call this vegetable that the animal is
eating ? " said the angel pointing to the ass.
"That isn't a vegetable at all, sir, that's only grass;
every kind of animal eats it, but Christians don't."
" Is it not good to eat?"
"Sure, I don't know. Dogs eat it when they are sick,
so it ought to be wholesome, but I never heard tell of
any person that ate
grass except they were dying of the hunger and
couldn't help themselves, poor creatures! And there
was a Jew once who was a king, and they do say
that he used to go out, with the cattle and eat the
grass like themselves, and nobody says that he didn't
"But here's my father coming across the fields (which
is a queer way for him to come, because he went
away by the road), and I'm thinking that he has a
basket under his arm and there will be food in it."
IT was true enough. Mac Cann was coming to them
from a point at right angles to where he was
Now and again he turned to look over his shoulder,
and as he was taking advantage of dips in the
ground, bushes, and suchlike to shield his advance
his daughter divined that something had occurred in
addition to the purchase of food. She had often
before observed her father moving with these
precautionary tactics, and had many times herself
shared and even directed a retreat which was full of
When her father drew nigh he nodded meaningly at
her, set down a basket and a bundle, and stood for a
moment looking at these while he thumbed his chin.
" Faith!" said he, " the world is full of trouble, and
that's a fact.
He turned to the strangers.
" And I'm telling you this, that if the world wasn't full of
trouble there'd be no life at all for the poor. It's the
only chance we get is when people are full of woe,
God help them! and isn't that a queer thing?
"Mary," he turned, and his voice was full of careless
pride, "try if there isn't some small thing or other in the
basket, and let your honours sit down on the grass
while the young girl is getting your breakfast."
So the angels and Patsy sat down peacefully on the
grass, and Mary opened the basket.
There were two loaves of bread in it, a fine square of
butter, a piece of cheese as big as a man's hand and
four times as thick; there was a leg of mutton in the
basket, and only a little bit had been taken off it, a big
paper bag full of tea, a package of soft sugar, a bottle
full of milk, a bottle half full of whisky, two tobacco
pipes having silver bands on their middles, and a big
bar of plug tobacco. Those were the things in the basket.
Mary's eyes and her mouth opened when she saw
them, and she blessed herself, but she made no sound;
and when she turned her face towards the company
there was no expression on it except that of
She cut slices from each of these things and piled them
on a large piece of paper in the centre of the men ;
then she sat herself down and they all prepared to eat.
The second angel turned courteously to Mac Cann.
"Will you kindly begin to eat," said he,
"and by watching you we will know what to do."
"There can be nothing more uncomely, said the first
angel, "than to see people acting in disaccord with
custom; we will try to do exactly as you do, and
although you may be troubled by our awkwardness
you will not be shocked by a lapse from sacred
"Well!" said Patsy thoughtfully.
He stretched a hand towards the food.
" I'll stand in nobody's light, and teaching people is
God's own work; this is the way I do it, your worships,
and any one that likes can follow me up."
He seized two pieces of bread, placed a slice of cheese
between them, and bit deeply into that trinity.
The strangers followed his actions with fidelity, and in a
moment their mouths were as full as his was and as
Patsy paused between bites:
" When I've this one finished," said he,
"I'll take two more bits of bread and I'll put a lump of
meat between them, and I'll eat that."
" Ah!" said that one of the angels whose mouth chanced
to be free.
Patsy's eye roved over the rest of the food.
"And after that," he continued, "we will take a bit of
whatever is handy."
In a short time there was nothing left on
the newspaper but soft sugar, butter, tea, and tobacco.
Patsy was abashed.
"I did think that there was more than that," said he.
"I've had enough myself," he continued, "but maybe
your honours could eat more."
Two of the angels assured him that they were quite
satisfied, but the youngest angel said nothing.
" I'm doubting that you had enough," said Patsy
dubiously to him.
" I could eat more if I had it," returned that one with a
Mary went to the cart and returned bearing two cold
potatoes and a piece of bread, and she placed these
before the young angel. He thanked her and ate these,
and then he ate the package of soft sugar, and then he
ate a little piece of the butter, but he didn't care for it.
He pointed to the plug of tobacco:
" Does this be eaten ? " he enquired.
"It does not," said Patsy. "If you ate a
bit of that you'd get a pain inside of your belly that would last you for a month. There's some
people do smoke it, and there's others do chew it;
but I smoke it and chew it myself, and that's the best
two pipes there on the paper, and I've a pipe in my
own pocket, so whichever of you would like a
smoke can do exactly as I do."
With a big jack-knife he shredded pieces from the
plug, and rolled these between his palms, then he
carefully stuffed his pipe, pulled at it to see was it
drawing well, lit the tobacco, and heaved a sigh of
contentment. He smiled around the circle.
" That's real good," said he.
The strangers examined the pipes and tobacco with
curiosity, but they did not venture to smoke, and they
watched Patsy's beatific face with kindly attention.
Now at this moment Mary was devoured with
curiosity. She wanted to know how her father had
become possessed of the basketful of provisions.
She knew that three shillings would not have
purchased a tithe of these goods, and, as she had
now no fear of the strangers, she questioned her
" Father, " said she, " where did you get all the good food ? "
The angels had eaten of his bounty, so Mac Cann
considered that he had nothing to fear from their side.
He regarded them while he pulled thoughtfully at his
"Do you know," said he, "that the hardest thing in the
world is to get the food, and a body is never done
looking for it. We are after eating all that we got this
morning, so now we'll have to search for what we'll
eat to-night, and in the morning we'll have to look
again for more of it, and the day after that, and every
day until we are dead we'll have to go on searching
for the food."
" I would have thought," said the eldest
angel, "that of all problems food would be the
simplest in an organised society."
This halted Mac Cann for a moment.
"Maybe you're right, sir," said he kindly, and he
dismissed the interruption.
"I heard a man once, he was a stranger to these parts,
and he had a great deal of the talk, he said that the
folk at the top do grab all the food in the world, and
that then they make every person work for them, and
that when you've done a certain amount of work they
give you just enough money to buy just enough food
to let you keep on working for them. That's what the
man said: a big, angry man he was, with whiskers on
him like the whirlwind, and he swore he wouldn't
work for any one. I'm thinking myself that he didn't
work either. We were great friends, that man and me,
for I don't do any
work if I can help it ; it's that I haven't got the knack
for work, and, God help me! I've a big appetite.
Besides that, the work I'd be able to do in a day
mightn't give me enough to eat, and wouldn't I be
"Father," said Mary, "where did you get all the good
food this morning ? "
"I'll tell you that. I went down to the bend of the road
where the house is, and I had the three shillings in my
hand. When I came to the house the door was
standing wide open. I hit it a thump of me fist, but
nobody answered me. 'God be with all here,' said I,
and in I marched. There was a woman lying on the
floor in one room, and her head had been cracked
with a stick; and in the next room there was a man
lying on the floor, and his head had been cracked with
a stick. It was in that room I saw the food packed
nice and tight in the basket that you see before you. I
looked around another little bit, and then I came
away, for, as they say, a wise man never found a dead
man, and I'm wise enough no matter what I look like."
"Were the people all dead?" said Mary, horrified.
" They were not - they only got a couple of clouts. I'm
thinking they are all right by this, and they looking for
the basket, but, please God, they won't find it. But
what I'd like to know is this, who was it hit the people
with a stick, and then walked away without the food
and the drink and the tobacco, for that's a queer
He turned to his daughter.
" Mary, a cree, let you burn up that basket in the
brazier, for I don't like the look of it at all, and it
So Mary burned the basket with great care while her
father piled their goods on the cart and yoked up the
Meanwhile the angels were talking together, and after
a short time they approached Mac Cann.
"If it is not inconvenient," said their spokesman, "we
would like to remain with
you for a time. We think that in your company we may
learn more than we might otherwise do, for you seem
to be a man of ability, and at present we are rather lost
in this strange world."
"Sure," said Patsy heartily, "I haven't
the least objection in the world, only, if you
don't want to be getting into trouble, and if
you'll take my advice, I'd say that ye ought
to take off them kinds of clothes you're
wearing and get into duds something like
my own, and let you put your wings aside
and your fine high crowns, the way folk
won't be staring at you every foot of the
road, for I'm telling you that it's a bad thing
to have people looking after you when you
go through a little village or a town, because
you can never know who'll remember you
afterwards, and you maybe not wanting
to be remembered at all."
" If our attire, " said the angel, is such as would make
"It is," said Patsy. "People would think you belonged
to a circus, and the
crowds of the world would be after you in every
"Then," replied the angel, "we will do as you say."
. "I have clothes enough in this bundle," said Patsy,
with a vague air. "I found them up there in the house,
and I was thinking of yourselves when I took them.
Let you put them on, and we will tie up your own
things in a sack and bury them here so that when you
want them again you'll be able to get them, and then
we can travel wherever we please and no person will
say a word to us."
So the strangers retired a little way with the bundle,
and there they shed their finery.
When they appeared again they were clad in stout,
ordinary clothing. They did not look a bit different
from Patsy Mac Cann except that they were all taller
men than he, but between his dilapidation and theirs
there was very little to choose.
Mac Cann dug a hole beside a tree and carefully
buried their property, then with a
thoughtful air he bade Mary move ahead with the ass,
while he and the angels stepped forward at the
They walked then through the morning sunlight, and
for a time they had little to say to each other.
IN truth Patsy Mac Cann was a very able person.
For forty-two years he had existed on the edges of a
society which did not recognise him in any way, and,
as he might himself have put it, he had not done so
very badly at all.
He lived as a bird lives, or a fish, or a wolf. Laws
were for other people, but they were not for him ; he
crawled under or vaulted across these ethical barriers,
and they troubled him no more than as he had to bend
or climb a little to avoid them - he discerned laws as
something to be avoided, and it was thus he saw most
Religion and morality, although he paid these an
extraordinary reverence, were not for him either; he
beheld them from afar, and, however they might seem
foolish, he left them behind as readily as he did his
debts, if so weighty a description may be given to his
volatile engagements. He did not discharge these
engagements; he elongated himself from them;
between himself and a query he interposed distance,
and at once that became foreign to him, for half a mile
about himself was his frontier, and beyond that,
wherever he was, the enemy lay.
He stood outside of every social relation, and within
an organised humanity he might almost have been
reckoned as a different species. He was very mobile,
but all his freedom lay in one direction, and outside of
that pasturage he could never go. For the average man
there are two dimensions of space wherein he moves
with a certain limited freedom; it is for him a horizontal
and a perpendicular world; he goes up the social scale
and down it, and in both these atmospheres there is a
level wherein he can exercise himself to and fro, his
journeyings being strictly limited by his business
and his family. Between the place where he works and the
place where he lives lies all the freedom he can hope
for; within that range he must seek such adventures as
he craves, and the sole expansion to which he can
attain is upwards towards another social life if he be
ambitious, or downward to the underworlds if he is
bored. For Mac Cann there was no upward and no
downward movements, he had plumbed to the very
rocks of life, but his horizontal movements were
bounded only by the oceans around his country, and
in this gigantic underworld he moved with almost
absolute freedom, and a knowledge which might
properly be termed scientific.
In despite of his apparent outlawry he was singularly
secure; ambition waved no littlest lamp at him; the one
ill which could overtake him was death, which catches
on every man; no enmity could pursue him to any wall,
for he was sunken a whole sphere beneath malice as
beneath benevolence. Physical ill-treatment might
come upon him, but in that case it was his manhood and his
muscle against another manhood and another muscle -
the simplest best would win, but there was no glory
for the conqueror nor any loot to be carried from the
Casual warfares, such as these, had been frequent
enough in his career, for he had fought stubbornly with
every kind of man, and had afterwards medicined his
wounds with the only unguents cheap enough for his
usage - the healing balsams of time and patience. He
had but one occupation, and it was an engrossing one -
he hunted for food, and for it he hunted with the skill
and pertinacity of a wolf or a vulture.
With what skill he did hunt! He would pick crumbs
from the lank chaps of famine; he gathered
nourishment from the empty air; he lifted it from wells
and watercourses; he picked it off clothes lines and
hedges; he stole so cleverly from the bees that they
never felt his hand in their pocket; he would lift the
eggs from beneath a bird, and
she would think that his finger was a chicken; he would
clutch a hen from the roost, and the housewife would
think he was the yard dog, and the yard dog would
think he was its brother.
He had a culture too, and if it was not wide it was
profound; he knew wind and weather as few
astronomers know it; he knew the habit of the trees
and the earth ; how the seasons moved, not as
seasons, but as days and hours; he had gathered all
the sweets of summer, and the last rigour of winter
was no secret to him; he had fought with the winter
every year of his life as one fights with a mad beast, he
had held off that grizzliest of muzzles and escaped
He knew men and women, and he knew them from an
angle at which they seldom caught themselves or each
other; he knew them as prey to be bitten and escaped
from quickly. At them, charged with a thousand
preoccupations, he lookect`with an eye in which there
was a single surmise, and he
divined them in a flash. In this quick vision he saw
man, one expression, one attitude for all; never did he
see a man or woman in their fullness, his microscopic
vision caught only what it looked for, but he saw that
with the instant clarity of the microscope. There were
no complexities for him in humanity; there were those
who gave and those who did not give; there were
those who might be cajoled, and those who might be
frightened. If there was goodness in a man he
glimpsed it from afar as a hawk sees a mouse in the
clover, and he swooped on that virtue and was away
with booty. If there was evil in a man he passed it
serenely as a sheep passes by a butcher, for evil did
not affect him. Evil could never put a hand on him, and
he was not evil himself.
If the denominations of virtue or vice must be affixed
to his innocent existence, then these terms would have
to be re-defined, for they had no meaning in his case;
he stood outside these as he did outside of
the social structure. But, indeed, he was not outside
of the social structure at all; he was so far inside of it
that he could never get out; he was at the very heart
of it; he was held in it like a deer in an ornamental
park, or a cork that bobs peacefully in a bucket, and
in the immense, neglected pastures of civilisation he
found his own quietude and his own wisdom.
All of the things he knew and all of the things that he
had done were most competently understood by his
IT is to be remarked that the angels were strangely
like Patsy Mac Cann. Their ideas of right and wrong
almost entirely coincided with his. They had no
property and so they had no prejudices, for the
person who has nothing may look upon the world as
his inheritance, while the person who has something
has seldom anything but that.
Civilisation, having built itself at hazard upon the
Rights of Property, has sought on many occasions to
unbuild itself again in sheer desperation of any
advance, but from the great Ethic of Possession there
never has been any escape, and there never will be
until the solidarity of man has been really created, and
until each man ceases to see the wolf in his
Is there actually a wolf in our neighbour? We see that
which we are, and our eyes project on every side an image of ourselves; if we look
with fear that which we behold is frightful; if we look
with love then the colours of heaven are repeated to
us from the ditch and the dungeon. We invent eternally
upon one another; we scatter our sins broadcast and
call them our neighbours; let us scatter our virtues
abroad and build us a city to live in.
For Mac Cann and his daughter there was no longer
any strangeness in their companions. As day and night
succeeded, as conversation and action supplemented
each other on their journeys, so each of them began to
unfold from the fleshy disguise, and in a short time
they could each have spoken of the others to an
inquiring stranger, giving, within bounds, reasonably
exact information as to habit and mentality.
What conversations they had engaged in! Sitting now
by a hedge close to a tiny chaotic village, compact of
ugliness and stupidity, now at twilight as they camped
in a disused quarry, leaning their shoulders
against great splintered rocks, and hearing no sound
but the magnified, slow trickle of water and the breeze
that sung or screamed against a razor edge of rock; or
lying on the sheltered side of a pit of potatoes, they
stared at the moon as she sailed on her lonely
voyages, or watched the stars that glanced and shone
from the drifting clouds; and as they lifted their eyes to
these sacred voyagers in whose charge is the destiny
of man they lifted their minds also and adored mutely
that mind of which these are the thoughts made visible.
Sometimes they discussed the problems of man in a
thousand superficial relationships. The angels were
wise, but in the vocabulary which they had to use
wisdom had no terms. Their wisdom referred only to
ultimates, and was the unhandiest of tools when dug
into some immediate, curious problem. Before
wisdom can be audible a new language must be
invented, and they also had to unshape their definitions
and re-translate these secular findings into terms
wherein they could see the subject broadly, and they
found that what they gained in breadth they lost in
outline, and that the last generalisation, however
logically it was framed, was seldom more than an
intensely interesting lie when it was dissected again.
No truth in regard to space and time can retain virtue
for longer than the beating of an artery; it too has its
succession, its sidereal tide, and while you look upon
it, round and hardy as a pebble, behold, it is split and
fissured and transformed.
Sometimes when it rained, and it rained often, they
would seek refuge in a haystack, if one was handy; or
they would creep into a barn and hide behind hills of
cabbages or piles of farming tools; or they slid into the
sheds among the cattle where they warmed and fed
themselves against those peaceful flanks; or, if they
were nigh a town and had been lucky that day, they
would pay a few coppers to sleep on the well-
trodden, earthen floor of a house.
As for the ass, he slept wherever he could.
When there was rain he would stand with his tail
against the wind sunken in a reverie so profound that
he no longer seemed to feel the rain or the wind.
From these abysses of thought he would emerge to
the realisation that there was a sheltered side to a wall
or a clump of heather, and he also would take his
timely rest under the stars of God.
What did they say to him? Down the glittering slopes
they peer and nod; before his eyes the mighty pageant
is unrolled in quiet splendour; for him too the signs are
set. Does the Waterman care nothing for his thirst?
Does the Ram not bless his increase? Against his
enemies also the Archer will bend his azure bow and
loose his arrows of burning gold.
On their journeyings they met with many people; not
the folk who lived in the houses dotted here and there
at great distances from each other on the curving
roads, for with these people they had nothing to do,
they had scarcely anything to
say, and the housefolk looked on the strollers with a
suspicion which was almost a fear. The language of
these was seldom gracious, and often, on their
approach, the man of the house was sent for and the
dog was unchained.
But for the vagabonds these people did not count;
Mac Cann and his daughter scarcely looked on them
as human beings, and if he had generalised about them
at all, he would have said that there was no difference
between these folk and the trees that shaded their
dwellings in leafy spray, that they were rooted in their
houses, and that they had no idea of life other than the
trees might have which snuff for ever the same
atmosphere and look on the same horizon until they
droop again to the clay they lifted from.
It was with quite other people they communed.
The wandering ballad singer with his wallet of songs
slung at his ragged haunch; the travelling musician
whose blotchy fiddle could sneeze out the ten strange tunes he had learned
from his father and from his father's generations before
him; the little band travelling the world carrying
saplings and rushes from the stream which they wove
cunningly into tables and chairs warranted not to last
too long; the folk who sold rootless ferns to people
from whose window-ledges they had previously stolen
the pots to plant them in; the men who went roaring
along the roads driving the cattle before them from fair
to market and back again; the hairy tinkers with their
clattering metals, who marched in the angriest of
battalions and who spoke a language composed
entirely of curses.
These, and an hundred varieties of these, they met and
camped with and were friendly with, and to the angels
these people were humanity, and the others were, they
did not know what.
IT Might be asked why Patsy Mac Cann permitted the
strangers to remain with him.
Now that they were dressed like himself he had quite
forgotten, or he never thought of their celestial
character, and they were undoubtedly a burden upon
his ingenuity. They ate as vigorously as he did, and the
food which they ate he had to supply.
There were two reasons for this kindliness.
He had always wished to be the leader of
a troop. In his soul the Ancient Patriarch
was alive and ambitious of leadership. Had
his wife given him more children he would
have formed them and their wives and
children into a band, and the affairs of this
little world would have been directed by
him with pride and pleasure. He would
have observed their goings-out and their
comings-in; he would have apportioned
praise and reproach to his little clann; he would have
instructed them upon a multitude of things, and passed
on to them the culture which he had gathered so
hardily, and, when they arrived at the age of ingenuity,
it would have still been his ambition to dash their
arguments with his superior knowledge, or put the
happy finish to any plan which they submitted for his
approval; he would have taken the road, like a prince
of old, with his tail, and he would have undertaken
such raids and forays that his name and fame would
ring through the underworld like the note of a trumpet.
He could not do this because he only had one child
(the others had died wintry deaths) and she was a girl.
But now heaven itself had blessed him with a following
and he led it with skill and enjoyment. Furthermore, his
daughter, of whom he stood in considerable awe, had
refused flatly to desert the strangers whom Providence
had directed to them.
She had constituted herself in some strange way the
mother of the four men. She cooked for them, she
washed and mended for them, and, when the
necessity arose, she scolded them with the heartiest
Her childhood had known nothing of dolls, and so
her youth made dolls of these men whom she dressed
and fed. Sometimes her existence with them was
peaceful and happy; at other times she almost went
mad with jealous rage. Little by little she began to
demand a domestic obedience which they very
willingly gave her; so they were her men and no one
else's, and the exercise of this power gave her a
delight such as she had never known.
She was wise also, for it was only in domestic affairs
that she claimed their fealty; with their masculine
movements she did not interfere, nor did she interfere
with the task and apportioning of the day, although her
counsel was willingly listened to in these matters; but
when night came, when the
camp was selected, the little cart unloaded, and the
brazier lit, then she stepped briskly to her kingdom
and ruled like a chieftainess.
With her father she often had trouble: he would
capitulate at the end, but not until he had set forth at
length his distaste for her suggestions and his
assurance that she was a strap. She seldom treated
him as a father, for she seldom remembered that
relationship; she loved him as one loves a younger
brother, and she was angry with him as one can only
be angry with a younger brother. Usually she treated
him as an infant; she adored him, and, if he had
permitted it, she would have beaten him soundly on
many an occasion.
For she was a strong girl. She was big in build and
bone, and she was beautiful and fearless. Framed in a
rusty shawl her face leaped out instant and catching as
a torch in darkness; under her clumsy garments one
divined a body to be adored as a revelation; she
walked carelessly as the wind walks, proudly as a
young queen trained in grandeur. She could leap from where she stood, as a
wild-cat that springs terribly from quietude; she could
run as a deer runs, and pause at full flight like a carven
statue. Each movement of hers was complete and
lovely in itself ; when she lifted a hand to her hair the
free attitude was a marvel of composure; it might
never have begun, and might never cease, it was
solitary and perfect; when she bent to the brazier she
folded to such an economy of content that one might
have thought her half her size and yet perfect; she had
that beauty which raises the mind of man to an ecstasy
which is murderous if it be not artistic; and she was so
conscious of her loveliness that she could afford to
forget it, and so careless that she had never yet used it
as a weapon or a plea.
She could not but be aware of her beauty, for her
mirrors had tongues; they were the eyes of those she
met and paused with. No man had yet said anything to
her, saving in rough jest as to a child, but no woman
could speak of anything else in her presence, and these
exclamations drummed through all their talk.
She had been worshipped by many women, for to
physical loveliness in their own sex women are the
veriest slaves. They will love a man for his beauty, but
a woman they will adore as a singularity, as something
almost too good to be true, as something which may
vanish even while they gaze at it. Prettiness they
understand and like or antagonise, but they have
credited beauty as a masculine trait; and as a race
long sunken in slavery, and who look almost
despairingly for a saviour, so the female consciousness
prostrates itself before female beauty as before a
messiah who will lead them to the unconscious horrible
ambitions which are the goal of femininity. But, and it
is humanity's guard against a solitary development,
while women worship a beautiful woman the beauty
does not care for them., she accepts their homage and
flies them as one flies from the deadliest boredom; she
is the widest swing of their pendulum, and must hurry
again from the circumference to the centre with the
violent speed of an outcast who sees from afar the
smoke of his father's house and the sacred roof-tree.
There is a steadying influence; an irreconcilable desire
and ambition; the desire of every woman to be the
wife of a fool, her ambition to be the mother of a
genius; but they postulate genius, it is their outlet and
their justification for that leap at a tangent which they
have already taken.
Out there they have discovered the Neuter. Is the
Genius always to be born from an unfertilised womb,
or rather a self-fertilised one? Singular Messiahs!
scorners of paternity! claiming no less than the
Cosmos for a father; taking from the solitary mother
capacity for infinite suffering and infinite love, whence
did ye gather the rough masculine intellect, the single
eye, all that hardiness of courage and sensibility of self
that made of your souls a battlefield, and of your
memory a terror to drown love under torrents of horrid red! Deluded so
far and mocked! No genius has yet sprung from ye
but the Genius of War and Destruction, those frowning
captains that have ravaged our vineyards and
blackened our generations with the torches of their
To woman beauty is energy, and they would gladly
take from their own sex that which they have so long
accepted from man. They are economical; the ants
and the bees are not more amazingly parsimonious
than they, and, like the Ants and the bees, their
subsequent extravagance is a thing to marvel at. Food
and children they will hoard, and when these are
safeguarded their attitude to the life about them is
ruinous. They will adorn themselves at the expense of
all creation, and in a few years they crush from
teeming life a species which nature has toiled through
laborious ages to perfect. They adorn themselves, and
too often adornment is the chief manifestation of
boredom. They are world-weary, sex
weary, and they do not know what they want ; but
they want power, so that they may rule evolution once
more as long ago they ruled it; their blood remembers
an ancient greatness; they crave to be the queens
again, to hold the sceptre of life in their cruel hands, to
break up the mould which has grown too rigid for
freedom, to form anew the chaos which is a womb,
and which they conceive is their womb, and to create
therein beauty and freedom and power. But the king
whom they have placed on the throne has grown wise
in watching them; he is their bone terribly separated,
terribly endowed; he uses their cruelty, their
fierceness, as his armies against them - and so the
battle is set, and wild deeds may flare from the stars of
rebellion and prophecy.
Mary, who could make women do anything for her,
was entirely interested in making men bow to her will,
and because, almost against her expectation they did
bow, she loved them, and could not sacrifice
herself too much for their comfort or even their
caprice. It was the mother spirit in her which,
observing the obedience of her children, is forced in
very gratitude to become their slave; for, beyond all
things, a woman desires power, and, beyond all
things, she is unable to use it when she gets it. If this
power be given to her grudgingly she will exercise it
mercilessly; if it is given kindly then she is bound by
her nature to renounce authority, and to live happy
ever after, but it must be given to her.
IT may be surprising to learn that the names of the
angels were Irish names, but more than eight hundred
years ago a famous Saint informed the world that the
language spoken in heaven was Gaelic, and,
presumably, he had information on the point. He was
not an Irishman, and he had no reason to exalt Fodhla
above the other nations of the earth, and, therefore, his
statement may be accepted on its merits, the more
particularly as no other saint has denied it, and every
Irish person is prepared to credit it.
It was also believed in ancient times, and the belief
was world-wide, that the entrance to heaven, hell, and
purgatory yawned in the Isle of the Saints, and this
belief also, although it has never been proved, has
never been disproved, and it does assist the
theory that Irish is the celestial language. Furthermore,
Gaelic is the most beautiful and expressive fashion of
speech in the whole world, and, thus, an artistic and
utilitarian reinforcement can be hurried to the support
of that theory should it ever be in danger from
philologists with foreign axes to grind.
The names of the angels were Finaun and Caeltia and
Finaun was the eldest angel; Caeltia was that one who
had a small coal-black beard on his chin, and Art was
the youngest of the three, and he was as beautiful as
the dawn, than which there is nothing more beautiful.
Finaun was an Archangel when he was in his own
place; Caeltia was a Seraph, and Art was a Cherub.
An Archangel is a Councillor and a Guardian; a
Seraph is one who accumulates knowledge; a Cherub
is one who accumulates love. In heaven these were
Finaun was wise, childish, and kind, and between him and the little ass which drew their cart
there was a singular and very pleasant resemblance.
Caeltia was dark and determined, and if he had
cropped his beard with a scissors, the way Patsy Mac
Cann did, he would have resembled Patsy Mac Cann
as closely as one man can resemble another.
Art was dark also, and young and swift and beautiful.
Looking carelessly at him one would have said that,
barring the colour, he was the brother of Mary Mac
Cann, and that the two of them were born at a birth,
and a good birth.
Mary extended to Finaun part of the affection which
she already had for the ass, and while they were
marching the roads these three always went together;
the archangel would be on one side of the donkey and
Mary would be on the other side, and (one may say
so) the three of them never ceased talking for an
The ass, it will be admitted, did not speak, but he
listened with such evident intention
that no one could say he was out of the conversation;
his right-hand ear hearkened agilely to Mary; his left-
hand ear sprang to attention when Finaun spoke, and
when, by a chance, they happened to be silent at the
one moment then both his ears drooped forward
towards his nose, and so he was silent also. A hand
from either side continually touched his muzzle
caressingly, and at moments entirely unexpected he
would bray affectionately at them in a voice that
would have tormented the ears of any but a true
Patsy Mac Cann and the seraph Caeltia used to
march exactly at the tail of the cart, and they, also,
talked a lot.
At first Patsy talked the most, for he had much
information to impart, and the seraph listened with
intent humility, but, after a while, Caeltia, having
captured knowledge,. would dispute and argue with
great vivacity. They spoke of many things, but a
person who listened closely and recorded these things
would have found that they talked oftener
about strong drinks than about anything else. Mac
Cann used to speak longingly about strange waters
which he had heard were brewed in foreign lands,
potent brewings,which had been described to him by
emphatic sailormen with tarry thumbs; buf at this stage
Caeltia only spoke about porter and whisky, and was
well contented to talk of these.
The cherub Art was used to promenade alone behind
them all, but sometimes he would go in front and listen
to the conversation with the ass; sometimes he would
join the two behind and force them to consider
matters in which they were not interested, and
sometimes again he would range the fields on either
side, or he would climb a tree, or he would go alone
by himself shouting a loud song that he had learned at
the fair which they had last journeyed to, or he would
prance silently along the road as though his body was
full of jumps and he did not know what to do with
them, or he would trudge forlornly in a boredom so
profound that one expected him to drop dead of it in his tracks.
So life fell into a sort of routine.
When they were camped for the night Caeltia and Art
would always sit on one side of the brazier with Patsy
Mac Cann sitting between them; on the other side of
the brazier the archangel and Mary would sit; Finaun
always sat very close to her when they had finished
eating and were all talking together; he used to take
her long plait of hair into his lap, and for a long time he
would unplait and plait again the end of that lovely
Mary liked him to do this, and nobody else minded it.
EILEEN NI COOLEY
EARLY in the morning the sun had been shining
gloriously, and there was a thump of a wind blowing
across the road that kept everything gay; the trees
were in full leaf and every bough went jigging to its
neighbour, but on the sky the clouds raced so fast
that they were continually catching each other up and
getting so mixed that they could not disentangle
themselves again, and from their excessive gaiety
black misery spread and the sun took a gloomy cast.
Mac Cann screwed an eye upwards like a bird and
rubbed at his chin.
"There will be rain soon," said he, "and the country
" It will be heavy rain," said his daughter.
"It will so," he replied; "let us be getting along now
the way we'll be somewhere before the rain comes,
for I never did like getting wetted by rain, and nobody ever did
except the people of the County Cork, and they are
so used to it that they never know whether it's raining
or whether it isn,'t."
So they encouraged the ass to go quicker and he did
As they hastened along the road they saw in front of
them two people marching close together, and in a
little time they drew close to these people.
" I know the look of that man's back," said Patsy, "
but I can't tell you where I saw it. I've a good
memory for faces, though, and I'll tell you all about
him in a minute."
"Do you know the woman that is with him?" said
"You can't tell a woman by her back," replied Patsy,
"and nobody could, for they all have the same back
when they have a shawl on."
Mary turned her head to them:
"Every woman's back is different," said she, "whether
there's a shawl on it or not,
and I know from the way that woman is wearing her
shawl that she is Eileen Ni Cooley and no one else."
"If that is so," said her father hastily,
let us be going slower the way we won't catch up on
her. Mary, a grah, whisper a word in the ass's ear so
that he won't be going so quick, for he is full of fun this
" I'll do that," said Mary, and she said "whoa" into the
ear of the little ass, and he stopped inside the quarter
of a pace.
"Do you not like that woman?" Caeltia enquired.
"She's a bad woman," replied Patsy.
"What sort of a bad woman is she?"
" She's the sort that commits adultery with every kind
of man, " said he harshly.
Caeltia turned over that accusation for a moment.
" Did she ever commit adultery with yourself ? " said
"She did not," said Patsy, "and that's why I don't like
Caeltia considered that statement also, and found it
"I think," said he, "that the reason you don't like that
woman is because you like her too much. "
"It's so," said Patsy, "but there is no reason for her
taking on with every kind of man and not taking on
with me at all."
He was silent for a moment.
"I tell you," said he furiously, "that I made love to that
woman from the dawn to the dark, and then she
walked off with a man that came down a little road."
" That was her right," said Caeltia mildly.
"Maybe it was, but for the weight of a straw I would
have killed the pair of them that night in the dark
" Why didn't you? "
" She had me weakened. My knees gave under me
when she walked away and there wasn't even a curse
in my mouth."
Again he was silent, and again he broke into angry
"I don't want to see her at all, for she
torments me, so let the pair of them walk their road
until they come to a ditch that is full of thorns and is fit
for them to die in."
"I think," said Caeltia, "that the reason you don't want
to see her is because you want to see her too much."
" It's so," growled Mac Cann, " and it's so too that
you are a prying kind of a man and that your mouth is
never at rest, so we'll go on now to the woman
yonder, and let you talk to her with your tongue and
your nimble questions."
Thereupon he rushed forward and kicked the ass so
suddenly in the belly that it leaped straight off the
ground and began to run before its legs touched earth
When they had taken a few dozen steps Mac Cann
began to roar furiously:
"What way are you, Eileen Ni Cooley? What sort of
a man is it that's walking beside yourself? "
And he continued roaring questions such as that until
they drew on the people.
The folk stopped at his shouts.
The woman was big and thin and she had red hair.
Her face was freckled all over so that one could only
see her delicate complexion in little spots, and at the
first glance the resemblance between herself and
Finaun was extraordinary. In the sweep of the brow,
the set of the cheek-bones, a regard of the eyes, that
resemblance was seen, and then the look vanished in a
poise of the head and came again in another one.
At the moment her blue eyes seemed the angriest that
ever were in a woman's head. She stood leaning on a
thick ash-plant and watched the advancing company,
but she did not utter a word to them.
The man by her side was tall also and as thin as a
pole; he was ramshackle and slovenly; there was not
much pith in his body, for he was weak at the knees
and his big feet splayed outwards at a curious angle;
but his face was extraordinary intelligent, and when he
was younger must have been beautiful. Drink and ill-
health had dragged and carved his flesh, and nothing of
comeliness remained to him but his eyes, which were
timid and tender as those of a fawn, and his hands
which had never done anything but fumble with
women. He also leaned quietly on a cudgel and
watched Patsy Mac Cann.
And it was to him that Patsy came. He did not look
once at the woman, though all the time he never
ceased shouting salutations and questions at her by her
He walked directly to the man, eyeing him intently.
"And how is yourself?" he roared with horrible
heartiness. " It's a while since I saw you, and it was
the pitch night that time."
" I'm all right," said the man.
"So you are," said Patsy, "and why wouldn't you be ?
Weren't you born in the wide lap of good luck, and
didn't you stay there? Ah, it's the way that the men
that come down little, narrow paths do have fortune,
and the ones that tramp the wide
roads do have nothing but their broken feet. Good
luck to you, my soul, and long may you wave - Eh! "
"I didn't say a word," said the man.
."And there's a stick in your hand that would crack the
skull of a mountain, let alone a man."
"It's a good stick," said the man.
"Would you be calling it the brother or the husband of
the one that the woman has in her happy hands."
"I would be calling it a stick only," replied the man.
" That's the name for it surely," said Patsy, " for a stick
hasn't got a soul any more than a woman has, and isn't
that a great mercy and a great comfort, for heaven
would be full of women and wood, and there would
be no room for the men and the drink."
The red-haired woman strode to Patsy and, putting
her hand against his breast, she gave him a great push:
" If you're talking," said she, " or if
you're fighting, turn to myself, for the man doesn't
Patsy did turn to her with a great laugh:
"It's the one pleasure of my life to have your hands on
me," he gibed. " Give me another puck now, and a
hard one, the way I'll feel you well."
The woman lifted her ash-plant threateningly and
crouched towards him, but the look on his face was
such that she let her hand fall again.
"You're full of fun," said Patsy, "and you always were,
but we're going to be the great friends from now on,
yourself and myself and the man with the stick; we'll
be going by short cuts everywhere in the world, and
having a gay time."
"We're not going with you, Padraig," said the woman,
"and whatever road you are taking this day the man
and myself will be going another road."
"Whoo!" said Patsy, " there are roads everywhere,
so you're all right, and there are men on every one of
WHILE this conversation had been taking place the
others stood in a grave semicircle, and listened intently
to their words.
Caeltia, regarding the sky, intervened:
" The rain will be here in a minute, so we had better
walk on and look for shelter."
Mac Cann detached his heavy regard from Eileen Ni
Cooley, and swept the sky and the horizon.
"That is so," said he. "Let us go ahead now, for we've
had our talk, and we are all satisfied."
" There is a broken-down house stuck up a
bohereen," he continued. " It's only a few perches up
this road, for I remember passing the place the last
time I was this way; that place will give us shelter
while the rain spills."
He turned his stubborn face to the woman:
"You can come with us if you like, and you can stay
where you are if you like, or you can go to the devil,"
and, saying so, he tramped after his daughter.
The woman had just caught sight of Art the cherub,
and was regarding him with her steady eyes.
"Whoo!" said she, "I'm not the one to be frightened
and I never was, so let us all go along and talk about
our sins in the wet weather."
They started anew on the road, Patsy's company in
advance, and behind marched the woman and the
man and Art the cherub.
The sun had disappeared; wild clouds were piling
themselves in rugged hills along the sky, and the world
was growing dull and chill. Against the grey
atmosphere Art's face was in profile, an outline sharp
and calm and beautiful.
Eileen Ni Cooley was regarding him curiously as they walked together, and the strange
man, with a wry smile on his lips, was regarding her
with a like curiosity.
She pointed towards Patsy Mac Cann, who was
tramping vigorously a dozen yards ahead.
"Young boy," said she, "where did you pick up with
the man yonder, for the pair of you don't look
Art had his hands in his pockets; he turned and
looked at her tranquilly.
"Where did you pick up with that man," he nodded
towards her companion, "and where did the man pick
up with you, for you don't look matched either? "
"We're not," said the woman quickly;
we're not matched a bit. That man and myself do be
quarrelling all day and all night, and threatening to
walk away from each other every minute of the time."
The man stared at her.
"Is that how it is with us?" said he.
" It is," said she to Art, "that's the way it is with us,
honey. The man and myself
have no love for each other now, and we never had."
The man halted suddenly; he changed the cudgel to his
left hand and thrust out his right hand to her.
" Put your own hand there," said he,
"and shake it well, and then be going along your road."
"What are you talking about?" said she.
He replied, frowning sternly from his wild eyes:
"I wouldn't hold the grace of God if I saw it slipping
from me, so put your hand into my hand and go along
Eileen Ni Cooley put her hand into his with some
awkwardness and turned away her head.
"There it is for you," said she.
Then the man turned about and flapped quickly along
the path they had already travelled; his cudgel beat the
ground with a sharp noise, and he did not once look
Before he had taken an hundred paces the rain
came, a fine, noiseless drizzle.
"It will be heavy in a minute," said the woman, "let us
run after the cart."
With a quick movement she tucked her shawl about
her head and shoulders and started to run, and Art
went after her in alternate long hops of each foot.
They had reached a narrow path running diagonally
from the main road.
"Up this way," shouted Patsy, and the company
trooped after him, leaving the ass and cart to the
Two minutes' distance up the road stood a small,
dismantled house. There was a black gape where the
window had been, and there were holes in the walls.
In these holes grass and weeds were waving, as they
were along the window-ledge. The roof was covered
with a rusty thatch and there were red poppies
growing on that.
Patsy climbed through the low windowspace, and
the others climbed in after him.
INSIDE the house was an earthen floor, four walls,
and plenty of air. There were breezes blowing in the
empty house, for from whatever direction a wind
might come it found entrance there. There were
stones lying everywhere on the floor; some of them
had dropped from the walls, but most had been
jerked through the window by passing children.
There were spider's webs in that house; the roof was
covered with them, and the walls were covered with
them too. It was a dusty house, and when it would
be wet enough it would be a muddy house, and it
was musty with disuse and desolation.
But the company did not care anything about dust or
stones or spiders. They kicked the stones aside and
sat on the floor in the most sheltered part of the place
where there had once been a fireplace, and if a spider
walked on any of them it was permitted.
Patsy produced a clay pipe and lit it, and Caeltia took
a silver-mounted briar from his pocket and he lit that
and smoked it.
Outside the rain suddenly began to fall with a low
noise and the room grew dark. Within there was a
brooding quietness, for none of the people spoke;
they were all waiting for each other to speak.
Indeed, they had all been agitated when they came in,
for the wrung face of Patsy and the savage eyes of
Eileen Ni Cooley had whipped their blood. Tragedy
had sounded her warning note on the air, and they
were each waiting to see had they a part in the play.
But the sudden change of atmosphere wrought like a
foreign chemical in their blood, the sound of the falling
rain dulled their spirits, the must of that sleeping house
went to their brains like an opiate, and the
silence of the place folded them about, compelling
them to a similar quietude.
We are imitative beings; we respond to the tone and
colour of our environment almost against ourselves,
and still have our links with the chameleon and the
moth; the sunset sheds its radiant peace upon us and
we are content; the silent mountain-top lays a finger on
our lips and we talk in whispers; the clouds lend us of
their gaiety and we rejoice. So for a few moments
they sat wrestling with the dull ghosts of that broken
house, the mournful phantasms that were not dead
long enough to be happy, for death is sorrowful at first
and for a long time, but afterwards the dead are
contented and learn to shape themselves anew.
Patsy, drawing on his pipe, looked around the people.
" Eh! " he exclaimed with heavy joviality, "where has
the man got to, the man with the big stick ? If he's shy
let him come in, and if he's angry let him come in too."
Eileen Ni Cooley was sitting close beside Art. She
had let her shawl droop from her head, and her hair
was showing through the dusk like a torch.
" The man has gone away, Padraig," said she;-" he got
tired of the company, and he's gone travelling towards
his own friends."
Patsy regarded her with shining eyes. The must of the
house was no longer in his nostrils; the silence lifted
from him at a bound.
"You are telling me a fine story, Eileen, said he, "tell
me this too, did the man go away of his own will, or
did you send him away? "
"It was a bit of both, Padraig."
"The time to get good news," said Patsy,
is when it's raining, and that is good news, and it's
" News need not be good or bad, but only news," she
replied, "and we will leave it at that. "
Caeltia spoke to her:
" Do you have a good life going by yourself about the country and making acquaintances
where you please ? "
" I have the life I like," she answered, "and whether it's
good or bad doesn't matter."
" Tell me the reason you never let himself make love
to you when he wants to make it? "
" He is a domineering man," said she, "and I am a
proud woman, and we would never give in to each
other. When one of us would want to do a thing the
other one wouldn't do it, and there would be no living
between us. If I said black he would say white, and if
he said yes 1 would say no, and that's how we are. "
"He has a great love for you."
"He has a great hate for me. He loves me the way a
dog loves bones, and in a little while he'd kill me in a
lonely place with his hands to see what I would look
like and I dying."
She turned her face to Mac Cann:
"That's the kind of man you are to me, Padraig, although you're different to other people."
" I am not that sort of man, but it's yourself is like that.
I tell you that if I took a woman with me I'd be
staunch to her the way I was with the mother of the
girl there, and if you were to come with me you
wouldn't have any complaint from now on."
"I know every thing I'm talking about," she replied
sternly, " and I won't go with you, but I'll go with the
young man here beside me."
With the words she put her hand on Art's arm and
kept it there.
Mary Mac Cann straightened up where she was
sitting and became deeply interested.
Art turned and burst into a laugh as he looked
critically at Eileen.
" I will not go with you, " said he. I don't care for you
She gave a hard smile and removed her hand from his
It's all the worse for me," said she,
and it's small harm to you, young boy."
"That's a new answer for yourself," said Patsy,
"It is, and it's a new day for me, and a poor day, for
it's the first day of my old age."
"You'll die in a ditch," cried Patsy, "you'll die in a
ditch like an old mare with a broken leg."
"I will," she snarled, "when the time comes, but you'll
never have the killing of me, Padraig."
Finaun was sitting beside Mary with her hand in his,
but she snatched her hand away and flared so fiercely
upon Eileen that the woman looked up.
" Don't be angry with me, Mary," said she; "I never
did you any harm yet and I'll never be able to do it
now, for there are years between us, and they're
going to break my back."
Finaun was speaking, more, it seemed, to himself than
to the company. He combed his white beard with his hand as he spoke,
and they all looked at him.
"He is talking in his sleep," said Eileen pensively, " and
he an old man, and a nict old man."
"My father," said Caeltia, in an apologetic voice;
"there is no need to tell about that."
"There is every need, my beloved," replied Finaun
with his slow smile.
"I would rather you did not," murmured Caeltia, lifting
his hand a little.
"I ask your permission, my son," said Finaun gently.
Caeltia spread out his open palms and dropped them
" Whatever you wish to do is good, my father," and,
with a slight blush, he slid the pipe into his pocket.
Finaun turned to Eileen Ni Cooley:
" I will tell you a story," said he.
"Sure," said Eileen, "I'd love to hear you, and I could
listen to a story for a day and a night."
Mac Cann pulled solemnly at his pipe and regarded
Finaun who was looking at him peacefully from a
" You're full of fun," said he to the archangel.
"While generation succeeds generation a man has to
fight the same fight. At the end he wins, and he never
has to fight that battle again, and then he is ready for
"Every man from the beginning has one enemy from
whom he can never escape, and the story of his lives
is the story of his battles with that enemy whom he
must draw into his own being before he can himself
attain to real being, for an enemy can never be
crushed, but every enemy can be won.
" Long before the foundations of this world were laid,
when the voice was heard and the army of the voice
went through the darkness, two people came into
being with the universe that was their shell.
"They lived through myriad existences knowing star
after star grow hot and cold in the broad sky, and
they hated each other through the changing of the
stars and the ebbing and flooding of their lives.
"At a time this one of them would be a woman and
that other would be a man, and again in due period
the one that had been a woman would be a man and
the other would be a woman, that their battle might be
joined in the intimacy which can only come through
difference and the distance that is attraction.
" No one can say which of these did most harm to the
other; no one can say which was the most ruthless,
the most merciless, for they were born, as all enemies
are, equal in being and in power.
" Through their lives they had many names and they
lived in many lands, but their names in eternity were
Finaun Mac Dea and Caeltia Mac Dea, and when the
time comes, their name will be Mac Dea and nothing
else: then they will become one in each other, and one in Infinite
Greatness, and one in the unending life of Eternity
which is God: but still, in world under world, in star
under flaming star, they pursue each other with a
hate which is slowly changing into love.
" It was not on earth, nor in any planet, that the
beginning of love came to these two, it was in the hell
that they had fashioned for themselves in terror and
lust and cruelty. For, as they sat among their demons,
a seed germinated in the soul of one, the seed of
knowledge which is the parent of love and the parent
of every terrible and beautiful thing in the worlds and
"While that one looked on his companion, writhing
like himself in torment, he grew conscious, and
although he looked at the other with fury it was with a
new fury, for with it came contempt, and they were no
longer equal in power or in hate.
" Now, for the first time, that one in
whom knowledge had been born desired to escape
from his companion; he wished to get away so that he
might never behold that enemy again; suddenly the
other appeared to him hideous as a toad that couches
in slime and spits his poison at random, but he could
not escape, and he could never escape.
"As that one increased in knowledge so he increased
in cruelty and power, so his lust became terrible, for
now there was fear in his contempt because he could
never escape. Many a time they fled from one
another, but always, and however they fled, it was
towards each other their steps were directed. At the
feast, in the camp, and in the wilderness they found
themselves and undertook anew the quarrel which
was their blood and their being.
"And that other in whom knowledge had not
awakened - He raged like a beast; he thought in
blood and fever; his brains were his teeth and the nails
of his hands. Cunning came creepingly to his aid
against knowledge ; he lay in wait for his enemy in gloomy
places ; he spread snares for him in the darkness and
baited traps. He feigned humility to get closer to his
vengeance, but he could not combat knowledge.
"Time and again he became the slave of that other,
and as slave and master their battle was savagely
joined, until at last knowledge stirred also in that mind
and he grew conscious.
"Then the age-long enmity drew to its change. For him
there was no contempt possible, the other was older
than he and wiser, for to be wise is to be old ; there
was no vantage for contempt, but envy sharpened his
sword, it salted his anger, and they fought anew and
" But now their hands were not seeking each other's
throats with such frank urgency; they fought
subterraneously, with smiles and polite words and
decent observances, but they did not cease for an
instant to strive and never did they forsake
an advantage or lift up the one that had fallen.
" Again the change: and now they battled not in the
name of hate but under the holy superscription of love;
again and again, life after life, they harried and ruined
each other; their desire for one another was a
madness, and in that desire they warred more bitterly
than before. They blasted each other's lives, they
dashed their honour to the mud, they slew one
another. Than this none of their battles had been so
terrible. Here there was no let, no respite even for an
instant. They knew each other with that superficial
knowledge which seems so clear although it shows
no more than the scum floating upon existence; they
knew the scumminess of each other and exhausted to
the dregs their abundant evil until of evil they could
learn no further, and their lives, alternating in a fierce
energy and a miserable weariness, came towards but
could not come to stagnation.
"The horizon vanished from them; there were irons
on the feet of the winds; the sun peered from a hood
through a mask, and life was one room wherein dull
voices droned dully, wherein something was for ever
uttered and nothing was said, where hands were for
ever lifted and nothing was done, where the mind
smouldered and flared to lightning and no thought
came from the spark.
"They had reached an end, and it was a precipice
down which they must spin giddily to the murk, or else
shape wings for themselves and soar from that
completion, for completion is a consciousness, and
once again they were powerfully aware of themselves.
They were vice-conscious, and virtue did not abide in
their minds than as a dream which was an illusion and
"Then, and this too was long ago! how long! When the
moon was young; when she gathered rosy clouds
about her evening and sang at noon from bush and
mountain ledge; when she folded her breasts in dewy darkness
and awakened with cries of joy to the sun ; then she
tended her flowers in the vale; she drove her kine to
deep pasture: she sang to her multitudes of increase
and happiness while her feet went in the furrow with
the plough and her hand guided the sickle and the
sheaf. Great love didst thou give when thou wast a
mother, 0 Beautiful! who art now white as silver and
hath ice upon thine ancient head.
"Again they lived and were wed.
" Which of them was which in that sad pilgrimage it is
not now possible to know. Memory faints at the long
tale of it, and they were so intermingled, so alike
through all their difference that they were becoming
one in the great memory. Again they took up
the time-long burden, and again desire drew them wildly to the
embrace which was much repugnance and very little
love. So, behold these two, a man and a woman,
walking through the pleasant light, taking each other's hands in a kindness
that had no roots, speaking words of affection that
their souls groaned the lie to.
" The woman was fair - she was fair as one star that
shines on the void and is not abashed before
immensity; she was beautiful as a green tree by a pool
that bows peacefully to the sun; she was lovely as a
field of mild corn waving to the wind in one slow
movement. Together they plumbed their desire and
found wickedness glooming at the bottom, and they
were conscious of themselves and of all evil.
" There was a demon in the pit that they had digged,
and always, when they founded anew their hell, he
tormented them; he was the accumulation of their evil ;
age after age they re-created him until he showed
gigantic and terrible as a storm, and as they lusted
after each other so he lusted after them.
"On a time that Misery shaped itself
as a man and came privily to the woman while she
walked under heavy apple boughs in a garden. Their
feet went to and fro closely together in the grass and
their voices communed together, until one day the
woman cried bitterly that there were no wings, and
with the Spectre she leaped forthright to the chasm
and went down shrieking a laughter that was woe.
There she found herself and her demon and was the
concubine of that one; and there, in the gulf and chasm
of evil, she conjured virtue to her tortured soul and
stole energy from the demon.
She sat among the rocks of her place.
Old Misery beside her laughed his laugh, and while
she looked at him her eyes went backwards in her
head, and when she looked again she saw differently,
for in that space knowledge had put forth a bud and a
blossom and she looked through knowledge. She saw
herself and the demon and the man, and she prayed to
the demon. As she prayed she gathered small blue
flowers that peered sparsely among the crags, and she
made a chaplet of these. She wove them with tears
and sighs, and when the chaplet was made she put it
to the demon's hand, praying him to bear it to the man.
" He did that for her because he loved to laugh at their
trouble, and he divined laughter for his iron chaps.
" So the demon came terribly to the man as he walked
under the swaying and lifting of green boughs in the
long grass of an orchard, and he put the chaplet in the
man's hand, saying:
"'My concubine, your beloved, sends a greeting to you
with her love and this garland of blue flowers which
she has woven with her two hands in hell.'
"The man, looking on these flowers, felt his heart move
within him like water.
"'Bring her to me,' said he to the demon.
"'I will not do
so,' replied the Misery.
And, suddenly, the man leaped on the Spectre. He
locked his arms about that
cold neck, and clung furiously with his knees.
"' Then I will go to her with you,' said he.
"And together they went headlong down the pit, and
as they fell they battled frightfully in the dark pitch."
MAC CANN was asleep, but when Finaun's voice
ceased he awakened and stretched himself with a
" I didn't hear a word of that story," said he.
" I heard it," said Eileen Ni Cooley "it was a good
" What was it about?"
"I don't know," she replied.
" Do you know what it was about, Mary? "
" I do not, for I was thinking about other things at the
Finaun took her hand.
"There was no need for any of you to know what that
story was about, excepting you only," and he looked
very kindly at Eileen Ni Cooley.
" I listened to it, " said she; "and it was a good story. I
know what it was about, but I would not know how to tell what it was
"It must have been the queer yarn," said Patsy
regretfully; "I wish I hadn't gone to sleep."
"I was awake for you," said Caeltia.
"What's the use of that?" said Patsy testily.
It was still raining.
The day was far advanced and evening was spinning
her dull webs athwart the sky. Already in the broken
house the light had diminished to a brown gloom, and
their faces looked watchful and pale to each other as
they crouched on the earthen floor. Silence was again
seizing on them, and each person's eyes were
focussing on some object or point on the wall or the
floor as their thoughts began to hold them.
Mac Cann roused himself.
" We are here for the night; that rain won't stop as
long as there's a drop left in its can."
Mary bestirred herself also.
" I'll slip down to the cart and bring back whatever
food is in it. I left every thing covered and I don't
think they'll be too wet."
"Do that," said her father.
" There's a big bottle rolled up in a sack," he
continued; " it's in a bucket at the front of the cart by
the right shaft, and there's a little sup of whisky in the
"I'll bring that too."
"You're a good girl," said he.
" What will I do with the ass this night ? said Mary.
"Hit him a kick," said her father.
THE ass stood quietly where he had been left.
Rain was pouring from him as though he were the
father of rivers and supplied the world with running
water. It dashed off his flanks; it leaped down his
tail; it foamed over his forehead to his nose, and hit
the ground from there with a thump.
"I'm very wet," said the ass to himself,
and I wish I wasn't."
His eyes were fixed on a brown stone that had a
knob on its back. Every drop of rain that hit the
stone jumped twice and then spattered to the
ground. After a moment he spoke to himself again:
"I don't care whether it stops raining or not, for I
can't be any wetter than I am, however it goes."
Having said this, he dismissed the
weather and settled himself to think. He hung his head
slightly and fixed his eyes afar off, and he stared
distantly like that without seeing anything while he
gathered and revolved his thoughts.
The first thing he thought about was carrots.
He thought of their shape, their colour, and the way
they looked in a bucket. Some would have the thick
end stuck up, and some would have the other end
stuck up, and there were always bits of clay sticking
to one end or the other. Some would be lying on their
sides as though they had slipped quietly to sleep, and
some would be standing in a slanting way as though
they were leaning their backs against a wall and
couldn't make up their minds what to do next. But,
however they looked in the bucket, they all tasted
alike, and they all tasted well. They are a
companionable food; they make a pleasant, crunching
noise when they are bitten, and so, when one is eating
carrots, one can listen to the sound of one's eating and make a
story from it.
Thistles make a swishing noise when they are bitten;
they have their taste.
Grass does not make any noise at all; it slips dumbly
to the sepulchre, and makes no sign.
Bread makes no sound when it is eaten by an ass; it
has an interesting taste, and it clings about one's teeth
for a long time.
Apples have a good smell and a joyful crunch, but the
taste of sugar lasts longer in the mouth, and can be
remembered for longer than anything else; it has a
short, sharp crunch that is like a curse, and instantly it
blesses you with the taste of it.
Hay can be eaten in great mouthfuls. It has a chip and
a crack at the first bite, and then it says no more. It
sticks out of one's mouth like whiskers, and you can
watch it with your eye while it moves to and fro
according as your mouth moves. It is a friendly food,
and very good for the hungry.
Oats are not a food ; they are a great blessing; they
are a debauch; they make you proud, so that you
want to kick the front out of a cart, and climb a tree,
and bite a cow, and chase chickens.
Mary came running and unyoked him from the cart.
She embraced him on the streaming nose. " You poor
thing, you!" said she, and she took a large paper
bag from the cart and held it to his muzzle. There was
soft sugar in the bag, and half a pound of it clove to
his tongue at the first lick.
As she went back to the house with the bundle of
food the ass regarded her.
"You are a good girl," said the ass.
He shook himself and dissipated his thoughts; then he
trotted briskly here and there on the path to see if
there was anything worth looking for.
They shared the food: there was little of it, and some
of it was wet ; but they each had a piece of bread, a
knuckle of cheese, and three cold potatoes.
Mary said there was something wrong with her, and
she passed two of her cold potatoes to the cherub
Art, who ate them easily.
"I wish you had given them to me," said her father.
"I'll give you one of mine," said Bileen Ni Cooley, and
she thrust one across to him.
Mac Cann pushed it entire into his mouth, and ate it
as one who eats in a trance: he stared at Eileen.
"Why did you give me your potato?" said he.
Eileen blushed until not a single freckle in her face
"I don't know," she answered.
"You don't seem to know anything at all this day," he
complained. "You're full of fun, " said he.
He lit his pipe, and, after pulling for a while at it, he
handed it to the woman.
" Take a draw at that pipe," he commanded, "and let
us be decent with each other."
Eileen Ni Cooley did take a draw at the pipe, but she
handed it back soon.
" I never was much at the smoking," said she.
Caeltia had his pipe going at full blast. He was leaning
against the wall with his eyes half closed, and was
thinking deeply between puffs.
Finaun had a good grip on Mary's hair, which he was
methodically plaiting and unloosening again. He was
sunken in reverie.
Mary was peeping from beneath her lids at Art, and
was at the same time watching everybody else to see
that she was not observed.
Art was whistling to himself in a low tone, and he was
looking fixedly at a spider.
The spider was hauling on a loose rope of his tent, and
he was very leisurely. One would have thought that he
was smoking also.
" What did you have for dinner? " said Art to the
"Nothing, sir, but a little, thin, wisp of a young fly,"
said the spider.
He was a thick-set, heavy kind of spider, and he
seemed to be middle-aged, and resigned to it.
" That is all I had myself," said Art.
Are the times bad with you now, or are they
" Not so bad, glory be to God! The flies do wander in
through the holes, and when they come from the light
outside to the darkness in here, sir, we catch them on
the wall, and we crunch their bones."
"Do they like that?"
" They do not, sir, but we do. The
lad with the stout, hairy legs, down there beside your
elbow, caught a blue-bottle yesterday; there was
eating on that fellow, I tell you, and he's not all eaten
yet, but that spider is always lucky, barring the day he
caught the wasp."
"That was a thing he didn't like?" queried Art.
"Don't mention it to him, sir, he doesn't care to talk
" What way are you going to fasten up your rope? "
" I'll put a spit on the end of it, and then I'll thump it
with my head to make it stick."
"Well, good luck to yourself."
"Good luck to your honour."
Said Patsy to Caeltia, pointing to Finaun: " What does
he be thinking about when he gets into them fits ? "
" He does be talking to the hierarchy," replied Caeltia.
"And who are themselves?"
"They are the people in charge of this world."
"Is it the kings and the queens and the Holy Pope?"
"No, they are different kinds of people."
" What does he be talking to them about?"
" Every kind of thing," replied Caeltia, and yawned
also. "They are asking him for advice now."
"What is he saying?"
"He is talking about love," said Caeltia.
"He is always talking about that," said Patsy.
"And," said Caeltia, "he is talking about knowledge."
"It's another word of his."
" And he is saying that love and knowledge are the
" I wouldn't put it past him," said Patsy.
For he was in a bad temper. Either the close
confinement, or the dull weather,
or the presence of Eileen Ni Cooley, or all of these, had
made him savage.
He arose and began striding through the narrow room,
kicking stones from one side of the place to the other
and glooming fiercely at everybody. Twice he halted
before Eileen Ni Cooley, staring at her, and twice,
without a word said, he resumed his marching.
Suddenly he leaned his back against the wall facing her,
" Well, Eileen a grah, the man went away from you, the
man with the big stick and the lengthy feet. Ah! that's a
man you'd be crying out for and you all by yourself in
"He was a good man," said Eileen;
"there was no harm in that man, Padraig."
"Maybe he used to be putting his two arms around you
now and then beside a hedge and giving you long kisses
on the mouth? "
"He used to be doing that."
"Aye did he, indeed, and he wasn't the first man to do
"Maybe you're right, Padraig."
"Nor the twenty-first."
" You've got me here in the house, Padraig, and the
people around us are your own friends."
Caeltia also had arisen to his feet and was staring
morosely at Eileen. Suddenly he leaped to her,
wrenched the shawl from her head with a wide gesture,
and gripped her throat between his hands; as her head
touched the ground she gasped, and then, and just as
suddenly, he released her. He stood up, looking wildly
at Patsy, who stared back at him grinning like a
madman, then he stumbled across to Finaun and took
his hands between his own.
" You must not hurt me, my dear," said Finaun, smiling
gravely at him.
Mary had leaped to Art, whose arm she
took, and they backed to the end of the
Eileen stood up; she arranged her dress
and wrapped the shawl about her head again; she
gazed fearlessly at Mac Cann.
"The house is full of your friends, Padraig, and there's
nobody here with me at all; there's no man could want
better than that for himself."
Patsy's voice was hoarse.
"You're looking for fight?"
"I'm looking for whatever is coming," she replied
"I'm coming, then," he roared, and he strode to her.
He lifted his hands above his head, and brought them
down so heavily on her shoulders that she staggered.
" Here I am," said he, staring into her face.
She closed her eyes.
" I knew it wasn't love you wanted, Padraig; it was
murder you wanted, and you have your wish."
She was swaying under his weight as she spoke; her
knees were giving beneath her.
Eileen," said Patsy, in a small voice,
I'm going to tumble; I can't hold myself up, Eileen; my
knees are giving way under me, and I've only got my
arms round your neck."
She opened her eyes and saw him sagging against her,
with his eyes half closed and his face gone white.
"Sure, Padraig! " said she.
She flung her arms about his body and lifted him, but
the weight was too much, and he went down.
She crouched by him on the floor, hugging his head
against her breast.
"Sure, listen to me, Padraig; I never did like any one in
the world but yourself ; there wasn't a man of them all
was more to me than a blast of wind; you were the
one I liked always. Listen to me now, Padraig. Don't I
be wanting you day and night, and saying prayers to
you in the darkness and crying out in the dawn; my
heart is sore for you, so it is : there's a twist in us, 0
my dear. Don't you be minding the men; whatever
they did it was nothing, it was nothing more than beasts playing
in a field and not caring anything. We are beside one
another for a minute now. When I would put my hand
on my breast in the middle of a
laugh it was you I was touching, and I do never stop
thinking of you in any place under the sky."
They were kissing each other like lost souls; they
babbled and clung to each other; they thrust one
another's head back to stare at it, and pursued the
head with their violent lips.
It was a time before they all got to sleep that night, but
they did sleep at the end of it.
They stretched in the darkness with their eyes closed,
and the night folded them around, separating each one
from his fellow, and putting on each the enchantment
of silence and blindness. They were no longer together
although they were lying but a few inches apart; there
was only the darkness that had no inches to it; the
darkness that has no beginning and no end; that
appears and disappears, calling hush as it comes and
goes, and holding peace and terror in either invisible
hand; there was no silver moon in the sky and no
sparkle of white stars; there was only darkness and
silence and the steady hushing of the rain.
When he awoke in the morning Mac Cann rolled
urgently on his elbow and stared to where Eileen Ni
Cooley had stretched herself for sleep - but she was
not there, she was not anywhere.
He shouted, and the company sprang to their feet.
" She got out through the window," he roared.
"The devil damn the soul of her," said he.
They continued their travels.
It would be more correct to say they continued their
search for food, for that in reality was the objective of
each day's journeying.
Moving thus, day by day, taking practically any road
that presented itself, they had wandered easily
through rugged, beautiful Donegal down into
Connaught. They had camped on the slopes of rough
mountains, slept peacefully in deep valleys that wound
round and round like a corkscrew, traversed for
weeks in Connemara by the clamorous sea where
they lived sumptuously on fish, and then they struck to
the inland plains again, and away by curving paths to
the County Kerry.
At times Mac Cann got work to do - to mend a
kettle that had a little hole in it, to
stick a handle on a pot, to stiffen the last days of a
bucket that was already long past its labour, and he
did these jobs sitting in the sunlight on dusty roads,
and if he did not do them Mary did them for him
while he observed her critically and explained both to
her and to his company the mystery of the tinker's
"There's a great deal," he would say, "in the twist of
And again, but this usually to Art when that cherub
tried his skill on a rusty pot:
"You'll never make a good tinker unless you've got a
hand on you. Keep your feet in your boots and get to
work with your fingers."
And sometimes he would nod contentedly at Mary
There's a girl with real hands on her that aren't feet. "
Hands represented to him whatever of praiseworthy
might be spoken of by a man, but feet were in his
opinion rightly covered, and ought not to be
discovered except in minatory conversation. One ran on them!
Well, it was a dog's trade, or a donkey's; but hands!
he expanded to that subject, and could loose thereon
a gale of praise that would blow all other conversation
across the border.
They set their camp among roaring fairs where every
kind of wild man and woman yelled salutation at Patsy
and his daughter, and howled remembrance of ten and
twenty year old follies, and plunged into drink with the
savage alacrity of those to whom despair is a fairer
brother than hope, and with some of these people the
next day's journey would be shared, rioting and
screaming on the lonely roads, and these people also
the angels observed and were friendly with.
One morning they were pacing on their journey. The
eyes of the little troop were actively scanning the fields
on either hand. They were all hungry, for they had
eaten nothing since the previous midday. But these
fields were barren of
food. Great stretches of grass stretched away to either
horizon, and there was nothing here that could be eaten
except by the donkey.
As they went they saw a man sitting on a raised bank. His
arms were folded; he had a straw in his mouth ; there was a
broad grin on his red face; a battered hat was thrust far back
on his head, and from beneath this a brush of stiff hair poked
in any direction like an ill-tied bundle of black wire.
Mac Cann stared at that red joviality.
"There's a man," said he to Caeltia, "that hasn't got a care in
"It must be very bad for him," commented Caeltia.
"Holloa, mister," cried Patsy heartily, "how's everything?"
"Everything's fine," beamed the man, how's yourself? "
"We're holding up, glory be to God!"
"That's the way."
He waved his hand against the horizon.
"There's weather for you," and he spoke with the proud
humility of one who had made that weather, but would not
boast. His eye was steady on Mac Cann.
"I've got a hunger on me that's worth
" We've all got that," replied Patsy, "and there's nothing in the
cart barring its timbers. I'm keeping an eye out, tho', and
maybe we'll trip over a side of bacon in the middle of the
road or a neat little patch of potatoes in the next field and it
full of the flowery boyoes."
"There's a field a mile up this road," said the man, "and
everything you could talk about is in that field."
"Do you tell me!" said Patsy briskly.
" I do: every kind of thing is in that field, and there's rabbits at
the foot of the hill beyond it."
" I used to have a good shot with a stone," said Patsy.
" Mary, " he continued, "when we come to the field let
yourself and Art gather up
the potatoes while Caeltia and myself take stones in
our hands to kill the rabbits."
"I'm coming along with you," said the man, "and I'll
get my share."
" You can do that," said Patsy.
The man scrambled down the bank. There was
something between his knees of which he was very
" What sort of a thing is that? " said
" It's a concertina and I do play tunes on it before the
houses, and that's how I make my money."
"The musiciner will give us a tune after we get a feed,"
"Sure enough," said the man.
Art stretched out his hand.
"Let me have a look at the musical instrument," said
The man handed it to him and fell into pace beside
Patsy and Caeltia. Mary and Finaun were going as
usual one on either side of the ass, and the three of
them returned to their interrupted conversation.
Every dozen paces Finaun would lean to the border of
the road and pluck a fistful of prime grass or a thistle
or a clutch of chickweed, and he would put these to
the ass's mouth.
Patsy was eyeing the man.
"What's your name, mister?" said he.
"I was known as Old Carolan, but now the people call
me Billy the Music."
" How is it that I never met you before?"
" I'm from Connemara."
" I know every cow-track and bohereen in
Connemara, and I know every road in Donegal and
Kerry, and I know everybody that's on them roads,
but I don't know you, mister."
The man laughed at him.
" I'm not long on the roads, so how could you know
me? What are you called yourself ? "
I'm called Padraig Mac Cann."
I know you well, for you stole a hen and a pair of
boots off me ten months ago when I lived in a house."
150 THE DEMI-GODS
"Do you tell me?" said Mac Cann.
" I do; and I never grudged them to you, for that was
the day that everything happened to me."
Mac Cann was searching his head to find from whom
he had stolen a hen and a pair of boots at the one
" Well, glory be to God he cried. "Isn't it the queer
world! Are you old Carolan, the miserly man of
Temple Cahill? "
The man laughed and nodded.
" I used to be him, but now I'm Billy the Music, and
there's my instrument under the boy's oxter."
Patsy stared at him.
" And where's the house and the cattle, and the
hundred acres of grass land and glebe, and the wife
that people said you used to starve the stomach out of? "
" Faith, I don't know where they are, and I don't care
either," and he shook with the laughter as he said it.
"And your sister that killed herself climbing out of a high window on a windy night to search
for food among the neighbours?"
"She's dead still," said the man, and he doubled up
" I declare," said Patsy, "that it's the end of the world."
The man broke on his eloquence with a pointed
" There's the field I was telling you about and it's
weighty to the ribs with potatoes and turnips."
Patsy turned to his daughter.
" Gather in the potatoes; don't take them all from the
one place, but take them from here and there the way
they won't be missed, and then go along the road with
the cart for twenty minutes and be cooking them.
Myself and Caeltia will catch up on you in a little time
and we'll bring good meat with us."
Caeltia and he moved to the right where a gentle hill
rose against the sky. The hill was thickly wooded,
massive clumps of trees were dotted every little
distance, and through these one could see quiet, green spaces
drowsing in the sun.
When they came to the fringing trees Patsy directed
his companion to go among them some little distance
and then to charge here and there, slashing against the
trees and the ground with a stick.
Caeltia did that, and at the end of a quarter of an hour
Patsy had three rabbits stretched under his hand.
"That's good enough," he called; "we'll go on now after
They stowed the rabbits under their coats and took
They soon caught on their companions. The cart was
drawn to the side of the road, at a little distance the
ass was browsing, and Mary had a fire going in the
brazier and the potatoes ready for the pot.
Patsy tossed the rabbits to her.
" There you are, my girl," said he, and, with Caeltia, he
sank down on the grassy margin of the road and drew
out his pipe.
The strange man was sitting beside Art,
to whom he was explaining the mechanism of a
"While we are waiting," said Patsy to him, " you can
tell us all the news; tell us what happened to the land
and what you're doing on the road ; and there is a bit
of twist to put in your pipe so that you'll talk well."
Mary broke in:
"Wait a minute now, for I want to hear that story; let
yourself help me over with the brazier and we can all
There was a handle to the bucket and through this they
put a long stick and lifted all bodily to the butt of the
"Now we can sit together," said Mary,
"and I can be cooking the food and listening to the
story at the same time."
"I'd sooner give you a tune on the concertina," said
Billy the Music.
"You can do that afterwards," replied Patsy.
"I'll tell you the story," said Billy the Music, "and here it is:
"A year ago I had a farm in the valley. The sun shone
into it, and the wind didn't blow into it for it was well
sheltered, and the crops that I used to take off that
land would astonish you.
"I had twenty head of cattle eating the grass, and they
used to get fat quick and they used to give good milk
into the bargain. I had cocks and hens for the eggs
and the market, and there was a good many folk
would have been glad to get my farm.
" There were ten men always working on the place,
but at harvest-time there would be a lot more, and I
used to make them work too. Myself and my son and
my wife's brother (a lout, that fellow!) used to run
after the men, but it was hard to keep up
with them, for they were great schemers. They tried to
do as little work as ever they were able, and they tried
to get as much money out of me as they could
manage. But I was up to them lads, and it's mighty
little they got out of me without giving twice as much
" Bit by bit I weeded out the men until at last I only
had the ones I wanted, the tried and trusty men. They
were a poor lot, and they didn't dare to look back at
me when I looked at them; but they were able to
work, and that is all I wanted them to do, and I saw
that they did it.
"As I'm sitting beside you on this bank to-day I'm
wondering why I took all the trouble I did take, and
what, in the name of this and that, I expected to get
out of it all. I usen't go to bed until twelve o'clock at
night, and I would be up in the dawn before the birds.
Five o'clock in the morning never saw me stretching in
the warm bed, and every day I would root the men
out of their sleep; often enough I had to throw
them out of bed, for there wasn't a man of them but
would have slept rings round the clock if he got the
"Of course I knew that they didn't want to work for
me, and that, bating the hunger, they'd have seen me
far enough before they'd lift a hand for my good; but I
had them by the hasp, for as long as men have to eat,
any man with the food can make them do whatever he
wants them to do; wouldn't they stand on their heads
for twelve hours a day if you gave them wages? Aye
would they, and eighteen hours if you held them to it.
" I had the idea too that they were trying to rob me,
and maybe they were. It doesn't seem to matter now
whether they robbed me or not, for I give you my
word that the man who wants to rob me to-day is
welcome to all he can get and more if I had it."
" Faith, you're the kind man" said Patsy.
"Let that be," said Billy the Music.
The secret of the thing was that I loved money, hard
money, gold and silver pieces, and pieces of copper. I
liked it better than the people who were round me. I
liked it better than the cattle and the crops. I liked it
better than I liked myself, and isn't that the queer
thing? I put up with the silliest ways for it, and I lived
upside down and inside out for it. I tell you I would
have done anything just to get money, and when I
paid the men for their labour I grudged them every
penny that they took from me.
"It did seem to me that in taking my metal they were
surely and openly robbing me and laughing at me as
they did it. I saw no reason why they shouldn't have
worked for me for nothing, and if they had I would
have grudged them the food they ate and the time they
lost in sleeping, and that's another queer thing, mind
" If one of them men," said Patsy solemnly, "had the
spunk of a wandering goat or a mangy dog he'd have
taken a graipe to yourself, mister, and he'd have picked your
soul out of your body and slung it on a dung-heap."
" Don't be thinking," replied the other, "that men are
courageous and fiery animals, for they're not, and
every person that pays wages to men knows well that
they're as timid as sheep and twice as timid. Let me
tell you too that all the trouble wasn't on their side ; I
had a share of it and a big share."
Mac Cann interrupted solemnly
" That's what the fox told the goose when the goose
said that the teeth hurted him. 'Look at the trouble I
had to catch you,' said the fox."
"We won't mind that," said Billy the Music.
" I was hard put to it to make the money. I was able
to knock a good profit out of the land and the beasts
and the men that worked for me; and then, when I
came to turn the profit into solid pieces, I found that
there was a world outside of my world, and
it was truly bent on robbing me, and, what's more, it
had thought hard for generations about the best way
of doing it. It had made its scheme so carefully that I
was as helpless among them people as the labourers
were with me. Oh ! they got me, and they squeezed
me, and they marched off smiling with the heaviest
part of my gain, and they told me to be a bit more
polite or they'd break me into bits, and I was polite
too. Ah! there's a big world outside the little world,
and maybe there's a bigger world outside that, and
grindstones in it for all the people that are squeezers in
their own place.
" The price I thought fair for the crop was never the
price I got from the jobbers. If I sold a cow or a
horse I never got as much as half of what I reckoned
on. There were rings and cliques in the markets
everywhere, and they knew how to manage me. It
was they who got more than half the money I made,
and they had me gripped so that I couldn't get away.
It was for these people I used to be out of bed at
twelve o'clock at night and up again before the fowl were done snoring,
and it was for them I tore the bowels out of my land,
and hazed and bedevilled every man and woman and
dog that came in sight of me, and when I thought of
these market-men with their red jowls and their 'take
it or leave it' I used to get so full of rage that I could
" I had to take it because I couldn't afford to leave it,
and then I'd go home again trying to cut it finer, trying
to skin an extra chance profit off the land and
workers, and I do wonder now that the men didn't try
to kill me or didn't commit suicide. Aye, I wonder that
I didn't commit suicide myself by dint of the rage and
greed and weariness that was my share of life day and
" I got the money anyhow, and, sure enough, the
people must have thought I was the devil's self ; but it
was little I cared what they thought, for the pieces
were beginning to mount up in the box, and one fine
day the box got so full that not another penny-piece could
have been squeezed sideways into it, so I had to
make a new box, and it wasn't so long until I made a
third box and a fourth one, and I could see the time
coming when I would be able to stand in with the
marketmen, and get a good grip on whatever might be
" How much did you rob in all ? " said Patsy.
" I had all of two thousand pounds."
"That's a lot of money, I'm thinking."
" It is so, and it took a lot of getting, and there was
twenty damns went into the box with every one of the
" A damn isn't worth a shilling," said Patsy. "You can
have them from me at two for a ha'penny, and there's
lots of people would give them to yourself for nothing,
you rotten old robber of the world! And if I had the
lump of twist back that I gave you a couple of minutes
ago I'd put it in my pocket, so I would, and I'd sit on
"Don't forget that you're talking about old things," said
Billy the Music.
"If I was one of your men," shouted Patsy, "you
wouldn't have treated me that
Billy the Music smiled happily at him.
" Wouldn't I? " said he, with his head on one side.
"You would not," said Patsy, "for I'd have broken
your skull with a spade."
"If you had been one of my men," the other replied
mildly, " you'd have been as tame as a little kitten;
you'd have crawled round me with your hat in your
hand and your eyes turned up like a dying duck's, and
you'd have said, 'Yes, sir,' and 'No, sir,' like the other
men that I welted the stuffing out of with my two fists,
and broke the spirits of with labour and hunger. Don't
be talking now, for you're an ignorant man in these
things, although you did manage to steal a clocking
hen off me the day I was busy."
" And a pair of good boots," said Patsy triumphantly.
"Do you want to hear the rest of the story? "
"I do so," said Patsy ; "and I take back what I said
about the tobacco; here's another bit of it for your
"Thank you kindly," replied Billy.
He shook the ashes from his pipe, filled it, and
continued his tale.
" On the head of all these things a wonderful thing
happened to me."
" That's the way to start," said Patsy approvingly. "
You're a good story-teller, mister."
"It isn't so much that," replied Billy,
but it's a good story and a wonderful story."
"The potatoes are nearly done, Mary, a grah?"
"They'll be done in a short while."
"Hold your story for a few minutes until we eat the
potatoes and a few collops of the rabbits, for I tell
you that I'm drooping with the hunger."
" I didn't eat anything myself," replied Billy, "since the middle of yesterday, and the food
there has a smell to it that's making me mad."
" It's not quite done yet," said Mary.
" It's done enough," replied her father. "Aren't you
particular this day! Pull them over here and share
them round, and don't be having the men dying on
Mary did so, and for five minutes there was no sound
except that of moving jaws, and by that time there
was no more food in sight.
" Ah!" said Patsy with a great sigh.
"Aye, indeed!" said Billy the Music with another sigh.
" Put on more of the potatoes now," Patsy
commanded his daughter, "and be cooking them
against the time this story will be finished."
"I wish I had twice as much as I had," said Art.
You got twice as much as me," cried Patsy angrily,
"for I saw the girl giving it to you."
"I'm not complaining," replied Art; "I'm only stating a
"That's all right," said Patsy.
The pipes were lit, and all eyes turned to Billy the
Music. Patsy leaned back on his elbow, and blew his
" Now we'll have the rest of the story," said he.
"THIS," continued Billy the Music, "is the wonderful
thing that happened to me.
"Bit by bit I got fonder of the money. The more I got
of it the more I wanted. I used to go away by myself
to look at it and handle it and count it. I didn't store it
all in the house; I only kept enough there to make the
people think it was all there, and as every one was
watching that and watching each other (for they all
wanted to steal it) it was safe enough.
"They didn't know it was mostly copper was in that
box, but copper it was, and some silver that I couldn't
fit into the other boxes.
"There was a place at the end of the big barn, just
underneath the dog's kennel- maybe you remember my
dog, Patsy? "
"A big black-and-white snarly devil of a bull-terrier?"
said Patsy, thoughtfully.
"I remember him well," said Patsy. " I fed him once."
"You poisoned him," said Billy the Music quickly.
"That's a hard word to say," replied Patsy, scraping at
Billy the Music looked very fixedly at him, and he also
scraped meditatively at his bristles.
"It doesn't matter now," said he. "That was the dog. I
made a place under his kennel. It was well made. If
you had pulled the kennel aside you'd have seen
nothing but the floor. Down there I kept the three
boxes of gold, and while I'd be looking at them the
dog would be lurching around wondering why he
wasn't allowed to eat people - I was a bit timid with
that dog myself - and it was one day while I was
handling the money that the thing happened.
"There came a thump on the barn door. The dog
made a noise away down in the heel of his throat and loped across; he stuck his nose
against the crack at the bottom and began to sniff and
"'Strangers there,' said I. I put the money away
quietly, lifted the kennel back to its place, and went
over to open the door.
" There were two men standing outside, and the dog
sprang for one of them as if he had been shot out of a
" But that man was quick. He took the beast on the
jump, caught him by the chaps, and slung him with a
heave of his arm. I don't know where he slung him to;
I never saw the dog alive after that, and I did think it
was that jerk killed him."
"Begor!" said Patsy.
" It must have been within half an hour or so that you
gave him the poisoned meat, Patsy."
"It was a lengthy mutton bone," murmured Mac Cann.
"Whatever it was!" said Billy the Music.
"The men walked in, they shut the barn door behind
them and locked it, for the key was inside whenever I
" Well! I always had the use of my hands and my feet
and my teeth, but I had no chance there, so in a few
minutes I sat down on the kennel to get my breath
back and to mop up the blood that was teeming out of
my nose. The two men, I will say, were very quiet
with it all - they waited for me.
" One of them was a middle-sized block of a man, and
he looked as if his head had been rolled in tar - "
"Eh!" said Patsy loudly.
" The other one was a big, young man with a girl's
face; he had blue eyes and curls of gold, and he was
wearing a woman's skirt - the raggedest old - "
"Begor!" cried Patsy, and he leaped furiously to his
" What's wrong with you ? " said Billy the Music.
Patsy beat his fists together.
"I've been looking for that pair of playboys for a full
year," he barked.
" Do you know them? " said Billy the Music, with
"I don't know them, but I met them, and the girl
yonder met them too, the thieves! "
" They are a pair of dirty dogs," said Mary coldly.
"And when I do meet them," said Patsy savagely, "I'll
kill the pair of them: I will so."
Billy the Music laughed.
"I wouldn't try killing them lads; I did try it once, but
they wouldn't let me. Tell us what they did to yourself
and then I'll go on with my story, for I'm real
curious about those two."
Mac Cann put his pipe into his pocket.
"There isn't very much to tell, but this is how it
"About two weeks before your dog died myself and
the girl were tramping up towards Dublin. We hadn't
got the ass with us that time, for it was in pawn to a
woman that peddled fish in the south-west of
Connemara. She was keeping the ass and cart for us
while we were away, and she was going to give us
something for their loan at the heel of the season. She
was an old rip, that one, for she sold the ass on us to
one man and she sold the cart to another man, and
we had the trouble of the world getting the pair of
them together again - but that's no matter.
"One morning, fresh and early, we were beating
along a road that comes down from
the mountains and runs away into Donnybrook. I had
just picked up a little goose that I found walking along
with its nose up, and I thought maybe we could sell
the creature to some person in the city who wanted a
" We turned a bend in the road (it's a twisty district),
and there I saw two men sitting on the grass on each
side of the path. The two men were sitting with the full
width of the road between them, and they were clean,
stark, stone naked.
" They hadn't got as much as a shirt; they hadn't a hat;
they hadn't got anything at all on them barring their
"'Whoo!' said I to myself, and I caught a grip of the
girl. 'We'll be taking another road,' said I, and round
we sailed with the goose and all.
" But the two men came after us, and what with the
goose and the girl, they caught up on us too.
"One of them was a bullet-headed thief and he did
look as if he had been rolled in
tar, and I hope he was. The other was a dandy lad
that never got his hair cut since he was a mother's boy.
`Be off with the pair of you,' said I, 'ye indecent devils.
What do ye want with honest folk and you in your pelt?'
" The bullet-headed one was bouncing round me like a
"'Take off your clothes, mister,' said he.
'What!' said I.
'Take off your clothes quick,' said he, or I'll kill you.'
"So, with that I jumped into the middle of the road,
and I up with the goose, and I hit that chap such a
welt on the head that the goose bursted. Then the lad
was into me and we went round the road like thunder
and lightning till the other fellow joined in, and then
Mary welted into the lot of us with a stick that she
had, but they didn't mind her any more than a fly.
Before you could whistle, mister, they had me stripped
to the buff, and before you could whistle again
they had the girl stripped, and the pair of them were
going down the road as hard as ever they could pelt
with our clothes under their oxters. "
"Begor!" said Billy the Music.
"I tell you so," grinned Patsy.
"There was herself and myself standing in the middle of
the road with nothing to cover our nakedness but a
bursted goose. "
" That was the queer sight," said Billy the Music
looking thoughtfully at Mary.
" You keep your eyes to yourself, mister," said Mary
"What did you do then?" said Billy.
" We sat down on the side of the road for a long time
until we heard footsteps and then we hid ourselves.
" I peeped over the hedge and there was a man coming along the path. He was a
nice-looking man with a black bag in his hand and
he was walking fast. When he came exactly opposite
me I jumped the hedge and I took the clothes off him.
Billy the Music slapped his palm on his knee.
"You did so!"
"I did so," said Patsy.
"He was grumbling all the time, but as soon as I let
him loose he started to run, and that was the last I
saw of him.
" After a bit a woman came along the road, and Mary
took the clothes off her. She was a quiet, poor soul,
and she didn't say a word to either of us. We left her
the goose and the man's black bag for payment, and
then the pair of us started off, and we didn't stop
running till we came to the County Kerry.
"These are the clothes I'm telling you about," said
Patsy; "I have them on me this minute."
" It's a great story," said Billy the Music.
"I can tell you something further about these people,"
said Caeltia smiling.
"Can you so?" cried Patsy.
" I can, but the man here hasn't finished what he was
"I was forgetting him," said Mac Cann.
Put another pinch in your pipe, mister, and tell us
what happened to you after that."
BILLY the Music did put another pinch of tobacco into
his pipe, and after drawing on it meditatively for a few
minutes he snuffed it out with his thumb and put it into
his pocket. Naturally he put it in upside down, so that
the tobacco might drop from the pipe, for he was no
longer a saving man.
" They were surely the two men that I'm telling you
about," said he, " and there they were standing up in
front of me while I was sneezing the blood out of my
"'What do you want?' said I to themselves, and all
the time I was peeping here and there to see if there
wasn't a bit of a stick or a crowbar maybe lying
"It was the boyo in the skirt that answered me:
"' I wanted to have a look at yourself,' said he.
'Take your eye-full and go away, for God's sake,'
"'You dirty thief !' said he to me.
`What's that for?' said I.
"'What do you mean by getting me thrown out of
heaven?' said he.
"Well, mister honey, that was a question to worry
any man, and it worried me. I couldn't think what to
say to him. 'Begor !' said I, and I sneezed out some
more of my blood.
"But the lad was stamping mad.
"'If I could blot you from the light of life without doing
any hurt to myself, I'd smash you this mortal minute,'
"' For the love of heaven,' said I, 'tell me what I did to
yourself, for I never did see you before this day, and I
wish I didn't see you now.'
" The bullet-headed man was standing by all the time,
and he chewing tobacco.
'Have it out with him, Cuchulain,' said he. 'Kill him,'
said he, 'and send him out among the spooks.'
"But the other man calmed down a bit, and he came
over to me wagging the girl's skirts.
"'Listen!' said he, 'I'm the Seraph Cuchulain.'
`Very good,' said I.
"'I'm your Guardian Angel,' said he.
`Very good,' said I.
"'I'm your Higher Self,' said he, 'and every rotten
business you do down here does be vibrating against
me up there. You never did anything in your life that
wasn't rotten. You're a miser and a thief, and you got
me thrown out of heaven because of the way you
loved money. You seduced me when I wasn't looking.
You made a thief of me in a place where it's no fun to
be a robber, and here I am wandering the dirty world
on the head of your unrighteous ways. Repent, you
beast,' said he, and he landed me a clout on the side
of the head that rolled me from one end of the barn to
"' Give him another one,' said the bullet
headed man, and he chewing strongly on his plug.
`What have you got to do with it?' said I to him.
'You're not my Guardian Angel, God help me!'
`How dare you,' said the bullet-headed man. 'How
dare you set this honest party stealing the last
threepenny bit of a poor man?' and with that he made
a clout at me.
`What threepenny bit are you talking about?' said I.
"'My own threepenny bit,' said he. 'The only one I
had. The one I dropped outside the gates of hell.'
"Well, that beat me! 'I don't care what you say any
longer,' said I, 'you can talk till you're blue and I won't
care what you say,' and down I sat on the kennel and
shed my blood.
"' You must repent of your own free will,' said
Cuchulain, marching to the door.
"And you'd better hurry up, too,' said the other
fellow,'or I'll hammer the head off you.'
" The queer thing is that I believed every
word the man said. I didn't know what he was talking
about, but I did know that he was talking about
something that was real although it was beyond me.
And there was the way he said it too, for he spoke
like a bishop, with fine, shouting words that I can't
remember now, and the months gone past. I took him
at his word anyhow, and on the minute I began to feel
a different creature, for, mind you, a man can no more
go against his Guardian Angel than he can climb a tree
" As they were going out of the barn Cuchulain turned
"'I'll help you to repent,' said he, 'for I want to get
back again, and this is the way I'll help you. I'll give
you money, and I'll give you piles of it.'
"The two of them went off then, and I didn't venture
out of the barn for half an hour.
" I went into the barn next day, and what do you think
I saw? "
" The floor was covered with gold pieces," said Patsy.
"That's what I saw. I gathered them up and hid them
under the kennel. There wasn't room for the lot of
them, so I rolled the rest in a bit of a sack and
covered them up with cabbages.
"The next day I went in and the floor was covered
with gold pieces, and I swept them up and hid them
under the cabbages too. The day after that and the
next day and the day after that again it was the same
story. I didn't know where to put the money. I had to
leave it lying on the floor, and I hadn't as much as a
dog to guard it from the robbers."
"You had not," said Patsy, "and that's the truth."
"I locked the barn; then I called up all the men; I paid
them their wages, for what did I want with them any
longer and I rolling in gold? I told them to get out of
my sight, and I saw every man of them off
the land. Then I told my wife's brother that I didn't
want him in my house any longer, and I saw him off
the land. Then I argued my son out of the house, and I
told my wife that she could go with him if she wanted
to, and then I went back to the barn.
" But, as I told you a minute ago, I was a changed
man. The gold was mounting up on me, and I didn't
know what to do with it. I could have rolled in it if I
wanted to, and 1 did roll in it, but there was no fun in
" This was the trouble with me - I couldn't count it; it
had gone beyond me; there were piles of it ; there
were stacks of it ; it was four feet deep all over the
floor, and I could no more move it than I could move
" I never wanted that much money, for no man could
want it: I only wanted what I could manage with my
hands; and the fear of robbers was on me to that pitch
that I could neither sit nor stand nor sleep.
" Every time I opened the door the place was fuller
than it was the last time, and, at last, I got to hate the
barn. I just couldn't stand the look of the place, and
the light squipting at me from thousands and
thousands of gold corners.
"It beat me at last. One day I marched into the
house, and I picked up the concertina that my son
bought (I was able to play it well myself) and said I to
`Where are you off?'
"'I'm going into the world.'
"'What will become of the farm?'
"'You can have it yourself,' said I, and with that I
stepped clean out of the house and away to the road.
I didn't stop walking for two days, and I never went
back from that day to this.
" I do play on the concertina before the houses, and
the people give me coppers. I travel from place to
place every day, and I'm as happy as a bird on a
bough, for I've no worries and I worry no one."
"What did become of the money?" said Patsy.
"I'm thinking now that it might have been fairy gold,
and, if it was, nobody could touch it."
" So," said Mac Cann, "that's the sort of boys they
"That's the sort."
" And one of them was your own Guardian Angel!"
"He said that."
"And what was the other one?"
" I don't know, but I do think that he was a spook."
Patsy turned to Finaun:
" Tell me, mister, is that a true story now, or was the
lad making it up ?
" It is true," replied Finaun.
Patsy considered for a moment.
"I wonder," said he musingly, "who is my own
Caeltia hastily put the pipe into his pocket.
"I am," said he.
Mac Cann placed his hands on his knees and laughed
" You are ! and I making you drunk every second
night in the little pubs!"
"You never made me drunk."
"I did not, for you've got a hard head surely, but
there's a pair of us in it, mister."
He was silent again, then:
" I wonder who is the Guardian Angel of Eileen Ni
Cooley? for he has his work cut out for him, I'm
" I am her Guardian Angel," said Finaun.
" Are you telling me that? "
Mac Cann stared at Finaun, and he lapsed again to
"Ah, well!" said he to Billy the Music,
it was a fine story you told us, mister, and queer
deeds you were mixed up in; but I'd like to meet the
men that took our clothes, I would so. "
" I can tell you something more about them," Caeltia
"So you said a while back. What is it you can tell us?"
"I can tell you the beginning of all that tale."
" I'd like to hear it," said Billy the Music.
" There is just a piece I will have to make up from
what I heard since we came here, but the rest I can
answer for because I was there at the time."
" I remember it too," said Art to Caeltia, "and when
you have told your story I'll tell another one."
"Serve out the potatoes, Mary," said Mac Cann, "and
then you can go on with the story. Do you think is that
ass all right, alannah? "
" He's eating the grass still, but I think he may be
wanting a drink."
" He had a good drink yesterday," said her father, and
he shifted to a more comfortable position.
"When Brien O'Brien died people said that it did not
matter very much because he would have died young
in any case. He would have been hanged, or his head
would have been split in two halves with a hatchet, or
he would have tumbled down the cliff when he was
drunk and been smashed into jelly. Something like that
was due to him, and everybody likes to see a
man get what he deserves to get.
"But, as ethical writs cease to run when
a man is dead, the neighbours did not stay away from
his wake. They came, and they said many mitigating
things across the body with the bandaged jaws and
the sly grin and they reminded each other of this and
that queer thing which he had done, for
his memory was crusted over with stories of wild,
laughable things, and other things which were wild but
" Meanwhile he was dead, and one was at liberty to
be a trifle sorry for him. Further, he belonged to the
O'Brien nation - a stock to whom reverence was due.
A stock not easily forgotten. The historic memory
could reconstruct forgotten glories of station and
battle, of terrible villainy and terrible saintliness, the
pitiful, valorous, slow descent to the degradation
which was not yet wholly victorious. A great stock!
The O'Neills remembered it. The O'Tools and the
Mac Sweeneys had stories by the hundred of love and
hate. The Burkes and the Geraldines and the new
strangers had memories also.
" His family was left in the poorest way, but they were
used to that, for he had kept them as poor as he left
them, or found them, for that matter. They had shaken
hands with Charity so often that they no longer
disliked the sallow-faced lady, and so certain
small gifts made by the neighbours were accepted,
not very thankfully, but very readily. These gifts were
almost always in kind. A few eggs. A bag of
potatoes. A hancIful of meal. A couple of twists of
tea - such like.
"One of the visitors, however, moved by an
extraordinary dejection, slipped a silver threepenny-
piece into the hand of Brien's little daughter, Sheila,
aged four years, and later on she did not like to ask
for it back again.
" Little Sheila had been well trained by her father. She
knew exactly what should be done with money, and
so, when nobody was looking, she tip-toed to the
coffin and slipped the threepenny-piece into Brien's
hand. That hand had never refused money when it
was alive, it did not reject it either when it was dead.
"They buried him the next day.
" He was called up for judgment the day after, and
made his appearance with a miscellaneous crowd of
wretches, and there he
again received what was due to him. He was
removed, protesting and struggling, to the place
"'Down,' said Rhadamanthus, pointing with his great
hand, and down he went.
" In the struggle he dropped the threepenny-piece,
but he was so bustled and heated that he did not
observe his loss. He went down, far down, out of
sight, out of remembrance, to a howling black gulf
with others of his unseen kind.
"A young seraph, named Cuchulain, chancing to pass
that way shortly afterwards, saw the threepenny-
piece peeping brightly from the rocks, and he picked
"He looked at it in astonishment. He turned it over
and over, this way and that way. Examined it at the
stretch of his arm, and peered minutely at it from two
" 'I have never in my life seen anything so beautifully
wrought,' said he, and, having stowed it in his pouch
along with some
other trinkets, he strolled homewards again through
the massy gates.
"It was not long until Brien discovered his loss, and
suddenly, through the black region, his voice went
mounting and brawling.
"' I have been robbed,' he yelled. 'I have been robbed
" Having begun to yell he did not stop. Sometimes he
was simply angry and made a noise. Sometimes he
became sarcastic and would send his query swirling
"'Who stole the threepenny-bit?' he roared. He
addressed the surrounding black space:
`Who stole the last threepenny-bit of a poor man?'
"Again and again his voice pealed upwards. The pains
of his habitation lost all their sting for him. His mind
had nourishment, and the heat within him vanquished
the fumes without. He had a grievance, a righteous
cause, he was buoyed and
strengthened, nothing could silence him. They tried
ingenious devices, all kinds of complicated things, but
he paid no heed, and the tormentors were in despair.
"'I hate these sinners from the kingdom of Kerry,' said
the Chief Tormentor, and he sat moodily down on his
own circular saw; and that worried him also, for he
was clad only in a loin-cloth.
"' I hate the entire Clann of the Gael,' said he; 'why
cannot they send them somewhere else?' and then he
started practising again on Brien.
" It was no use. Brien's query still blared upwards like
the sound of the great trump itself. It wakened and
rung the rocky caverns, screamed through fissure and
funnel, and was battered and slung from pinnacle to
crag and up again. Worse! his companions in doom
became interested and took up the cry, until at last the
uproar became so appalling that the Master himself
could not stand it.
'I have not had a wink of sleep for three
nights,' said that harassed one, and he sent a special
embassy to the powers.
" Rhadamanthus was astonished when they arrived.
His elbow was leaning on his vast knee, and his
heavy head rested on a hand that was acres long,
`What is all this about?' said he.
"'The Master cannot go to sleep,' said the spokesman
of the embassy, and he grinned as he said it, for it
sounded queer even to himself.
"' It is not necessary that he should sleep,' said
Rhadamanthus. 'I have never slept since time began,
and 1 will never sleep until time is over. But the
complaint is curious. What has troubled your master?'
`Hell is turned upside down and inside out,' said the
fiend. 'The tormentors are weeping like little children.
The principalities are squatting on their hunkers doing
nothing. The orders are running here and there fighting
each other. The styles are leaning against walls
shrugging their shoulders, and the damned are
shouting and laughing and have become callous to torment.'
"'It is not my business,' said the judge.
"'The sinners demand justice,' said the spokesman.
"' They've got it,' said Rhadamanthus, 'let them stew
" 'They refuse to stew,' replied the spokesman,
wringing his hands.
" Rhadamanthus sat up.
"'It is an axiom in law,' said he, 'that however
complicated an event may be, there can never be
more than one person at the extreme bottom of it.
Who is the person ?'
`It is one Brien of the O'Brien nation, late of the
kingdom of Kerry. A bad one! He got the maximum
punishment a week ago.'
" For the first time in his life Rhadamanthus was
disturbed. He scratched his head, and it was the first
time he had ever done that either.
`You say he got the maximum,' said Rhadamanthus,
'then it's a fix! I have damned him for ever, and better or worse than that
cannot be done. It is none of my business,' said he
angrily, and he had the deputation removed by force.
" But that did not ease the trouble. The contagion
spread until ten million billions of voices were chanting
in unison, and uncountable multitudes were listening
between their pangs.
"' Who stole the threepenny-bit? Who stole the
"That was still their cry. Heaven rang with it as well as
hell. Space was filled with that rhythmic tumult. Chaos
and empty Nox had a new discord added to their
elemental throes. Another memorial was drafted
below, showing that unless the missing coin was
restored to its owner hell would have to close its
doors. There was a veiled menace in the memorial
also, for Clause 6 hinted that if hell was allowed to go
by the board heaven might find itself in some jeopardy
" The document was despatched and considered.
In consequence a proclamation was sent
through all the wards of Paradise, calling on whatever
person, archangel, seraph, cherub, or acolyte, had
found a threepenny-piece since mid-day of the tenth
August then instant, that the same person, archangel,
seraph, cherub, or acolyte, should deliver the said
threepenny-piece to Rhadamanthus at his Court, and
should receive in return a free pardon and a receipt.
" The coin was not delivered.
" The young seraph, Cuchulain, walked about like a
person who was strange to himself. He was not
tormented: he was angry. He frowned, he cogitated
and fumed. He drew one golden curl through his
fingers until it was lank and drooping; save the end
only, that was still a ripple of gold. He put the end in
his mouth and strode moodily chewing it. And every
day his feet turned in the same direction - down the
long entrance boulevard, through the mighty gates,
along the strip of carved slabs, to that piled
wilderness where Rhadamanthus sat monumentally.
" Here delicately he went, sometimes with a hand
outstretched to help his foothold, standing for a space
to think ere he jumped to a farther rock, balancing himself for a moment ere
he leaped again. So he would come to stand and stare
gloomily upon the judge.
"He would salute gravely, as was meet, and say, 'God
bless the work'; but Rhadamanthus never replied,
save by a nod, for he was very busy.
" Yet the judge did observe him, and would
sometimes heave ponderous lids to where he stood,
and so, for a few seconds, they regarded each other
in an interval of that unceasing business.
"Sometimes for a minute or two the young seraph
Cuchulain would look from the judge to the judged as
they crouched back or strained forward, the good
and the bad all in the same tremble of fear, all
unknowing which way their doom might lead.
They did not look at each other. They looked at the
judge high on his ebon throne, and they could not
look away from him. There were those who knew,
guessed clearly their doom; abashed and flaccid they
sat, quaking. There were some who were uncertain -
rabbit-eyed these, not less quaking than the others,
biting at their knuckles as they peeped upwards.
There were those hopeful, yet searching fearfully
backwards in the wilderness of memory, chasing and
weighing their sins; and these last, even when their
bliss was sealed and their steps set on an easy path,
went faltering, not daring to look around again, their
ears strained to catch a -'Halt, miscreant! this other is
"So, day by day, he went to stand near the judge; and
one day Rhadamanthus, looking on him more intently,
lifted his great hand and pointed:
"'Go you among those to be judged,' said he.
"For Rhadamanthus knew. It was his
business to look deep into the heart and the mind, to
fish for secrets in the pools of being.
" And the young seraph Cuchulain, still rolling his
golden curl between his lips, went obediently forward
and set down his nodding plumes between two who
whimpered and stared and quaked.
" When his turn came, Rhadamanthus eyed him
intently for a long time:
"'Well!' said Rhadamanthus.
"The young seraph Cuchulain blew the curl of gold
from his lips:
`Findings are keepings,' said he loudly, and he closed
his mouth and stared very impertinently at the judge.
`It is to be given up,' said the judge.
"'Let them come and take it from me,' said the seraph
Cuchulain. And suddenly (for these things are at the
will of spirits) around his head the lightnings span, and
his hands were on the necks of thunders.
"For the second time in his life Rhadamanthus was
disturbed, again he scratched his head:
"'It's a fix,' said he moodily. But in a moment he called
to those whose duty it was:
`Take him to this side,' he roared.
"And they advanced. But the seraph Cuchulain swung
to meet them, and his golden hair blazed and shrieked;
and the thunders rolled at his feet, and about him a
bright network that hissed and stung - and those who
advanced turned haltingly backwards and ran
'It's a fix,' said Rhadamanthus; and for a little time he
stared menacingly at the seraph Cuchulain.
" But only for a little time. Suddenly he put his hands
on the rests of his throne and heaved upwards his
terrific bulk. Never before had Rhadamanthus stood
from his ordained chair. He strode mightily forward
and in an instant had quelled that rebel. The thunders
and lightnings were but moonbeams and dew on that
stony carcass. He seized the seraph Cuchulain, lifted
him to his breast as one lifts a sparrow, and tramped
back with him:
"'Fetch me that other,' said he sternly, and he sat
" Those whose duty it was sped swiftly downwards to
find Brien of the O'Brien nation; and while they were gone, all in vain the
seraph Cuchulain crushed flamy barbs against that
bosom of doom. Now, indeed, his golden locks were
drooping and his plumes were broken and tossed; but
his fierce eye still glared courageously against the
nipple of Rhadamanthus.
" Soon they brought Brien. He was a sight of woe -
howling, naked as a tree in winter, black as a tarred
wall, carved and gashed, tattered in all but his throat,
wherewith, until one's ears rebelled, he bawled his one
" But the sudden light struck him to a wondering
silence, and the sight of the judge holding the seraph
Cuchulain like a limp flower to his breast held him
"Bring him here," said Rhadamanthus.
" And they brought him to the steps of the throne.
"'You have lost a medal!' said Rhadamanthus. 'This
one has it.'
"Brien looked straitly at the seraph Cuchulain.
" Rhadamanthus stood again, whirled his arm in an
enormous arc, jerked, and let go, and the seraph
Cuchulain went swirling through space like a slung
"' Go after him, Kerryman,' said Rhadamanthus,
stooping; and he seized Brien by the leg, whirled him
wide and out and far; dizzy, dizzy as a swooping
comet, and down, and down, and down.
"Rhadamanthus seated himself. He motioned with his
`Next,' said he coldly.
Down went the seraph Cuchulain, swirling in wide
tumbles, scarcely visible for quickness. Sometimes,
with outstretched hands, he was a cross that dropped
plumb. Anon, head urgently downwards, he dived
steeply. Again, like a living hoop, head and heels
together, he spun giddily. Blind, deaf, dumb,
breathless, mindless; and
behind him Brien of the O'Brien nation came pelting
"What of that journey? Who could give it words? Of
the suns that appeared and disappeared like winkling
eyes. Comets that shone for an instant, went black
and vanished. Moons that came, and stood, and were
gone. And around all, including all, boundless space,
boundless silence; the black unmoving void- the deep,
unending quietude, through which they fell with Saturn
and Orion, and mildly-smiling Venus, and the fair,
stark-naked moon, and the decent earth wreathed in
pearl and blue. From afar she appeared, the quiet
one, all lonely in the void. As sudden as a fair face in a
crowded street. Beautiful as the sound of falling
waters. Beautiful as the sound of music in a silence.
Like a white sail on a windy sea. Like a green tree in a
solitary place. Chaste and wonderful she appeared.
Flying afar. Flying aloft like a joyous bird when the
morning breaks on the darkness and he shrills sweet
tidings. She soared and sang. Gently she sang to timid pipes and
flutes of tender straw and murmuring, distant strings.
A song that grew and swelled, gathering to a
multitudinous, deep-thundered harmony, until the
overburdened ear failed before the appalling uproar of
her ecstasy, and denounced her. No longer a star! No
longer a bird! A plumed and homed fury! Gigantic,
gigantic, leaping and shrieking tempestuously, spouting
whirlwinds of lightning, tearing gluttonously along her
path, avid, rampant, howling with rage and terror she
leaped, dreadfully she leaped and flew. . . .
"Enough! They hit the earth- they were not smashed,
there was that virtue in them. They hit the ground just
outside the village of Donnybrook where the back
road runs to the hills; and scarcely had they bumped
twice when Brien of the O'Brien nation had the seraph
Cuchulain by the throat.
"'My threepenny-bit,' he roared, with one fist up.
" But the seraph Cuchulain only laughed. "'That!' said
he. 'Look at me, man. Your little medal dropped far
beyond the rings of Saturn.'
"And Brien stood back looking at him. He was as
naked as Brien was. He was as naked as a stone, or
an eel, or a pot, or a new-born babe. He was very
"So Brien of the O'Brien nation strode across the path
and sat down by the side of a hedge:
"' The first man that passes this way,' said he, 'will give
me his clothes, or I'll strangle him.'
" The seraph Cuchulain walked over to him:
"'I will take the clothes of the second man that
passes,' said he, and he sat down."
"AND then," said Mac Cann thoughtfully,
we came along, and they stole our clothes."
wasn't a bad tale," he continued to Caeltia. " You are
as good a story-teller, mister, as the man himself,"
pointing to Billy the Music.
Billy replied modestly:
"It's because the stories were good ones that they
were well told, for that's not my trade, and what
wonder would it be if I made a botch of it? I'm a
musician myself, as I told you, and there's my
instrument, but I knew an old man in Connaught one
time, and he was a great lad for the stories. He used
to make his money at it, and if that man was to break
off in the middle of a tale the people would stand up
and kill him, they would so. He was a gifted man,
for he would tell you a story about nothing at all,
and you'd listen to him with your mouth open
and you afraid that he would come to the end of it
soon, and maybe it would be nothing more than the
tale of how a white hen laid a brown egg. He would
tell you a thing you knew all your life, and you would
think it was a new thing. There was no old age in that
man's mind, and that's the secret of story-telling."
"I could listen to a story for a day and a night."
Her father nodded acquiescence:
"So could I, if it was a good story and well told, and I
would be ready to listen to another one after that."
He turned to Art:
"You were saying yourself, sonny, that there was a
story in your head, and if that's so, now is your chance
to tell it; but I'm doubting you'll be able to do it as well
as the two men here, for you are a youngster, and
story-telling is an old man's trade."
" I'll do my best," said Art, " but I never
told a story in my life, and it may not be a good one at the
"That's all right," replied Mac Cann encouragingly.
"We won't be hard on you."
" Sure enough," said Billy the Music, "and you've
listened to the lot of us, so you will know the road."
"What are you going to talk about?" said Caeltia.
"I'm going to talk about Brien O'Brien, the same as
the rest of you."
"Did you know him too?" cried Billy.
" There isn't a person doesn't know that man,"
growled Patsy. "Maybe," and he grinned ferociously
as he said it, "maybe we'll meet him on the road and
he tramping, and perhaps he will tell us a story
" That man could not tell a story," Finatin interrupted, "
for he has no memory, and that is a thing a good story-
teller ought to have."
If we meet him," said Mac Cann grimly,
I'll do something to him and he'll remember it, and it's
likely that he will be able to make a story out of it
"I only saw him once," said Art, "but when
Rhadamanthus tossed him through the void I
recognised his face, although so long a time had
elapsed since I did see him.
He is now less than he was, but he is, nevertheless,
much more than I had expected he would be."
" What is he now? " said Billy the Music.
"He is a man."
" We are all that," said Patsy, " and it isn't any trouble
It was more trouble than you imagine," said Finaun.
" I had expected him to be no more than one of the
higher animals, or even that he might have been
dissipated completely from existence."
" What was he at the time you met him?"
"He was a magician, and he was one of the most
powerful magicians that ever lived.
He was a being of the fifth round, and he had
discovered many secrets."
"I have known magicians," commented Finaun, " and I
always found that they were fools."
"Brien O'Brien destroyed himself," Art continued, "he
forfeited his evolution and added treble to his karmic
burden because he had not got a sense of humour."
"No magician has a sense of humour," remarked
Finaun, " he could not be a magician if he had -
Humour is the health of the mind."
" That," Art broke in, " is one of the things he said to
me. So you see he had discovered something. He was
very near to being a wise man. He was certainly a
courageous man, or, perhaps, foolhardy; but he was
as serious as a fog, and he could not bring himself to
"Tell us the story," said Caeltia.
"Here it is," said Art.
"ON a day long ago I laboured with the Army of the
Voice. The first syllable of the great word had been
uttered, and in far eastern space, beyond seven of the
flaming wheels, I and the six sons drew the lives
together and held them for the whirlwind which is the
one. We were waiting for the second syllable to form
" As I stood by my place holding the north in
quietness, I felt a strong vibration between my hands.
Something was interfering with me. I could not let go,
but I looked behind me, and there I saw a man
standing, and he was weaving spells.
"It was a short, dark man with a little bristle of black
whisker on his chin and a stiff bristle of black hair on
his head. He was standing inside a double triangle
having the points upwards, and there were magical
signs at each point of the triangles. While I looked, he
threw around him from side to side a flaming circle,
and then he threw a flaming circle about him from front
to back, and he span these so quickly that he was
surrounded by a wall of fire.
"At him, on the instant, I charged a bolt, but it could
not penetrate his circles; it hit them and fell harmless,
for the circles had a greater speed than my
" He stood so in the triangles, laughing at me and
scratching his chin.
"I dared not loose my hands again lest the labour of a
cycle should be dissipated in an instant, and it was no
use shouting to the others, for they also were holding
the lives in readiness for the whirlwind which would
shape them to a globe, so the man had me at his
" He was working against my grip, and he had
amazing power. He had somehow discovered part of
the first syllable of the great word, and he was intoning
this on me between giggles, but he could not destroy
us, for together we were equal to the number of that
"When I looked at him again he laughed at me, and
what he said astonished me greatly.
"'This,' said he, 'is very funny.'
"I made no reply to him, being intent only on holding
my grip; but I was reassured, for, although he poured
on me incessantly the great sound, its effect was
neutralised, for I am a number, and in totality we were
the numbers; nevertheless the substance did strain and
heave so powerfully that I could do no more than hold
it in place.
"The man spoke to me again. Said he:
`Do you not think that this is very funny ?'
" I made no answer for a time, and then I said:
`Who are you?'
"'A name,' he replied, 'is a power; I won't give you
my name although I would
like to, for this is a great deed and a funny one.'
"'What is your planet?' quoth I.
`I won't tell you that,' he replied; 'you might read my
signs and come after me later on.'
" I could not but admire the immense impertinence of
"' I know your sign,' said I, 'for you have already
made it three times with your hand, and there is only
one planet of these systems which has evolved the fifth
race, so I know your planet. 'Your symbol is the
Mule, and Uriel is your Regent; he will be coming
after you soon, so you had better go away while you
"'If he comes,' said the man, 'I'll put him in a bottle,
and I'll put you in a bottle too. I won't go for another
while, the joke is too good, and this is only the
commencement of it.'
"'You will be caught by the second syllable,' I warned
"'I'll put it in a bottle,' said he grinning
at me. 'No,' he continued, 'I won't be caught, I've
made my calculations, and it's not due yet a while.'
"Again he poured on me the great sound until I
rocked to and fro like a bush in the wind; but he could
not loose my grip, for I was a part of the word.
`Why are you doing this?' I asked him.
'I'll tell you that,' he replied.
'I am two things, and I am great in each of these two
things. I am a great magician, and I am a great
humourist. Now, it is very easy to prove that one is a
magician, for one has only to do things and then
people are astonished; they are filled with fear and
wonder; they fall down and worship and call one god
and master. But it is not so easy to be a humourist,
because in that case it is necessary to make people
laugh. If a man is to be a magician it is necessary, if his
art is to be appreciated, that the people around him
be fools. If a person desires to be a humourist it is
necessary that the people around him shall
be at least as wise as he is, otherwise his humour will
not be comprehended. You see my predicament! and
it is a cruel one, for I cannot forego either of these
ambitions - they are my karma. Laughter is purely an
intellectual quality, and in my planet I have no
intellectual equals: my jokes can only be enjoyed by
myself, and it is of the essence of humour that one
share it, or it turns to ill-health and cynicism and
mental sourness. My humour cannot be shared with
the people of my planet, for they are all half a round
beneath me - they can never see the joke, they only
see consequences, and these blind them to the rich
drollery of any affair, and render me discontented and
angry. My humour is too great for them, for it is not
terrestrial but cosmic ; it can only be appreciated by
the gods, therefore, I have come out here to seek my
peers and to have at least one hearty laugh with them.'
"' One must laugh,' he continued, 'for laughter is the
health of the mind, and I have not laughed for a crore
"Thereupon he took up the syllable and intoned its
flooding sound so that the matter beneath my hands
strained against me almost unbearably.
" I turned my head and stared at the little man as he
laughed happily to himself and scraped his chin.
`You are a fool,' said I to that man.
"The smile vanished from his face and a shade of
dejection took its place.
"' Is it possible, Regent, that you have no sense of
humour!' said he.
"'This,' I replied, 'is not humorous; it is only a practical
joke; it is no more than incipient humour; there is no
joke in it but only mischief, for to interfere with work
is the humour of a babe or a monkey. You are a
thoroughly serious person, and you will not make a
joke in ten eternities; that also is in your karma.'
"At these words his eyes brooded on me darkly, and
an expression of real malignancy came on his face: he
stamped at me from the triangles and hissed with rage.
"'I'll show you something else,' said he, and if it
doesn't make you laugh it will make everybody else
who hears about it laugh for an age.'
" I saw that he was meditating a personal evil to me,
but I was powerless, for I could not let go my grip on
" He lifted his hands against me then, but, at the
moment, there came a sound, so low, so deep, it
could scarcely be heard, and with equal strong
intensity the sound pervaded all the spaces and
brooded in every point and atom with its thrilling
breath -we were about to shape to the whirlwind.
"The man's hands fell, and he stared at me.
"'Oh!' said he, and he said 'Oh' three times in a
" The sound was the beginning of the second syllable.
"'I thought I had time,' he gasped: 'my calculations
"'The joke is against you,' said I to the man.
"'What will I do?' he screamed.
"'Laugh,' I replied, 'laugh at the joke.'
"Already his flying circles had ceased to revolve, and
their broad flame was no more than a blue flicker that
disappeared even as I looked at them. He stood only
in the triangles, and he was open to my vengeance.
His staring, haggard eyes fell on the bolt in my hand.
"'There is no need for that,' said he, and he did speak
with some small dignity, 'I am caught by the sound,
and there is an end to me.' And that was true, so 1 did not loose my bolt.
" Already his triangles were crumbling. He sank on his
haunches, clasped his hands about his legs and bowed
his head on his knees. I could see that he knew all
was lost, and that he was making a last desperate
effort to guard his entity from dissolution, and he
succeeded, for, one instant before the triangles had
disappeared, he had vanished, but he could not
have entirely escaped the sound, that was impossible,
and if he reached his planet it must have been as a life
of the third round instead of the fifth to which he had
attained. He had the entire of his evolution to perform
over again and had, moreover, added weightily to his
"I saw him no more, nor did I hear of him again until
the day when Brien O'Brien was thrown from the
gates, and then I knew that he and O'Brien were the
same being, and that he had really escaped and was a
fourth round life of the lowest globe.
" Perhaps he will be heard of again, for he is an
energetic and restless being to whom an environment
is an enemy and to whom humour is an ambition and a
"That is the end of my story," said Art modestly.
Mac Cann regarded him indulgently from a cloud of
"It wasn't as good as the other ones," he
remarked, "but that's not your fault, and you're young
into the bargain."
"He is not as young as he looks," remarked Finaun.
"A good story has to be about ordinary things,"
continued Patsy, "but there isn't anybody could tell
what your story was about."
Billy the Music here broke in:
"The person I would have liked to hear more of is
Cuchulain, for he is my own guardian angel and it's
him I'm interested in. The next time I meet him I'll ask
He glanced around the circle:
" Is there anybody would like to hear a tune on the
concertina? I have it by my hand here, and the
evening is before us."
"You can play it for us the next time we meet," said
Patsy, "for we are all tired listening to the stories, and
you are tired yourself."
He lifted to his feet then and yawned
heartily with his arms at full stretch and his fists
" We had better be moving," he continued, " for the
evening is coming on and it's twenty miles to the fair."
They harnessed the ass.
"I'm going the opposite way to you," said Billy the
"All right," said Patsy. "God be with you, mister."
" God be with yourselves," replied Billy the Music.
He tramped off then in his own direction, while Mac
Cann and his companions took their road with the ass.
MARY MAC CANN
THE search for work and food led them back, but
by different paths, through Kerry, up into
Connemara, and thence by stony regions to Donegal
again and the rugged hills.
Their days were uneventful but they were peaceful:
their nights were pleasant, and seldom did they lack
for even one meal in the day. When they did so lack
they passed the unwelcome hour in the silence of
those to whom such an hiatus was not singular.
Under Mac Cann's captaincy the tiny band moved
from meal to meal as another army would invest and
sack and depart from the cities on its route.
Sometimes at night a ballad-singer would stray on
their road, an angry man from whom no person had
purchased songs for two days, and in return for
victual this one would entertain them with his lays and recite the
curses he had composed against those who did not
pay the musician.
Sometimes they came on gatherings of tinkers and
pedlars, tramps, and trick-men, and in the midst of
these they would journey towards a fair. Uproarious
nights then! Wild throats yelling at the stars and much
loud trampling on the roads as the women fought and
screeched, and the men howled criticism and
encouragement, and came by mere criticism
themselves to the battle. Paltry onslaughts these, more
of word than of weapon to the fray that left some
blooded noses and swollen lips as the one hour
memorial of their deeds.
And again the peaceful nights, the calm stars, the quiet
moon strewing her path in silver; space for the eye,
the ear, and the soul; the whispering of lovely trees;
the unending rustle of the grass, and the wind that
came and went away and came, chanting its long
rhythms or hushing its chill lullaby by the fields and
On a day when they had finished eating Finaun
beckoned Caeltia and Art aside and they spoke
closely together. Turning to Mac Cann and his
daughter Finaun said:
"We have finished what we came to do, my friends."
Patsy nodded frowningly at him.
" What was it you came to do? "
"I came to give help to the powers," said Finaun
" I didn't see you doing much," replied Patsy.
"And," Finaun continued smilingly, " the time has
come for us to go away."
"You're in a hurry, 1 suppose?"
" We are not in a great hurry, but the time has come
for us to go back."
"Very well!" said Patsy. "We aren't so far from where
we started. If we take one of the turns on the right
here and bear away to the west by Cnuc-Mahon and
Tober-Fola and Rath-Cormac we'll come to the place
where your things are buried,
and then I suppose - we can get there in three days, if
that will do you?"
"That will do," said Finaun.
During the remainder of the day he and his
companions walked together talking among
themselves while Mac Cann and his daughter went
with the ass.
Patsy also was preoccupied all that day and she had
her own thoughts; they scarcely spoke at all and the
ass was bored.
At night they camped under a broken arch, the vestige
of they knew not what crumbled building, and, seated
around the brazier, they sunk to silence, each staring
at the red glow and thinking according to their need,
and it was then that Art, lifting his eyes from the
brazier, looked for the first time at Mary and saw that
she was beautiful.
She had been looking at him - that was now her one
occupation. She existed only in these surreptitious
examinations. She dwelt on him broodingly as a miser
burns on his gold or a mother hovers hungrily upon
her infant, but he had never given her any
heed. Now he was looking at her, and across the
brazier their eyes communed deeply.
There was birth already between them- sex was born,
and something else was shaping feebly to existence.
Love, that protection and cherishing, that total of life,
the shy prince scarcely to be known among the
teeming populations of the world, raised languidly
from enchanted sleep a feeble hand.
What fire did their eyes utter! The quiet night became
soundingly vocal. Winged words were around her
again as in that twilight when her heart loosed its first
trials of song. Though the night was about her black
and calm there was dawn and sunlight in her heart,
and she bathed herself deeply in the flame.
And he! There is no knowing but this, that his eyes
poured soft fire, enveloping, exhaustless. He
surrounded her as with a sea. There she slid and fell
and disappeared, to find herself again, renewed,
reborn, thrilling to the embrace of those waters,
wondrously alive and yet so languid that she could not
move. There she rocked like a boat on the broad
waves and, saving the limitless sea, there was nothing
in sight. Almost he even had disappeared from her
view but not from her sensation : he was an influence
wide as the world, deep and steep and tremendous as
They were alone. The quiet men seated beside them
thinned and faded and disappeared: the night whisked
from knowledge as a mounting plume of smoke that
eddies and is gone: the trees and the hills tripped softly
backwards and drooped away. Now they were in a
world of their own, microscopic, but intense: a sphere
bounded by less than the stretching of their arms: a
circle of such violent movement that it was stationary
as a spinning-top, and her mind whirled to it, and was
still from very activity. She could not think, she could
not try to think, that was her stillness, but she could
feel and that was her movement; she was no longer a
woman but a responsiveness: she was an universal contact thrilling at every
pore and point: she was surrendered and lost and
captured and no longer pertained to herself.
So much can the eye do when the gathered body
peers meaningly through its lens. They existed in each
other: in and through each other : the three feet of
distance was no longer there : it had disappeared, and
they were one being swinging on league long wings
through vast spaces.
When they dropped to sleep it was merely a slipping
backwards, a motion that they did not feel: they were
asleep before they dropped asleep : they were asleep
long before that, drugged and senseless with the
strong potion of the body, stronger than aught in the
world but the sharp essence of the mind that awakens
all things and never permits them to be lulled again.
When morning dawned and the camp awakened there
was some little confusion, for Mac Cann was not in
the place where he had slept and they could not imagine where he had
Mary discussed his disappearance in all kinds of
terms, Caeltia alone, with a downcast air, refusing to
speak of it. They waited during hours for him, but he
did not return, and at noon they decided to wait no
longer but to go on their journey leaving him to catch
on them if he was behind or hoping to gain on him if he
was in advance, for their route was marked.
The angels did seem a trifle lost in his absence, and
they looked with some dubiety at Mary when she
took charge of their journey and of the daily provision
of their food.
Food had to be gotten, and she had to discover it not
alone for herself but for those other mouths. It was the
first time she had been alone and, although her brows
and lips were steady, her heart beat terror through her
For she had to do two things which she had never
done and had never surmised
really had to be done. She had to think, and she had
to follow her thought by doing the thing she thought of.
Which of these two were the more terrible she did not
know, but there was no difficulty as to which she must
do first, the simple orderliness of logic clamoured that
she must think before she could do anything, and, so,
her brain set to the painful weaving of webs too flimsy
at first for any usage ; but on this day she discovered
where her head lay and how to use it without any
assistance. She had memory to work with also, the
recollection of her father's activities, and memory is
knowledge; a well-packed head and energy -that is
the baggage for life, it is the baggage for eternity.
She moved to the head of the ass and pulled his ear to
advance. Caeltia and Finaun trod beside and they
went forward. Behind came Art sniffing with the
hungriest of nostrils on the sunny air, for it was five
hours since they had eaten and more than three hours'
abstinence was painful to him.
SHE did get food. She nourished her three children
sumptuously, but she made them help her to get it.
She looked at Finaun's high nose, his sweeping beard,
his air as of a good child well matured, and she sent it
to the market:
"One must eat," said she.
When they came to a house by the roadside she
ordered Finaun to the door to ask for bread; he got it
too and had eaten but the slowest mouthful when she
seized it from him and stocked it for the common
She charged Caeltia through the open door of a
cottage, and his expedition was famous for eight
She performed feats herself in a fowlhouse and a
cattle-pen, but she did not issue any commands to Art
except at the falling-to, when he obeyed adequately.
She recalled the deeds of her father in many
predicaments, and for the first time she really
understood his ceaseless skill and activity. She found
too that she could recollect his tactics, beside which
her own were but childish blunderings, and, with that
memory she mended her hand, and life became the
orderly progression which everybody expects it to be.
That night by the glow of the brazier she rested a
mind that had never been weary before, and she
craved for the presence of her father that she might
gain from him the praise which her present
companions did not know was due to her.
"Two days more," said her heart, communicating to
her bitterly as they proceeded on the morrow
morning, but she banished the thought and set to her
plots and plans. She banished it, but it clung with her,
vague and weighty as a nightmare, and when she
looked backwards on the road Art's eyes were
looking into hers with a quietness that
almost drove her mad. She could not understand him.
They had never spoken to each other; not once had
they spoken directly since that night when he stepped
into the glow of the brazier. At first she had fled from
him in a faar which was all shyness and wildness, and
so an overlooking habit had been formed between
them which he had never sought to break, and which
she did not know how to put an end to.
"Two days!" said her heart again, pealing it to her
through her webs, and again she exiled her heart, and
could feel its wailing when she could hear it no longer.
They stopped for the mid-day meal; bread and
potatoes and a morsel of cheese; the fare was
plentiful, and from a stream near by good water
washed it down.
The reins of the donkey were thrown across the limb
of a tree, and he had liberty to browse in a circle. He
also had his drink from the running stream, and was
glad of it.
As they sat three people marched the road behind
them; they saw these people, and studied their
A talkative, a disorderly advance it was. An advance
that halted every few paces for parley, and moved on
again like a battle.
Two men and a woman were in that party, and it did
seem that they were fighting every inch of their way.
Certainly, they were laughing also, for a harsh peal
came creaking up the road, and came again. Once the
laugh broke abruptly on its gruff note as though a
hand had pounded into its middle. Then the party
parleyed again and moved again.
What they said could not be distinguished, but the
rumour of their conversation might have been heard
across the world. They bawled and screamed, and
always through the tumult came the gruff hoot of
" Do you know these people?"
" The woman is Eileen Ni Cooley, " replied
Mary, " for I know her walk, but I don't know the
shape of the men."
Caeltia laughed quietly to himself.
"The taller of these men," said he, "is the Seraph
Cuchulain, the other man is that Brien O'Brien we
were telling you of."
Mary's face flamed, but she made no remark.
In a few minutes these people drew near.
Eileen Ni Cooley was dishevelled. Her shawl hung
only from one shoulder and there were holes in it, her
dress was tattered, and a long wisp of red hair
streamed behind her like a flame. Her face was red
also, and her eyes were anxious as they roved from
one to the other.
She came directly to the girl and sat beside her;
young Cuchulain set himself down beside Art, but
Brien O'Brien stood a few paces distant with his fists
thrust in his pockets and he chewing strongly on
tobacco. Every now and then he growled a harsh
creak of a laugh and then covered it ostentatiously
with his hand.
"God be with you, Mary Ni Cahan," said Eileen Ni
Cooley, and she twisted up her flying hair and
arranged her shawl.
" What's wrong with you ? " said Mary.
" Where's your father ? " said Eileen.
" I don't know where he is. When we lifted from
sleep a morning ago he wasn't in his place, and we
haven't seen him since that time."
" What am I going to do at all ? " said Bileen in a low
voice. " These men have me tormented the way I
don't know how to manage."
"What could my father do?" said Mary sternly, "and
you playing tricks on him since the day you were
" That's between myself and him," replied Eileen, "
and it doesn't matter at all. I wanted your father to
beat O'Brien for me, for he won't leave me alone day
or night, and I can't get away from him."
Mary leaned to her whispering:
" My father couldn't beat that man, for I saw the two
of them fighting on the Donnybrook Road, and he had no chance against him."
"He could beat him, indeed," said Eileen indignantly,
"and I'd give him good help myself."
" If my father owes you anything," said Mary, "I'm
ready to pay it for him so let us both rise against the
man, and maybe the pair of us would make him fly."
Eileen stared at her.
" I hit him once," continued Mary, "and I would like
well to hit him again; my people here would keep his
friend from joining against us."
The blue eyes of Eileen Ni Cooley shone with
contentment; she slipped the shawl from her shoulders
and let it drop to the ground:
"We'll do that, Mary," said she, "and let us do it now."
So the women lifted to their feet and they walked
towards Brien O'Brien, and suddenly they leaped on
him like a pair of panthers, and they leaped so
suddenly that he went down against the road with a great bump. But he did
not stay down.
He rose after one dumbfounded moment, and he
played with the pair of them the way a conjurer would
play with two balls, so that the breath went out of
their bodies, and they had to sit down or suffocate.
"That's the kind of man he is," panted Eileen.
" Very well" said Mary fiercely, " we'll try him again in
The camp was in confusion, and from that confusion
Art leaped towards Brien O'Brien, but the Seraph
Cuchulain leaped and outleaped Art, and set himself
bristling by the elbow of his friend; then Caeltia, with
his face shining happily, tip-toed forward and ranged
with Art against these two, but Finaun went quicker
than they all; he leaped between the couples, and
there was not a man of the four dared move against
In a second that storm blew itself out, and they
returned to their seats smiling foolishly.
"Let the women be quiet," said Brien O'Brien harshly.
He also seated himself, with his back touching against
the donkey's legs.
The ass had finished eating and drinking, and was
now searching the horizon with the intent-eye of one
who does not see anything, but only looks on the
world without in order to focus steadily the world
Brien O'Brien stared with a new interest at Finaun,
and revolved his quid. Said he to Cuchulain:
"Would the old lad be able to treat us the way
Rhadamanthus did, do you think ? "
"He could do that," laughed Cuchulain,
and he could do it easily."
O'Brien moved the quid to the other side of his jaw.
" If he slung us out of this place we wouldn't know
where we might land," said he.
" That is so," replied Cuchulain, thrusting a sleek curl
between his teeth. "I don't know these regions, and I
don't know where we might land, or if we would ever land. Only for that
I would go against him," and he waggled his finger
comically at Finaun.
Art commenced to snigger and Finaun laughed
heartily, but Caeltia eyed Cuchulain so menacingly that
the seraph kept a quiet regard on him for the rest of
Peace was restored, and while they were revolving
peace and wondering how to express it Patsy Mac
Cann came on them from a side path that ran
narrowly between small hills.
WHEN Mac Cann saw the visitors he halted for an
instant and then came forward very slowly, with his
head on one side and his thumb rasping steadily on his
He was staring at Brien O'Brien, and as he stared he
bristled like a dog.
"It's the man himself," said he, "the man that stole my
O'Brien peeped upwards at him but did not move.
"Sit down and hold your prate," said he, or I'll steal
Mac Cann would have thrown himself on his enemy,
but at that moment he caught sight of Eileen Ni
Cooley and her face drove the other out of his head.
" It's yourself" said he.
"It is me, sure enough, Padraig."
"You'll be going away in a minute, I suppose," said he
He sat on the grass and there was peace once more.
He was sitting beside O'Brien, and the ass was still
thinking deeply with his hocks touching against their
When he seated himself they were all silent, for, in
face of everything, Mac Cann took the lead, and they
waited for him to speak.
O'Brien was looking at him sideways with a grin on
his hard jaw. He creaked out a little laugh and then
covered it up with his hand as one who was abashed,
but Mac Cann paid no attention to him.
His attention was on Eileen Ni Cooley.
"You're a great woman," said he, "and you're full of
" I'm everything you like to call me," replied Eileen.
" Which of the men are you with this time, or are you
travelling with the pair of them ? "
"I don't want either of them, Padraig, but I can't get
away from them anyhow. They won't let me go my
own road, and they're marching at my elbows for two
days, and two nights, cursing and kicking and making
a noise every step of the way."
"They're doing that!" said Patsy.
"They are doing that, Padraig. It's O'Brien is the
worst, for the other fellow is only helping him and
doesn't care for me at all. Catching me they do be,
and holding me.
"Aye!" said Patsy.
"I can't get away from O'Brien," said she, " and I
thought that if I could find yourself-"
"You were looking for me?"
" I was looking for you this time, Padraig."
" Aye! " said Patsy, and he turned a black eye on
Brien O'Brien, and his eye looked like a little, hard
ball of stone.
"You'll be left alone from this day out," said Patsy.
"Mind yourself! " growled Brien O'Brien. " Mind
yourself, my hardy man, or you'll waken up among the
Patsy held him with that solid eye.
" Spooks! " said he, and suddenly he rolled on top of
Brien O'Brien, his left hand grabbing at the throat, his
right fist jabbing viciously with packed knuckles.
Down went Brien O'Brien's head and up went his
heels; then he gave a mighty wriggle and started to
come up, his hands threshing like the wings of a mill.
As he came up they rolled, and now Mac Cann was
below; but Brien O'Brien's head had disturbed the
donkey, and, without emerging from cogitation, the
ass let his two heels fly at the enemy of thought behind
him; Patsy saw for an instant the white flash of those
little hoofs across his face, but Brien of the O'Brien
Nation took them full on his forehead and his brows
crackled in like the shell of an egg; he relaxed, he
sagged, he drooped and huddled limply to Patsy's
bosom, and for three seconds Mac Cann lay quietly beneath him, captured
The donkey had again related the infinity without to
the eternity within, and his little hoofs were as peaceful
as his mild eye.
Mac Cann tugged himself from beneath that weighty
carcass and came to his feet.
Mary and Eileen were both sitting rigid, with arms at
full stretch and their fingers tipping straitly on the
ground, while their round eyes were wide in an
Caeltia was on his feet and was crouching at an
equally crouching Cuchulain. Patsy saw the curl
jerking as the lips of the seraph laughed.
Art was frozen on one knee in the mid-act of rising,
and Finaun was combing his beard while he looked
fixedly at Eileen Ni Cooley.
Twenty seconds only had elasped since Mac Cann
rolled sideways on Brien O'Brien.
The seraph Cuchulain was staring under
Caeltia's arm. He blew the golden curl from his lips
and sounded a laugh that was like the ringing of silver
"What will Rhadamanthus say this time?" quoth he,
and with that he turned and tripped happily down the
road and away.
Mac Cann regarded the corpse.
"We had better bury the man," said he gloomily.
He took a short spade from the cart, and with it he
made a hole in the roadside.
They laid Brien O'Brien in that hole.
"Wait for a minute," said Mac Cann.
"It's not decent to send him off that way."
He pushed a hand into his pocket and pulled it out
again with money in it.
"He should have something with himself and he taking
the long journey."
He lifted O'Brien's clenched fist, forced it open, and
put a silver threepennypiece into it; then he tightened
the pale hand again and folded it with the other on his breast.
They wrapped a newspaper about his face, and they
threw the clay over Brien of the O'Brien Nation,
and stamped it down well with their feet, and as they
left him the twilight stole over the land, and a broad
star looked peacefully down through the grey
THEY walked through the evening.
Dusk had fallen and in the drowsy halflights the world
stretched itself in peacefulness.
They had come to a flat country that whispered in
grass; there were no more of the little hills that roll
and fall and roll; there were scarcely any trees; here
and there in great space a beech swung its slow
boughs and made a quiet noise in the stillness; here
and there a stiff tree lifted its lonely greenness, and
around it the vast horizon stretched away and away
There was silence here, there was deep silence, and
over all the dusk drowsed and folded and increased.
With what slow veils the darkness deepened! the
gentle weaver spun her thin webs and drooped soft coverings from the sky to
the clay ; momently the stars came flashing their tiny
signals, gathering their bright hosts by lonely clusters,
and one thin sickle of the moon grew from a cloud
and stood distantly as a sign of gold.
But the quiet beauty of the heavens and the quiet
falling to sleep of the earth had for this night no effect
on one of our travellers.
Mac Cann was ill at ease. He was moody and
irritable, and he moved from Eileen Ni Cooley to his
daughter and back again to Eileen Ni Cooley and
could not content himself with either of them.
The angels were treading at the rear of the cart talking
among themselves; the slow drone of their voices
drifted up the road, and from this murmuring the
words God and Beauty and Love would detach
themselves and sing recurringly on the air like
Eileen Ni Cooley trod on the left side of
the ass. She trod like a featureless shade; her shawl
wrapped blottingly about her face and her mind
moving within herself and for herself.
Mac Cann and his daughter went together by the right
side of the donkey, and, as he looked constantly at his
daughter, his eyes were furtive and cunning.
He tapped her elbow.
" Mary, " he whispered, " I want to talk to you."
She replied in a voice that was low from his contact.
"I want to talk to yourself," said she.
"What do you want to say?"
" I want to know where you got the money that I saw
in your hand when you buried the man? "
"That's what I'm going to tell you about," he
whispered. " Be listening to me now and don't make
any noise. "
"I'm listening to you," said Mary.
"What have we got to do with these lads behind us?"
said Patsy urgently. "They are nothing to us at all, and I'm tired of them."
"There's a thing to say!" quoth she.
"This is what we'll do. To-night we won't unyoke the
ass, and when they are well asleep we'll walk quietly
off with ourselves and leave them there. Eileen Ni
Cooley will come with us and in the morning we'll be
"I won't do that," said Mary.
He darted at her a sparkle of rage.
" You'll do what I say, you strap, or it'll be the worse
for you!" said his violent whisper.
"I won't do that," she hissed, "and I tell you I won't."
"By the living jingo...!" said Patsy.
She came at him whispering with equal fierceness.
" What have you done on the men?" said she. " What
did you do on them that you want to run away from
them in the night? "
"Keep your tongue in your teeth, you- !"
"Where were you for a day and a half? Where did
you get the money from that I saw in your hand when
you buried the man? "
Patsy composed himself with difficulty; he licked his
"There's no fooling you, alannah, and I'll tell you the
He glanced cautiously to where the others were
coming deep in talk.
" This is what I did. I went to that place by Ard-
Martin where we buried the things, and I dug them
"Oh!" said Mary.
" I dug them up, and I took them away, and I sold
them to a man for money."
"Oh!" said Mary.
"They're sold, do you hear? And there's no going
back on it; so do what I tell you about the ass this
night and we'll take our own road from now on."
"I won't do it," whispered Mary, and she was almost
speechless with rage.
Mac Cann thrust his face close to hers grinning like a
"You won't do it!" said he. "What will you do then
against your father?"
"I'll go on to the place with the men," she stammered.
"You'll come with me this night."
"I'll not go," said she harshly.
"You'll come with me this night," said he.
"I'll not go," she screamed at him.
At the sound of her scream everybody came running
"Is there anything wrong?" said Art.
" She's only laughing at a joke I told her," said Patsy.
" Make that ass go on, Mary a grah, for it's walking
as if it was going asleep."
Caeltia was looking at Mac Cann so fixedly, with
such a severe gravity of eye, that the blood of the man
turned to water and he could scarcely hold himself
upright. For the first time in his life Mac Cann knew
what fear was.
"To-morrow," said Caeltia, "we will be going away
from you, let us be peaceful then for our last night
"Aye," said Patsy, "let us be comfortable for this night
of all nights."
He turned away, and with a great effort at
carelessness he moved to the donkey's head.
"Come on, Mary," said he.
Eileen Ni Cooley trod beside him for a moment.
"What's wrong with you, Padraig?" said she.
" Nothing at all, Eileen, just leave me alone for a
minute for I want to talk to the girl."
"You can count on me for anything, Padraig."
" I don't know whether I can or not," he muttered
savagely. "Keep quiet for ten minutes, in the name of
For a few dull seconds they paced in quiet. Patsy
moistened his lips with his tongue.
"What are you going to do, Mary?"
"I don't know," she replied. "What man did you sell
the things to?"
" I sold them to a man that lives near by- a rich man in
a big house."
" There's only one big house about here."
"That's the house."
She was silent.
" If you're going to tell the men," said her father, " give
me two hours' law this night until I get away, and then
you can tell them and be damned to you."
"Listen to me!" said the girl.
" There is only one thing to be done, and it has got to
be done at once: go you to the place of that rich man
and take the things away from his house and bury
them back again in the place they were buried. If you
want any help I'll go with you myself."
Mac Cann's thumb wandered to his chin and a sound
as of filing was heard while he rubbed it. His voice was quite changed as he
" Begor!" said he.
"You're full of fun," said he, thoughtfully. He covered
his mouth with his hand then and stared thoughtfully
down the road.
"Will you do that?" said Mary.
He thumped a hand heavily on her shoulder.
" I will so, and I do wonder that I didn't think of it
myself , for it's the thing that ought to be done."
And now as they marched the atmosphere had
changed; there was once more peace or the precursor
of it ; from Mac Cann a tempered happiness radiated
as of old : he looked abroad without misgiving and he
looked at his daughter with the cynical kindliness
habitual to him. They trod so for a little time arranging
their thoughts, then :
" We are near enough to that house to be far enough
from it if there's any reason to be far," said Mac Cann, " so this is what I say, let
us stop where we are for the night and in the morning
we'll go on from here."
"Very well," said Mary, "let us stop here. "
Her father drew the ass to the side of the road and
there halted it.
"We'll go to bed now," he shouted to the company,
and they all agreed to that.
"I'm going to unyoke the beast," said Mary with a
steady eye on her father.
He replied heartily.
"Why wouldn't you do that? Let him out to get
something to eat like the rest of us."
" There isn't any water," he complained a minute later.
" What will that animal do? and what will we do
"I have two big bottles of water in the cart," said
"And I have a little bottle in my pocket," said he, "so
we're all right."
The donkey was unyoked, and he went
at once to stand with his feet in the wet grass. He
remained so for a long time without eating, but he did
eat when that idea occurred to him.
The brazier was lit, the sacks strewn on the ground,
and they sat about the fire in their accustomed places
and ate their food. After a smoke and a little
conversation each person stretched backwards,
covering themselves with other sacks, and they went
heartily to sleep.
" We will have to be up early in the morning," was
Patsy's last remark, "for you are in a hurry to get back
your things," and saying so he stretched his length with
When a still hour had drifted by Mary raised
cautiously and tip-toed to her father. As she stood by
him he slid the sacks aside and came to his feet, and
they moved a little way down the road.
"Now," said Mary, "you can do what you said
"I'll do that," said he.
"And get back as quick as you can."
"It's a distance there and back again. I'll be here in the
morning, but I'll be late."
" Bury the things the way
they were before."
"That's all right," and he moved a step backwards.
"Father!" said Mary softly.
He returned to her.
" What more do you want? " said he impatiently.
She put her arms about his neck.
"What the devil are you doing?" said he in
astonishment, and he tried to wriggle loose from her.
But she did not say another word, and after a moment
he put his own arms about her with a grunt and held
"I'm away now," said he, and, moving against the
darkness, he disappeared.
For half a minute the sound of his feet was heard, and
then the darkness covered him.
Mary returned to her place by the brazier. She
stretched close to Eileen Ni Cooley and lay staring at
the moving clouds.
In a few minutes she was asleep, although she had not
felt any heaviness on her eyes.
No one was awake.
In the brazier a faint glow peeped from the white turf ash;
the earth seemed to be holding its breath, so still
it was; the clouds hung immovably each in its place; a
solitary tree near by folded its wide limbs into the
darkness and made no sound.
Nothing stirred in the world but the ass as he lifted his
head slowly and drooped it again ; his feet were
sunken in a plot of grass and he was quiet as the
Then I came softly, and I spoke to the ass in the
" Little ass," quoth I, "how is everything with you? "
"Everything is very well," said the ass.
"Little ass," said I, "tell me what you do be thinking of
when you fix your eye on vacancy and stare there for
a long time?"
"I do be thinking," said the ass, "of my companions,
and sometimes I do be looking at them."
"Who are your companions?"
"Last night I saw the Cyclops striding across a hill;
there were forty of them, and each man was forty feet
high; they had only one eye in their heads and they
looked through that; they looked through it the way a
fire stares through a hole and they could see well."
" How do you know they could see well ? "
"One of them saw me and he called out to
the others; they did not wait, but he waited for a moment ; he
took me in his arms and he stroked my head; then he
put me on the ground and went away, and in ten
strides he crossed over the mountain."
"That was a good sight to see!"
"That was a good sight."
"Tell me something else you saw."
" I saw seven girls in a meadow and they were playing
together; when they were
tired playing they lay on the grass and they went to
sleep; I drew near and stretched beside them on the
grass, and I watched them for a long time; but when
they awakened they disappeared into the air and were
gone like puffs of smoke.
" I saw the fairy host marching through a valley in the
hills; wide, silken banners were flying above their
heads; some had long swords in their hands and some
had musical instruments, and there were others who
carried a golden apple in their hands, and others again
with silver lilies and cups of heavy silver; they were
beautiful and proud and they marched courageously;
they marched past me for three gay hours while I
stood on the slope of a hill.
"I saw three centaurs riding out of a wood; they raced
round and round me shouting and waving their hands;
one of them leaned his elbows on my back, and they
talked of a place in the middle of a forest; they pelted
me with tufts of grass;
then they went by a narrow path into the wood, and
they rode away.
" I saw a herd of wild asses in a plain; men were
creeping around them in the long grass, but the asses
ran suddenly, and they killed the men with their hoofs
and their teeth; I galloped in the middle of them for
half a night, but I remembered Mary Ni Cahan, and
when I remembered her I turned from all my
companions and I galloped home again."
"Those were all good sights to see!"
"They were all good sights."
"Good-bye, little ass," said I.
"Good-bye, you," said he.
He lay along the grass then and he closed his eyes, but
I turned back and crouched by the brazier, watching
the people while they slept, and staring often into the
darkness to see did anything stir before the light came.
MAC CANN strode through the darkness for a little
time, but when he found himself at sufficient distance
from the camp he began to run.
There was not very much time wherein to do all that
he had engaged before the morning dawned, and so
he took to this mode of activity, which was not one
for which he had any reverence. He was a heavy man
and did not run with either grace or ease, but he could
hasten his movements to a jog-trot, and, as his
physical condition was perfect, he could continue such
a trot until hunger brought it to a halt, for he was never
fatigued, being as strong and tireless as a bear.
He was the most simple-minded of men. When he
was engaged in one affair he could not meddle with
anything else, and now
that he was running he could do nothing but run - he
could not think, for instance. When it was necessary
to think he would either walk very slowly or stand
stock still, and then he would think with great speed
and with great simplicity. His head bade his legs be
quiet while it was occupied, and, when they were in
motion, his legs tramped hush to his head, which
obeyed instantly; and he was so well organised on
these lines that there was never any quarrel between
It was, therefore, the emptiest of men that now
pounded the road. He would deal with an emergency
when it was visible, but until then he snapped a finger
and forgot it, for he had learned that the first word of
an emergency is a warning, the second a direction for
escape, its third utterance is in action, and it will only
be waited for by a fool.
Exactly what he would do when he arrived at the
house he did not know, and as yet he made no effort
to deal with that
problem: he obeyed the prime logical necessity, which
was to get there : once there and the second step
would push itself against him, and from that cause the
most orderly of results would ensue. If there was no
trouble he would succeed in his enterprise; if there
was trouble he would fly - that was his simple
And meantime there was nothing in the world but
darkness and the rhythmic tramping of his feet. These,
with a faintly hushing wind, kept his ears occupied. He
had much of the cat's facility for seeing in the dark,
and he had the sense of direction which some birds
have, so he made good progress.
After half an hour's steady movement he came to the
house for which he was seeking, and halted there.
It was a long, low building, standing back from the
road. There was a stone wall around this house, and
the entrance was by an iron gate.
Mac Cann touched the gate, for experience had
taught him that gates are not always locked, but this
one was locked securely. By the gate was a
caretaker's lodge, so he moved quietly from that place
and walked by the wall.
There was glass on the top of the wall which halted
him for a few moments while he sucked his incautious
hand. To cope with this he gathered several large
stones and placed them on top of each other and he
stood on these, then he threw his coat and waistcoat
over the glass and climbed easily across.
He was in a shrubbery. About him
every few paces were short, stiff bushes,
some of which were armed with spines,
which did their duty on his hands and
the legs of his trousers; but he regarded
these with an inattention which must
have disgusted them. He tip-toed among
these guardians and was shortly free of
them and on a gravel pathway. Crossing
this he came on quiet flower-beds, which
he skirted: the house was now visible as a dark mass
distant some hundred yards.
Saving for one window the place was entirely dark,
and it was towards that window he directed his
It's better to look at something than at nothing," quoth
He was again on a gravel path, and the stones tried to
crunch and wriggle under his feet, but he did not allow
that to happen.
He came to the window and, standing well to the side,
He saw a square room furnished as a library. The
entire section of the walls which he could spy was
covered from floor to ceiling with books. There were
volumes of every size, every shape, every colour.
There were long, harrow books that held themselves
like grenadiers at stiff attention. There were short, fat
books that stood solidly like aldermen who were
going to make speeches and were ashamed but not
frightened. There were mediocre books bearing
themselves with the carelessness of folk who are never looked at
and have consequently no shyness. There were
solemn books that seemed to be feeling for their
spectacles; and there were tattered, important books
that had got dirty because they took snuff, and were
tattered because they had been crossed in love and
had never married afterwards. There were prim,
ancient tomes that were certainly ashamed of their
heroines and utterly unable to obtain a divorce from
the hussies; and there were lean, rakish volumes that
leaned carelessly, or perhaps it was with studied
elegance, against their neighbours, murmuring in affected
tones, "All heroines are charming to us."
In the centre of the room was a heavy, black table,
and upon the highly polished surface of this a yellow
light fell from globes on the ceiling.
At this table a man was seated, and he was staring at
his hands. He was a man of about thirty years of age.
A tall, slender man with a lean face, and, to Patsy, he was of
an appalling cleanliness -a cleanliness really to make
one shudder: he was shaved to the last closeness; he
was washed to the ultimate rub; on him both soap and
water had wrought their utmost, and could have no
further ambitions; his wristlets gleamed like snow on a
tree, and his collar rose upon a black coat as the
plumage of a swan emerges spotlessly from water.
His cleanliness was a sight to terrify any tramp, but it
only angered Mac Cann, who was not liable to terror
of anything but hunger.
"I would like to give you a thump on the head, you
dirty dog! " said Patsy, breathing fiercely against the
corner of the window-pane, and his use of the
adjective was singular as showing in what strange
ways extremes can meet.
This was the man to whom he had sold the gear of his
companions: an indelicate business indeed, and one
which the cleanliness of the purchaser assisted him to rectify, and it
was in this room that the barter had been conducted.
By craning his neck a little he could see an oaken
settle, and upon this his sacks were lying with their
mouths open and the gleaming cloths flooding at the
While he stared, the man removed his fingers from his
eyes and put them in his pocket, then he arose very
slowly and paced thoughtfully towards the window.
Mac Cann immediately ducked beneath the window ledge.
He heard the window opened and knew the
man was leaning his elbows on the sill while he stared
into the darkness.
"Begor!" said Patsy to himself, and he flattened his
body against the wall.
After a time, which felt longer than it could have been,
he heard the man moving away, and he then popped
up and again peeped through the window.
The man had opened the door of the room which
faced the window and was standing in the entry. Now his hands were clasped
behind his back, his head was sunken forward, and he
seemed to be looking at his feet, which is the habit of
many men when they think, for when the eyes touch
the feet a circuit is formed and one's entire body is
able to think at ease.
Suddenly the man stepped into a black corridor and
he disappeared. Mac Cann heard about ten steps
ringing from a solid flooring, then he heard a door
open and shut, then he heard nothing but the shifting
and rubbing of his own clothes and the sound his own
nose made when he breathed outwards: there was a
leathern belt about his middle, and from the noise
which it made one would have fancied that it was
woven of thunders -there was a great silence; the
lighted room was both inviting and terrifying, for it was
even more silent than the world outside; the steady
globes stared at the window like the eyes of a mad
fish, and one could imagine that the room had pricked
up invisible ears and was listening towards the window,
and one could imagine also that the room would
squeak and wail if any person were to come through
anywhere but a door and stand in it.
Mac Cann did not imagine any of these things. He
spat on his hands, and in the twinkling of an eye he
was inside the window. In three long and hasty paces
he placed a hand on each of the sacks, and just as he
gripped them he heard a door opening, and he heard
the footsteps ringing again on a solid flooring.
"I'm in," said he, viciously, "and I won't go out."
His eyes blinked around like the flash of lightning but
there was no place to hide. He stepped across the
oaken chest and crouched down. Behind him, from
the floor upwards, were books, in front was the big
chest, and on top of it the two bulging sacks. He was
well screened and he could peep between the sacks.
He stared towards the door.
The clean man came in and stood aside. Following
him came a woman who was, if anything, more
rigorously washed than he was. Somehow, although
she was a tall woman, she seemed as light as a
feather. She was clad in a delicate pink gown of such
gossamer quality that it balanced and swam on the air
with every movement she made. Across her bare
shoulders was a lawn veiling, which also sailed and
billowed as she moved. Her hair seemed to be of the
finest spun gold, light as thistle-down, and it, too,
waved and floated in little strands and ringlets.
These two people sat down at different sides of the
table, and for a time they did not speak to each other.
Then the man raised his head:
"I got a letter from your mother this morning," said he
in a low voice.
The woman answered him in a tone that was equally
"I did not know you corresponded with her."
The man made a slight gesture:
" Nor did I know that your correspondence was as
peculiar as I have found it,"
Said the woman coldly:
"You are opening this subject again."
"I am: I have to: your mother confirms everything that
I have charged you with."
" My mother hates me," said the woman,
"she would confirm anything that was said of me, if it
was bad enough."
"She is your mother."
"Oh no, she is not! When I ceased to be a child she
ceased to be a mother. We are only two women who
are so well acquainted that we can be enemies without
any shame of each other."
"Are you not talking nonsense?"
"I have committed a crime against her. She will never
forgive me for being younger than she is, and for being
pretty in her own fashion. She left my father because
he said I was good-looking."
" All that ... ! " said the man with a movement of his
" As to what she would do against me, you should
know it well enough considering the things she told
you before we were married."
"You admitted that they were not all lies."
"Some of the facts were true, all of the colouring was
false - they are the things a loving mother says about
her daughter ! but that is an old story now, or I had
"One forgets the old story until the new story drags it
to memory," said he.
She also moved her shoulders slightly.
"I begin to find these conversations tiresome."
"I can understand that. . . . With her letter your
mother enclosed some other letters from her friends -
they insist on the facts, and add others."
"Are they letters, or copies of letters?"
"They are copies."
"Of course my mother has forbidden you to disclose
the fact that she forwarded her friends' private
correspondence to you."
"Very naturally; the reason being that she wrote these
letters herself to herself. There are no originals of
"Again you are talking nonsense."
"I know her better than you do, better than she
There was silence between them again for a few
moments, and again it was broken by the man.
"There are some things I cannot do," said he, and
"I cannot search in unclean places for unclean
information," he continued, and again the silence fell
between these two people.
She could bear that silence, but he could not:
"You do not say anything!" said he.
"This seems to be so entirely your business," was her
He moved a hand at that:
"You cannot divorce yourself from me with such ease.
This is our business, and we must settle it between
Her hand was resting on the table, and suddenly he
reached to her and laid his own hand on hers. She did
not withdraw, but the stiffening of her body was more
than withdrawal. He drew his hand away again.
"We are reasonable creatures and must question our
difficulties," said he gently, "we must even help each
other to resolve them."
" These difficulties are not of my making."
" They are, and you are lying to me shamelessly."
Again between these people a silence fell which was
profound but not quiet. That soundlessness was
tingling with sound; there were screams latent in it; it
was atrocious and terrifying. The man's hand was
pressed against his forehead and his eyes were
closed, but what he was
looking at was known only to himself in the silence of
his being. The woman sat upright an arm's-length from
him, and although her eyes were wide and calm, she
also was regarding that which was free within herself,
and very visible to her.
"There are things I cannot do," said the man, emerging
as with an effort from subterranean caves and secret
prospects. He continued speaking, calmly but
" I have striven to make a rule of life for myself and to
follow it, but I have not sought to impose my laws on
any one else - not on you, certainly. Still there are
elementary duties which we owe to one another and
which cannot be renounced by either of us. There is a
personal, I might say, a domestic loyalty expected by
each of us.
"I expect nothing," said she.
"I exact nothing," said the man, "but I expect that -I
expect it as I expect air for my lungs and stability
under my feet. You must not withdraw that from me. You are
not the individual you think ; you are a member of
society, and you live by it; you are a member of my
household, and you live by it."
She turned her face to him but not her eyes.
"I do not ask anything from you," said she, "and I
have accepted as little as was possible." `
He clenched his hand on the table, but when he spoke
his voice was without emphasis:
"That is part of my grievance against you. Life is to
give and take without any weighing of the gifts. You
will do neither, and yet our circumstances are such
that we must accommodate each other whether we
will or not."
"I am an exact man," he continued, "perhaps you find
that trying, but I cannot live in doubt. Whatever
happens to hinder or assist my consciousness must be
known to me. It is a law of my being:
it is my ancestral heritage, and I have no command
I also," said she coldly, " am an heir of the ages, and
must take my bequests whether I like them or not."
" I love you," said the man, " and I have proved it
many times. I am not demonstrative, and I am shy of
this fashion of speech. Perhaps that shyness of speech
is responsible for more than is apparent to either of us
in a world eager for speech and gesture, but I say the
word now in an sincerity, with a gravity, perhaps,
which you find repulsive. Be at least as honest with
me, no matter how cruel you are. I cannot live in the
half knowledge which is jealousy. It tears my heart. It
makes me unfit for thought, for life, for sleep, even for
death. I must know, or I am a madman and no man
any longer, a wild beast that will bite itself in despair
of hurting its enemy."
The woman's tongue slipped over her pale lips in a
quick, red flash.
"Have you anything to say to me?" said he.
There was no reply.
"Are the statements in your mother's letter true? "
"My mother's letter!" said she.
"Have I reason for this jealousy?" he breathed.
Her reply was also but a breathing:
"I will not tell you anything," said she.
Once again the silence drowsed and droned between
the two people, and again they repaired to the secret
places of their souls where energy was sucked from
them until they existed only in a torpor. The woman
rose languidly from her chair, and, after an instant, the
man stood also.
"I will leave here in the morning."
"You will let me see the boy," she murmured.
"If," said he, " I ever learn that you
have spoken to the boy I will kill you, and 1 will kill
The woman went out then, and her feet tapped lightly
along the corridor. The man turned down the lights in
the yellow globes and stepped to the door; his
footsteps also died away in the darkness, but in a
Mac Cann stood up:
"Begor" said he, stretching his cramped knees.
About him was a great darkness and a great silence,
and the air of that room was more unpleasant than any
atmosphere he had ever breathed. But he had the
nerves of a bear and a resolute adherence to his own
business, so the excitement of another person could
only disturb him for a moment. Still, he did not like the
room, and he made all haste to get out of it.
He lifted the sacks, stepped carefully to the window,
and dropped them out. Then he climbed through and
picked them up.
In five minutes he was on the road again. Along it for
some dozen yards he trod like a great cat until he had
left the gate-keeper's lodge well behind him; then,
with the sacks across his shoulders, he shook to the
steady jog-trot which was to last for about three
MARY awakened early.
The morning was grey and the sky flat and. solid,
with here and there thin furrows marking its gathered
She raised her head, and looked towards her father's
place, but he was not there, and the sacks were
crumpled on the ground.
Finaun's great length was lying along the ground, and
he was straight as a rod. Caeltia was curved a little,
and one hand was flung above his head. Art was
rolled up like a ball; his hands were gripped about his
knees, and he had kicked the sacks off his body.
Eileen Ni Cooley had her two arms under her face;
she was lying on her breast, and her hair streamed
sidewards from her head along the dull grass.
As Mary lay back, for it was still too early to rise, a
thought came to her and she rose to her feet again. She thought that perhaps her
father had come softly in the night and moved the ass
and cart away with him, and that thought lifted her
breast in panic.
She ran down the road and saw the cart with its shafts
poked in the air, and further away the donkey was
lying on his side.
She came back on tip-toe smiling happily to herself,
and, with infinite precaution, she restored the sacks to
Art's body and composed herself again to sleep. She
did not raise the camp, for she wished to give her
father all possible time so that he might return
And while she slept the sky unpacked its locked
courses; the great galleons of cloud went sailing to the
west, and thus, fleet by fleet, relieved those crowded
harbours. The black cloud-masses went rolling on the
sky - They grew together, touched and swung apart
and slipped away with heavy haste, as when down
narrow waters an armada weighs, filling listlessly her
noisy sails, while the slender spars are hauled to
the breeze; the watchmen stand at the posts, and the
fenders are still hung from the pitching sides; almost
the vessels touch; the shipmen shout as they bear
heavily on their oaken poles; and then they swing
again, the great prows bear away, the waters boil
between, and the loud farewells sing faintly to the
And now the sky was a bright sea sown with islands;
they shrank and crumbled and drifted away, islands no
more, but a multitude of plumes and flakes and smoky
wreaths hastily scudding, for the sun had lifted his
tranquil eye on the heavens; he stared afar down the
grey spaces, and before his gaze the mists went
huddling and hiding in lovely haste; the dark spaces
became white, the dark blue spaces became light blue,
and earth and sky sparkled and shone in his radiant
The camp awakened before Mary did, and again the
enquiry went as to the whereabouts of her father:
"He will be here shortly," said Mary. "He must have
gone along the road to see if there was anything he
could find for us to eat," and she delayed the
preparation of their breakfast to the last possible moment.
She spilled a pot of boiling water to that end,
and she overturned the brazier when the water boiled
They were about sitting to their food when Mac Cann
came in sight, and she held the meal until his arrival
with his hat far to the back of his head, the happiest of
smiles on his face, and a newspaper bundle in his
Mary gave him a look of quick meaning.
"Were you able to find anything for the breakfast? "
said she, and then she was astonished.
" I was indeed," he replied, and he handed her the
bulky newspaper package.
She used that occasion to whisper to him:
"That's all right," said he, nodding at the bundle, but
really in answer to her query.
She opened the parcel.
There were slices of bacon in it and slices of beef ;
there were ten sausages in it and the biggest half of a
loaf - these, with a small flat bottle full of rum and two
pairs of stockings, made up the parcel.
"Put the sausages in a pan," said Patsy, "and share
them round and we'll eat them."
Mary did put them on the pan, and when they were
cooked she shared them round, and they were fairly
After breakfast the pipes were lit, but they rose almost
immediately to continue the journey.
"This evening," said Finaun, "we will be saying goodbye."
"Aye," said Mac Cann, "I'm sorry you're going, for we
had a good time together."
The ass took his instructions, and they went down the
road. Their places were now as they had always been
- Finaun and Eileen Ni Cooley and Mary Maac Cann
went with the ass, and there was no lack of
conversation in that assembly, for sometimes they
talked to one another and sometimes they talked to
the ass, but the donkey listened no matter who was
being talked to, and not a person objected to him.
Patsy and Caeltia marched sturdily at the tailboard,
and they were close in talk.
Behind them Art was ranging aimlessly, and lilting
snatches of song. He did not know the entire of any
song but he knew verses of many, and he was able to
relate the tunes of these so harmoniously, with such
gradual slipping of theme into theme, that twenty
minutes of his varied lilting could appear like one
consecutive piece of music.
"That lad has a great ear," said Patsy. "He could make
his fortune at the music."
"He is a musician," , Caeltia replied.
"That is his business when we are in our own place,
and, as you can see, it is his pleasure also."
Patsy was in high spirits. Now that he
had successfully undone that which he had done a real
weight had lifted from him. But the thing was still so
near that he could not get easily from it. His head was
full of the adventures of the last few days, and
although he could not speak of them he could touch
them, sound them, lift the lid of his mystery and snap it
to again, chuckling meanwhile to himself that those
who were concerned did not know what he was
talking about, and yet he was talking to himself, or to
one cognisant, in hardy, adequate symbol. A puerile
game for a person whose youth had been left behind
for twenty years, but one which is often played
nevertheless and by the most solemn minds.
It was with an impish carelessness that he addressed
"It won't be long before we are there," said he.
"That is so," was the reply.
"You'll be feeling fine, I'm thinking, when you get your
own clothes on again."
"I have not missed them very much."
" I hope your wings and your grand gear will be all
" Why should you doubt it? " returned the seraph.
"What, " said Patsy, " if they were robbed on you!
You'd be rightly in the cart, mister, if that happened."
Caeltia puffed quietly at his pipe.
"They were robbed," said he.
"Eh!" cried Mac Cann sharply.
The seraph turned to him, his eyes brimming with
"Aye, indeed," said he.
Mac Cann was silent for a few seconds, but he did
not dare to be silent any longer.
"You're full of fun," said he sourly.
"What are you talking about at all? "
" Finaun and I knew all about it," said Caeltia, " and
we were wondering what would be done by the
"What did he do?" said Patsy angrily.
Caeltia returned the pipe to his mouth.
"He put them back," said he.
"Only for that," he continued, " we might have had to
recover them ourselves."
"Would you have been able to get them back?" said
Mac Cann humbly.
"We would have got them back; there is nothing in the
world could stand against us two; there is nothing in
the world could stand against one of us."
Patsy jerked a thumb to where Art was lilting the
open bars of "The Wind that shakes the Barley":
"Wouldn't the boy help?" said he. "How old is the
"I don't know," smiled Caeltia. "He remembers more
than one Day of a Great Breath, but he has no power
for he has never had being, and so did not win to
knowledge; he could give help, for he is very strong."
"Could you have licked Cuchulain that day?" said
"I am older than he," replied Caeltia,
"that is to say I am wiser than he."
"But he was up there with yourself and could learn the
" There is no secrecy in this world or in the others,
and there are no tricks: there is Knowledge, but no
person can learn more than his head is ready to
welcome. That is why robbery is infantile and of no
" It fills the stomach," replied Patsy cunningly.
" The stomach has to be filled," said Caeltia. " Its
filling is a necessity superior to any proprietarial right
or disciplinary ethic, and its problem is difficult only
for children; it is filled by the air and the wind, the rain
and the clay, and the tiny lives that move in the clay.
There is but one property worth stealing; it is never
missed by its owners, although every person who has
that property offers it to all men from his gentle
"You're trying to talk like Finaun," said Patsy
They walked then in silence for ten
minutes. Every vestige of impishness had fled from
Mac Cann; he was a miserable man; his vanity was
hurt and he was frightened, and this extraordinary
combination of moods plunged him to a depression so
profound that he could not climb therefrom without
Said Caeltia to him after a little:
" There is a thing I would like to see done, my friend."
Mac Cann's reply came sagging as he hauled his limp
ideas from those pits.
" What's that, your honour ? "
"I would like to see the money thrown into this ditch
as we go by."
Patsy's depression vanished as at the glare of a torch
and the trumpet of danger. He nosed the air and
sniffed like a horse.
" Begor! " said he. " You're full of -. There's no sense
in that," said he sharply.
"That is what I would like to see, but everybody must
act exactly as they are able to act."
" I tell you there isn't any sense in it;
give me a reasonable thing to do in the name of God
and I'll do it."
"That is the only thing I want done."
" What's the use of making a fool of me?"
" Am I demanding anything? "
When they had walked a few paces:
"What is it, after all!" said Patsy proudly.
He thrust his hands into his pockets and exhibited
them full of gold and silver.
" just a pitch of my hand and it's gone" said he.
"That is all," said Caeltia. "It's easily done."
"So it is," growled Patsy, and he swung his arm.
But he dropped the hand again.
" Wait a minute," and he called Eileen Ni Cooley to
"Walk with ourselves, Eileen, and don't be a stranger.
There's something I want to show you."
He opened his hand before her and it was flooding
and flashing in gold.
She stared with the awe of one who looks on
"There's a great deal of money there," she gasped.
"There's fifteen golden pounds and some shillings in
it," said Patsy, "and here's all I care for them."
He flung his hand then and sped the money at the full
force of his shoulder.
"That's all I care for the stuff," said he, and he gripped
her arm to prevent her bounding to its recovery.
"Come on, woman dear, and leave the ha'pence
"There is something I must throw away also, for I am
getting too fond of it."
"What's that?" said Mac Cann curiously.
"It's this pipe," the seraph replied, and he balanced it
by the mouthpiece.
"Don't throw away the good pipe," cried Eileen Ni
Cooley. "Am I walking beside a pair of wild men this
day ? "
Patsy interrupted also.
" Hold on for a minute. Give me the pipe and you can
take this one." He took Caeltia's silver-mounted briar
and he passed to the seraph his own blackened clay.
" You can throw that one away," said he, and he
popped Caeltia's pipe into his own mouth.
" It will do that way," said Caeltia sadly.
He held the pipe by the stem, and with a sharp
movement snapped it in halves; the head fell to the
ground and a small tight wad of burning tobacco
jumped from it at the shock.
"There it is," said Caeltia.
He jerked the piece of broken stem from his hand,
and after sighing deeply they marched on.
Eileen Ni Cooley was angry.
" Padraig, " said she, " what made you throw all the
golden money away, and the silver money?"
Patsy regarded her with the calm eye of a king.
"Stick your arm through mine, Eileen," said he, " and
let us be comfortable as we go along, for the pair of
us haven't had a talk for a long time, and Caeltia here
wants to talk to you as well as me."
"That is so," said Caeltia.
Eileen did put her arm in his, and as they stepped
briskly forward she stared at him with eyes that were
round with admiration and astonishment.
"Aren't you the queer man, Padraig" said she.
"I suppose," said Patsy, "that you'll be slipping away
from us some time to-night?"
"Not if you want me to stay, Padraig."
They opened a new conversation on that.
THAT day they did not stay their travel, even to eat.
Finaun was urgent, and they ate from their hands as
they marched. The ass moved his slender legs briskly,
the cart rumbled, and the metals in it clashed and
thumped as the wheels jolted on the rutty path.
They met no person as they went.
Prom the fields near by came the fresh
odour of wild grass that out-breathed again
to the sun his living breath ; and the sun
shone, not fiercely, but kindly, tempering
down the oblique ways his potent fire;
above their heads and slanting away on
wide wings the birds were sailing, calling
a note as they went and calling again; here
were trees once more; their grave shadows
slept on the road, stamping the golden light
with a die of ebony, and their grave voices
whispered busily, quietly, like the voices of many
mothers who fold against fruitful breasts the little
children; so they crooned and sang rocking their ample
greenery on the air.
In the afternoon they reached the hill, close to the top
of which the angels' finery was buried.
When they had ascended this hill for nearly an hour the
donkey struck work.
He stood, and nothing would induce him to move
further in that direction. Indeed, he slewed the cart
completely round, and pointed his nose and his shafts
in the direction which he considered reasonable.
"He'll not go up there," said Mary, and she pulled the
long nose to her bosom.
" He will not," said her father. " Will you leave that ass
alone, Mary. Give him back his snout and behave
yourself like a Christian girl."
"You leave me alone," said Mary, "what harm am
doing to yourself?"
" It's that I don't like to see a woman kissing an ass."
" Well, if you don't look at me you won't see
"You're full of fun," said her father sternly.
He shrugged his shoulders and turned to Finaun:
" He did this once before on us and we going up a tall
hill in Connaught, and although I hammered the skin
off his back he wouldn't move a step; he's a great ass,
mind you, mister, and maybe we ought to have looked
for a gentler way up this hill."
Finaun was feeding tufts of grass to the donkey, and
the donkey was eating these with appetite.
"There is no need to come further," said Finaun. " We
are almost in sight of the place and can make our
"Oh! we'll leave the beast," cried Mac Cann, " and
we'll all go up to see the last of you."
" It is better that we should part here,"
said Finaun gently. " We do not wish to be seen at the
" You can have it your own way," said Patsy sulkily.
Finaun stood towering over Mac Cann; he placed his
hands on Patsy's shoulders and solemnly blessed him
in round language, then he kissed him tenderly on
"Begor" said Patsy.
And Finaun did the same for Eileen Ni Cooley and for
Mary, and he kissed the two of them on their cheeks,
then he laid his palm on the donkey's muzzle and
blessed that beast, and he strode mightily up the hill.
Caeltia advanced to Patsy, but Mac Cann was
embarrassed. He had been kissed by a man, so he lit
his pipe in self-defence and kept it in his mouth.
" You're going off ? " said he to Caeltia, and he puffed
like a chimney.
"I'm going off," replied Caeltia in a low voice.
Patsy took the pipe from his mouth and put it into the
"Here," said he, "take a last pull at that and ease your
Caeltia did take it, and he smoked it, and it did ease
"I'll give you the spade out of the cart," continued
Patsy, " for you'll have to dig the things up. There it is,
and it doesn't matter whether it's lost or not."
" It is good-bye now," said Caeltia, shouldering the
spade, and he returned the pipe to Patsy, who put it
instantly in his mouth.
Caeltia held out his hand and Mac Cann put his own
While their hands were together Patsy was seized with
compunction - he drew the seraph aside a few paces:
" Listen! " said he. " I played a trick on you the time I
was taking the money out of my pocket to throw it
" Yes ? " said Caeltia.
"I let one of the gold pieces slip through
my fingers, and it's lying at the bottom of my pocket at
this minute, but I'll throw it away, mister honey, if you
Caeltia looked at him, and a smile of great
contentment crept over his lips.
"If I were you," said he, "I'd keep it."
Mac Cann nodded at him very solemnly:
" I'll keep it," said he earnestly, " and I'll spend it."
Caeltia then said his adieus to the others, and he
tramped up the hill with the spade balanced in his
The piece of gold was burning in Patsy's pocket. He
turned to Art:
"Well, young boy! there's my hand and good luck be
with you; give up racing about and climbing trees and
you'll be all right; you've the makings of a good hand
on you, and that's a great thing, and you've got the
" Good-bye," said Art, and they shook hands.
Eileen Ni Cooley took his hand also, then she and Patsy
strode to the cart, and with the donkey
they moved down the hill.
Mary stood in front of Art, and she did not look at
him; she turned her grave face away, and stared
sidewards where the late sunshine drowsed in gold on
the rough slopes. She put her hand out to him.
He took her hand and held it between his own; he
raised it to his lips and he held it there pressing against
He dropped it, and stood back a pace staring at her;
he struck his hands together in a wild movement; he
turned and ran swiftly after his companions.
These two had never spoken to each other.
Near the top of the hill he came on Finaun and
Caeltia, and the three went together.
In a little they reached the point in the road where they
had slept during their first night on earth, and where
they had eaten their first meal on a sunny morning.
Distant a few paces they saw the tree.
Caeltia dug there until he uncovered the sacks. He
pulled these from the clay and opened them, and each
of the angels retrieved his own belongings from the
Finaun was urgent and thoughtful. He apparelled
himself hastily, while, with less speed, Caeltia also
achieved his change. But Art sat on the ground
fingering his raiment, and seemed to be lost in a
contemplation of the grass beside him.
Finaun was ready. He stood upright, a kingly figure,
shimmering in purple folds. On his head a great crown,
closed at the top; across his shoulder a chain of heavy
gold, and depending on his breast a broad plaque of
gold that blazed.
He looked at the others and nodded, then he leaped,
and at a hundred feet the sun flashed from his wings,
and he looked like a part of the rainbow.
Now Caeltia was ready, standing in cloth of gold and
lovely ornaments of hammered silver. He scanned
once more the drowsing landscape; he smiled on Art; he sprang
aloft and abroad and sped upwards in a blinding
Art raised himself.
He lifted the crimson robe that was dashed with gold,
the crimson buskins feathered at the heel, the wide
crown of short points. He placed these on the ground
and stood for a time looking down the road, while the
many-coloured pinions streamed lengthily from his
Suddenly he frowned, and, with the wings still
dragging, he ran down the path.
In five minutes he came to the place where they had
left the ass, but it was no longer there. Far below on
the curving ways he saw the donkey moving quietly.
Mac Cann and Eileen Ni Cooley were going by each
other's side, and Paisy's arm was about the woman.
He looked around, and at a little distance saw the girl
beside a bush. She was lying on her breast, her face
was hidden into the ground, and she was motionless.
He walked to her.
" Mary, " said he, " I have come to say farewell."
She moved as at a shock. She rose to her feet, and she
did not look at him, and this was the first time that
these two had talked together.
He bent to her beseechingly:
"I have come to say farewell," said he.
Again she put her hand into his:
"Say your say," quoth she, "and go your road, " and
with that she did look at him, sternly.
He loosed her hand; his eyes flamed; he
stamped the road; he swung his arms aloft gripping the
wings, and, with a fierce movement, he ripped them in twain; he put the halves
together and tore again, then, with a sweep of his
hands, fluttered the shining plumes away and on the wind.
"Now!" quoth he, with a laugh.
"Oh!" she stammered, staring, terrified, incredulous.
" Let you and I go down after the people," he said.
But Mary was weeping, and as they paced down the
narrow track he laid a great arm about her shoulder.