Part 15 (2/2)
”'Jig Polthouge,' Barny: but on your wrist ma bouchal, or Katty will lave us both ut o' sight in no time. Whoo! success! clear the coorse.
Well done, Barny! That's the go.”
When the youngsters had danced for some time, the fathers and mothers of the village were called upon ”to step out.” This was generally the most amusing scene in the dance. No excuse is ever taken on such occasions, for when they refuse, about a dozen young fellows place them, will they will they, upright upon the floor, from whence neither themselves nor their wives are permitted to move until they dance. No sooner do they commence, than, they are mischievously pitted against each other by two sham parties, one encouraging the wife, the other cheering on the good man; whilst the fiddler, falling in with the frolic, plays in his most furious style. The simplicity of character, and, perhaps, the lurking vanity of those who are the b.u.t.ts of the mirth on this occasion, frequently heighten the jest.
”Why, thin, Paddy, is it strivin' to outdo me you are? Faiks, avourneen, you never seen that day, any way,” the old woman would exclaim, exerting all her vigor.
”Didn't I? Sowl, I'll sober you before I lave the flure, for all that,”
her husband would reply.
”An' do you forget,” she would rejoin, ”that the M'Carthy dhrop is in me; ay, an' it's to the good still.”
And the old dame would accompany the boast with a fresh attempt at agility; to which Paddy would respond by ”cutting the buckle,” and snapping his fingers, whilst fifty voices, amidst roars of laughter, were loud in encouraging each.
”Handle your feet, Kitty, darlin'--the mettle's lavin' him!”
”Off wid the brogues, Paddy, or she'll do you. That's it; kick off the other, an' don't spare the flure.”
”A thousand guineas on Katty! M'Carthy agin Gallagher for ever!--whirroo!”
”Blur alive the flure's not benefittin by you, Paddy. Lay on it, man!--That's it!--Bravo!--Whis.h.!.+--Our side agin Europe!”
”Success, Paddy! Why you could dance the Dusty Miller upon a flure paved wid drawn razures, you're so soople.”
”Katty for ever! The blood's in you, Katty; you'll win the day, a _ban choir!_ (* decent woman). More power to you!”
”I'll hould a quart on Paddy. Heel an' toe, Paddy, you sinner!”
”Right an' left, Katty; hould an', his breath's goin'.”
”Right an' wrong, Paddy, you spalpeen. The whiskey's an you, man alive: do it decently, an' don't let me lose the wager.”
In this manner would they incite some old man, and, perhaps, his older wife, to prolonged exertion, and keep them bobbing and jigging about, amidst roars of laughter, until the worthy couple could dance no longer.
During stated periods of the night, those who took the most prominent part in the dance, got a plate and hat, with which they went round the youngsters, to make collections for the fiddler. Barny reserved his best and most sarcastic jokes for these occasions; for so correct was his ear, that he felt little difficulty in detecting those whose contributions to him were such as he did not relish.
The apt.i.tude of the Irish for enjoying humorous images was well displayed by one or two circ.u.mstances which occurred on this night. A few of both s.e.xes, who had come rather late, could get no other seats than the metal pots to which we have alluded. The young women were dressed in white, and their companions, who were also their admirers, exhibited, in proud display, each a bran-new suit, consisting of broadcloth coat, yellow-buff vest, and corduroy small-clothes, with a bunch of broad silk ribbons standing out at each knee. They were the sons and daughters of respectable farmers, but as all distinctions here entirely ceased, they were fain to rest contented with such seats as they could get, which on this occasion consisted of the pots aforesaid.
No sooner, however, had they risen to dance than the house was convulsed with laughter, heightened by the st.u.r.dy vigor with which, unconscious of their appearance, they continued to dance. That part of the white female dresses which had come in contact with the pots, exhibited a circle like the full moon, and was black as pitch. Nor were their partners more lucky: those who sat on the mouths of the pots had the back part of their dresses streaked with dark circles, equally ludicrous. The mad mirth with which they danced, in spite of their grotesque appearance, was irresistible. This, and other incidents quite as pleasant--such as the case of a wag who purposely sank himself into one of the pots, until it stuck to him through half the dance--increased the laughter, and disposed them to peace and cordiality.
No man took a more active part in these frolics than young Frank M'Kenna. It is true, a keen eye might have noticed under his gayety something of a moody and dissatisfied air. As he moved about from time to time, he whispered something to above a dozen persons, who were well known in the country as his intimate companions, young fellows whose disposition and character were notoriously bad. When he communicated the whisper, a nod of a.s.sent was given by his confidants, after which it might be remarked that they moved round to the door with a caution that betrayed a fear of observation, and quietly slunk out of the barn one by one, though Frank himself did not immediately follow them. In about a quarter of an hour afterwards, Rody came in, gave him a signal and sat down. Frank then followed his companions, and after a few minutes Rody also disappeared. This was about ten o'clock, and the dance was proceeding with great gayety and animation.
Frank's dread of openly offending his parents prevented him from a.s.sembling his a.s.sociates in the dwelling-house; the only convenient place of rendezvous, therefore, of which they could avail themselves, was the stable. Here they met, and Frank, after uncorking a bottle of poteen, addressed them to the following effect:
”Boys, there's great excuse for me, in regard of my fight wid Mike Reillaghan; that you'll all allow. Come, boys, your healths! I can tell yez you'll find this good, the divil a doubt of it; be the same token, that I stole it from my father's Christmas dhrink; but no matther for that--I hope we'll never do worse. So, as I was sayin', you must bear me out as well as you can, when I'm brought before the Dilegates to-morrow, for challengin' and strikin' a brother.* But, I think, you'll stand by me, boys?”
* Those connected with illegal combinations are sworn to have no private or personal quarrels, nor to strike nor provoke each other to fight. He and Mike were members of such societies.
”By the tarn-o'-war, Frank, myself will fight to the knees for you.”
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