Part 7 (2/2)
”Oh, my G.o.d, what's this?” cried the man, s.n.a.t.c.hing up the card.
”Dot? Vy, dat is one card to go mit one cake to the Widow M'Carty.”
”Widdy, widdy, is it?” cried the man, angrily. ”Sure the man that calls her that will answer to me for it. Why would she be a widdy, and me working and saving as a respectable husband should for her?”
”Wait awhile,--tell me,--was you Mr. Widow M'Carty?”
”Who would I be then, but Michael M'Carty? It's some of them blathering Barneys that's after calling me Bridget a widdy. Their lying tongues are all the time wagging with some scandal on a woman that hasn't a good strong man to protect her and the childers. But tell me quick, where are they, and are they alive, all alive?”
”I hear my Katrina speak about dem. But vere haf you been this long time? I t'ought you was drownded, already.”
”Sure, 'twas meself thought so too, the whole of the night, and I wished I'd never stepped me foot on that old tub of a _Go-Between_, for it was the devil's own. When we got in Lake Superior, a storm came after us sudden, and we all went down together. I was in a hole of a place I had to slape in,--sure a dog couldn't close his eye in that corner,--and in the middle of the night, down they came hustling every one of us out. 'Say yer prayers,' says they, 'for we're a-goin' to the bottom, and the Lord help us. There's not one of yez will see yer darlints again.' The water was terrible boisterous, and grabbed everythin' off the decks. Faith, it wouldn't have been so bad if we'd a place left for the sole of our foot, but she was gone entirely. A board hit me and I hung on to it, and Pat Sweeny came up from down in the water and hung on with me, and the noises of that night I'll never be getting out of me head. When it come daylight we see the pilot-house a-floating, and we got on that, and Pat Sweeny waved his red handkerchief, and I tried to push us along with the board, to the land we see a long way off. In the middle of the morning, we spied a little boat coming to us, and may the blessed Virgin spare them two men in it as long as they live. It was a bare enough place we come to, but 'twas the land, and may I be struck dead if ever I take me two feet off it, for it's not the likes of me will set foot on one of them traps of the devil again.”
”Ach, Gott, das war wundervoll, wundervoll,” said the baker, ”but tell me vy you stayed so long away?”
”And what would the likes of me be doing with everything gone, but to be getting some money to come with? There were some copper mines there, and Pat and me went digging in the mines, and the engineer dying sudden-like with a fall down the shaft, it was me was there to be getting his job. I wrote Bridget as soon as ever I thought she would be looking for me coming home, and told her I wouldn't be there till I could earn some money to come by land, and what with the fine engineer wages I was getting, she needn't be expecting me till the end of the season. When I came home with me pile of money to give them all a grand Christmas, I found 'em lost on me, and I've looked every place these three days, and never a sound of them have I heard till now, and G.o.d bless ye for the good words you're giving me this day.--Troth, now that I'm after finding them, I ought to be buying that grand pudding in the windy,” and diving into his pocket, he produced a roll of bills.
”Nein, nein,” said the baker, waving the money away, ”dat pudding was not made to sell, it was made to gif away. You takes dat pudding to Mrs. M'Carty mit the gompliments of Herr Baumgartner.”
With a hearty Merry Christmas, Michael M'Carty hurried away with the pudding in one hand, and the card in the other. Herr Baumgartner, taking his Marzipan, went home to tell Katrina the news, laughing over his Christmas joke, and chuckling to himself:
”Dat is vere dat pudding seems to belong!”
_Tenth Episode_
WIDOW M'CARTY'S ABODE CHRISTMAS DAY
Mrs. M'Carty rose early on Christmas morning, her mind bewildered by the fantastic visions of the night.
”Sure, them puddings was all a dream,” she said to herself, as she kindled her fire, ”and what's the good of such dreams as that, but just to make a body discouraged with the truth of the daytimes? But, any how, I'll look at where I dreamed I put them, and then my mind will be easy for me work.”
More skeptical than hopeful, she went to the place where she had hidden them, and lo! to her great joy there they were,--twelve luscious, fruity puddings.
”And they're just bursting with richness, and begging to be ate,” she said. ”It'll be a grand day for the childer, and they shall have their fill, for it's many a long, hungry day they'll be seeing before another Christmas.”
Breakfast was never a protracted function in the M'Carty household, but to Mrs. M'Carty, who was anxious to begin the festive preparations which the puddings had made possible, the scanty meal seemed unusually prolonged. Nothing but action could keep her from syndicating her secret before the proper moment, so while the repast was in progress, she hurried about doing, undoing, and doing over again, various household tasks. Finally Granny M'Carty, who had noticed Bridget's restlessness, exclaimed:
”Are ye crazy, then, Bridget M'Carty? It's the third time this day ye've spread me bed, and ye'll not lave a whole fither in me pillow with yer senseless beatin's.”
”Well,” said Mrs. M'Carty, ceasing from her labor, ”if you're done with your breakfast, listen to me. Praise to the good Saint Antony, I found a ten-cent piece yesterday, I'd been saving that long I forgot I had it entirely, and with the help of Grandad's two lucky pennies he was never intending to spend,--may the saints spare him long to us,--I've a stick of candy apiece for the whole of you.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'A STICK OF CANDY APIECE'”]
”Hoorooh!” shouted all the little McCartys in chorus.
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