Part 6 (2/2)

Pettier accordingly furnished them with the liquor, and got a promise that Condy would certainly pay him at ma.s.s on the following Sunday, which was only three days distant. The fun of the boys was exuberant at Condy's success: they drank, and laughed, and sang, until pint after pint followed in rapid succession.

Every additional inroad upon the keg brought a fresh groan from Ellish; and even Peter himself began to look blank as their potations deepened.

When the night was far advanced they departed, after having first overwhelmed Ellish with professions of the warmest friends.h.i.+p, promising that in future she exclusively should reap whatever benefit was to be derived from their patronage.

In the meantime, Condy forgot to perform his promise. The next Sunday pa.s.sed, but Peter was not paid, nor was his clever debtor seen at ma.s.s, or in the vicinity of the shebeen-house, for many a month afterwards--an instance of ingrat.i.tude which mortified his creditor extremely. The latter, who felt that it was a take in, resolved to cut short all hopes of obtaining credit from them in future. In about a week after the foregoing hoax, he got up a board, presenting a more vigorous refusal of score than the former. His friends, who were more in number than he could have possibly imagined, on this occasion, were altogether wiped out of the exception. The notice ran to the following effect:--

”Notice to the Public, _and to Pether Connell's friends in particular_.--Divil resave the morsel of credit will be got or given in this house, while there is stick or stone of it together, barrin' them that axes it has the ready money.

”Pettier X his mark Connell, ”Ellish X her mark Connell.”

This regulation, considering everything, was a very proper one. It occasioned much mirth among Peter's customers; but Peter cared little about that, provided he made the money.

The progress of his prosperity, dating it from so small a beginning, was decidedly slow. He owed it princ.i.p.ally to the careful habits of Ellish, and his own sobriety. He was prudent enough to avoid placing any sign in his window, by which his house could be known as a shebeen; for he was not ignorant that there is no cla.s.s of men more learned in this species of hieroglyphics than excis.e.m.e.n. At all events, he was prepared for them, had they come to examine his premises. Nothing that could bring him within the law was ever kept visible. The cask that contained the poteen was seldom a week in the same place of concealment, which was mostly, as we have said, under ground. The tobacco was weighed and subdivided into small quant.i.ties, which, in addition to what he carried in his pocket, were distributed in various crevices and crannies of the house; sometimes under the thatch; sometimes under a dish on the dresser, but generally in a damp place.

When they had been about two or three years thus employed, Peter, at the solicitation of the wife, took a small farm.

”You're stout an' able,” said she; ”an' as I can manage the house widout you, wouldn't it be a good plan to take a bit o' ground--nine or ten acres, suppose--an' thry your hand at it? Sure you wor wanst the greatest man in the parish about a farm. Surely that 'ud be dacenter nor to be slungein' about, invintin' truth and lies for other people, whin they're at their work, to make thim laugh, an you doin' nothin' but standin' over thim, wid your hands down to the bottom o' your pockets?

Do, Pether, thry it, avick, an' you'll see it 'ill prosper wid us, plase G.o.d?'

”Faix I'm ladin' an asier life, Ellish.”

”But are you ladin' a dacenter or a more becominer life?”

”Why, I think, widout doubt, that it's more becominer to walk about like a gintleman, nor to be workin' like a slave.”

”Gintleman! Musha, is it to the fair you're bringin' yourself? Why, you great big bosthoon, isn't it both a sin an' a shame to see you sailin'

about among the neighbors, like a sthray turkey, widout a hand's turn to do? But, any way, take my advice, avillish,--will you, aroon?--an' faix you'll see how rich we'll get, wid a blessin'?”

”Ellish, you're a deludher!”

”Well, an' what suppose? To be sure I am. Usen't you be followin' me like a calf afther the finger?--ha, ha, ha!--Will you do my biddin', Pether darlin'?”

Peter gave her a shrewd, significant wink, in contradiction to what he considered the degrading comparison she had just made.

”Ellish, you're beside the mark, you beauty; always put the saddle on the right horse, woman alive! Didn't you often an' I often swear to me, upon two green ribbons, acra.s.s one another, that you liked a red head best, an' that the redder it was you liked it the betther?”

”An' it was thruth, too; an' sure, by the same a token, wh.o.r.e could I get one half so red as your own? Faix, I knew what I was about! I wouldn't give you yet for e'er a young man in the parish, if I was a widow to-morrow. Will you take the land?”

”So thin, afther all, if the head hadn't been an me, I wouldn't be a favorite wid you?--ha, ha, ha!”

”Get out wid you, and spake sinse. Throth, if you don't say aither ay or no, I'll give myself no more bother about it, There we are now wid some guineas together, an'--Faix, Pettier, you're vexin' me!”

”Do you want an answer?”

”Why, if it's plasin' to your honor, I'd have no objection.”

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