Phelim Otoole's Courtship and Other Stories - Part 15
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Part 15

"None of your broad hints, Paddy," said Nick. "If it's a collusion to Sally Flattery you mane, take care I don't make you ate your words."

"Paddy," exclaimed Phelim, "you oughtn't to be hurtin' their feelin's!"--(a friendly wink to Paddy.)

"If you mane me," said the housekeeper, "by the crook on the fire, I'd lave you a mark."

"I mane you for one, thin, since you provoke me," replied Donovan.

"For one, is it?" said Nick; "an' who's the other, i' you plase?"

"Your brother's daughter," he replied. "Do you think I'd even (*

compare) my daughter to a thief?"

"Be gorra," observed Phelim, "that's too provokin', an' what I wouldn't bear. Will ye keep the pace, I say, till I spake a word to Mrs Doran?

Mrs. Doran, can I have a word or two wid you outside the house?"

"To be sure you can," she replied; "I'd give you fair play, if the diouol was in you."

Phelim, accordingly, brought her out, and thus accosted her,--

"Now, Mrs. Doran, you think I thrated you ondacent; but do you see that book?" said he, producing a book of ballads, on which he had sworn many a similar oath before? "Be the contints o' that book, as sure as you're beside me, it's you I intind to marry. These other two--the curse o'

the crows upon them! I wish we could get them from about the place--is bothyrin' for love o' me, an' I surely did promise to get myself called to them. They wanted it to be a promise of marriage; but, says I, 'sure if we're called together it's the same, for whin it comes to that, all's right,'--an' so I tould both o' them, unknownst to one another. Arra, be me sowl, you'd make two like them, so you would; an' if you hadn't a penny, I'd marry you afore aither o' them to-morrow. Now, there's the whole sacret, an' don't be onaisy about it. Tell Father O'Hara how it is, whin you go home, an' that he must call the three o' you to me agin on next Sunday, and the Sunday afther, plase Goodness; jist that I may keep my promise to them. You know I couldn't have luck or grace if I marrid you wid the sin of two broken promises on me."

"My goodness, Phelim, but you tuck a, burdyeen off o' me! Faix, you'll see how happy we'll be."

"To be sure we will! But I'm tould you're sometimes cra.s.s, Mrs. Doran.

Now, you must promise to be kind an' lovin' to the childre, or be the vestment, I'll break off the match yet."

"Och, an' why wouldn't I, Phelim, acushla? Sure that's but rason."

"Well, take this book an' swear it. Be gorra, your word won't do, for it's a thing my mind's made up on. It's I that'll be fond o' the childre."

"An' how am I to swear it, Phelim? for I never tuck an oath myself yet."

"Take the book in your hand, shut one eye, and say the words afther me.

Be the contints o' this book,"

"Be the contints o' this book,"

"I'll be kind an' motherly, an' boistherous,"

"I'll be kind, an' motherly, an boistherous,"

"To my own childhre,"

"To my own childhre,"

"An' never bate or abuse thim,"

"An' never bate or abuse thim,"

"Barrin' whin they desarve it;"

"Barrin' whin they desarve it;"

"An' this I swear,"

"An' this I swear,"

"In the presence of St. Phelim,"

"In the presence of St. Phelim," "Amin!"

"Amin!"

"Now, Mrs. Doran, acushla, if you could jist know how asy my conscience is about the childhre, poor crathurs, you'd be in mighty fine spirits.

There won't be sich a lovin' husband, begad, in Europe. It's I that'll coax you, an' b.u.t.ther you up like a new pair o' brogues; but, begad, you must be sweeter than liquorice or sugar-candy to me. Won't you, darlin'?"

"Be the cra.s.s, Phelim, darlin', jewel, I'll be as kind a wife as ever breathed. Arrah, Phelim, won't you come down to-morrow evenin'? There'll be no one at home but myself, an'--ha, ha, ha!--Oh, you coaxin' rogue!

But, Phelim, you musn't be--Oh, you're a rogue! I see you laughin'! Will you come darlin?"

"Surely. But, death alive! I was near for-gettin'; sure, bad luck to the penny o' the ten guineas but I paid away."

"Paid away! Is it my ten guineas?"

"Your ten guineas, darlin'; an' right well I managed it. Didn't I secure Pat Hanratty's farm by it? Sam Appleton's uncle had it as good as taken; so, begad, I came down wid the ten guineas, by way of airles, an' now we have it. I knew you'd be plased to hear it, an' that you'd be proud to give me ten more for clo'es an' the weddin' expenses. Isn't that good news, avourneen? Eh, you duck o' diamonds? Faith, let Phelim alone! An'

another thing--I must call you Bridget for the future! It's sweeter an'

more lovin'."

"Phelim, I wish you had consulted wid me afore you done it: but it can't be helped. Come down to-morrow evenin', an' we'll see what's to be done."

"The grace o'heaven upon you, but you are the winnin'est woman alive this day! Now take my advice, an' go home without comin' in. I'm wantin'

to get this other pair off o' my hands, as well as I can, an' our best way is to do it all widout noise. Isn't it, darlin'?"

"It is, Phelim, jewel; an' I'll go."

"Faith, Bridget, you've dealt in thracle afore now, you're so sweet.

Now, acushla, farewell: an' take care of yourself till tomorrow evenin'!"

Phelim, on re-entering his father's cabin, found Larry and Peggy Donovan placed between her father and Flattery, each struggling to keep them asunder. Phelim at first had been anxious to set them by the ears, but his interview with the old woman changed his plan of operations altogether. With some difficulty he succeeded in repressing their tendency to single combat, which, having effected, he brought out Flattery and his niece, both of whom he thus addressed:--

"Be the vestment, Sally, only that my regard an' love for you is uncommon, I'd break off the affair altogether, so I would."

"An' why would you do so, Phelim O'Toole?" inquired the uncle.

"Bekase," replied Phelim, "you came here an' made a show of me, when I wished to have no _bruliagh_, at all at all. In regard of Peggy Donovan, I never spoke a word to the girl about marriage since I was christened.

Saize the syllable! My father brought me down there to gosther awhile, the other night, an' Paddy sent away for whiskey. An' the curse o'

Cromwell on myself! I should get tossicated. So while I was half-saes over, the two ould rip set to makin' the match--planned to have us called--an' me knowin' nothin' about it, good, bad, or indifferent.

That's the thruth, be the sky above us."