LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VII, Issue 710, 28 September 1876, Page 3

LITERATURE.

IRISH MATCH-MAKING. In the west of Ireland the feelings of the young woman are seldom consulted in matters matrimonial. Her father being the best judge of what is for his daughter’s advantage, opposition on her part is of very rare occurrence, except where she has taken the precaution of providing herself with a husband beforehand. When a match is made, and the bargain completed, if the girl declines to accept the husband selected, she quickly loses caste, the young men considering that a disobedient daughter must of necessity make an uncomfortable wife. Still more exceptional is any objection on the part of the young man to the wife selected for him by his father, as he feels satisfied that experience enables his parents to judge of the temper and qualifications of a woman much better than he possibly could. Moreover, the father has the advantage of being able to determine her merits with a perfectly impartial and at the same time fairly critical eye. Interest and inclination alike lead him to make the best selection; he does only after an infinite amount of cogitation ; but when his choice is made it is unalterable ; and he will obstinately contend for his son’s interest without a single thought of the young woman’s inclinations, taking it for granted that they will be in accordance with her father’s wishes. The mother has little to say in the matter on either side. She never goes matchmaking, and is not in any way consulted, being only acquainted with the intentions of her husband for their son, when he has made up his mind. Marriage is a matter of busi ness, and is like any other bargain, made with the shrewd humorous calculation which characterises the Connaught man. Marriage gifts such as pigs, poultry, a cow, &c, play an important partin their arrangements ; and the girl’s father had been known to refuse to give her a single penny of fortune until the bridegroom’s parent had conceded to her a favorite hatching goose. The following is a specimen of the way in which matrimonial affairs are managed west of the Shannon : ‘ Get out my Sunday clothes, Judy, said old Corny O’Byrne one evening when he returned from his work. ‘.I am going over to Peter Linskey’s to-night.’. 1 Musha Corny, an’ what are you going for ? ’ Judy asked, as she unlocked a large deal chest painted red, which stood near the fireplace, and carefully took out a blue frieze

tail coat, with bright metal buttons, a pair of light colored knee breeches, ribbed worsted stockings, a pair of strong shoes and a billy-cock hat, which, with a red cotton handkerchief with a flowered border (which he carried in his hat) and a stout blackthorn shillelah, constituted Corny’s Sunday suit. * Sure I’m going to make a match between our Dermott an’ Kate Linskey,’ he said at last in reply to his wife’s question. ‘ She’s a purty colleen, an’ the boy is mighty plased with her intirely.’ ‘ So she is, Corny, a lankie little girl, an’ she’ll have a snug fortune, may be; Pether is a dacent honest man.’ * Faith, Judy, an’ he is that same, or it isn’t Corny O’Bryne that would ‘ cut, shuffle, or dale ’ with him or his ; an’ Dermott tells me Kate likes him. ’ ‘ And why wouldn’t she, Corny ? There is not as purty a boy in the parish, nor a betther,’ Judy said proudly. * Thrue for ye, asthore ; give us out the ould stockin’, and we’ll make a match of it this Shrovetide with the blessin’ o’ St Patrick!’ Corny replied. From the corner of the chest Judy drew out carefully an old worsted stocking, and handed it to her husband, who weighed it in his hand, and then, with a sly wink, buttoned it into one of his pockets. ‘ This will do the business, Judy,’ he said, as he left the house, with many Banangth Laths (God prosper, or be with you) from his wife. Peter Linskey was a small farmer living about a quarter of a mile from Corny’s cabin. He had several sons, and one daughter, Kate, who was considered the beauty of the village of Ballymone. Her eldest brother was about to be married and bring his wife home, and her father considered it would be very advisable to get Kate married and settled down before the arrival of her sister-in-law, and Dermott O’Bryne—a tine, strapping young fellow, very steady and good-natured-old Peter thought would make a very good husband for his girl, especially as he was an only child, if no better suitor offered.

When Corny O’Byrne reached Peter Linsskey’s cabin he ’put his head over the halfdoor and said in Irish : ‘ God save all here the customary form of greeting in that and many other parts of Ireland. ‘ God save ye kindly, Corny,’ Peter replied from the chimney corner; ‘ come in and take a sate.’ Corny entered with both his hands behind his back, and took his seat on a three-legged stool, that Mrs Linskey had pushed in front of the lire for him. ‘ Fine weather for the crops, Corny,’ Peter said, poking up the lire with his shoe, ‘ An’ Mary, throw on a couple o’ sods o’ dry turf, an’ sweep up the hearth, will ye ? ’ Mary did as her husband desired, and then ' going to a reces in the wall by the fire-place took out from thence a new clay pipe and piece of tobacco, probably got at the last wake she had been at. ‘ Will ye light the pipe. Corny ? ’ she said, handing them to the old man, who took them with a nod and ‘ thankee kindly,’ and filled slowly, kindled with a coal from the hearth, blew a few whiffs in grave, dignified silence, and then handed it to Peter, who in equal silence smoked it for a few moments, and then handed it back to Corny and proceeded to light his own pipe. They both smoked steadily for a time; then Mrs Linskey pulled a small table be ■ tween them, produced from her chest a stone jar of potheen and a couple of cracked glasses, which she sat on the table with a noggin of cold water, and taking up her pail proceeded to milk the cows. ‘ That’s a purty colleen of yours, Pether ! ’ Corny said, after a long silence, ‘ Thrue for ye, an’ a good, sensible little girl into the bargain; it’s happy’s the man that’ll get her,’ Peter replied after due consideration. ‘ That’s what I said myself, an’ I come over to see if I can’t make a good match between my Dermott and herself ! ’ O’Byrne said after another interval. ‘He’s a likely boy,’ pursued Peter, reflectively. ‘Ye may as well say that, Pether, an’ he’ll make a good husband, no doubt, for he’s a good son. What do ye say to it ? ’ Corney asked, leaning forward on his stool.

* I’m pleased ’ — * God save all here ! ’ said a harsh, grating voice, and a head appeared in the doorway, * Good evening to ye, Pether ! ’ ‘ Good evening, kindly,’ Peter returned. ‘Come in and take a sate, Tom.’ The newcomer entered and took a stool, and, casting a questioning look at Corny O’Byrne, proceeded to light his pipe and smoked for some minutes. He was a stout, hard-featured man, with a loud voice. He was not much of a favorite in the village, and especially disliked by Corny O’Byrne—who never lost an opportunity of annoying Tom Dillon. He was a comfortable farmer, and one of his sons had been making up to Katie Linskey some time before. After a silence, during which the three old men smoked energetically, Dillon cleared his throat two or three times, and then said abruptly— 4 Pether, I want to make a match between your little girl and my Martin; have ye anything to say agin it V 4 Sorry one word, Tom ; only me neighbor Corny O’Byrne and myself were speaking o’ the same thing when ye came in ! ’ Peter replied, with a shrewd glance at them both. ‘ First come, first served, Pether,’ Corny said, shaking the ashes from his pipe and knocking the bowl against his thumb-nail; 4 mind that! ’ ‘To be sure, to be sure,’ Peter replied; and there was another long pause. ‘ An’ we may as well clinch the bargain at onct,’Corny continued. ‘To be sure, to be sure,’ Peter again assented, smoking steadily. ‘ Ye have nothin’ agin my Martin, have ye Peter Linskey ?’ Tom Dillon said, laying down his pipe. ‘ Agin him ?’ No ; he’s a nice dacint boy, and I have a great regard for him,’ Peter answered. ‘ And he has a great regard for your little girl, an’ sorra a day's good he’ll do till he’s married,’ ejaculated Tom, bringing his fist down on the table, ‘ He set his mind on it, an’ I’ll back him out!’ ‘ Turf and thunder 1 Tom Dillon, didn’t Peter Linskey tell you I came match-making for my Dermott V ‘ Thunder and turf ' Corny O’Bryne, don’t I tell you that I came to do the same thing for my Martin; an’ I suppose a Dillon may aak a Linskey in marriage any day—an he can afford it too !’ Tom added, slapping his pocket. ‘ An’ let me tell you, an O’Bryne can put down pound for pound with a Linskey any

day; or, for that matter, with a Dillon,’ Corny said, with a scornful glance at Tom, who was in his working clothes. * Pether,’ he continued, * ye know what I came for ; what fortune are you goin’ to give Katie V Peter took out his pipe, emptied it, proceeded to refill it leisurely, poked the fire, relit the pipe, settled himself back in his corner, and said slowly— ‘ Fortune, Corny ? Katie is a fortune herself. I’m a poor man, an’ the times is bad; an’ beyont a new gown a couple of fleeces of wool, and a hank or so of yarn, I can’t give her any fortune.’ Corny looked astonished, and pushed back his chair, as much as to say that all further negotiations were useless, when Tom Dillon said— £ Never mind Pether, there’s them as’ll be willing to take her without any fortune, an’ can afford it too.’ (To he continued.)