LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VII, Issue 711, 29 September 1876, Page 3

LITERATURE.

IRISH MATCH-MAKING, f Concluded.} ‘ Thrue for ye, Tom Dillon, an’ one of them is Dermott O’Bryne. We’re not depending on a few bare pounds —not but it’s well to have something to put by for the childer,’ he added cautiously. ‘To be sure, Corny, to be sure,’ Peter assented. * Well, Pether, is it to be me or Corny ? Is a Dillon to be put behind the door for an O’Byrne ? Isn’t my Martin as likely a boy as there’s in the barony ? He’ll take your colleen without a brass penny, an’ do well for her. What do you say to that? ’ Tom asked, slapping the table. * Bedad, then, Tom, I’m in a fix entirely. Here’s Corny, a dacint old man, with a fine, steady gossoon of a son—he’s first; an’ here’s yourself, an honest man an’ a good neighbor —sorra betther—an’ sure Martin is the pride of the parish on a Sunday ! I’m bothered intirely, an’ what can I say but settle it betune ye. Whichever of ye can do the best for her, take her, in the name of St Pathrick,’ and Peter resumed his pipe, and sank back into his corner. The two old men eyed one another silently for a few minutes, then Dillon pulled a little bag from his pocket, opened it deliberately, and took out another, from which he drew forth a third, made of purple stuff fastened with a piece of red braid. Very slowly, his eye still fixed on Corny, he pulled out a sovereign and laid it on the table. * Show Peter Linskey what ye mane to do, Corny O’Byrne,’ he said. Corny smiled scornfully, produced his old stocking, and taking from thence a fivepound note, put it beside him, and nodded his head defiantly. Tom drew forth four more sovereigns, clinked them one after another on the table, and nodded his head. Old Peter smoked away in his corner without uttering a word. Corny waited for a moment, and then said, ‘ls that all you’re going to do, Misther Dillon?’

Tom threw down another sovereign. Corny followed his example, till they had each laid twenty pounds upon the table. ‘ls that all you’re going to do, Misther Dillon ? ’ Corny repeated. ‘ In ready money, it is, Misther O’Byrne.’ ‘ Then I bate ye at that! ’ Corny cried, throwing down another pound. * I bate him in cash, Pether, do ye mind that ? ’ Peter nodded and smoked away. ‘ I’ll take the girl in an’ share the best we have with her, an’ give Martin two acres of land and a couple of bonives’ (little pigs), announced Tom Dillon. ‘ Dermott ’ll have my land when I’m gone, every rood,’ exclaimed Corny. ‘ I’ll give a heifer in I Twenty pounds, share of a house, two acres of land, an’ a heifer. What do ye say, Pether?’ Tom cried. ‘Not bad for a colleen without a penny ! ’ ‘ True for you, Tom,’ Peter assented. * What ’ll you do, Corny ? ’ ‘ Twenty-one pounds—down the day they’re married, a house an’ home, an’ a feather bed, an’ the finest mule in the parish —that’s what I’ll do ! ’ ‘ But the land—Tom is giving two acres,’ Peter observed ; ‘ think of that, Corny.’ ‘ Dermott ’ll have the land afther me, an’ enough to eat off till I’m gone. I have no one but me. Tom Dillon has three times more to provide for.’ ‘ An’ plenty to do it with ; an’ I’ll make it three acres, Pether, of the best land in Ballymoyne,’ Tom replied. ‘ It’s fair, an’ I’m obleged to ye, Tom,’ Peter said slowly. * I’ll make it twenty-five down, an’ throw in a heifer,’ Corny cried. ‘ It’s very decent, Corny, an’ I’m obleged to ye,’ Peter quietly observed in the same tone.

‘ I’ll throw in a calf ! ’ exclaimed Dillon ; ‘twenty pounds, three acres of laud, a bonive, a heifer, an’ a calf. Now, Pether, done or not ? ’ ‘ I think ye spoke of two bonives, Tom ? ’ Peter said quietly. ‘ No, no ; only one. It’s all I can spare ; an’ I think it’s not bad, Pether ! ’ ‘ Bedad, Tom, I think ye said a couple of bonives,’ Peter said again. ‘ NahocMish (never mind), Peter; I’ll throw in a whole brood o’ducks —take it or lose it! Twenty-five pounds down the day they’re married, a house an’ home, a feather bed, a fine mule, a heifer, an’ a clutch o’ ducks ! ’ said Corny, putting his money back into his stocking. ' Faix, an’ a clutch o’ ducks isn’t bad,’ observed Peter. ‘They’re better than a calf to them that hasn’t a cow to (feed it; an’ Corny’s is the best house, an’ Katie’ll have it all to herself. When your Matt an’ James marry, it ’ll be mighty narrow for ye all!’ ‘ James is going to America, Pether,’ said Tom. ‘ Well, that makes a difference. But isn’t there anything else ye’r inclined to offer ? Dermott is the best match at this minute,’ observed Peter. ‘ I’m done ! ’ said Tom. Then suddenly starting up he cried, ‘ Wait a minute,’ and ran out of the house, returning in a quarter of an hour, staggering under a great sack of seed potatoes. * There Corny O’Byrne ; put that in your pipe an’ smoke it! ’ he cried exultingly. Corny, at the first sight of the sack, started to his feet and put on his hat. ‘Wait a minute, Peter,’ he cried, ‘ I’ll not be long ’ —and running all the way home he was soon there. ‘ Get me a sack, Judy—the meal sack—an’ be quick, asthore V he cried, excitedly. ‘ Arra be aisy. Corny ; sure an the male is in it.’ ‘ Bctther and betther,’ cried Corny, going into the room which served as dairy; and without vouch-saying another word to the astonished Judy, he shouldered the sack and trotted off with it as fast he could. Completely out of breath, he reached Peter’s house bathed in perspiration; but on entering he unluckily tripped over the doorstop, and fell with the sack full length into the kitchen. The string round the neck of the bag gave way, and, covered with the meal, he groaned and stammered breathlessly : ‘ Th-there, Pe-pether Linskey! Wh-while the praties was gr-growing the meal would keep them alive ! What d’ye say Pe-pether V ‘ Begorra, Corny, I say what I often said before, that yer a dacent man—and your boy is welcome to Kate Linskey. ‘ What do you mean, Pether ?’ said Tom Dillon.

‘ What I say, Tom ; nor a more nor less. The childer might die o’ the Faregurtka (a

fainting brought on by hunger or over fatigue without proper nourishment) while the praties was growin’. Dermott O’Dryne can best provide my little gill with comforts, an’ he’s welcome to her.’ At that moment a merry laugh caused the three old men to look round, and Corny tried to scramble to his feet. In the doorway stood Katie Linskey, her hands pressed to her sides and tears of mirth coursing down her pretty face. * I’m sorry for your trouble Corny,’ she said, advancing; ‘but I could not help laughing, you look so quare;’ and she burst into a fresh peal. ‘Be quiet, Katie, an’ come here,’ said' Peter, beckoning his daughter to his side. ‘ I was match-making for ye ; an’ the bargain is closed betune me an’ Corny for ye an’ Dermott O’Bryne. ‘ You don’t mane it, father ? ’ said Katie, with a comical glance at Corny and Tom Dillon. * Shu re enough, I do, my colleen; have ye anything to say agin it ? ’ replied Peter, knocking the ashes from his eyes. ‘ Musha, not a word at all, father dear, only—only’ * Only what, Katie ?’ ‘ Only I was married last Tuesday to Jack Mangan, the painter,’ she replied with a loud musical laugh, which brought her husband to the door. ‘ What, ’ shrieked Tom Dillon. ‘ What, ’ echoed Corny. ‘Oh, Pether Linskey, Pether Linksey, yer afther humbugging us, cried Tom, reproachfully. ‘ Ay, humbugging us,’ echoed Corny mournfully; and Peter, who was a sly old humurist, put his head against the wall and laughed heartily at their astonishment. The two ambassadors silently took up their respective sacks and slowly departed, each thinking himself much injured, and in their mutual discomfiture forgetting their animosity. As for Peter, he was only too well pleased to have his daughter well married and off his hands, with even the ‘ new gown ’ or the priest’s dues —though he could afford to give her a good fortune—as good fortunes go in that part of the country. When next Corny went * match-making ’ he took care to find out beforehand if the young woman was ‘ willing ;’ and as for Tom Dillon, he vowed it served him right to be ‘ humbugged,’ as he only wanted to bother his neighbor, Corny O’Byrne {with whom he was ever after a good friend), and he declared that in future his ‘boys’ might matchmake for themselves.