LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 849, 14 March 1877, Page 3

LITERATURE.

BRIAN TAAFE,

( Continued ) Next day the wind and rain abated, but this aged man had other ills to light against besides winter and rough weather. The sense of his sons’ ingratitude and his own folly, drove him almost mad. Sometimes he would curse and thirst for vengeance, sometimes he would shed tears that seemed to scald his withered cheeks. He got into another county and begged from door to door. As for Lurcher, be did not beg ; he used to disappear, often for an hour at a time, but always returned, and often with a rabbit or even a bare in bis mouth. Sometimes the friends exchanged them for a gallon of meal, sometimes they roasted them m the woods ; Lurcher was a civilised dog, and did not like them raw.

Wandering hither and thither, Brian Taafe came at last within a few miles of his own house ; but he soon had cause to wish himself farther off it; for here he met his first downright rebuff, and, cruel to say, he owed it to his hard-hearted sons. One recognised him as the father of that rogue G-uillaum Taafe, who had cheated him in the sale of a horse; and another as the father of that thief Shamug, who had sold him a diseased cow that died the week after. So, for the first time since he was driven out of his home, ho passed the night supperless, for houses did not lie close together in that part. Cold, hungry, houseless, and distracted with grief at what ho had been and now was, nature gave way at last; and unable to outlast the weary, bitter night, he lost his senses just before dawn, and lay motionless on the hard road.

The chances wore he must die ; but just Death’s door his luck turned.

Lurcher put his feet over him and hi* chin upon his breast to guard him as he had often guarded Garret’s coat, and that kept a little warmth in his heart; and at the very dawn of day the door of a farmhouse opened, and the master camo out upon his business, and saw something unusual lying in the road a good way off. So he went towards it and found Brian Taafe in that condition. This farmer was very well to do, but h,e had known trouble, and it had made him charitable. He soon hallooed to his men and had the old man taken in ; he, called his wife, too, and bade her observe that it was a reverend face though he was all in tatters. They laid him between hot blankets, and, when he came-to a bit, gave him warm drink, and. at last a good meal. He recovered hia spirits and thanked them with a certain dignity. When he was quite comfortable, and not before, they asked him his name. ‘Ah! don’t ask me that,’ said he, piteously, ‘ It’s a bad name I have, and it used to be a good one, too. Don’t ask me, or maybe you’ll put me out, as the others did, for the fault of my two sous. It is hard to be turned from my own door, let alone from other honest men’s doors, through tlio vilyins,’said he.

.So the farmer was kindly, and said, ‘Never mind your name, fill your belly.’ But by and by the man went out into the yard, and then, the wife could not restrain her curiosity. '’Why, good man,’said she,

* sure you are too decent a man to be ashamed of your name.’ ‘ I’m too decent not to be ashamed of it,’ said Brian. ‘ But you are right; an honest man should tell his name though they druv him out of heaven for it. 1 am Brian Taafe —that was.’

‘Not Brian Taafe, the strong farmer at Comma ?’

‘ Ay, madam ; I’m all that’s left of him.’ ‘ Have you a sou called Garret 7’ ‘1 had, them’

The woman spoke no more to him, but ran screaming to the door, * Here, Tom I Tom! come here !’ cried she ; ‘Tom! Tom!’ As Lurcher, a very sympathetic dog, flew to the door and yelled and barked fiercely in support of this invocation, the hullabaloo soon brought the farmer running in. ‘Uh, Tom! asthore,’ cried she, ‘it’s Mister Taafe, the father of Garret Taafe, himself.’

‘Oh, Lord!’ cried the farmer, in equal agitation, and stared at him. *My blessing on the day you ever set foot within these doors,’ Then he ran to the door and hallooed, * Hy, Murphy ! Ellen ! come here, ye divils!’

Lurcher supported the call with great energy. In ran a fine little boy and girl. ‘ Look at this man with all the eyes in your body ! ’ said he. ‘ This is Misther Taafe, father of Garret Taafe, that saved us all from ruin and destruction entirely.’ Ha then turned to Mr Taafe, and told him a little more calmly, ‘ that years ago every haporth that they had was going to be carted for the rent; but Garret Taafe came by, put his hand in his pocket, took out thirty pounds, and cleared them in a moment. It was a way he had; we were not the only ones he saved that way, so long as he had it to give.’ The old man did not hear these last words; his eyes were opened, the iron entered his soul, and he overflowed with grief and penitence.

‘ Och, murther, murther ! ’ he cried. *My poor boy ! what had I to do at all to go and turn you adrift, as I done, for no raison in life ! ’ Then, with a piteous apologetic wail, ‘ I tuck the wrong for the right; that’s the way the world is blinded. Och ! Garret, Garret, what will I do with the thoughts of it ? An’ those two vilyins that I gave it all to, and they turned me out in my ould days, as I done you ; no matther! ’ and he fell into a sobbing and trembling that nearly killed him for the second time. But the true friends of his son Garret nursed him through that, and comforted him ; so he recovered. But, as he did live, he outlived those tender feelings whose mor'al wounds had so nearly killed him. When he recovered this last blow, he brooded and brooded, but never shed another tear.

One day, seeing him pretty well restored as he thought, the good farmer came to him with a fat bag of gold. ‘ Sir,’ said he, ‘ soon after your son helped us, luck set in our way. Mary she had a legacy ; we had a wonderful crop of flax, and with that plant ’tis kill or cure ; and then I found lead in the hill, and they pay me a dale o’ money for leave to mine there. I’m almost ashamed to take it. I tell you all this to show you I can afford to pay you back that thirty pounds, and if you please I’ll count it out. ’ ‘No I’ said Mr Taafe, ‘ I’ll not take Garret’s money; but if you will do me a favour, lend me the whole bag for a week, for at the sight of it I see a way to— Whisper.’ Then, with bated breath and in strict confidence, he hinted to the farmer a scheme of vengeance. The farmer was not even to tell it to his wife, ‘ for,’ said old Brian, ‘the very birds carry these things about; and sure it is knowing divils I have to do with, especially the women. ’ {To he continued