The Irish Lear

There is alegendalmostasold as Lear, of a father whom his ehildren treated ag Goneril and Eegan treated Lear; bnt lie suffered and survivod, and his heart turned bitter instead of breaking. Of this prose Lear the story is all over Europe, and, like most old ptoties, told vilely. ïo that, however, there happens to be oue exception, and the readers of this collection shall have the benefit of it. In a eertain part of Ireland, a long time ago, lived a wealthy old farmer whose name was Briaii Taafe. His three sons, Guillatun, Shamus, and Garrett worked on the farm. The old man had a great affection for them all, and, finding himself growing I nnftt for work, he resolved to hand his farm over to them, and sit quiet by the fireside. But, as that was not a thing to be done lightly, he thought he would j just put them to the trial. He wonld take the measure of their nffection. Proceeding in this order he gave them eaeh L100, and quietly -watched to see what they did with it. AVell, Guillaum and Shamus put their L100 out at interest, every penny ; but when the old man questioned Garrett as to where his L100 was, the young man said : "I spent it, father." " Spent it ?" said the old man, aghast "Is it the whole L100 ?" " Sure I thought you told us we might lay it out as we plaised." "Is that a rason ye'd waste the whole of it in a year, ye prodigal ?" cried the old man ; and he trembled at the idea of his substance falling into such hands. Some months after this he applied tlie second test. He convened his sons, and addressed them solemnly : " I am an old man, my childi-en ; my hair is white on my head, and it's time I was giving over trade and maldng my sowl aisy. " The two eider overflowed with sympathy. He then gave the dairy-farm and the lüll to Shamus, and the meadows to Guillaum. Thereupon the two vied with each other in expressions of love and gratitude. But Garrett said uever a word ; and this, coupled with his behavior about the L100, so maddened the old man that he gave Garrett's portion, namely, the home and the home farm, to his eider brotliers to hold in eommon. Garrett he disiiilierited on the spot, and in due j form. That is to say, he did not overI look lom nor pass liim by, but even as spiteful testators used to leave tlie disinherited one a shilling, that he might not be able to say he had been inadvertently omitted, and it was a niistake, old Brian Taafe solemnly presented young Garrett Taaie witli a hazel stafl' and a small bag. Poor Garrett knew very well what that meant. He shouldered the bag, and went f orth into the wide woi-ld with a sad heart, but a silent tongue. His dog, ; Lurcher, was for following him, but hè drove him back with a stone. On the strength of the new arrangement, Guillaum and Shamus married directly, and brought their wives home, for it was a large house, and room for all. But the old farmer was not contentcd to be quite a cipher, and he kept finding fault with tliis and that. The young men became more and more inipatient of his interference, and their wives famied the flame with female pertinacity. So that the house was divided, and a very home of discord. This went on gettiug worse and worse, till at last, one winter afternoon, Shamus defied his father openly before all the rest, and said: "I'd like to know what would plaise ye. Maybe ye'd like to turn us all out as ye did Garrett." The old farmer replied, with snelden dignity, " If I did, I'd take no more than I gave. " "What good was you giving it?" Kaid Guillaum; "we get no comfort of it while you are in the house. " "Do you talk that way tome?" said the fatlier, deeply grieve'd. "If it was poor Garrett I had, he wouldn't use me so." "Mueh thanks the poor boy ever got from you," said one of the women, with venomous tongue ; tlien the other woman, finding she could count on male support, suggested to her father-in-law to take his stick and pack and follow his beloved GaiTett. " Sure he'd find him begging about the eountliry. " At the women's tongues the wounded parent turned to bay. " I don't wonder at anything I hear ye Kay. Ye never yet heard of anything good that a woman could have a hand in - only mischiëf always. If ye ask who made sueh a road or built a bridge, er wrote a great history, or did a great action, you'll never hear it's a woman done it; but if there is a jewel with swords and guns, or two boys cracking each other's crowns with Khillalahs, or a didly secret let out, or a oharacter ruined, or a man brought to the gallows, or mifichief made between a father and his own flesh and blood, then I'll engage you'll hear a woman had some cali to it. We needn't liave reooorse to histhory to know your doin's; 'tis undher our ejes; í'or 'was the likes o' ye two burued Throy, and made the King o' Leinsther rebel a'gainst Brian Boni." These shaftsof eloquenoestruekhome; the women set up a screaming, and pulled their caps oft' their heads, which in that part was equivalent to gentle-folks drawing their swords. " Oh, murther ! murthor, was it fot this I marricd you, Gullaum Tuafe ?" " Oeh, Shamus, will yo sit an' bearine compared to üio likes ? Woüld I rebel against Brirm Boru, Shamus, a'ra gal ?" " Don't Leed him, avourneen," said Shamus ; " he is an ould man." But she would not be pacifted. " Oh vo ! vo ! if ever I thought the like 'ud be said of me, tlmt I'd rebel against Bi'ian Bonx !" As for the other, she preparad to lcave the hoffse. " Guillaran," said shc, " I'd never sta y a day undher your roof with tliem as would say I'd bürn Thro.y. Does he forget he eVer liad a inother himself ? Ah ! 'tis a bad apple, that's what it is, that despises the tree it spiïmg froin." All this lieated Shairms, so that he told the woman sternly to sit down, for the offender should go ; ahd iipon th;it, to show they were of oue miad, Guillaran deliberately oponed the door. Luroher ran out, and the wind and the rain rushed in, It was a stormy night. Then the old man took fright, and humbled himself : "Ali! Shamus, Gnillaum, achree, let ye have it as ye will ; I'm sorry for what I said, a'ra gal. Don't turn me out on the high-road in my old days, Guillaran, and I'll engage I'll never open my mouth against one o' ye the longest day I live. Ah ! Shamus, it isn't long I have to stay wid ye, any way. Yer own hair will be as white as mine yet, plaise God ! and ye'll be thankiug him ye showed respect to mine. this night." But tliey were all young and of one mind, and they turned him out and barred the door. He crept away, shivering in the wind and rain, till he got on the lee side of a stone wall, and tliere he stopped and asked himself whether he could live through the night. Presently something cold and smooth poked against his hand ; it was a large dog that had followed unobserved till he stopped. By a white mark on his breast he saw it was Lurcher, Garrett's dog. "Ali ! said the poor waaiderer, " you are not so wise a dog as I thought, to i f ollow me. " Wlien he spoke to the dog, the dog fondled him. Uien he burst out sobbing and erying ; ' ' Ah, Lurcher ! Garrett waa not wise either ; but he would niver have turned me to the door, this bitter night, nor even thee." And so he moaned and lamented. But Lurcher pulled his coat, and by his movement conveyed to him that he should not stay tliere all night ; so then he crept oli and knocked at more than one door, but did not obtain admittance, it was so tempestuous. At last he lay down exhausted on some straw in the corner of an outhouse ; but Lurcher lay close to him, and it is probable the warmth of the dog saved his life that night. Next day the wind and rain abated; but this aged man had other ills to tight against besides winter and rough weather. The sense of his son's ingratitude and his own folly drovc 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 ' er, he did not beg; he used to disappear, ; often for an hour at a time, but always ' retumed, and often with a rabbit or even ( a hare in his mouth. Sometimes the ; friends exchanged them for a gallon of meal, sometimes they roasted them in the ■ woods; Lurcher was a civilized dog, and did not like them raw. Wandering hither and thither, Brian Taaie came at last within a few miles of ' his own house; but he soon liad 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 recogiiized him as the father ] of that rogue Guillaum Taafe, who had ! cheated him in the sale of a horse, and ' another as the father of that thief ' Shamus, who had sold him a diseased ' cow that liad died the jveek after. So, tor tlie first time since he was driven out of liis home, he passed the night suppei'less, for houses did not lie close together in that part. Cold, Irangiy, houseless, and distracted with grief at what he had been and now was, nature gave way at last, and, unable to ontlast the weaiy, bitter night, he lost his senses just before dawn, and lay motionless 011 the hard road. The chances were he must die; but just at death's door his luek turned. Lurcher put his feet over liim and his chin upon his breast to guard him, as he liad ofteu guarded Gan-ett's coat, and that kept a little "warmth in his heart; and at tlie very dawn of day the door of a farmhouse opened, and the master came out upon his business and saw something 1111usual lying in the road a good way off. So he went toward it and fouud Brian Taaie in that condition. This farmer was very well-to-do, but he had known trouble, and it had made him charitable. He soon halloed 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 lie was all in tatters. They laid him between hot blankets, and, when he carne to a bit, gave him warm drink, and at last a good meal. Ho recovered his spirits, and thanked üiem witli a certain dignity. When he was qnite comfortable, uid not before, they askcd his name. "Ah! don't ask me that," said he, piteously. "It's a bad name Ihave, 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 sons. It is hard tobe turned f rom myown door, let alone from other honest men's doors, through the 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 couldn't restrain hercuriosity. " Why, good man," said she, " sure youai'e too decent aman to be ashamed of your name. " " I'm too decent not to be ashamed of it," BaiS Brian, "but you are right; an honest man should teil his name though they dmv him out of heaveu for it. I am Brian Taafe - that was." "Not Brian Taafe, the strong farmer at Corrans?" ' ' Ay, madam ; I'm all that's left of him." " Have yon a son called Garrett?" "Ihad, then." The woman spokeno more to liim, but ran soreaming to tlie door : ' ' Here, Tom ! Toni ! come here " cried she ; "Torn! Tom!" As Lurcher, a very sympathetic dog, flew to the door and yelled and barked fiercely in support of this invocation, the hnllabaloo soon brouglit the farmer running in." " Oh Tom, asthore," eried she, "it's MY. Taafe, the fatlier of Garrett Taafe liimself." " Oh Lord !" cried the farmer, inequal agitiition, and stared at him. " My blessing on the day you ever set t'oot within these doors I Then he ran to the door and halloed : " Hy, Murpbyl Ellen ! come here, ye divils !" Lurcber supported the cali with great energy. In ran a fine little boy and girl. "Look at this man with all the eyes in your body !" saifl he. "This is Misther Taafe, fatlier of Garrett Taafe, that saved üs all from ruin and destruction entirely. " He then turnecl to Mr. Taafe and told liim, a little more cahnly, " that years ago, every haporth they had was going to be cartea for the rent ; but Oarrett Taafe carne by, put his hand in bis jiocket, took out tliirty ponnds, and eleared 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 overfiowed with grief and penitence. "Och, murtheï! inurther!" he cried. " My boy ! what had I to do at all to go and turn you adrift, as I had done, for no raison in life ?" Then with a piteous, apologetic wail : "I tuck tlie wrong for the right ; that's the way the world is blinded. Och, Garrett, Garrett, what will I do with the thought of it ? An' those two vilyins that I gave it all to and they tumed me out in my ould days, as I done you. No mather?" and he feil into a sobbing and a trembling that nearly killed liim for the second time. But the true friends of his son Garrett nursed liim through that, and comforted liim, so he recovered. But, as he did live, he outlived those tender feelings whose mortal wounds had so nearly killed hiin. When he i'ecovered 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 af ter your son lielped us, luck set in our way. Mary, she had a legacy ; we had a wonderful erop of flax, and with that plant 'tis kill or cure ; and then I foünd laad in the hill, and they pay me a dale o' money for leave to mine there. I'm almost asbaliied to take it. I teil you all this to show you I can afford to pay you back that L'0, and if you please I'll count it out." "No !" said Mr. Taafe, "I'll not take Garrett's money ; but if you will do me a favor, 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 teil it to his wife. "For," said old Brian, " the very birds will carry these things about ; and sure it is knowing devils I have to deal with, especially the women." Next day the farmer lent him a" good suit and drove him to a quiet corner scarce a hundred yards from his old abode. The old farmer got down and lef t him. Lurcher walked at his inaster's i heels. It was noon and the sun shining bright. The wife of Shamus Taafe came ont to hang up her nian's sliirt to dry, whn, ; lo ! scarce thirty yards from lier, she b.iw an old man seated counting out gold on a broad stone at his feet. At first i she thought it must be one of the good i people - or fairies - or else she must be dreaming ; but, no ! cocking her head ■ on one side, she saw for certain the proñle of Briau Taafe, and he was counting i a mass of gold. She ran in and screamed ■ her news rather than spoke it. "Nonsense, woman ! " said Shamus, roughly; " it's not in nature. " " Then go and see for yourself, man ! " 1 said she. Shamus was not the only one to take this advice. They all stole out on ; toe, and made a soit of semi-circle of i euriosity. It was no dream ; there were i piles and piles of gold glowing in thé sun, and old Brian with a horse-pistol I i across his knees ; and even Lurcher 1 3eemed to have his eyes steadily fixed j ou the glittering booty. Wlien they had ; thoroughiy tlnmk m this most unexpected scène, tliey began to talk in agitated whispers ; but oven in talking tliey never looked at each other ; their eyes were gliied on the gold. Said Guillaum: " Ye did very wrong, Shamus, to tnni out the old father as yon done ; see now what we all lost by it. ïhat's a part of the money he laid by, and we'll never sec a penny of it. " The wives whispered that it was a foolish thing to say. " Leave it to us," said tliey, ' ' and we'll have it all, one day." This being agreed to, the women stolc toward the old man, one on each side. Lnicher rose and snarled, and old Brian hurried his gold into his ampie pockets, and stood on the defensive. " Oh, father ! and is it you come back? Oh, the Lord be praised ! Oh, the weary day since you left lis, and all out good luck wid ye ! " Brian received this and similar speeches with fury and reproaches. Then they humbled themselves and wept, curscd their ill-governed tongues, and bêwailcd the men's folly in listening to them. They flattered him and cajoled him, and ordered their husbands to come forward and ask the old man's pardon, and not let him ever leave them again. The supple sons were all penitenoe and affection directly. Brian at last consented to stay, but stipulated for a certain ch amber with a key to it. 'Tor, "said he. ' ' I have got my strong-box to take care of, as woll as myseli." They pricked up their ears directly at mention of the strong-box, and asked where it was. "Oh! it is not f ar, but I can't carry it. Give me two boys to fetch it." " Oh ! Guillaum and Shamus would carry it or anything to oblige a long-lost father." So they went with him to the farmer's (art, and brought in tho box, wliich was pretty large, and above all very i'ull and heavy. He was once more king of his own house, and flattered and petted as he never had been since he gave away his estáte. To be sure he fed this by mysteridUB hints that he had other lands besides those in that part of the country, and that, indeed, the full extent of h'is possessions would never be known until his will was read ; which will was safely locked away in his strong-box - with other things. And so he passed a pleasant time, embittered only by regrets, and very poignant they were, that he oould hcar nothing of his sou Garrett. Lurehor also was taken great care of, and became old and lazy. But shocks that do not kill undermine. Before he reached three-score and ten, Brian Taafe's night-work and troubles told uport him, and he neared his end. He was quite conscious of it, and nnnounced Iiík öwn departure, but not in a regretful way. He had become quite a philósopher ; and indeed there was a sort of clmeile about the old fellow in speaking af his owndenth, which his daughterin-law secretly denounced as unchristian, and, what was worse, unchancy. Whenever he did inention the oxpected event, lio was sure to say , ' ' And lnind, boys, my will is in that chest." "Úon't speak of it, father," was the reply. When lie was dying, he called for his sous, and said, in a feeble voice : "I was a strong farmer, and come of honest folk. Ye'll give meagood wakiu', boys, au' a gran' funeral." They proniised this very heartily. " And af ter the ñmeral ye'll all. come here together, and open the will, the children an' all. All hut Garrett. I've left him nothing, poor boy, for sure he's not in this world. 111 maybe see him where I'm goin'. " So there was a grand wake, and the virtues of the deceased and his professional impórtanos were duly howled by an old lady who excelled in this lugubrious art. Then the funeral was hurried on, becanse they were in a hurry to open the chest. The funeral was joined in the churchyard by a stranger, who muflied his face, and shed the only tears tliat feil upon tlint grave. After the funeral he stayed behind all the rest and mourned, but he joined the family at the feast which followed ; and, behold, it was Garrett, come a day too late. He was welcomed with exuberant aftection, not being down in the will ; bilt they did not ask him to sleep there. They wanted to be alone, and read the Will. He begged for some reminiscence of his father, and they gave liirn Lurcher. So he put Lurcher into liis gig, and drove away to that good farmer, sure of his welcome, and praying God he might fiiid him alive. Perhaps his brothers would not have let him go so easily had they known he had made a large fortune in America, and was going to buy quite a slice of the county. On the way he kept talking to Lurcher, and remindmg him of certain sports they had en joyed together, and feats of poaching they had performed. Poor old Lnrcher had been pricking his ears all the time, and cudgeling his memory as to the tones of the voice tliat was addressing him. Garrett reached the farm, and was received first with stares, then with cries of joy, and was dragged into the house, so to speak. After the first ardor of welcome, he told them he had arrived only just in time to bury his father. "And this old dog," said he, "is all that's left me of him. He was mine first, and, when I left, he took to father. He was always a wisedog." " We know him," said the wife, "he has been here before. " And she was going to blurt it all out, but her man j said, " Another time," and gave her a look as black as thunder, which wasn't i his way at all, but he explained to her afterward. " They are friends, those three, over the old man's grave. We should think twice before we stir ill blood betune 'em." So, when he stopped her, she turned it off cleverly enough, and said the dear old dog must have his supper. Supper they gave him, and a tiew sheep-skin to lie on by the great fire. So there he lay and seemed to doze. The best bed in the house was laid for Garrett. and when he got up to go to it Sidn't that wise old dog get up, too, with un effort, and move stiffly toward Garrett, and lick his hand ; and then he lay down iigain all of a piece, as who should say : " I'm very tired of it all." "He knows me now at last," said Garrett, joyfully. 1 ' Tliat is his way of saying good-night, I i suppose. He was always a wonderful I wisedog." In the moming they found Lurcher ïead and stiff on the sheep-skin. It was i long good-night he had bid so quietly k the friend of his youth. Garrett shed tears over him and said : " If I had only known what he meant, . ['d have sat up with him. But I never 3ould see far. He was a deal wiser for a log than I shall ever be for a man." Meantime the family party assembled in the bedroom of the deceased. Eveiy :race of feigned regret had left their aces, and all their eyes sparkled with oy and curiosity. They went to open ' the chest. It was locked. They hunted for the key ; fh'st quietly, then fussily. The women found it at last, sewed up in the bed ; they out it out and opened the chest. The first thing they found was a lot of stones. They glared at them, and the color left their faces. Wliat deviltry was this ? Presently they found writing on one stone : " Look below. " Then there was a reaction, and a loud laugh. " The oíd fox was afraid the money and parchments ; would fly away, so he kept them down." They plunged their hands in, and soon cleared out a barrowful of stones ; till they carne to a kind of paving-stone. They lifted this carefully out, and discovered a good new ropo with a running noose, and - the will. It was headed in large letters fincly engrossed : " The last will and testament of Brian Taafe." But the body of the instrument was in the scrawl of the testator : "I bequeath all the stones in this box to the hearts that could turn their father and benefactor out on the highway that stormy night. " I bequeath this rope for any father to hang himself with who is fooi eiiough to givc liis property to Iris childreu before he dies." This is a prosaic story comparecí witli the Lear of Shakspeare, but it is well told by Gerald Griflin, who was a man of genius. Of course I claim little merit, but that of setting tlie jewels. Were I to teil you that is an art, I suppose you