Confessions Of Con Cregan, the Irish Gil BlasLever, Charles
General
Confessions Of Con Cregan, the Irish Gil Blas
Lever, Charles
Ireland -- Fiction
The youth, deterred by this reception, would have abandoned the scheme
at once; but I, better acquainted with such characters as Andy, and
knowing that his difficulties were only items in the intended charge,
higgled, and bargained, and bullied, and blarneyed by turns; and, after
some five and forty minutes of alternate joking and abusing each other,
it was at last agreed on that the "baste" was to be ceded for the sum of
fifteen shillings,--"two and sixpence more if his honor was pleased with
the way she carried him;" the turnpike and a feed of oats being also
at the charge of the rider, as well as all repairs of shoes incurred
by loss or otherwise. Then there came a supplemental clause as to the
peculiar care of the animal. How "she was n't to be let drink too much
at once, for she 'd get the colic;" and if she needed shoeing, she
was to have a "twitch" on her nose, or she'd kick the forge to
"smithereens." The same precaution to be taken if the saddle required
fresh girthing; a hint was given, besides, not to touch her with the
left heel, or she 'd certainly kick the rider with the hind leg of
the same side; and, as a last caution given, to be on our guard at the
cross-roads at Toomes-bridge, or she'd run away towards Croghan, where
she once was turned out in foal. "Barring" these peculiarities, and
certain smaller difficulties about mounting, "she was a lamb, and the
sweetest-tempered crayture ever was haltered."
In the very midst of this panegyric upon the animal's good and noble
qualities he flung open the door of a little shed, and exhibited her to
our view. I verily believe, whatever the urgency of the youth's reason
for proceeding, that his heart failed him at the sight of the steed; a
second's reconsideration seemed to rally his courage, and he said, "No
matter, it can't be helped; saddle her at once, and let us be off."
"That's easier said nor done," muttered Andy to himself, as he stood at
the door, without venturing a step farther. "Con," said he, at last, in
a species of coaxing tone I well knew boded peril, "Con, a cushla! get
a hould of her by the head, that's a fine chap; make a spring at the
forelock."
"Maybe she 'd kick--"
"Sorra kick! get up there, now, and I'll be talking to you all the
while."
This proposition, though doubtless meant as most encouraging, by no
means reassured me.
"Come, come! I'll bridle the infernal beast," said the youth, losing
all patience with both of us, and he sprung forward into the stable; but
barely had he time to jump back, as the animal let fly with both hind
legs together. Andy, well aware of what was coming, pulled us both back
and shut to the door, against which the hoofs kept up one rattling din
of kicks that shook the crazy edifice from roof to ground.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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