Confessions Of Con Cregan, the Irish Gil BlasLever, Charles
General
Confessions Of Con Cregan, the Irish Gil Blas
Lever, Charles
Ireland -- Fiction
The more I thought over this subject, the more strongly was I satisfied
that I was correct in my judgment; and, sooth to say, the less did I
respect that condition in life which could deem any man too poor to be
high-minded.
Sir Dudley's anticipations were all correct. The following evening at
sunset the great headlands of the south of Ireland were seen, at first
clear, and at last like hazy fogbanks; while our light vessel scudded
along, her prow pointing to where the sun had just set behind the
horizon; and then did I learn that we were bound for North America.
Our voyage for some weeks was undistinguished by any feature of unusual
character. The weather was uniformly fine; steady breezes from the
northeast, with a clear sky and a calm sea, followed us as we went, so
that, in the pleasant monotony of our lives, one day exactly resembled
another. It will, therefore, suffice if, in a few words, I tell how
the hours were passed. Sir Dudley came on deck after breakfast, when I
spread out a large white bear's skin for him to lie upon; reclined
on which, and with a huge meerschaum of great beauty in his hand,
he smoked, and watched the lions at play. These gambols were always
amusing, and never failed to assemble all the crew to witness them.
Jarasch, dressed in a light woollen tunic, with legs, arms, and neck
bare, led them forth by a chain; and, after presenting them to Sir
Dudley, from whose hands they usually received a small piece of sugar,
they were then set at liberty,--a privilege they soon availed themselves
of, setting off at full speed around the deck, sometimes one in pursuit
of the other, sometimes by different ways, crossing and recrossing each
other; now with a bold spring, now with cat-like stealthiness, creeping
slowly past. The exercise, far from fatiguing, seemed only to excite
them more and more, since all this time they were in search of the
food which Jarasch, with a cunning all his own, knew how, each day, to
conceal in some new fashion. Baffled and irritated by delay, the eyes
grew red and lustrous, the tails stiffened, and were either carried
high over the back or extended straight backwards; they contracted their
necks too, till the muscles were gathered up in thick massive folds, and
then their great heads seemed actually fastened on the fore part of the
trunk. When their rage had been sufficiently whetted by delay, Jarasch
would bring forth the mess in a large "grog tub," covered with a massive
lid, on which seating himself, and armed with a short stout bludgeon, he
used to keep the beasts at bay. This, which was the most exciting part
of the spectacle, presented every possible variety of combat. Sometimes
he could hold them in check for nigh half-an-hour, sometimes the
struggle would scarce last five minutes. Now, he would, by a successful
stroke, so intimidate one of his assailants that he could devote all his
energies against the other. Now, by a simultaneous attack, the savage
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account