John Cheap, the Chapman's Library. Vol. 1: Comic and Humorous: The Scottish Chap Literature of Last Century, ClassifiedGraham, Dougal
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John Cheap, the Chapman's Library. Vol. 1: Comic and Humorous: The Scottish Chap Literature of Last Century, Classified
Graham, Dougal
Chapbooks, Scottish; English literature -- 18th century; Graham, Dougal, 1724-1779; Popular literature -- Scotland
‘Well, we had every thing of the best, and plenty of it; and we
ate, and we drank, and we danced, and the young master by the same
token danced with Peggy Barry, from the Bothereen--a lovely young
couple they were, though they are both long enough now. To make
a long story short, I got, as a body may say, the same thing as
tipsy almost, for I can’t remember ever at all, no ways, how I left
the place; only I did leave it that’s certain. Well, I thought,
for all that, in myself, I’d just step to Molly Cronohan’s, the
fairy woman, to speak a word about the bracket heifer that was
bewitched; and so as I was crossing the stepping stones at the ford
of Ballyashenogh, and was looking up at the stars and blessing
myself--for why? it was Lady-day.--I missed my foot, and souse I
fell into the water. ‘Death alive!’ thought I, ‘I’ll be drowned
now!’ However, I began swimming, swimming, swimming away for the
dear life, till at last I got ashore, somehow or other, but never
the one of me can tell how, upon a dissolute island.
‘I wandered and wandered about there, without knowing where I
wandered, until at last I got into a big bog. The moon was shining
as bright as day, or your fair lady’s eyes, sir, (with your pardon
for mentioning her,) and I looked east and west, and north and
south, and every way, and nothing did I see but bog, bog, bog; I
could never find out how I got into it, and my heart grew cold
with fear, for sure and certain I was that it would be my barrin
place. So I sat down upon a stone which, as good luck would have
it, was close by me, and I began to scratch my head and sing the
Ullagon--when all of a sudden the moon grew black, and I looked
up, and saw something for all the world as if it was moving down
between me and it, and I could not tell what it was. Down it came
with a pounce, and looked at me full in the face; and what was
it but an eagle? as fine a one as ever flew from the kingdom of
Kerry. So he looked at me in the face, and says he to me, ‘Daniel
O’Rourke,’ says he, ‘how do you do?’ ‘Very well, I thank you,
sir,’ says I: ‘I hope you’re well;’ wondering out of my senses all
the time how an eagle came to speak like a Christian. ‘What brings
you here, Dan?’ says he. ‘Nothing at all, sir,’ says I: ‘only I
wish I was safe home again.’ ‘Is it out of the island you want to
go, Dan?’ says he. ‘’Tis sir,’ says I: so I up and told him how I
had taken a drop too much, and fell into the water; how I swam to
the island; and how I got into the bog and did not know my way out
of it. ‘Dan,’ says he, after a minute’s thought, ‘though it is very
improper for you to get drunk on Lady-day, yet as you are a decent
sober man, who tends mass well, and never flings stones at me or
mine, nor cries out after us in the fields--my life for yours,’
says he; ‘so get up on my back, and grip me well for fear you’d
fall off, and I’ll fly you out of the bog,’--I am afraid, says I,
your honour’s making game of me; for who ever heard of riding a
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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