John Cheap, the Chapman's Library. Vol. 1: Comic and Humorous: The Scottish Chap Literature of Last Century, Classified — John Shaqi
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
Dan said the eagle. I’m tired with this long fly; I had no notion
’twas so far. And my lord, sir, said I, who in the world axed you
to fly so far--was it I? did not I beg, and pray, and beseech you
to stop half an hour ago? There’s no use talking, Dan, said he; I’m
tired bad enough, so you must get off, and sit down on the moon
until I rest myself. Is it sit down on the moon? said I; is it upon
that little round thing, then? why; then, sure I’d fall off, in a
minute, and be kilt and split, and smashed all to bits; you are a
vile deceiver,--so you are. Not at all, Dan, said he: you can catch
fast hold of the reaping-hook, that’s sticking out of the side of
the moon, and ’twill keep you up. I won’t, then, said I. May be
not, said he, quite quiet. If you don’t, my man, I shall just give
you a shake, and one slap of my wing, and send you down to the
ground, where every bone in your body will be smashed as small as a
drop of dew on a cabbage-leaf in the morning. Why, then, I’m in a
fine way, said I to myself, ever to have come alone with the likes
of you, and so giving him a hearty curse in Irish, for fear he’d
know what I said, I got oft his back with a heavy heart, took a
hold of the reaping-hook, and sat down upon the moon, and a mighty
cold seat it was, I can tell you that.
When he had me there fairly landed, he turned about on me, and
said, Good morning to you, Daniel O’Rourke, said he; I think I’ve
nicked you fairly now. You robbed my nest last year, (’twas true
enough for him, but how he found it out is hard to say,) and in
return you are freely welcome to cool your heels dangling upon the
moon like a cockthrow.
Is that all, and is this the way you leave me, you brute, you? says
I. You ugly unnatural baste, and is this the way you serve me at
last? Bad luck to yourself, with your hooked nose, and to all your
breed, you blackguard. ’Twas all to no manner of use: he spread
out his great big wings, burst out a laughing, and flew away like
lightning. I bawled after him to stop; but I might have called and
bawled for ever, without his minding me. Away he went, and I never
saw him from that day to this--Sorrow fly away with him! You may
be sure I was in a disconsolate condition, and kept roaring out
for the bare grief, when all at once a door opened right in the
middle of the moon, creaking on its hinges as if it had not been
opened for a month before. I suppose they never thought of greasing
’em, and out there walks who do you think but the man in the moon
himself? I knew him by his busk.
Good morrow to you, Daniel O’Rourke, said he; How do you do? Very
well, thank your honour, said I. I hope your honour’s well. What
brought you here, Dan? said he. So I told him how I was a little
overtaken in liquor at the master’s, and how I was cast on a
dissolute island, and how I lost my way in the bog and how the
thief of an eagle promised to fly me out of it, and how instead of
that he had fled me up to the moon.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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