Stories of Red HanrahanYeats, W. B. (William Butler)
General
Stories of Red Hanrahan
Yeats, W. B. (William Butler)
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
There were a good many neighbours gathered in the house, and some of
them remembered Hanrahan; but some of the little lads that were in the
corners had only heard of him, and they stood up to have a view of him,
and one of them said: 'Is not that Hanrahan that had the school, and
that was brought away by Them?' But his mother put her hand over his
mouth and bade him be quiet, and not be saying things like that. 'For
Hanrahan is apt to grow wicked,' she said, 'if he hears talk of that
story, or if anyone goes questioning him.' One or another called out
then, asking him for a song, but the man of the house said it was no
time to ask him for a song, before he had rested himself; and he gave
him whiskey in a glass, and Hanrahan thanked him and wished him good
health and drank it off.
The fiddler was tuning his fiddle for another dance, and the man of the
house said to the young men, they would all know what dancing was like
when they saw Hanrahan dance, for the like of it had never been seen
since he was there before. Hanrahan said he would not dance, he had
better use for his feet now, travelling as he was through the five
provinces of Ireland. Just as he said that, there came in at the
half-door Oona, the daughter of the house, having a few bits of bog deal
from Connemara in her arms for the fire. She threw them on the hearth
and the flame rose up, and showed her to be very comely and smiling,
and two or three of the young men rose up and asked for a dance. But
Hanrahan crossed the floor and brushed the others away, and said it was
with him she must dance, after the long road he had travelled before he
came to her. And it is likely he said some soft word in her ear, for she
said nothing against it, and stood out with him, and there were little
blushes in her cheeks. Then other couples stood up, but when the dance
was going to begin, Hanrahan chanced to look down, and he took notice of
his boots that were worn and broken, and the ragged grey socks showing
through them; and he said angrily it was a bad floor, and the music no
great things, and he sat down in the dark place beside the hearth. But
if he did, the girl sat down there with him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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