The Emigrants Of Ahadarra: The Works of William Carleton, Volume TwoCarleton, William
General
The Emigrants Of Ahadarra: The Works of William Carleton, Volume Two
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
The Hogans, who seldom missed a Wake, Dance, Cockfight or any other
place of amusement or tumult, were not present, we need scarcely assure
our readers, at the wake-house of Mrs. M'Mahon. On that night they and
Teddy Phats were all sitting in their usual domicile, the kiln, already
mentioned, expecting Hycy, when the following brief dialogue took place,
previous to his appearance:
“What keeps this lad, Hycy?” said Bat; “an' a complate lad is in his
coat, when he has it on him. Troth I have my doubts whether this same
gentleman is to be depended on.”
“Gentleman, indeed,” exclaimed Philip, “nothing short of that will sarve
him, shure. To be depinded on, Bat! Why, thin, its more than I'd like to
say. Howanever, he's as far in, an' farther than we are.”
“There's no use in our quarrelin' wid him,” said Phats, in his natural
manner. “If he's in our power, we're in his; an' you know he could
soon make the counthry too hot to hold us. Along wid all, too, he's as
revengeful as the dioule himself, if not a thrifle more so.”
“If he an' Kathleen gets bothered together,” said Philip, “'twould be a
good look up for us, at any rate.”
Kate Hogan was the only female present, the truth being that Philip and
Ned were both widowers, owing, it was generally believed, to the brutal
treatment which their unfortunate wives received at their hands.
“Don't quarrel wid him,” said she, “if you can, at any rate, till we get
him more in our power, an' that he'll be soon, maybe. If we fall out
wid him, we'd have to lave the place, an' maybe to go farther than we
intend, too. Wherever we went over the province, this you know was our
headquarters. Here's where all belongin' to us--I mane that ever died a
natural death, or drew their last breath in the counthry--rests, an' I'd
not like to go far from it.”
“Let what will happen,” said Philip, with an oath, “I'd lose my right
arm before Bryan M'Mahon puts a ring on Kathleen.”
“I can tell you that Hycy has no notion of marry in' her, thin,” said
Kate.
“How do you know that?” asked her husband.
“I've a little bird that tells me,” she replied.
“Gerald Cavanagh an' his wife doesn't think so,” said Philip. “They and
Jemmy Burke has the match nearly made.”
“They may make the match,” said Kate, “but it's more than they'll be
able to do to make the marriage. Hycy's at greater game, I tell you; but
whether he is or not, I tell you again that Bryan M'Mahon will have her
in spite of all opposition.”
“May be not,” said Phats; “Hycy will take care o' that; he has him set;
he'll work him a charm; he'll take care that Bryan won't be long in a
fit way to offer himself as a match for her.”
“More power to him in that,” said Philip; “if he makes a beggarman of
him he may depend on us to the back-bone.”
“Have no hand in injurin' Bryan M'Mahon,” said Kate. “Keep him from
marryin' Kathleen if you like, or if you can; but, if you're wise, don't
injure the boy.”
“Why so?” asked Philip.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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