Ireland -- Fiction; Land League (Ireland) -- Fiction; Land tenure -- Fiction; Political fiction
But in the field no man was better known, or more popular, if
thorough obedience is an element of popularity. The old gentry of
the county could tell why Mr. Daly had been put into his present
situation five-and-twenty years ago; but the manner of his election
was not often talked about. He had no money, and very few acres of
his own on which to preserve foxes. He had never done anything to
earn a shilling since he had been born, unless he may have been said
to have earned shillings by his present occupation. As he got his
living out of it, he certainly may have been said to have done so. He
never borrowed a shilling from any man, and certainly paid his way.
But if he told a young man that he ought to buy a horse the young
man certainly bought it. And if he told a young man that he must pay
a certain price, the young man generally paid it. But if the young
man were not ready with his money by the day fixed, that young man
generally had a bad time of it. Young men have been known to be
driven not only out of County Galway, but out of Ireland itself, by
the tone of Mr. Daly's voice, and by the blackness of his frown. And
yet it was said generally that neither young men nor old men were
injured in their dealings with Mr. Daly. "That horse won't be much
the worse for his splint, and he's worth L70 to you, because you can
ride him ten stone. You had better give me L70 for him." Then the
young man would promise the L70 in three months' time, and if he kept
his word, would swear by Black Daly ever afterwards. In this way Mr.
Daly sold a great many horses.
But he had been put into his present position because he hunted the
hounds, during the illness of a distant cousin, who was the then
master. The master had died, but the county had the best sport that
winter that it had ever enjoyed. "I don't see why I should not do
it, as well as another," Tom Daly had said. He was then known as Tom
Daly. "You've got no money," his cousin had said, the son of the old
gentleman who was just dead. It was well understood that the cousin
wished to have the hounds, but that he was thought not to have all
the necessary attributes. "I suppose the county means to pay for all
sport," said Tom. Then the hat went round, and an annual sum of L900
a year was voted. Since that the hounds have gone on, and the bills
have been paid; and Tom has raised the number of days' hunting to
four a week, or has lowered it to two, according to the amount of
money given. He makes no proposition now, but declares what he means
to do. "Things are dearer," he said last year, "and you won't have
above five days a fortnight, unless you can make the money up to
L1,200. I want L400 a day, and L400 I must have." The county had
then voted him the money in the plenitude of its power, and Daly had
hunted seven days a fortnight. But all the Galway world felt that
there was about to be a fall.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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