The Poor Scholar: Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of; William Carleton, Volume ThreeCarleton, William
General
The Poor Scholar: Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of; William Carleton, Volume Three
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
When the prayer was over, the boy rose and calmly strapped to his back
a satchel covered with deer-skin, containing a few books, linen, and a
change of very plain apparel. While engaged in this, the uproar of grief
in the house was perfectly heart-rending. When just ready to set out, he
reverently took off his hat, knelt down, and, with tears streaming from
his eyes, craved humbly and meekly the blessing and forgiveness of his
father and mother. The mother caught him in her arms, kissed his lips,
and, kneeling also, sobbed out a fervent benediction upon his head;
the father now, in the grief of a strong man, pressed him to his heart,
until the big burning tears fell upon the boy's face; his brothers
and sisters embraced him wildly; next his more distant relations; and
lastly, the neighbors who were crowded about the door. After this he
took a light staff in his hand, and, first blessing himself after the
form of his church, proceeded to a strange land in quest of education.
He had not gone more than a few perches from the door, when his mother
followed him with a small bottle of holy water. “Jimmy, _a lanna
voght_,” (* my poor child) said she, “here's this, an' carry it about
you--it will keep evil from you; an' be sure to take good care of the
written correckther you got from the priest an' Square Benson; an',
darlin', don't be lookin' too often at the cuff o' your coat, for feard
the people might get a notion that you have the bank-notes sewed in it.
An', Jimmy agra, don't be too lavish upon their Munster crame; they say
it's apt to give people the ague. Kiss me agin, agra; an' the heavens
above keep you safe and well till we see you once more!”
She then tenderly, and still with melancholy pride, settled his shirt
collar, which she thought did not set well about his neck, and kissing
him again, with renewed sorrow left him to pursue his journey.
M'Evoy's house was situated on the side of a dark hill--one of that
barren description which can be called neither inland nor mountain. It
commanded a wide and extended prospect, and the road along which the lad
travelled was visible for a considerable distance from it. On a small
hillock before the door sat Dominek and his wife, who, as long as their
son was visible, kept their eyes, which were nearly blinded with tears,
rivetted upon his person. It was now they gave full vent to their grief,
and discussed with painful and melancholy satisfaction all the excellent
qualities which he possessed. As James himself advanced, one neighbor
after another fell away from the train which accompanied him, not,
however, until they had affectionately embraced and bid him adieu, and
perhaps slipped, with peculiar delicacy, an additional mite into
his waistcoat pocket. After the neighbors, then followed the gradual
separation from his friends--one by one left him, as in the great
journey of life, and in a few hours he found himself accompanied only by
his favorite brother.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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