The Bunsby Papers (second series): Irish Echoes

by John Brougham

  CHAPTER IV.

  "Oft do we envy those whose lot, if known, Would prove to be less kindly than our own."

  The change accomplished by the embodied wishes of the two discontentedmortals was, to all appearance, perfect. They bore, indeed, the outwardsemblance each of the other, but yet retained their own individualthoughts, feelings, and inclinations; and manifold, as may be imagined,were the embarrassments and annoyances consequent upon this strangeduality, to the great mystification of their respective households.

  The morning after the singular compact was made, the more than usuallyoutrageous conduct of the supposed Bulworthy placed the establishmentin the greatest possible uproar, for the nerves and sinews of theimprisoned Dan, wholly unacquainted, ere this, with any ailment otherthan the emptiness of hunger, or the occasional headache whiskypurchased, now twisted and stretched with the sharper agonies laid upby his predecessor, lashed him into an absolute hurricane of fury.Unable to move his nether extremities, he gnashed his teeth, ventinghis rage by smashing everything that he could reach.

  This terrible turmoil reached the ears of the domestics, filling themwith apprehension.

  "Be good to us," said Mary. "What is it now?"

  "Ora, don't ax me," replied Barney, who had just come down from thecaged lion. "It's fairly bewildhered I am, out an' out; I wouldn'twondher av it was burn the house about our ears he would, in one of histanthrums."

  "What's worryin' him now?"

  "Faix, the misthress is at the head ov it, an' the gout's at the feet,an', between the two, I wouldn't be surprised av his thrunk was imptiedafore long."

  Up stairs the tempest raged with undiminished fury.

  "I tell you I won't, I won't," roared the impatient patient. "I nevercould taste a dhrop of physic in my life."

  "Oh, my! what a fib," said his consoler, the sweet-voiced Mrs.Bulworthy. "Why, you've swallowed enough to kill a regiment of decentpeople. Indeed, I don't know what's come over you to day, at all;you're not a bit like yourself."

  "The devil I'm not," said the other, somewhat alarmed; but a glance athis swathed extremities, accompanied by a spasm of pain, gave himuncomfortable assurance that he was still in the Squire's skin. "Bedad,ma'm," he went on, "if you and the gout ain't enough to drive a man outof himself, I don't know what would; get out, I tell you, and leave mealone; one at a time's enough."

  "Will you promise to read this tract, then?"

  "It's a mighty fine time to talk about readin'. How much money am Iworth?"

  "You surely don't forget that, Pether?"

  "Well, indeed, what with the pain and other little matters, it hasslipped my memory."

  "Just eight thousand six hundred pounds."

  "As much as that? murdher alive! you don't say so; then let us pack upand be off," cried he, with an injudicious bound of pleasure thatbrought the corkscrew into his joints with redoubled acuteness.

  "Go, where?" inquired Mrs. Bulworthy, as coolly as though she wereenjoying the agony which revelled through his racked frame.

  "Anywhere," screamed he. "Anywhere out of this vagabone neighborhood.Ah! tear an aiges av I thought I was going to be massacreed in thisway, I'd a stayed as I was; it's to the very marrow of my bones thatI'm sorry for it now."

  "Sorry for what, Pether?" said Mrs. Bulworthy; "what in the name ofgracious are you raving about?"

  "Nothing," replied he, "only it's ravin' with the hunger I am; I feelas if I hadn't had anything to eat for six weeks or more."

  "Sure, won't you have something in a few minutes," said she. "There'sthe turtle soup and curried lobster you ordered for lunch getting readyas fast as it can."

  "You don't tell me that; may-be I won't astonish it then," said he,smacking his lips at the delicious anticipation of devouring dishesthat, to him, were hitherto apocryphal things.

  "Is there anything else you want before I go?"

  "Nothing in the world, except, may-be, you might just run over the wayand see how Mrs. Duff and the babby is."

  "Heigh-day!" screamed Mrs. Bulworthy, bestowing upon him one of hermost indignant glances. "I'd like to know what business you have to bethinking of Mrs. Duff and her babby!"

  "Would you, really, ma'm? then, if your curiosity is anyway tickled,I'll have you to understand that it's a mighty high regard I entertainfor them two people," replied he.

  "You do, do you? why, then, it's a face you have to say that same tome, you dirty, miserable, money-scrapin' ignoramus; me, that took suchcare of your body and sowl for so many years."

  "Read one of your papers, ma'm; practice what you preach," suggestedthe fictitious Bulworthy.

  "How would you look if I was to say that I had a regard for the cobblerhimself, since you're so mightily interested in his wife?" said she,with an injured-woman air and look.

  "Say, ma'm! Bedad, I'd say that the cobbler isn't such a fool as toreturn the compliment," replied the other, in a provoking tone, thatmade the eyes of Mrs. Bulworthy flash green like those of a cat in thedark.

  "I'm not so sure of that," she retorted, with a meaning toss of herfallacious curls, that implied unspeakable things.

  "But I _am_, you see, strange as it may appear, ma'm," he went on, witha jolly laugh, strangled suddenly by a gouty pang that made him roaragain.

  "Serve you right, you ungrateful reprobate; I saw you this morningflinging your good-for-nothing eyes at the jade; but I'll serve you outfor it, see if I don't; you shall have a blessed time, if ever a manhad in the world, you vile, deceitful, double-faced old porcupine;after the years we've been together, too, slavin' and working to scrapeup the bit of money to be the comfort of our old age," she continued,diverging into the sentimental, and dropping a few hard tears, thatfell from her cold eyes like pellets of hail. "You want to break myheart, you do, you murderer, that you may follow your wicked coorseswithout hendrance. Mrs. Duff and her babby; indeed, _her_ babby! how doI know who's babby it is?" and she looked green-eyed monsters at thesupposititious Squire, who heightened her fiery temper up toexplosion-point, by replying, with a chuckle.

  "Faix, the babby's mine, I b'leeve."

  Now be it understood that, for the instant, his disputable identity wasforgotten, and it was all _Dan_ that spoke:

  "Yours," shrieked the now infuriated female, making a threateningdemonstration towards him.

  "Yes--no--I mean--oh, murdher, I forgot I was ould Bulworthy for aminnit. It's a rise I was takin' out of you, that's all," he went on,"just for the fun of the thing."

  The further discussion of this delicate subject was put a stop to bythe entrance of Barney and Mary with the Squire's lunch; a verygratifying and timely interruption to the stormy _tete-a-tete_, in theopinion of one of the party, at all events.

  The delicious condiments being duly served, from which arose anappetizing odor, stimulating Dan's appetite into ravenous hunger,"Won't you sit down, ma'm," said he, "and take a mouthful?"

  "Indeed, and it's polite you are, all of a sudden. You never asked thelike before, but was always glad enough to get me out of sight that youmight gormandize to your heart's content," replied she, acrimoniously."But it's a sure sign that you are guilty of something wrong somewhere,with somebody, or you wouldn't be so extra accommodating."

  "Sit down, and howld yer prate," cried the other, anxious to attack thetempting viands.

  "I won't, you ould sinner. I know you don't want me, it's only yourconscience that's giving you no rest. I'll leave you to stuff and cram,and I only wish it was pison, that I do." With this pleasantobservation, hissed viperously through her closed teeth, she flouncedout of the room, giving the door a parting bang that sent an electricshock of pain through poor Dan's nervous system.

  "Oh! milliah murdher," groaned he, "an' this is the agreeable specimentof a walkin' vinegar-cruet, that I left my scanty but comfortable home,and the angel that made a heaven of it, for. Well, the fools ain't allgone yet--but, never mind, isn't there the money and the eatin'; so,here goes to have a feed that 'ud take the concate out of a hungryeleph
ant."

  So saying, he lifted off the cover, and plunged the ladle into thesteaming tureen, when, to his enormous surprise, instead of the savorymess he anticipated, he fished up and deposited upon his plate, theidentical little jockey before described, spurs and all.

  "How are you, Mr. Duff?" said he, touching his cap in true stablestyle, as he seated himself upon the raised edge of the soup-plate.

  "You have the advantage of me, sir," replied Dan, reverentially, for hewas a firm believer in "the good people," that is to say, the fairies,and dreaded the immensity of their power.

  "We haven't met before, to be sure," said the little fellow, "but yousee I know who you are, in spite of that fleshy stuffing you have gotinto."

  "Bedad, there's no mistake about that, sir," replied Dan. "Would it betoo great a liberty to ax what it is I'm indebted to for the honor ofyour company at this particular time?"

  "Certainly not, Dan. The fact is, between you and me, I'm alwayspresent where there's such good cheer to be found as I see before me."

  "Indeed, sir, an' would it inconvenience you much to sit somewhereelse, for I'm mortial hungry at this present minit, an' I'm afeard I'dbe splashin' your boots with the gravy."

  "Anything to oblige," said the other, jumping over the edge of theplate, like a four-year old.

  "Thank you, sir. I'll do as much for you, provided it's in my power,"observed the hungry cobbler, drawing nearer a huge dish of curriedlobster, the spice-laden steam from which would create a new appetitein repletion's self. Heaping up his plate, while his mouth filled withwater at the glorious sight, he was just about to shovel a vastquantity into his capacious mouth, when a sharp

  "Stop, Dan!" from the little jockey, arrested his hand mid-way.

  "Do you know the result of your eating that mouthful?"

  "Never a bit of me, sir," said Dan, making another movement towards hishead.

  "Ha! wait till I tell you," cried the other.

  Dan stopped again. "This is wonderful tantalizin' to an imptyChristian," said he.

  "Listen, Dan. I have a sort of regard for you, and so I'll give youthis warning: If you swallow that stuff that's overloading yourknife"--Dan wasn't genteel in his eating--"I'll have to ride a hurdlerace upon your big toe, and I'll be bail that I'll make it beat all therest of your anatomy in the way of jumping."

  "You don't mean that?" cried Dan, dropping knife and all into the platebefore him.

  "Every word of it," said the little fellow.

  "Oh, get out! you're not in airnest?"

  "May-be you'd like to try?"

  "Be the mortial o' war, I don't b'leeve you, anyway the hungriness isdrivin' all consequences out of me reckonin', so, here goes, jump or nojump." So, with a desperate recklessness, Dan rushed greedily at theeatables, and never in his life did he eat the tithe part of what hedemolished upon this occasion. Everything on the table disappearedbefore his all-devouring appetite, like smoke, and as the materialswere handy, he topped all up with a "screechin' hot" tumbler ofwhisky-punch, stiff enough to poke courage into any man's heart.

  In the meantime, wholly absorbed in his prodigious banquet, he hadquite lost sight of his friend, the jockey; but now, as with a sigh ofintense satisfaction, he reclined back in the cushioned chair, hebecame sensible of a sort of fidgetiness about his foot, and on lookingdown, what should he see but the little chap, very busy indeed, withhis whip in his mouth, saddling up his big toe, as gingerly as youplease. He was just giving the girth a last pull, which he accompaniedwith the usual jerking expression, making Dan wince a little, from asense of tightness in the nag.

  The business-like manner of the chap, however, soon banished theuncomfortable feeling, and so excited Dan's risibilities, that thetears rolled down his cheeks with uncontrollable laughter. It isastonishing how very near the surface the leverage of a good dinner anda warm "tod," lifts up one's jolly feelings.

  Dan was now in a condition to sign a treaty of perpetual amity with allmankind.

  Delusive tranquillity!

  "Mount," cried the little rider, jumping into his saddle. "Hurrah! offwe go! heigh!"

  The first slash of the whip and dig of the spur changed the nature ofDan's emotions most effectually. He roared, he raged, he twisted aboutlike an eel on a spear. Still fiercely and unmercifully the littlejockey plied the lash and the goad. Still he shouted, "Hurrah! jump,you devil, jump!"

  Now, Dan swore like a rapparee; now, he called upon every saint in thecalendar; but there was no cessation to his torture. In the extremityof his fury, he flung the whisky-bottle at the little rider's head; butas it struck his own foot, it only augmented the terrible agony.

  From praying and swearing he fell to weeping, but the stony-heartedlittle tyrant was not assailable by tears or entreaties. Promises ofamendment were equally useless; until, at last, happening to recollectwhat a horror all supernaturals have of the pure element, he seized atumbler of water, and nearly drowned his tormentor with its contents.This had the desired effect. The little vagabond dismounted with ashrill cry of annoyance, and rushed over towards the fire-place, to dryhis soaked garments.

  "Ha, ha! you thief of the world, I know what'll settle your hashnow--wather!" said Dan, instantly relieved from pain; "and, wid ablessin', you shall have enough of that same, if ever you venture tocome hurdle-racin' on any toes o' mine.

  "Stick to that Dan, my hero," said the little fellow, as he shook thedrops off his drenched jacket; "stick to that, and you may depend uponit that I'll never trouble you any more."

  And so, having got rid of his enemy, Dan snuggled himself back into thecomfortable easy-chair, and very soon forgot himself and all the realworld, in the perplexities and comic horrors of a dyspeptic dream.