Among the Mermaids

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Among the Mermaids Page 14

by Varla Ventura


  did he wish himself sitting at home by the fire

  -

  Coomara’s Calling

  169

  side with Biddy. Yet where was the use of wishing now, when

  he was so many miles, as he thought, below the waves of

  the Atlantic? Still he held hard by the Merrow’s tail, slippery

  as it was; and, at last, to Jack’s great surprise, they got out

  of the water, and he actually found himself on dry land at

  the bottom of the sea. They landed just

  in front of a nice house that was slated

  very neatly with oyster shells! and the

  Merrow, turning about to Jack, wel-

  comed him down.

  Jack could hardly speak,

  what with wonder, and what

  with being out of breath with

  travelling so fast through the water.

  He looked about him and could

  see no living things, barring crabs

  and lobsters, of which there were

  plenty walking leisurely about

  on the sand. Overhead was the

  sea like a sky, and the fishes like

  birds swimming about in it.

  “Why don’t you speak, man?” said the Merrow: “I dare

  say you had no notion that I had such a snug little concern

  here as this? Are you smothered, or choked, or drowned, or

  are you fretting after Biddy, eh?”

  Among the Mermaids

  170

  “Oh! not myself indeed,” said Jack, showing his teeth

  with a good-humoured grin; “but who in the world would

  ever have thought of seeing such a thing?”

  “Well, come along, and let’s see what they’ve got for us

  to eat?”

  Jack really was hungry, and it gave him no small pleasure

  to perceive a fine column of smoke rising from the chimney,

  announcing what was going on within. Into the house he

  followed the Merrow, and there he saw a good kitchen, right

  well provided with everything. There was a noble dresser,

  and plenty of pots and pans, with two young Merrows cook-

  ing. His host then led him into the

  room, which was furnished shab-

  bily enough. Not a table or a chair

  was there in it; nothing but planks

  and logs of wood to sit on, and eat

  off. There was, however, a good fire

  blazing upon the hearth—a com-

  fortable sight to Jack.

  “Come now, and I’ll show you

  where I keep—you know what,” said the Merrow, with a sly

  look; and opening a little door, he led Jack into a fine cellar,

  well filled with pipes, and kegs, and hogsheads, and barrels.

  “What do you say to that, Jack Dogherty? Eh! May be a

  body can’t live snug under the water?”

  Overhead was

  the sea like a sky,

  and the fishes like

  birds swimming

  about in it.

  Coomara’s Calling

  171

  “Never the doubt of that,” said Jack, with a convincing

  smack of his upper lip, that he really thought what he said.

  They went back to the room, and found dinner laid.

  There was no tablecloth, to be sure—but what matter? It

  was not always Jack had one at home. The dinner would

  have been no discredit to the first house of the country on a

  fast day. The choicest of fish, and no wonder, was there. Tur-

  bots, and sturgeons, and soles, and lobsters, and oysters, and

  twenty other kinds, were on the planks at once, and plenty

  of the best of foreign spirits. The wines, the old fellow said,

  were too cold for his stomach.

  Jack ate and drank till he could eat no more: then taking

  up a shell of brandy, “Here’s to your honour’s good health, sir,”

  said he; “though, begging you pardon, it’s mighty odd that as

  long as we’ve been acquainted I don’t know your name yet.”

  “That’s true, Jack,” replied he; “I never thought of it be-

  fore, but better late than never. My name’s Coomara.”

  “And a mighty decent name it is,” cried Jack, taking an-

  other shellfull: “here’s to your good health, Coomara, and

  may ye live these fifty years to come!”

  “Fifty years!” repeated Coomara;

  “I’m obliged to you, indeed! If you

  had said five hundred, it

  would have been something

  worth the wishing.”

  Among the Mermaids

  172

  “By the laws, sir,” cried Jack, “

  youz

  live to a powerful age

  here under the water! You knew my grandfather, and he’s

  dead and gone better than these sixty years. I’m sure it must

  be a healthy place to live in.”

  “No doubt of it; but come, Jack, keep the liquor stirring.”

  Shell after shell did they empty, and to Jack’s exceeding

  surprise, he found the drink never got into his head, owing,

  I suppose, to the sea being over them, which kept their nod-

  dles cool.

  Old Coomara got exceedingly comfortable, and sung

  several songs; but Jack, if his life had depended on it, never

  could remember more than

  “Rum fum boodle boo,

  Ripple dipple nitty dob;

  Dumdoo doodle coo,

  Raffle taffle chittiboo!”

  Coomara’s Calling

  173

  It was the chorus to one of them; and, to say the truth, no-

  body that I know has ever been able to pick any particular

  meaning out of it; but that, to be sure, is the case with many

  a song nowadays.

  At length said he to Jack, “Now, my dear boy, if you fol-

  low me, I’ll show you my

  curiosities

  !” He opened a little door,

  and led Jack into a large room, where Jack saw a great many

  odds and ends that Coomara had picked up at one time

  or another. What chiefy took his attention, however, were

  things like lobsterpots ranged on the ground along the wall.

  “Well, Jack, how do you like my

  curiosities

  ?” said old Coo.

  “Upon my

  sowkins

  , sir,” said Jack, “they’re mighty well

  worth the looking at; but might I make so bold as to ask

  what these things like lobster-pots are?”

  “Oh! the Soul Cages, is it?”

  “The what? sir!”

  “These things here that I keep the souls in.”

  “

  Arrah

  ! What souls, sir?” said Jack, in amazement; “sure

  the fish have no souls in them?”

  “Oh! no,” replied Coo, quite coolly, “that they have not;

  but these are the souls of drowned sailors.”

  “The Lord preserve us from all harm!” muttered Jack,

  “how in the world did you get them?”

  “Easily enough: I’ve only, when I see a good storm com-

  ing on, to set a couple of dozen of these, and then, when the

  Among the Mermaids

  174

  sailors are drowned and the souls get out of them under the

  water, the poor things are almost perished to death, not being

  used to the cold; so they make into my pots for shelter, and

  then I have them snug, and fetch them home, and is it not

  well for them, poor souls, to get into such goo
d quarters?”

  Jack was so thunderstruck he did not know what to say,

  so he said nothing. They went back into the dining-room,

  and had a little more brandy, which was excellent, and then,

  as Jack knew that it must be getting late, and as Biddy might

  be uneasy, he stood up, and said he thought it was time for

  him to be on the road.

  “Just as you like, Jack,” said Coo,

  “but take a

  duc an durrus

  before

  you go; you’ve a cold journey before

  you.”

  Jack knew better manners than

  to refuse the parting glass.

  “I wonder,” said he, “will I be able to make out my way

  home?”

  “What should ail you,” said Coo, “when I’ll show you the

  way?”

  Out they went before the house, and Coomara took one

  of the cocked hats, and put it upon Jack’s head the wrong

  way, and then lifted him up on his shoulder that he might

  launch him up into the water.

  “But these are the

  souls of drowned

  sailors.”

  Coomara’s Calling

  175

  “Now,” says he, giving him a heave, “you’ll come up just in

  the same spot you came down in; and, Jack, mind and throw

  me back the hat.”

  He canted Jack off his shoulder, and up he shot like a

  bubble—whirr, whif, whiz—away he went up through the

  water, till he came to the very rock he had jumped off where

  he found a landing-place, and then in he threw the hat, which

  sunk like a stone.

  The sun was just going down in the beau-

  tiful sky of a calm summer’s evening.

  Feas-

  cor

  was seen dimly twinkling in the cloudless

  heaven, a solitary star, and the waves of the

  Atlantic flashed in a golden flood of light. So

  Jack, perceiving it was late, set off home; but when he got

  there, not a word did he say to Biddy of where he had spent

  his day.

  The state of the poor souls cooped up in the lobster-pots

  gave Jack a great deal of trouble, and how to release them

  cost him a great deal of thought. He at first had a mind to

  speak to the priest about the matter. But what could the

  priest do, and what did Coo care for the priest? Besides, Coo

  was a good sort of an old fellow, and did not think he was

  doing any harm. Jack had a regard for him, too, and it also

  might not be much to his own credit if it were known that he

  used to go dine with Merrows. On the whole, he thought his

  Among the Mermaids

  176

  best plan would be to ask Coo to dinner, and to make him

  drunk, if he was able, and then to take the hat and go down

  and turn up the pots. It was, first of all, necessary, however,

  to get Biddy out of the way; for Jack was prudent enough, as

  she was a woman, to wish to keep the thing secret from her.

  Accordingly, Jack grew mighty pious all of a sudden, and

  said to Biddy that he thought it would be for the good of

  both their souls if she was to go and take her rounds at Saint

  John’s Well, near Ennis. Biddy thought so too, and accord-

  ingly off she set one fine morning at day-dawn, giving Jack

  a strict charge to have an eye to the place. The coast being

  clear, away went Jack to the rock to give the appointed signal

  to Coomara, which was throwing a big stone into the water.

  Jack threw, and up sprang Coo!

  “Good morning, Jack,” said he; “what do you want

  with me?”

  Coomara’s Calling

  177

  “Just nothing at all to speak about, sir,” returned Jack,

  “only to come and take a bit of dinner with me, if I might

  make so free as to ask you, and sure I’m now after doing so.”

  “It’s quite agreeable, Jack, I assure you; what’s your hour?”

  “Any time that’s most convenient to you, sir—say one

  o’clock, that you may go home, if you wish, with the daylight.”

  “I’ll be with you,” said Coo, “never fear me.”

  Jack went home, and dressed a noble fish dinner, and got

  out plenty of his best foreign spirits, enough, for that matter,

  to make twenty men drunk. Just to the minute came Coo,

  with his cocked hat under his arm. Dinner was ready, they

  sat down, and ate and drank away manfully. Jack, thinking

  of the poor souls below in the pots, plied old Coo well with

  brandy, and encouraged him to sing, hoping to put him un-

  der the table, but poor Jack forgot that he had not the sea

  over his head to keep it cool. The brandy got into it, and did

  his business for him, and Coo reeled off home, leaving his

  entertainer as dumb as a haddock on a Good Friday.

  Jack never woke till the next morning, and then he was

  in a sad way. “’This to no use for me thinking to make that

  old Rapparee drunk,” said Jack, “and how in this world can I

  help the poor souls out of the lobster-pots?” After ruminat-

  ing nearly the whole day, a thought struck him. “I have it,”

  says he, slapping his knee; “I’ll be sworn that Coo never saw

  a drop of

  poteen

  , as old as he is, and that’s the

  thing

  to settle

  Among the Mermaids

  178

  him! Oh! then, is not it well that Biddy will not be home

  these two days yet; I can have another twist at him.”

  Jack asked Coo again, and Coo laughed at him for hav-

  ing no better head, telling him he’d never come up to his

  grandfather.

  “Well, but try me again,” said Jack, “and I’ll be bail to

  drink you drunk and sober, and drunk again.”

  “Anything in my power,” said Coo, “to oblige you.”

  At this dinner Jack took care to have his own liquor well

  watered, and to give the strongest brandy he had to Coo. At

  last says he, “Pray, sir, did you ever drink any poteen?—any

  real mountain dew?”

  “No,” says Coo; “what’s that, and where does it come

  from?”

  “Oh, that’s a secret,” said Jack, “but it’s the right stuff—

  never believe me again, if ’tis not fifty times as good as brandy

  Coomara’s Calling

  179

  or rum either. Biddy’s brother just sent me a present of a

  little drop, in exchange for some brandy, and as you’re an old

  friend of the family, I kept it to treat you with.”

  “Well, let’s see what sort of thing it is,” said Coomara.

  The

  poteen

  was the right sort. It was first-rate, and had

  the real smack upon it. Coo was delighted: he drank and he

  sung

  Rum bum boodle boo

  over and over again; and

  he laughed and he danced, till he fell on the floor

  fast asleep. Then Jack, who had taken good care

  to keep himself sober, snapt up the cocked hat—

  ran off to the rock—leaped, and soon arrived

  at Coo’s habitation.

  All was as still as a churchyard at mid-

  night—not a Merrow, old or young, was there. In

  he went and turne
d up the pots, but nothing did he see, only

  he heard a sort of a little whistle or chirp as he raised each

  of them. At this he was surprised, till he recollected what

  the priests had often said, that nobody living could see the

  soul, no more than they could see the wind or the air. Having

  now done all that he could for them, he set the pots as they

  were before, and sent a blessing after the poor souls to speed

  them on their journey wherever they were going. Jack now

  began to think of returning; he put the hat on, as was right,

  the wrong way; but when he got out he found the water so

  high over his head that he had no hopes of ever getting up

  Among the Mermaids

  180

  into it, now that he had not old Coomara to give him a lift.

  He walked about looking for a ladder, but not one could he

  find, and not a rock was there in sight. At last he saw a spot

  where the sea hung rather lower than anywhere else, so he

  resolved to try there. Just as he came to it, a big cod happened

  to put down his tail. Jack made a jump and caught hold of

  it, and the cod, all in amazement, gave a bounce and pulled

  Jack up. The minute the hat touched the water away Jack was

  whisked, and up he shot like a cork, dragging the poor cod,

  that he forgot to let go, up with him tail foremost. He got to

  the rock in no time and without a moment’s delay hurried

  home, rejoicing in the good deed he had done.

  But, meanwhile, there was fine work at home; for our

  friend Jack had hardly left the house on his soul-freeing ex-

  pedition, when back came Biddy from her soul-saving one

  to the well. When she entered the house and saw the things

  lying

  thrie-na-helah

  on the table before her—“Here’s a pret-

  ty job!” said she; “that blackguard of mine—what ill-luck I

  had ever to marry him! He has picked up some vagabond or

  other, while I was praying for the good of his soul, and they’ve

  been drinking all the

  poteen

  that my own brother gave him,

  and all the spirits, to be sure, that he was to have sold to

  his honour.” Then hearing an outlandish kind of grunt, she

  looked down, and saw Coomara lying under the table. “The

 

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