It was a characteristic Irish ruin. Standing on a slight elevation, in the midst of a flat country, the castle lifted its turreted walls as proudly as when its ramparts were fringed with banners and glittered with helmets and shields. In olden times it was the citadel of the town, and although Athenry was fortified by a strong wall, protecting it alike from predatory assault and organized attack, the citadel, occupying the highest ground within the city, was itself surrounded by stronger walls, a fort within a fort, making assurance of security doubly sure. Only by treachery, surprise, or regular and long-continued siege could the castle have been taken.
The central portion was a large, square structure; except in size, not differing greatly from the isolated castles found in all parts of Ireland, and always in pairs, as if, when one Irish chieftain built a castle, his rival at once erected another a mile or so away, for the purpose of holding him in check. This central fort was connected by double walls, the remains of[pg 002] covered passages, with smaller fortresses, little castles built into the wall surrounding the citadel; and over these connecting walls, over the little castles, and over the piles of loose stones where once the strong outer walls had stood, the ivy grew in luxuriant profusion, throwing its dark green curtain on the unsightly masses, rounding the sharp edge of the masonry, hiding the rough corners as though ashamed of their roughness, and climbing the battlements of the central castle to spread nature's mantle of charity over the remains of a barbarous age, and forever conceal from human view the stony reminders of battle and blood.
The success of the ivy was not complete. Here and there the corner of a battlement stood out in sharp relief, as though it had pushed back the struggling plant, and, by main force, had risen above the leaves, while on one side a round tower lifted itself as if to show that a stone tower could stand for six hundred years without permitting itself to become ivy-grown; that there could be individuality in towers as among men. The great arched gateway too was not entirely subjugated, though the climbing tendrils and velvety leaves dressed the pillars and encroached on the arch. The keystone bore a rudely carved, crowned head, and ivy vines, coming up underneath the arch, to take the old king by surprise, climbed the bearded chin, crossed the lips, and were playing before the nose as if to give it a sportive tweak, while the stern brow frowned in anger at the plant's presumption.
But only a few surly crags of the citadel refused to go gracefully into the retirement furnished by the ivy, and the loving plant softened every outline, filled up every crevice, bridged the gaps in the walls, toned down the rudeness of projecting stones, and did everything that an ivy-plant could do to make the rugged old castle as presentable as were the[pg 003] high rounded mounds without the city, cast up by the besiegers when the enemy last encamped against it.
The old castle had fallen on evil days, for around the walls of the citadel clustered the miserable huts of the modern Irish village. The imposing castle gate faced a lane, muddy and foul with the refuse thrown from the houses. The ivy-mantled towers looked down upon earth and stone huts, with thatched roofs, low chimneys, and doors seeming as if the builder designed them for windows and changed his mind without altering their size, but simply continued them to the ground and made them answer the purpose. A population, notable chiefly for its numerousness and lack of cleanliness,[pg 004] presented itself at every door, but little merriment was heard in the alleys of Athenry.
"Sure it's mighty little they have to laugh at," said the car-man. "Indade, the times has changed fur the counthry, Sorr. Wanst Ireland was as full o' payple as a Dublin sthrate, an' they was all as happy as a grazin' colt, an' as paceful as a basket av puppies, barrin' a bit o' fun at a marryin' or a wake, but thim times is all gone. Wid the landlords, an' the guver'mint, an' the sojers, an' the polis, lettin' in the rich an' turnin' out the poor, Irishmin is shtarvin' to death. See that bit av a cabin there, Sorr? Sure there's foorteen o' thim in it, an' two pigs, an' tin fowls; they all shlape togather on a pile av wet shtraw in the corner, an' sorra a wan o' thim knows where the bit in the mornin' is to come from. Phat do they ate? They're not in the laste purtickler. Spakin' ginerally, whatever they can get. They've pitaties an' milk, an' sometimes pitaties an' no milk, an' av a Sunday a bit o' mate that's a herrin', an' not a boot to the fut o' thim, an' they paddlin' in the wather on the flure. Sure the town's full o' thim an' the likes av thim. Begorra, the times has changed since the siven Kings held coort in the castle beyant yon.
"Niver heard o' the Siven Kings av Athenroy? Why ivery babby knows the whole shtory be heart, an' all about thim. Faith I'll tell it, fur it's not desayvin' ye I am, fur the ould castle was wan o' the greatest places in the counthry.
"Wanst upon a time, there was an ould King in Athenroy, that, be all accounts, was the besht ould King that iver set fut upon a throne. He was a tall ould King, an' the hairs av him an' the beard av him was as white as a shnow-flake, an' he had a long, grane dressin' gown, wid shamrocks av goold all over it, an' a goold crown as high as a gintleman's hat, wid a[pg 005] dimund as big as yer fisht on the front av it, an' silver shlippers on the feet av him. An' he had grane cârpets on the groun' in the hall o' the ould castle, an' begob, they do say that everything about the coort was goold, but av that I'm not rightly sartain, barrin' the pipe. That was av goold, bekase there's a picture av him hangin' in Michael Flaherty's shebeen, an' the pipe is just the look av goold an' so it must have been.
"An' he was the besht King in Ireland, an' sorra a beggar 'ud come an the dure, but the King 'ud come out in his gown an' shlippers an' ax him how he come to be poor, an' sind him 'round to the kitchen to be warrumed wid a dhrop av whishkey an' fed wid all the cold pitaties that was in the panthry. All the people riz up whin he was a-walkin' down the shtrate wid a big goold-top shtick in his hand, an' the crown a-shinin' on his head, an' they said, 'God save yer Holiness,' an' he said, 'God save ye kindly,' mighty perlite, bekase he was a dacent mannered ould King, an' 'ud shpake to a poor divil that hadn't a coat on his back as quick as to wan av his ginerals wid a goold watch an' a shiny hat. An' whin he wint into a shop, sure they niver axed him to show the color av his money at all, but the man 'ud say, 'God save ye! Sure ye can pay whin ye plaze, an' I'll sind it be the postman whin he goes by.' An' the ould King 'ud say, 'Oh, I wont throuble ye. Bedad, I'll carry it,' an' aff the blessed ould King 'ud go, wid his bundles undher his arm, an' the crown on his head, as happy as a widdy wid a new husband.
"An' there was six other ould Kings, that was frinds to him, an' they was all as like him as six paze. Foor times a year they'd all come to Athenroy fur a bit av a shpree like, bekase the King av Athenroy was the ouldest av thim, an' they thought the worruld an' all av him. Faix, it was mighty improvin' to see thim all a-goin' to chapel in the mornin',[pg 006] an' singin' an' drinkin' an' playin' whisht in the avenin'. Sure thim was the blessed days fur the counthry.
"Well me dear, in coorse av time, the six ould Kings all died, God rest their sowls, but as aitch wan had a son to come afther him, the differ was mighty shmall, for the young Kings was dacent shpoken lads an' kept on comin' to Athenroy just like the ould Kings.
"Oh, bedad, I forgot to tell yez that the ould King had a dawther, that was the light av his eyes. She was as tall as a sargent an' as shtrate as a gun, an' her eyes was as blue as the shky an' shone like the shtars. An' her hairs was t'reads av goold, an' she was the beautifulest woman iver seen in Athenroy. An' shmall love there was for her, fur she was as cowld as a wet Christmas. She didn't shpake often, bekase she wasn't wan o' thim that 'ud deefen a smith, but whin she did, the tongue that was in the head av her was like a sting-nettle, an' 'ud lash around like a throut on land. An' ivery woman in the shtrate watched her like kites whin she set fut out o' the dure, bekase she dressed as fine as a fiddle, wid a grane silk gown, an' a blue bonnet wid yellow ribbins, an' a shtring av goold baids the size av plums 'round her neck.
"Musha, thin, it's a quare thing entirely, that min like wan woman betther than another. Begob, it's my belafe, savin' yer prisence, that there's not the differ av a cowld pitaty bechune thim all whin it's a queshtion av marryin' wan o' thim, an' if the whole worruld knewn that same, its few hurted heads there'd be along o' the wimmin. Well, it was the divil's own job, axin' yer pardon, but ivery wan o' thim young Kings tuk into his head to fall in love wid the Princess Bridget, fur that was her name, an' a good name it is; an' wan afther another, they'd shlip in whin they'd be passin', to pay their respicts. Whin wan o' thim found out that[pg 007] another wan was comin', he'd come the aftener himself to make up fur it, an' afther a while, they all found out aitch other, an' thin, begob all o' thim come to be beforehand wid the rest, an' from foor times in the year, it was foor times in the week that the gang o' them 'ud be settin' in the kitchen till the cock 'ud crow, all a-makin' love to the young Princess.
"An' a fine sight it was to see thim, bekase they was all shtrivin' to do somethin' for her. Whin she paled the pitaties fur the ould King's brekquest, sure wan o' thim 'ud be givin' her the pitaties, another wan 'ud catch the palin' an' the rest lookin' on wid the invy shinin' out o' their faces.[pg 008] Whin she dropped the thimble, you'd think the last wan 'ud jump out av his shkin to get it, an' whin she wint to milk the cow, wan 'ud carry the pail, another wan 'ud fetch the shtool, an' two 'ud feed the cow, an' two other wans 'ud hold the calf, an' aitch wan 'ud bless God whin she gev him the laste shmile, bekase she was so cowld, d' ye mind, that divil a wan o' thim all cud say that he'd get her at all.
"So at firsht, ould King Dennis, that bein' his name, was mighty plazed to see the young chaps all afther his dawther, an' whin he knewn they was in the kitchen, he'd shmoke his pipe an' have his sup be himself in the other room so as to lave thim; an' whin he saw thim hangin' over the wall o' the gârden beyant, or peepin' through the hedge, he'd let on not to parsave thim; an' whin they folly'd the Princess to church, he was as proud as a paycock to see thim settin' behind her wid their crowns in a row undher the sate. But whin they kept an a-comin' ivery night in the week an' drinkin' his whishkey an' shmokin' his besht terbakky,--more-betoken, whin they begun' to be oncivil to aitch other, says he to himself, says he, 'Bedad,' says he, 'there'll be throuble if it kapes on thish-a-way. Sure I'll shpake to the gurrul.'
"So he called to the Princess, 'Biddy,' says he.
"'What, Father?' says she.
"'Come here to me,' says he.
"'Sure how can I? I'm busy,' says she.
"'Phat's that you're at?' says he.
"'I'm afther shwapin' the kitchen,' says she.
"'Lave aff,' says he. 'Come to me at wanst,' says he.
"The ould King was very starn, bekase he knewn it was only an axcuse she was afther makin,' an' she was lookin' that he'd be sayin' somethin' about the young Kings an' was afther dodgin' as long as she cud. So whin he shpoke so[pg 009] crass, she riz up aff the sate, for it was a fib she was tellin', an' she didn't shwape the kitchen at all, an' that was done be wan av the maids, an' gev a sigh, an' wint in the ould King's room.
"An' there was the ould King on his throne, his crown on his head, shmokin' his goolden dhudeen wid a glass o' grog at his side, as detarmined as he cud be. 'I'm wantin' to know,' says he, 'phat you're afther goin' to do,' says he, 'in regârds av the young Kings,' says he.
"'Phat's that you're sayin', Father?' says she, mighty shly, as lettin' on not to see phat he was drivin' at. The ould King repated his statemint.
"'Troth, then, I dunno, Father,' says she.
"'Do you mane to marry thim, at all, at all?' says he.
"'Not all o' thim,' says she, shmilin'.
"'Well, which wan o' thim?' says he.
"'How can I tell?' says she.
"'Has any o' thim axed ye?' says he.
"'Hasn't they all?' says she.
"'An' which wan do ye love besht?' says he.
"'Sure how do I know?' says she, an' sorra a word more cud he get from her be all the queshtions he cud ax.
"But he tuk a dale av bother an' thin gev it up an' says to her, 'Go an' get the supper,' says he, 'come in the throne-room afther brekquest wid yer mind made.' But he was afeard she'd give him throuble fur it was the cool face she had, an' afther she was gone he set his crown over wan ear an' scrotched his head like a tinant on quarther day widout a pinny in his pocket, bekase he knewn that whoever the gurrul tuk, the other five Kings cud make throuble.
"So the next mornin', the Princess towld him phat she'd do, an' whin the Kings come that night, he walks into the[pg 010] kitchen where they were shmokin', an' makin' a low bow, he says, 'God save ye,' an' they all riz an' says, 'God save yer Holiness.' So he says, 'Bridget, go to bed immejitly, I'll shpake to the jintlemin.' An' she wint away, lettin' an to shmile an' consale her face, 't was the divil av a sharp gurrul she was, an' the ould King set on the table an' towld thim phat she'd do. He towld thim they must play fair, an' they said they would, an' thin he towld thim the Princess wanted to see which was the besht man, so they must have shports in her prisence, an' the next day afther the shports they'd find out who she was goin' to marry. So they all aggrade, an' wint home at wanst to get ready fur the shports.
"Faith, it 'ud 'uv done the sowl av ye good the next day to see the whole av Ireland at the shports whin the contist bechune the Kings kem.
"'T was held in the field beyant, an' they made a ring an' the six young Kings run races an' rassled an' played all the axcitin' games that was iver knewn, aitch wid wan eye on the shports an' the other on the Princess, that was shmilin' an thim all an' lookin' as plazed as a new Mimber o' Parlaymint, an' so did they all, bekase, d' ye see, before the shports begun, they was brought, wan at a time, in the coort, an' the Princess talked wid aitch be himself, wasn't it the shly purtinder that she was, fur whin they kem out, every wan was shmilin' to himself, as fur to say he had a very agrayble saycret.
"So the shports was ended an' everybody wint home, barrin' thim as shtopped at the shebeens. But sorra a wink o' shlape crassed the eyes av wan o' the young Kings, fur the joy that was in the heart o' thim, bekase aitch knewn he'd get the Princess.
"Whin the mornin' come, the like o' the flusthration that was in Athenroy was niver seen afore, nor sense aither, fur[pg 011]
[pg 013]whin the maid wint to call the Princess, sure she wasn't there. So they sarched the coort from the garret to the cellar an' peeped in the well an' found she was nowhere entirely.
"So they towld the ould King, an' says he, 'Baithershin, where is she at all,' says he, 'an' phat'ull I be sayin' to the young Kings whin they come.' An' there he was, a-tarin' the long white hair av him, whin the young Kings all come.
"'God save yer Holiness,' says they to him.
"'God save ye kindly,' says he, fur wid all the sorra that was in him, sure he didn't forgit to be perlite, bekase he was as cunnin' as a fox, an' knewn he'd nade all his good manners to make aminds fur his dawther's absince. So, says he, 'God save ye kindly,' says he, bowin'.
"'An' where is the Princess?' says they.
"'Divil a wan o' me knows,' says he.
"'Sure it's jokin' wid us ye are,' says the Kings.
"'Faix, I'm not,' says the ould King. 'Bad cess to the thrace av her was seen sense she went to bed.'
"'Sure she didn't go to bed entirely,' says the maid, 'the bed wasn't touched, an' her besht gown's gone.'
"'An' where has she gone?' says the Kings.
"'Tare an' 'ounds,' says the ould King, 'am n't I ignerant entirely? Och, Biddy, Biddy, how cud ye sarve me so?' a-wringing his hands wid the graif.
"Well, at firsht the Kings looked at aitch other as if the eyes 'ud lave thim, bein' all dazed like an' sarcumvinted intirely. An' thin they got their wits about thim, an' begun to be angry.
"'It's desayvin' us ye are, ye outprobious ould villin,' says they to him. 'Musha, thin, bad cess to ye, bring out the Princess an' let her make her chice bechune us, or it'll be the worse fur ye, ye palaverin' ould daddy long-legs,' says they.
[pg 014]"'God bechune us an' harm,' says the ould King, 'sure d' ye think it's makin' fun av ye I am, an' me spindin' more than tin pounds yestherday fur whishkey an the shports? Faix, she's gone,' says he.
"'Where to?' says they.
"'Divil a know I know,' says he, wid the face av him gettin' red, an' wid that word they all wint away in a tarin' rage wid him, fur they consaved, an' shmall blame to thim, that he had her consaled in the coort an' was shtrivin' to chate thim.
"An' they wint home an' got their armies, an' come back wid 'em that night, an' while the ould King an' his min were all ashlape they made these piles av airth to take the city whin the day 'ud break.
"Whin the ould King riz an' tuk a walk an the roof wid his shlippers, sure phat 'ud he see but banners a-wavin', soords a-flashin', an' the ears av him was deefened wid the thrumpets. 'Bad scran to the idjits,' says he; 'phat's that they're afther?' says he. 'Isn't there more nor wan woman in the worruld, that they're makin' a bother afther Bridget?' So wid that he ordhered his min to get ready wid their waypons, an' before the battle 'ud begin, he wint out to thry an' make a thraty.
"While they were a-talkin', up comes wan av the King's tinants, wid a donkey an' a load av sayweed fur the King's gârden, that he'd been to Galway afther. 'God save ye,' says he, a-touchin' his cap; 'where is the six Kings?'
"'An' phat d'ye want, ye blaggârd?' says they, lookin' lofty.
"'I've a message fur yez,' says he, 'from the young Princess,' an' whin they heard him shpake, they all stopped to listen.
"'She sent her respicts,' says he, 'an' bid me tell yez that[pg 015] she was afther kapin' her word an' lettin' yer Honors know who she was goin' to marry. It's the King av Galway that's in it, if it's plazin' to ye, an' she says she'll sind yez a bit av the cake. I met her lasht night in the road ridin' wid him on a câr an' had a bundle undher her arrum. Divil a taste av a lie's in it entirely.'
"Bad cess to the gurrul, it was thrue fur him, fur she had run away. But, my dear, it was as good as the theayter to see the six young Kings an' the ould King, a-lookin' at aitch other as stupid as a jackass, all as wan as the castle 'ad 'a' fallen on thim. But they was sinsible young fellys, an' seen the Princess had desaved thim all complately.
"'Bad scran to the gurrul,' says they, 'an' it's the blessed fools we was fur belavin' her.' Thin they come to talk to aitch other, an' wan says, 'Sure she thought most av me, fur she towld me she hoped I'd bate yez,' says he. 'Begob, she said to me that same,' says the other wans, an' they stud, scrotchin' the heads av thim an' disconsarted intirely.
"'An' phat's the good av fightin,' says the ould King, 'bein' as we're all in the thrap at wanst?'
"'Thrue fur ye,' says they. 'We'll dispinse widout her. We'll have it out wid the King o' Galway,' says they.
[pg 016]"An' they all wint into the coort an' had the bit an' sup, an' made a thraty forninst the King av Galway. It was the great war that was in it, the Siven Kings wid the King av Galway, an' bate him out o' the counthry intirely. But it's my consate that they was all fools to be afther fightin' consarnin' wan woman whin the worruld is full o' thim, an' any wan competint to give a man plenty to think av, bekase whin she gives her attinshun to it, any woman can be the divil complately."
The west and northwest coast of Ireland shows many remarkable geological formations, but, excepting the Giant's Causeway, no more striking spectacle is presented than that to the south of Galway Bay. From the sea, the mountains rise in terraces like gigantic stairs, the layers of stone being apparently harder and denser on the upper surfaces than beneath, so the lower portion of each layer, disintegrating first, is washed away by the rains and a clearly defined step is formed. These terraces are generally about twenty feet high, and of a breadth, varying with the situation and exposure, of from ten to fifty feet.
The highway from Ennis to Ballyvaughn, a fishing village opposite Galway, winds, by a circuitous course, through these freaks of nature, and, on the long descent from the high land to the sea level, passes the most conspicuous of the neighboring mountains, the Corkscrew Hill. The general shape of the mountain is conical, the terraces composing it are of wonderful regularity from the base to the peak, and the strata being[pg 018] sharply upturned from the horizontal, the impression given is that of a broad road carved out of the sides of the mountain and winding by an easy ascent to the summit.
"'Tis the Pooka's Path they call it," said the car-man. "Phat's the Pooka? Well, that's not aisy to say. It's an avil sper't that does be always in mischief, but sure it niver does sarious harrum axceptin' to thim that desarves it, or thim that shpakes av it disrespictful. I never seen it, Glory be to God, but there's thim that has, and be the same token, they do say that it looks like the finest black horse that iver wore shoes. But it isn't a horse at all at all, for no horse 'ud have eyes av fire, or be breathin' flames av blue wid a shmell o' sulfur, savin' yer presince, or a shnort like thunder, and no mortial horse 'ud take the lapes it does, or go as fur widout gettin' tired. Sure when it give Tim O'Bryan the ride it give him, it wint from Gort to Athlone wid wan jump, an' the next it tuk he was in Mullingyar, and the next was in Dublin, and back agin be way av Kilkenny an' Limerick, an' niver turned a hair. How far is that? Faith I dunno, but it's a power av distance, an' clane acrost Ireland an' back. He knew it was the Pooka bekase it shpake to him like a Christian mortial, only it isn't agrayble in its language an' 'ull niver give ye a dacint word afther ye're on its back, an' sometimes not before aither.
"Sure Dennis O'Rourke was afther comin' home wan night, it was only a boy I was, but I mind him tellin' the shtory, an' it was at a fair in Galway he'd been. He'd been havin' a sup, some says more, but whin he come to the rath, and jist beyant where the fairies dance and ferninst the wall where the polisman was shot last winther, he fell in the ditch, quite spint and tired complately. It wasn't the length as much as the wideness av the road was in it, fur he was goin' from wan side[pg 019] to the other an' it was too much fur him entirely. So he laid shtill fur a bit and thin thried fur to get up, but his legs wor light and his head was heavy, an' whin he attimpted to get his feet an the road 'twas his head that was an it, bekase his legs cudn't balance it. Well, he laid there and was bet entirely, an' while he was studyin' how he'd raise, he heard the throttin' av a horse on the road. ''Tis meself 'ull get the lift now,' says he, and laid waitin', and up comes the Pooka. Whin Dennis seen him, begob, he kivered his face wid his hands and turned on the breast av him, and roared wid fright like a bull.
"'Arrah thin, ye snakin' blaggârd,' says the Pooka, mighty short, 'lave aff yer bawlin' or I'll kick ye to the ind av next week,' says he to him.
"But Dennis was scairt, an' bellered louder than afore, so the Pooka, wid his hoof, give him a crack on the back that knocked the wind out av him.
[pg 020]"'Will ye lave aff,' says the Pooka, 'or will I give ye another, ye roarin' dough-face?'
"Dennis left aff blubberin' so the Pooka got his timper back.
"'Shtand up, ye guzzlin' sarpint,' says the Pooka, 'I'll give ye a ride.'
"'Plaze yer Honor,' says Dennis, 'I can't. Sure I've not been afther drinkin' at all, but shmokin' too much an' atin', an' it's sick I am, and not ontoxicated.'
"'Och, ye dhrunken buzzard,' says the Pooka, 'Don't offer fur to desave me,' liftin' up his hoof agin, an' givin' his tail a swish that sounded like the noise av a catheract, 'Didn't I thrack ye for two miles be yer breath,' says he, 'An' you shmellin' like a potheen fact'ry,' says he, 'An' the nose on yer face as red as a turkey-cock's. Get up, or I'll lift ye,' says he, jumpin' up an' cracking his hind fut like he was doin' a jig.
"Dennis did his best, an' the Pooka helped him wid a grip o' the teeth on his collar.
"'Pick up yer caubeen,' says the Pooka, 'an' climb up. I'll give ye such a ride as ye niver dhramed av.'
"'Ef it's plazin' to yer Honor,' says Dennis, 'I'd laver walk. Ridin' makes me dizzy,' says he.
"''Tis not plazin',' says the Pooka, 'will ye get up or will I kick the shtuffin' out av yer cowardly carkidge,' says he, turnin' round an' flourishin' his heels in Dennis' face.
"Poor Dennis thried, but he cudn't, so the Pooka tuk him to the wall an' give him a lift an it, an' whin Dennis was mounted, an' had a tight howld on the mane, the first lep he give was down the rock there, a thousand feet into the field ye see, thin up agin, an' over the mountain, an' into the say, an' out agin, from the top av the waves to the top av the[pg 021] mountain, an' afther the poor soggarth av a ditcher was nigh onto dead, the Pooka come back here wid him an' dhropped him in the ditch where he found him, an' blowed in his face to put him to slape, so lavin' him. An' they found Dennis in the mornin' an' carried him home, no more cud he walk for a fortnight be razon av the wakeness av his bones fur the ride he'd had.
"But sure, the Pooka's a different baste entirely to phat he was afore King Bryan-Boru tamed him. Niver heard av him? Well, he was the king av Munster an' all Ireland an' tamed the Pooka wanst fur all on the Corkschrew Hill ferninst ye.
"Ye see, in the owld days, the counthry was full av avil sper'ts, an' fairies an' witches, an' divils entirely, and the harrum they done was onsaycin', for they wor always comin' an' goin', like Mulligan's blanket, an' widout so much as sayin', by yer lave. The fairies 'ud be dancin' on the grass every night be the light av the moon, an' stalin' away the childhre, an' many's the wan they tuk that niver come back. The owld rath on the hill beyant was full av the dead, an' afther nightfall they'd come from their graves an' walk in a long line wan afther another to the owld church in the valley where they'd go in an' stay till cock-crow, thin they'd come out agin an' back to the rath. Sorra a parish widout a witch, an' some nights they'd have a great enthertainmint on the Corkschrew Hill, an' you'd see thim, wid shnakes on their arrums an' necks an' ears, be way av jewels, an' the eyes av dead men in their hair, comin' for miles an' miles, some ridin' through the air on shticks an' bats an' owls, an' some walkin', an' more on Pookas an' horses wid wings that 'ud come up in line to the top av the hill, like the cabs at the dure o' the theayter, an' lave thim there an' hurry aff to bring more.
[pg 022]"Sometimes the Owld Inimy, Satan himself, 'ud be there at the enthertainmint, comin' an a monsthrous draggin, wid grane shcales an' eyes like the lightnin' in the heavens, an' a roarin' fiery mouth like a lime-kiln. It was the great day thin, for they do say all the witches brought their rayports at thim saysons fur to show him phat they done.
"Some 'ud tell how they shtopped the wather in a spring, an' inconvanienced the nabers, more 'ud show how they dhried the cow's milk, an' made her kick the pail, an' they'd all laugh like to shplit. Some had blighted the corn, more had brought the rains on the harvest. Some towld how their enchantmints made the childhre fall ill, some said how they set the thatch on fire, more towld how they shtole the eggs, or spiled the crame in the churn, or bewitched the butther so it 'udn't come, or led the shape into the bog. But that wasn't all.
"Wan 'ud have the head av a man murthered be her manes, an' wid it the hand av him hung fur the murther; wan 'ud bring the knife she'd scuttled a boat wid an' pint in the say to where the corpses laid av the fishermen she'd dhrownded; wan 'ud carry on her breast the child she'd shtolen an' meant to bring up in avil, an' another wan 'ud show the little white body av a babby she'd smothered in its slape. And the corpse-candles 'ud tell how they desaved the thraveller, bringin' him to the river, an' the avil sper'ts 'ud say how they dhrew him in an' down to the bottom in his sins an' thin to the pit wid him. An' owld Belzebub 'ud listen to all av thim, wid a rayporther, like thim that's afther takin' down the spaches at a Lague meetin', be his side, a-writing phat they said, so as whin they come to be paid, it 'udn't be forgotten.
"Thim wor the times fur the Pookas too, fur they had power over thim that wint forth afther night, axceptin' it was[pg 023] on an arriant av marcy they were. But sorra a sinner that hadn't been to his juty reglar 'ud iver see the light av day agin afther meetin' a Pooka thin, for the baste 'ud aither kick him to shmithereens where he stud, or lift him on his back wid his teeth an' jump into the say wid him, thin dive, lavin' him to dhrownd, or shpring over a clift wid him an' tumble him to the bottom a bleedin' corpse. But wasn't there the howls av joy whin a Pooka 'ud catch a sinner unbeknownst, an' fetch him on the Corkschrew wan o' the nights Satan was there. Och, God defind us, phat a sight it was. They made a ring wid the corpse-candles, while the witches tore him limb from limb, an' the fiends drunk his blood in red-hot iron noggins wid shrieks o' laughter to smother his schreams, an' the Pookas jumped on his body an' thrampled it into the ground, an' the timpest 'ud whishle a chune, an' the mountains about 'ud kape time, an' the Pookas, an' witches, an' sper'ts av avil, an' corpse-candles, an' bodies o' the dead, an' divils, 'ud all jig together round the rock where owld Belzebub 'ud set shmilin', as fur to say he'd ax no betther divarshun. God's presince be wid us, it makes me crape to think av it.
"Well, as I was afther sayin', in the time av King Bryan, the Pookas done a dale o' harrum, but as thim that they murthered wor dhrunken bastes that wor in the shebeens in the day an' in the ditch be night, an' wasn't missed whin the Pookas tuk them, the King paid no attintion, an' small blame to him that 's.
"But wan night, the queen's babby fell ill, an' the king says to his man, says he, 'Here, Riley, get you up an' on the white mare an' go fur the docther.'
"'Musha thin,' says Riley, an' the king's counthry house was in the break o' the hills, so Riley 'ud pass the rath an' the Corkschrew on the way afther the docther; 'Musha thin,'[pg 024] says he, aisey and on the quiet, 'it's mesilf that doesn't want that same job.'
"So he says to the king, 'Won't it do in the mornin'?'
"'It will not,' says the king to him. 'Up, ye lazy beggar, atin' me bread, an' the life lavin' me child.'
"So he wint, wid great shlowness, tuk the white mare, an' aff, an' that was the last seen o' him or the mare aither, fur the Pooka tuk 'em. Sorra a taste av a lie's in it, for thim that said they seen him in Cork two days afther, thrading aff the white mare, was desaved be the sper'ts, that made it seem to be him whin it wasn't that they've a thrick o' doin'.
"Well, the babby got well agin, bekase the docther didn't get there, so the king left botherin' afther it and begun to wondher about Riley an' the white mare, and sarched fur thim but didn't find thim. An' thin he knewn that they was gone entirely, bekase, ye see, the Pooka didn't lave as much as a hair o' the mare's tail.
"'Wurra thin,' says he, 'is it horses that the Pooka 'ull be stalin'? Bad cess to its impidince! This 'ull niver do. Sure we'll be ruinated entirely,' says he.
"Mind ye now, it's my consate from phat he said, that the king wasn't consarned much about Riley, fur he knewn that he cud get more Irishmen whin he wanted thim, but phat he meant to say was that if the Pooka tuk to horse-stalin', he'd be ruinated entirely, so he would, for where 'ud he get another white mare? So it was a mighty sarious question an' he retired widin himself in the coort wid a big book that he had that towld saycrets. He'd a sight av larnin', had the king, aquel to a school-masther, an' a head that 'ud sarcumvint a fox.
"So he read an' read as fast as he cud, an' afther readin' widout shtoppin', barrin' fur the bit an' sup, fur siven days[pg 025] an' nights, he come out, an' whin they axed him cud he bate the Pooka now, he said niver a word, axceptin' a wink wid his eye, as fur to say he had him.
"So that day he was in the fields an' along be the hedges an' ditches from sunrise to sunset, collectin' the matarials av a dose fur the Pooka, but phat he got, faith, I dunno, no more does any wan, fur he never said, but kep the saycret to himself an' didn't say it aven to the quane, fur he knewn that saycrets run through a woman like wather in a ditch. But there was wan thing about it that he cudn't help tellin', fur he wanted[pg 026] it but cudn't get it widout help, an' that was three hairs from the Pooka's tail, axceptin' which the charm 'udn't work. So he towld a man he had, he'd give him no end av goold if he'd get thim fur him, but the felly pulled aff his caubeen an' scrotched his head an' says, 'Faix, yer Honor, I dunno phat'll be the good to me av the goold if the Pooka gets a crack at me carkidge wid his hind heels,' an' he wudn't undhertake the job on no wages, so the king begun to be afeared that his loaf was dough.
"But it happen'd av the Friday, this bein' av a Chewsday, that the Pooka caught a sailor that hadn't been on land only long enough to get bilin' dhrunk, an' got him on his back, so jumped over the clift wid him lavin' him dead enough, I go bail. Whin they come to sarch the sailor to see phat he had in his pockets, they found three long hairs round the third button av his top-coat. So they tuk thim to the king tellin' him where they got thim, an' he was greatly rejiced, bekase now he belaved he had the Pooka sure enough, so he ended his inchantmint.
"But as the avenin' come, he riz a doubt in the mind av him thish-a-way. Ev the three hairs wor out av the Pooka's tail, the charm 'ud be good enough, but if they wasn't, an' was from his mane inshtead, or from a horse inshtead av a Pooka, the charm 'udn't work an' the Pooka 'ud get atop av him wid all the feet he had at wanst an' be the death av him immejitly. So this nate and outprobrious argymint shtruck the king wid great force an' fur a bit, he was onaisey. But wid a little sarcumvintion, he got round it, for he confist an' had absolution so as he'd be ready, thin he towld wan av the sarvints to come in an' tell him afther supper, that there was a poor widdy in the boreen beyant the Corkschrew that wanted help that night, that it 'ud be an arriant av marcy he'd be on, an' so safe agin the Pooka if the charm didn't howld.
[pg 027]"'Sure, phat'll be the good o' that?' says the man, 'It 'ull be a lie, an' won't work.'
"'Do you be aisey in yer mind,' says the king to him agin, 'do as yer towld an' don't argy, for that's a pint av mettyfisics,' says he, faix it was a dale av deep larnin' he had, 'that's a pint av mettyfisics an' the more ye argy on thim subjics, the less ye know,' says he, an' it's thrue fur him. 'Besides, aven if it's a lie, it'll desave the Pooka, that's no mettyfishian, an' it's my belafe that the end is good enough for the manes,' says he, a-thinking av the white mare.
"So, afther supper, as the king was settin' afore the fire, an' had the charm in his pocket, the sarvint come in and towld him about the widdy.
"'Begob,' says the king, like he was surprised, so as to desave the Pooka complately, 'Ev that's thrue, I must go relave her at wanst.' So he riz an' put on sojer boots, wid shpurs on 'em a fut acrost, an' tuk a long whip in his hand, for fear, he said, the widdy 'ud have dogs, thin wint to his chist an' tuk his owld stockin' an' got a suv'rin out av it,--Och, 'twas the shly wan he was, to do everything so well,--an' wint out wid his right fut first, an' the shpurs a-rattlin' as he walked.
"He come acrost the yard, an' up the hill beyant yon an' round the corner, but seen nothin' at all. Thin up the fut path round the Corkscrew an' met niver a sowl but a dog that he cast a shtone at. But he didn't go out av the road to the widdy's, for he was afeared that if he met the Pooka an' he caught him in a lie, not bein' in the road to where he said he was goin', it 'ud be all over wid him. So he walked up an' down bechuxt the owld church below there an' the rath on the hill, an' jist as the clock was shtrikin' fur twelve, he heard a horse in front av him, as he was walkin' down, so[pg 028] he turned an' wint the other way, gettin' his charm ready, an' the Pooka come up afther him.
"'The top o' the mornin' to yer Honor,' says the Pooka, as perlite as a Frinchman, for he seen be his close that the king wasn't a common blaggârd like us, but was wan o' the rale quolity.
"'Me sarvice to ye,' says the king to him agin, as bowld as a ram, an' whin the Pooka heard him shpake, he got perliter than iver, an' made a low bow an' shcrape wid his fut, thin they wint on together an' fell into discoorse.
"''Tis a black night for thravelin',' says the Pooka.
"'Indade it is,' says the king, 'it's not me that 'ud be out in it, if it wasn't a case o' needcessity. I'm on an arriant av charity,' says he.
"'That's rale good o' ye,' says the Pooka to him, 'and if I may make bowld to ax, phat's the needcessity?'
"''Tis to relave a widdy-woman,' says the king.
"'Oho,' says the Pooka, a-throwin' back his head laughin' wid great plazin'ness an' nudgin' the king wid his leg on the arrum, beways that it was a joke it was bekase the king said it was to relave a widdy he was goin'. 'Oho,' says the Pooka, ''tis mesilf that's glad to be in the comp'ny av an iligint jintleman that's on so plazin' an arriant av marcy,' says he. 'An' how owld is the widdy-woman?' says he, bustin' wid the horrid laugh he had.
"'Musha thin,' says the king, gettin' red in the face an' not likin' the joke the laste bit, for jist betune us, they do say that afore he married the quane, he was the laddy-buck wid the wimmin, an' the quane's maid towld the cook, that towld the footman, that said to the gârdener, that towld the nabers that many's the night the poor king was as wide awake as a hare from sun to sun wid the quane a-gostherin' at him about[pg 029] that same. More betoken, there was a widdy in it, that was as sharp as a rat-thrap an' surrounded him whin he was young an' hadn't as much sinse as a goose, an' was like to marry him at wanst in shpite av all his relations, as widdys undhershtand how to do. So it's my consate that it wasn't dacint for the Pooka to be afther laughin' that-a-way, an' shows that avil sper'ts is dirthy blaggârds that can't talk wid jintlemin. 'Musha,' thin, says the king, bekase the Pooka's laughin' wasn't agrayble to listen to, 'I don't know that same, fur I niver seen her, but, be jagers, I belave she's a hundherd, an' as ugly as Belzebub, an' whin her owld man was alive, they tell me she had a timper like a gandher, an' was as aisey to manage as[pg 030] an armful o' cats,' says he. 'But she's in want, an' I'm afther bringin' her a suv'rin,' says he.
"Well, the Pooka sayced his laughin', fur he seen the king was very vexed, an' says to him, 'And if it's plazin', where does she live?'
"'At the ind o' the boreen beyant the Corkschrew,' says the king, very short.
"'Begob, that's a good bit,' says the Pooka.
"'Faix, it's thrue for ye,' says the king, 'more betoken, it's up hill ivery fut o' the way, an' me back is bruk entirely wid the stapeness,' says he, be way av a hint he'd like a ride.
"'Will yer Honor get upon me back,' says the Pooka. 'Sure I'm afther goin' that-a-way, an' you don't mind gettin' a lift?' says he, a-fallin' like the stupid baste he was, into the thrap the king had made fur him.
"'Thanks,' says the king, 'I b'lave not. I've no bridle nor saddle,' says he, 'besides, it's the shpring o' the year, an' I'm afeared ye're sheddin', an' yer hair 'ull come aff an' spile me new britches,' says he, lettin' on to make axcuse.
"'Have no fear,' says the Pooka. 'Sure I niver drop me hair. It's no ordhinary garron av a horse I am, but a most oncommon baste that's used to the quolity,' says he.
"'Yer spache shows that,' says the king, the clever man that he was, to be perlite that-a-way to a Pooka, that's known to be a divil out-en-out, 'but ye must exqueeze me this avenin', bekase, d'ye mind, the road's full o' shtones an' monsthrous stape, an' ye look so young, I'm afeared ye'll shtumble an' give me a fall,' says he.
"'Arrah thin,' says the Pooka, 'it's thrue fur yer Honor, I do look young,' an' he begun to prance on the road givin' himself airs like an owld widdy man afther wantin' a young woman, 'but me age is owlder than ye'd suppoge. How owld 'ud ye say I was,' says he, shmilin'.
[pg 031]"'Begorra, divil a bit know I,' says the king, 'but if it's agrayble to ye, I'll look in yer mouth an' give ye an answer,' says he.
"So the Pooka come up to him fair an' soft an' stratched his mouth like as he thought the king was wantin' fur to climb in, an' the king put his hand on his jaw like as he was goin' to see the teeth he had: and thin, that minnit he shlipped the three hairs round the Pooka's jaw, an' whin he done that, he dhrew thim tight, an' said the charm crossin' himself the while, an' immejitly the hairs wor cords av stale, an' held the Pooka tight, be way av a bridle.
"'Arra-a-a-h, now, ye bloody baste av a murtherin' divil ye,' says the king, pullin' out his big whip that he had consaled in his top-coat, an' giving the Pooka a crack wid it undher his stummick, 'I'll give ye a ride ye won't forgit in a hurry,' says he, 'ye black Turk av a four-legged nagur an' you shtaling me white mare,' says he, hittin' him agin.
"'Oh my,' says the Pooka, as he felt the grip av the iron on his jaw an' knewn he was undher an inchantmint, 'Oh my, phat's this at all,' rubbin' his breast wid his hind heel, where the whip had hit him, an' thin jumpin' wid his fore feet out to cotch the air an' thryin' fur to break away. 'Sure I'm ruined, I am, so I am,' says he.
"'It's thrue fur ye,' says the king, 'begob it's the wan thrue thing ye iver said,' says he, a-jumpin' on his back, an' givin' him the whip an' the two shpurs wid all his might.
"Now I forgot to tell ye that whin the king made his inchantmint, it was good fur siven miles round, and the Pooka knewn that same as well as the king an' so he shtarted like a cunshtable was afther him, but the king was afeared to let him go far, thinkin' he'd do the siven miles in a jiffy, an' the inchantmint 'ud be broken like a rotten shtring, so he turned him up the Corkschrew.
[pg 034]"'I'll give ye all the axercise ye want,' says he, 'in thravellin' round this hill,' an' round an' round they wint, the king shtickin' the big shpurs in him every jump an' crackin' him wid the whip till his sides run blood in shtrames like a mill race, an' his schreams av pain wor heard all over the worruld so that the king av France opened his windy and axed the polisman why he didn't shtop the fightin' in the shtrate. Round an' round an' about the Corkschrew wint the king, a-lashin' the Pooka, till his feet made the path ye see on the hill bekase he wint so often.
"And whin mornin' come, the Pooka axed the king phat he'd let him go fur, an' the king was gettin' tired an' towld him that he must niver shtale another horse, an' never kill another man, barrin' furrin blaggârds that wasn't Irish, an' whin he give a man a ride, he must bring him back to the[pg 035] shpot where he got him an' lave him there. So the Pooka consinted, Glory be to God, an' got aff, an' that's the way he was tamed, an' axplains how it was that Dennis O'Rourke was left be the Pooka in the ditch jist where he found him."
"More betoken, the Pooka's an althered baste every way, fur now he dhrops his hair like a common horse, and it's often found shtickin' to the hedges where he jumped over, an' they do say he doesn't shmell half as shtrong o' sulfur as he used, nor the fire out o' his nose isn't so bright. But all the king did fur him 'ud n't taiche him to be civil in his spache, an' whin he meets ye in the way, he spakes just as much like a blaggârd as ever. An' it's out av divilmint entirely he does it, bekase he can be perlite as ye know be phat I towld ye av him sayin' to the king, an' that proves phat I said to ye that avil sper'ts can't larn rale good manners, no matther how hard they thry.
"But the fright he got never left him, an' so he kapes out av the highways an' thravels be the futpaths, an' so isn't often seen. An' it's my belafe that he can do no harrum at all to thim that fears God, an' there's thim that says he niver shows himself nor meddles wid man nor mortial barrin' they're in dhrink, an' mebbe there's something in that too, fur it doesn't take much dhrink to make a man see a good dale."