Part 12

"'I can easily tell you that,' ses I, 'but I couldn't tell you the time of day if you were to make me as gay as a sprite, as blithe as a lark, and as nimble and fresh as a hare in the month of March. This is St. Crispin's Day,' ses I, 'and every shoemaker in Christendom who knows how to enjoy himself will be as drunk as a lord before the sun goes down.'

"'I wouldn't blame them for getting drunk,' ses he, 'for hammering on the sole of a shoe from daylight to dark is no way for a man to enjoy himself. But now,' ses he, 'if you want to know the time of day, I can tell you that.'

"'Of course, I'd like to know the time of day,' ses I.

"'All right,' ses he, 'come along.' And then we walked to a sun-splashed glade, and he looked up at the sun itself, and turned to me, and ses, with the greatest gentleness: ''Tis just a quarter to twelve,' ses he.

"'That's a wonderful clock you have,' ses I.

"''Tis the most wonderful clock in all the world, and never once ran down since it was set a-going long ago before Adam was a boy,' ses he.

"'But 'tisn't every one can tell you the time of day by it,' ses I.

"'I know that,' ses he. 'And 'tisn't every one who can tell you all the other things they should know, and 'tisn't every one who can forget all the things not worth remembering,' ses he.

"'That's true,' ses I, 'and if we could only remember all that is good for us, and forget all that is bad for us, we needn't go to any one for advice. But we either remember too much, or forget too much, and that's why there is so much discontent and trouble everywhere. However, be that as it may, I'd like to know how you manage to enjoy yourself in this eerie place without any one to keep you company,' ses I.

"'I don't want company,' ses he, 'because I came here to get rid of myself.'

"'Are you a married man?' ses I.

"'No,' ses he, 'I escaped.'

"'That's a strange state of affairs,' ses I. 'Sure I always thought that the only way a man could get rid of himself was to get lost, so to speak, in the highways and byways of matrimony, and that he would be so busy trying to please his wife and children that he wouldn't have any time to think of himself.'

"'There are more ways of killing a dog than by making him commit suicide,' ses he.

"'That's so,' ses I. 'And there are more ways of getting drunk than paying for what you drink. And many a man can't feel natural at all, until he is so blind drunk that he don't know what he does be saying.'

"'Yes,' ses he, 'and a man might live without working if he could get any one to support him. But no matter what happens, time and the world rolls by as indifferently as though there was nothing worth bothering about. And after all,' ses he, 'what is the world but a whirling mass of inconsistencies, and everything changes but man. He has no more sense now than ever he had. And more's the pity, for women are as deceitful as ever.'

"'But you haven't told me how you succeeded in getting rid of yourself?' ses I.

"'Well,' ses he, 'I only got rid of myself, in a measure, of course, by escaping from the thralls of convention, and coming to live the life of a recluse in this shady and lonely grove. And while I am here, 'tis consoling to know that I cannot injure anybody by doing them good turns, nor can I be of any assistance to them by being their enemies. A decent enemy,' ses he, 'oftentimes is worth ten thousand friends, who would only do you a kindness for the sake of talking about it afterwards. But the best and most charitable way to behave towards those who try to injure you is to treat them one and all with silent contempt. That will hurt them more than anything else. The tongue may cut like a scissors, but silence gives the deepest wound.'

"'That was well spoken for a lonely man,' ses I.

"'There are worse things than loneliness,' ses he, 'and, strictly speaking, we never feel really lonesome until we find ourselves in the midst of a crowd. And we are never in better company than when we take our place among the trees of a glorious forest like this, where nature has so plentifully bestowed her choicest gifts. I never felt lonesome since I left the noise of the cities behind me, and as I lie awake on my couch at night, I ever long for the morning, so that I may hear the birds on the wing and the birds on the branches singing their praises to the Lord. Aye, and I never tire of watching the rabbit and the weasel, the fox and the hare, or listening to the droning of the bee,' ses he.

"'To live close to and feel the divine influence of nature must be a wonderful thing surely, but I am sorry to say that 'tis the ugly in nature that interests me more than anything else, and the sting of a bee or a mosquito affects me more than the beauty of the sunset,' ses I.

"'Why, man alive,' ses he, 'there's nothing ugly in nature. And the sting of an insect, like the slur of a friend, is a thing to be forgotten and not remembered. But for all that, insects with the capacity for causing annoyance have their uses. And those who never lift their eyes to the skies, so to speak, to look at other worlds than their own, will never feel lonesome while they have bees, wasps, and mosquitoes to torment them.'

"''Tis the devil of a thing,' ses I, 'when you come to think of it, that man can never really enjoy himself. When his wife or daughters, as the case may be, stop nagging at him, his friends commence to turn on him, or the wild animals of the earth, such as bugs and mosquitoes, will try to drive him to desperation.'

"'Very true, indeed,' ses he, 'but we must cultivate patience in all things, and self-control as well, if we want to be comparatively happy.'

"'Patience,' ses he, 'is the next best thing to stupidity. And 'tis nothing more nor less than an infinite capacity for taking pains.'

"'And what's genius then?' ses I.

"'Genius,' ses he, 'is the blossom of inspiration.'

"'I am beginning at long last,' ses I, 'to see some of the advantages of being a recluse. It makes a man think more than pleases those who disagree with him.'

"'You are still a novice at philosophy,' ses he, 'and when you can understand why people won't associate with others, you will know why they keep to themselves.'

"'Oh,' ses I, 'I always want to be with my friends, and live as comfortably as I can. But evidently you don't care where you live, or how you live.'

"'Well,' ses he, 'I live in the present, the past, and the future, and though I dwell in a hut at the foot of the hills beyond, I am as happy as a cow in clover. And if all the water in the ocean was to be turned into whiskey, and if all the fish and the Sunday excursionists were to drink themselves to death, I don't believe that 'twould interfere with my comfort. I have all I want,' ses he, 'and I know it, and that's the only time a man can be happy.'

"'And why don't you write a poem?' ses I.

"'I live one,' ses he, 'and that's much better. I love the rustle of the leaves and every sound in the woods. All that grows and lives and dies interests and inspires me. And the only thing that makes me sad is that I am not a vegetarian. But,' ses he, 'I'd be one in the morning if I could get as much satisfaction from eating a handful of hazel-nuts, or a few skeeories or blackberries, as from feasting on a roast partridge.'

"'And that,' ses I, 'just goes to prove that we would all be decent if our decency wouldn't interfere with our happiness. Nevertheless, a man who can drift away from his fellow men and live alone in a wood must be the descendant of some ancient line of kings, or else he must be one of those highly civilized people we read about in books. Or perhaps a species of snob who cannot see the difference between his own foolishness and the foolishness of others. Such a one usually thinks he is better than his equals and his superiors as well.'

"'Very often,' ses he, 'when nature makes one man better than another, he thinks 'tis his privilege to make others as bad as himself, so to speak. And to be a success, a man must be a snob of some kind, or else have no more brains than a herring.'

"'Snobbery is the greatest of all virtues, because it makes us feel better than we are. Take the Protestants, for instance,' ses I.

"'Snobbery is an inheritance with them,' ses he. 'And 'twas they brought democracy to America. And what, after all, is democracy but the highest form of snobocracy? It begets self-deception in us all, and makes the beggar think he is as good as the king, and the fool think he is as good as the scholar. Aye,' ses he, 'and it makes the monied vulgarian think he is as good as those who only tolerate him. Democracy only gives the downtrodden an opportunity of becoming snobs. 'Tis true, of course,' ses he, 'that the aristocracy couldn't exist only for the common people, and the common people couldn't learn the art of snobbery only for the aristocracy.'

"'But good breeding will always show in a man,' ses I.

"'Yes,' ses he, 'but some are too well bred to be mannerly, and others are too mannerly to be just merely polite. Politeness can be acquired,' ses he, 'but good manners must be born with us. The most ignorant and ill-bred are oftentimes the most polite class of people. And you don't have to spend a year with a man to know whether or not he is a gentleman. The very good manners of some is the most offensive thing about them.'

"''Tis wonderful astuteness of observation, you have entirely,' ses I, 'and I think it is a shame for a man with your insight to be wasting your time in this dreary grove, when you could be giving pleasure and instruction to the poor and ignorant in the outer world.'

"'Why should I spoil the happiness of the ignorant?' ses he. 'What, might I ask, has the world gained by two thousand years of culture? What is the use of educating people who at a moment's notice will go to the wars and slaughter each other for the sake of pleasing the kings and rulers of Christendom?'

"'I'm afraid you are a selfish man,' ses I.

"'Without a tinge of selfishness no man is any good,' ses he.

"'And don't you do anything at all for others?' ses I.

"'Oh, yes,' ses he. "I keep out of their way, and you don't know what a kindness that is. Those who don't bore me,' ses he, 'I bore them. And that is one of the reasons why I keep so much to myself.'

"'And why don't you keep a record of all your thoughts and write them down in a book?' ses I.

"'I might be hanged, drawn and quartered, and beheaded besides, if I were to do that. But, nevertheless, I have preserved a few stray thoughts that may help to amuse the ignorant after I am dead and gone,' ses he.

"'Where are they?' ses I.

"'They are written in large letters on the trees of the grove,' ses he. And then he took my arm, and we walked from tree to tree, and as we went our way, we read as follows:

"'A democrat is one who is sorry that he is not an aristocrat, and an aristocrat is a snob, and doesn't know it.

"'If you think long enough, you will discover that such a thing as equality could never exist, because we all imagine we are better or worse than some one else.

"'People who don't think before marriage learn to do so after, but better late than never.

"'If our friends were as generous as we would wish them to be, we would have no respect for their foolishness.

"'Flies never frequent empty jam-pots, but money always brings friends.

"'The man who seeks a bubble reputation in the newspapers must always keep reminding the public that he doesn't want to be forgotten.

"'It is no easy matter to praise ourselves without abusing others, or to abuse others without praising ourselves.

"'Speech is a blessing to those who have not the courage to carry out their threats.

"'Any fool can smash the shell of an egg into ten thousand pieces, but who can put it together again?

"'When a man takes a false step, he must suffer the consequences, and if he is sensible, he will do so cheerfully.

"'Many say all the things they should be content with thinking, and brilliance, within limits, often only leads to chaos.

"'Congenital stupidity is such a potent factor with most of us that we never know our limitations until we examine our mistakes.

"'Most people are led through life while thinking they are leaders.

"'if we could only see half the comedy of life, we would become pessimists.

"'The man who could be spoilt by success would not be saved by adversity.

"'The great are not always humble, and the humble are not always great.

"'Silence is often more the sign of stupidity than wisdom.

"'We can keep our enemies by continuing to treat them badly, and lose our friends by treating them too well.

"'Wisdom after the event is only repentance.'"

"Bedad," said Micus, "he knew a thing or two."

"No doubt about it," said Padna.

"And 'twas by writing down his thoughts on the bark of trees that he spent his time," said Micus.

"Yes," said Padna. "And 'tis better a man should write down his thoughts, and then forget them, than to leave them die in his mind, or maybe eat into his heart and send him to an early grave."

"Many a man went to his grave for saying too much," said Micus.

"And many a man went to his grave for saying nothing at all," said Padna.

THE KING OF GOULNASPURRA

"The cold has left the breeze, the lonely moon sails over the hills, bats are on the wing, the owl rests on the barn door, the badger is gone in search of his prey, the otter scurries through the stream, and the nightingale with his rich, melodious note fills the air with sweetness," said Padna to his friend Micus.

"It is a glorious night for a ramble," said Micus, "and as we have nothing to do, we might as well take a stroll through the woods, and we may find something to talk about. I too like to watch the moon wandering all alone through the sky at the dead of the night, and no one to keep her company but the stars, and they no company for any one but the poets themselves."

"And the poets are the best company in the whole world," said Padna, "except the dead and they that can't do an injury to any one at all. However, the moon does be kept busy throwing light on a troubled world, and sometimes as she floats through the sky I seem to see a blush on her face as though she was shocked at the badness that steals into the hearts of the young and the old at the close of day. Night is the time that the Devil has his fling, and evil lurks behind everything that is beautiful and enchanting. When there is no moon in the sky, badness does be everywhere, and there does be trembling in every innocent heart until the darkness of night is dispelled by the rising sun, and the first chirrup of the birds is heard, and the cock's shrill crow tells us that day is come."

"The power and majesty of the sun is astounding. With a grace and a gentleness beyond compare, he closes the door of night and greets the waking world with a smile. And the man who can find pleasure looking at the moon in a starry sky should be as happy as a king upon his throne," said Micus.

"Kings," said Padna, "are expensive ornaments, but they are not always happy, if what we hear is true. And the only difference between a king and an ordinary poor man, like one of ourselves, is that we must pay for what we eat, whereas kings get paid for eating, drinking, carousing, and doing what they please."

"The real difference between a king and the common man is a lot of brassy buttons, a high hat with an ostrich plume in it maybe, a silver sword at his side, gold buckles on his shoes, and a few medals on his breast," said Micus.

"And what does a king want a sword for?" said Padna.

"You might as well ask me what do we want kings for, and why they get so much for all the things they don't do. And sure, you wouldn't know a king from any other man if you saw him in his nightshirt. Kingship is the easiest of all professions and the hardest of all trades, because once a man is a king he has no chance of getting a rest until some one fires a bomb at his head or puts poison in his tea," said Micus.

"Well," said Padna, "there is a compensation in all things, and when a man is not fit for anything else, it is a good job for him that he can be a king."

"I suppose," said Micus, "you never heard tell of the King of Goulnaspurra?"

"I did not," said Padna. "Who the blazes was he?"

"He was a distant relation of my own on the wife's side, and so called because he was the best man in a town of two dozen inhabitants," said Micus.

"And what did he do for a living at all?" said Padna.

"He was a mason by trade, and 'tis said that he built more ditches than all the kings in Christendom put together, and there wasn't a better birdcatcher in the whole country than himself. Well, after he had worked some forty years or more in all kinds of weather, he found himself at last on the flat of his back in the Poorhouse Hospital, and no better to look at than an old sweeping brush worn to the stump and kept in the back yard for beating the dogs. And there he remained pining away like a snowball in the sun, until one day the doctor, who wanted a little exercise and diversion, approached him and ses: 'Good morrow, Malachi, King of Goulnaspurra,' ses he.

"'Good morrow kindly and good luck,' ses Malachi. 'What's the best news to-day?'

"'Oh,' ses the doctor, 'the poor are thought as little about as ever, and the same friendly relations exist between the clergy and the rich.'

"'God forgive the clergy for their respectability. It spoils some to make gentlemen of them,' ses Malachi.

"'That's true,' ses the doctor, 'but now as regards yourself, I want to tell you that you needn't worry about looking for a job any more, because you will either be above with St. Patrick and his chums by this day week, or somewhere else. It all depends on how you behaved yourself.'

"'Won't you take a chair and sit down for awhile?' ses Malachi. 'That's the first bit of strange news I have had since I heard that England made the discovery that the most stupid thing she ever did was to treat the Irish badly.'

"'Thanks for your kind offer,' ses the doctor, 'but I am in a hurry to-day. I think that I prescribed arsenic instead of olive oil for one of my patients in Tipperary last week. So I must go and see how he is getting along, and if I don't get there in time to cure him inself, I'll be in time for the funeral, though 'tis against the rules of my profession to attend the funerals of your patients, whether you are responsible or not for their death. But 'tis all the same to us. We get paid anyway.'

"'Olive oil is good for the hair, I believe,' ses the King of Goulnaspurra, 'and they say 'tis a cure for a toothache also.'

"'Olive oil is all right in its way,' ses the doctor, 'but there's nothing like a good drop of whiskey on a cold night if you are not feeling well.'

"'Now,' ses Malachi, 'with reference to that little matter, I mean my journey to the land of the mighty dead; all I can say is that 'tis better a man should die when he is out of employment like myself, than die when he has a good job. But as we must all die some time, there is no reason why we shouldn't emulate the ancient philosophers, when we are no more use to ourselves or any one else, and shuffle off this mortal coil by drinking our health, so to speak, in a glass of hemlock. Life, anyway,' ses he, 'is a feast for some, a famine for others, and a puzzle to all. Some think so little about it that they are dead before they realize what has happened, and others don't know that they are alive at all until they are married. Howsomever,' ses he, 'our own affairs are always interesting to ourselves, so I must now make my will before I die.' And then and there he asked for pen, ink, and paper, and this is what he wrote:

"'I, Malachi, King of Goulnaspurra, bequeath the hard earnings of years of trials and tribulations for the purchase of a stained glass window with my name at the end of it, to be placed in the village church so that those who didn't give a traneen about me when I was alive, including the clergy themselves, may think kindly of me when I am dead.

"'To my son and heir, Henry Joseph Michael John Dorgan, Crown Prince of Goulnaspurra, I bequeath, in recognition of his indifference to me while I lived, one shilling and sixpence, and the Devil's blessing which is commonly called the curse of Cromwell. Besides, I am also desirous that he should inherit my bad temper, bad habits, rheumatics, gout, and all the other hereditary complaints of the family.

"'To my first cousin Padeen Dooley, the King of Ballinadurraka, I bequeath my large hand trowel and hammer, and to the Emperor of Japan I bequeath all my old clothes, either to be used by himself after the invasion of his country by the suffragettes, or to be placed in a museum with other kingly relics, after freedom of speech has killed monarchy. To the clergy I bequeath an abundance of good wishes to be distributed liberally among the poor, so that they may thrive on them in the absence of anything better. To the needy people of all nations, I bequeath the privileges of the army and navy in times of war, and to everyone in general I bequeath all they can get from their friends for nothing.'

"And with that he laid down his pen, closed his eyes, and so passed to the land of no returning Malachi Dorgan, King of Goulnaspurra," said Micus.

By the author of "The Whale and the Grasshopper and Other Fables"

DUTY, and Other Irish Comedies

By SEUMAS O'BRIEN

Frontispiece portrait. 12mo. $1.25 net.

The rich Irish humor and the delightful philosophy of Seumas O'Brien are to be found in the five one-act comedies that make up this volume just as they are ever present in his fiction. "Duty," which is probably the best known of his dramatic work, was performed with great success by the Irish players during their American tour in 1914. The others are entitled "Magnanimity," "Jurisprudence," "Retribution," and "Matchmakers." All of them are notable for hilarious situations, clever character drawing, and bright dialogue, some of it so delicious as to bear comparison with the talk of Thomas Hardy's country folk.

"In Seumas O'Brien I believe that America has found a new humorist of popular sympathies, a rare observer and philosopher whose very absurdities have a persuasive philosophy of their own."--Edward J. O'Brien in the Boston Transcript.

LITTLE, BROWN & CO., Publishers

34 Beacon Street, Boston

End of Project Gutenberg's The Whale and the Grasshopper, by Seumas O'Brien