Sure,
there I was, a made gentleman all my days, if it wasn't my luck,
as I said before.
there I was, a made gentleman all my days, if it wasn't my luck,
as I said before.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v12 - Gre to Hen
'Tis in regard of some
ponies of his that were impounded be Mr. Dawley for trespassing
above here, last night. He hasn't the mains of releasing 'em,
poor craythur, an' he's far from home. I'm sure he's an honest
boy. He says he'd have a good friend in Mr. Cregan, if he
knew he was below. "
"Me? " said Mr. Cregan: "why, what's the fellow's name ? »
Myles Murphy, sir, from Killarney, westwards. "
"Oh, Myles-na-Coppaleen? Poor fellow, is he in tribulation?
We must have his ponies out by all means.
>>
"It requires more courage than I can always command," said
Miss Chute, "to revoke any command of Dawley's. He is an
old man, and whether that he was crossed in love, or from a
natural peevishness of disposition, he is such a morose creature
that I am quite afraid of him. But I will hear this Myles, at all
events. "
She was moving to the door, when her uncle's voice made
her turn.
"Stay, Anne," said Mr. Cregan; "let him come up. "Twill
be as good as a play to hear him and the steward pro and con.
Kyrle Daly here, who is intended for the bar, will be our
assessor, to decide on the points of law. I can tell you, Kyrle,
that Myles will give you a lesson in the art of pleading that
may be of use to you on circuit, at one time or another. "
Anne laughed and looked to Mrs. Chute, who with a smile
of tolerating condescension said, while she cleared with a silken
kerchief the glasses of her spectacles, "If your uncle desires it,
my love, I can see no objection. Those mountaineers are amus-
ing creatures. "
༥
Anne returned to her seat and the conversation proceeded,
while Falvey, with an air of great and perplexed importance,
went to summon Myles up-stairs.
"Mountaineers! " exclaimed Captain Gibson. "You call every
upland a mountain here in Ireland, and every one that lives out
of sight of the sea a mountaineer. "
"But this fellow is a genuine mountaineer," cried Mr. Cre-
gan, "with a cabin two thousand feet above the level of the sea.
If you are in the country next week, and will come down and
see us at the Lakes, along with our friends here, I promise to
show you as sturdy a race of mountaineers as any in Europe.
Doctor Leake can give you a history of 'em up to Noah's flood,
## p. 6702 (#78) ############################################
6702
GERALD GRIFFIN
some time when you're alone together when the country was
first peopled by one Parable, or Sparable. ”
"Paralon," said Dr. Leake; "Paralon, or Migdonia, as the Psalter
sings:
'On the fourteenth day, being Tuesday,
They brought their bold ships to anchor,
In the blue fair port, with beauteous shore,
Of well-defended Inver Sceine. '
>>
"In the rest of Munster, where -
"Yes; well, you'll see 'em all, as the doctor says, if you come
to Killarney," resumed Mr. Cregan, interrupting the latter, to
whose discourse a country residence, a national turn of character,
and a limited course of reading had given a tinge of pedantry;
and who was moreover a firm believer in all the ancient Shana-
chus, from the Yellow Book of Moling to the Black Book of
Molega. "And if you like to listen to him, he'll explain to you
every action that ever befell, on land or water, from Ross Castle
up to Carrigaline. "
Kyrle, who felt both surprise and concern at learning that
Miss Chute was leaving home so soon, and without having
thought it worth her while to make him aware of her intention,
was about to address her on the subject, when the clatter of a
pair of heavy and well-paved brogues on the small flight of stairs
in the lobby produced a sudden hush of expectation amongst
the company. They heard Pat Falvey urging some instructions
in a low and smothered tone, to which a strong and not unmusi-
cal voice replied, in that complaining accent which distinguishes
the dialect of the more western descendants of Heber: "Ah, lay
me alone, you foolish boy; do you think did I never speak to
quollity in my life before? »
The door opened, and the uncommissioned master of horse
made his appearance. His appearance was at once strikingly
majestic and prepossessing, and the natural ease and dignity with
which he entered the room might almost have become a peer
of the realm coming to solicit the interest of the family for an
electioneering candidate. A broad and sunny forehead, light and
wavy hair, a blue cheerful eye, a nose that in Persia might have
won him a throne, healthful cheeks, a mouth that was full of
character, and a well-knit and almost gigantic person, constituted
his external claims to attention, of which his lofty and confident
## p. 6703 (#79) ############################################
GERALD GRIFFIN
6703
although most unassuming carriage showed him to be in some
degree conscious. He wore a complete suit of brown frieze, with
a gay-colored cotton handkerchief around his neck, blue worsted
stockings, and brogues carefully greased; while he held in his
right hand an immaculate felt hat, the purchase of the preced-
ing day's fair. In the left he held a straight-handled whip and
a wooden rattle, which he used for the purpose of collecting his
ponies when they happened to straggle. An involuntary mur-
mur of admiration ran amongst the guests at his entrance. Dr.
Leake was heard to pronounce him a true Gadelian, and Captain
Gibson thought he would cut a splendid figure in a helmet and
cuirass, under one of the arches in the Horse Guards.
Before he had spoken, and while the door yet remained open,
Hyland Creagh roused Pincher with a chirping noise, and gave
him the well-known countersign of "Baithershin! "
Pincher waddled towards the door, raised himself on his
hind legs, closed it fast, and then trotted back to his master's
feet, followed by the staring and bewildered gaze of the mount-
aineer.
I never
"Well," he exclaimed, "that flogs cock-fighting!
thought I'd live to have
have a dog taich me manners, anyway.
'Baithershin,' says he, an' he shets the door like a Christian! "
The mountaineer now commenced a series of most profound
obeisances to every individual of the company, beginning with
the ladies and ending with the officer; after which he remained
glancing from one to another with a smile of mingled sadness
and courtesy, as if waiting, like an evoked spirit, the spell-word
of the enchantress who had called him up. "Tisn't manners to
speak first before quollity," was the answer he would have been
prepared to render, in case any one had inquired the motive of
his conduct.
"Well, Myles, what wind has brought you to this part of the
country? " said Mr. Barney Cregan.
"The ould wind always then, Mr. Cregan," said Myles, with
another deep obeisance, "seeing would I get a feow o' the ponies
off. Long life to you, sir; I was proud to hear you wor above
stairs, for it isn't the first time you stood my friend in trouble.
My father (the heavens be his bed this day! ) was a fosterer o'
your uncle Mick's, an' a first an' second cousin, be the mother's
side, to ould Mrs. O'Leary, your Honor's aunt, westward. So 'tis
kind for your Honor to have a leanin' towards uz. "
## p. 6704 (#80) ############################################
6704
GERALD GRIFFIN
"A clear case, Myles; but what have you to say to Mrs. Chute
about the trespass ? »
"What have I to say to her? why then, a deal. It's a long
while since I see her now, an' she wears finely, the Lord bless
her! Ah, Miss Anne! -Oyeh, murther! murther! Sure, I'd know
that face all over the world—your own livin' image, ma'am"
(turning to Mrs. Chute), "an' a little dawny touch o' the master
(heaven rest his soul! ) about the chin, you'd think. My grand-
mother an' himself wor third cousins. Oh, vo! vo! "
"He has made out three relations in the company already,"
said Anne to Kyrle: could any courtier make interest more
skillfully? "
"Well, Myles, about the ponies. "
"Poor craturs, true for you, sir. There's Mr. Creagh there,
long life to him, knows how well I airn 'em for ponies. You
seen what trouble I had with 'em, Mr. Creagh, the day you
fought the jewel with young M'Farlane from the north. They
went skelping like mad over the hills down to Glena, when they
heerd the shot. Ah, indeed, Mr. Creagh, you cowed the north-
country man that morning fairly. My honor is satisfied,' says
he, 'if Mr. Creagh will apologize. ' 'I didn't come to the ground
to apologize,' says Mr. Creagh; 'it's what I never done to any
man,' says he, and it'll be long from me to do it to you. '
'Well, my honor is satisfied anyway,' says the other, when he
heerd the pistols cocking for a second shot. I thought I'd split
laughing. "
<<
"Pooh, pooh! nonsense, man," said Creagh, endeavoring to
hide a smile of gratified vanity. "Your unfortunate ponies will
starve while you stay inventing wild stories. "
"He has gained another friend since," whispered Miss Chute.
"Invent! " echoed the mountaineer. "There's Docthor Leake
was on the spot, an' he knows if I invent. An' you did a good
job too that time, docthor," he continued, turning to the latter;
"old Keys the piper gives it up to you, of all the docthors going,
for curing his eyesight. An' he has a great leaning to you, more-
over, you're such a fine Irishian. "
"Another," said Miss Chute, apart.
"Yourself an' ould Mr. Daly," he continued. "I hope the mas-
ter is well in his health, sir? " (turning to Kyrle with another
profound congé. ) "May the Lord fasten the life in you an' him!
That's a gentleman that wouldn't see a poor boy in want of his
## p. 6705 (#81) ############################################
GERALD GRIFFIN
6705
supper or a bed to sleep in, an' he far from his own people, nor
persecute him in regard of a little trespass that was done un-
known. "
"This fellow is irresistible," said Kyrle: "a perfect Ulysses.
"And have you nothing to say to the captain, Myles? Is he
no relation of yours? "
"The captain, Mr. Cregan? Except in so far as we are all
servants of the Almighty and children of Adam, I know of none.
But I have a feeling for the red coat, for all. I have three
brothers in the army, serving in America; one of 'em was made
a corporal, or an admiral, or some ral or another, for behavin'
well at Quaybec, the time of Woulf's death. The English showed
themselves a great people that day, surely. "
Having thus secured to himself what lawyers call "the ear of
the court," the mountaineer proceeded to plead the cause of his
ponies with much force and pathos, dwelling on their distance
from home, their wild habits of life, which left them ignorant of
the common rules of boundaries, inclosures, and field gates, set-
ting forth with equal emphasis the length of road they had trav-
eled, their hungry condition, and the barrenness of the common.
on which they had been turned out; and finally urged in miti-
gation of penalty the circumstances of this being a first offense,
and the improbability of its being ever renewed in future.
The surly old steward Dan Dawley was accordingly summoned
for the purpose of ordering the discharge of the prisoners, a com-
mission which he received with a face as black as winter. Miss
Anne might "folly her liking," he said, "but it was the last time.
he'd ever trouble himself about damage or trespass any more.
What affair was it of his, if all the horses in the barony were
turned loose into the kitchen garden itself? "
་
« Horses, do you call 'em? " exclaimed Myles, bending on the
old man a frown of dark remonstrance. "A parcel of little ponies
not the height o' that chair. "
"What signify is it? " snarled the steward: "they'd eat as
much an' more than a racer. "
"Is it they, the craturs? They'd hardly injure a plate of stir-
about if it was put before 'em. "
«< Ayeh! hugh! "
"An' 'tisn't what I'd expect from you, Mr. Dawley, to be going
again' a relation o' your own in this manner. "
XII-420
## p. 6706 (#82) ############################################
6706
GERALD GRIFFIN
"A relation o' mine! " growled Dawley, scarcely deigning to
glance back over his shoulder as he hobbled out of the
cast a
room.
"Yes then, o' yours. "
Dawley paused at the door and looked back.
"Will you deny it o' me if you can," continued Myles, fixing
his eye on him, "that Biddy Nale, your own gossip, an' Larry
Foley, wor second cousins? Deny that o' me, if you can. ”
"For what would I deny it?
"Well, why! An' Larry Foley was uncle to my father's first
wife. (The angels spread her bed this night! ) An' I tell you
another thing: the Dawleys would cut a poor figure in many
a fair westwards, if they hadn't the Murphys to back 'em, so
they would; but what hurt? Sure, you can folly your own
pleasure. "
The old steward muttered something which nobody could hear,
and left the room. Myles of the Ponies, after many profound
bows to all his relations, and a profusion of thanks to the ladies,
followed him, and was observed in a few minutes after on the
avenue, talking with much earnestness and apparent agitation
to Lowry Looby. Kyrle Daly, who remembered the story of the
mountaineer's misfortune at Owen's Garden, concluded that Lowry
was making him aware of the abduction of the beautiful Eily.
HOW MR. DALY THE MIDDLEMAN ROSE UP FROM BREAKFAST
From The Collegians'
THE
HE person who opened the door acted as a kind of herdsman
or out-door servant to the family, and was a man of a rather
singular appearance. The nether parts of his frame were
of a size considerably out of proportion with the trunk and head
which they supported. His feet were broad and flat like those
of a duck; his legs long and clumsy, with knees and ankles like.
the knobs on one of those grotesque walking-sticks which were
in fashion among the fine gentlemen of our own day, some time
since; his joints hung loosely like those of a pasteboard Merry
Andrew; his body was very small, his chest narrow, and his head
so diminutive as to be even too little for his herring shoulders.
It seemed as if Nature, like an extravagant projector, had laid
## p. 6707 (#83) ############################################
GERALD GRIFFIN
6707
the foundation of a giant, but running short of material as the
structure proceeded, had been compelled to terminate her under-
taking within the dimensions of a dwarf. So far was this econ-
omy pursued that the head, small as it was, was very scantily
furnished with hair, and the nose with which the face was gar-
nished might be compared for its flatness to that of a young kid.
"It looked," as the owner of this mournful piece of journey-work
himself facetiously observed, "as if his head was not thought
worth a roof nor his countenance worth a handle. " His hands
and arms were likewise of a smallness which was much to be
admired, when contrasted with the hugeness of the lower mem-
bers, and brought to mind the fore-paws of a kangaroo or the
fins of a seal; the latter similitude prevailing when the body was
put in motion, on which occasions they dabbled about in a very
extraordinary manner. But there was one feature in which a cor-
responding prodigality had been manifested; namely, the ears,
which were as long as those of Riquet with the Tuft, or of any
ass in the barony.
The costume which enveloped this singular frame was no less
anomalous than was the nature of its own construction.
A huge
riding-coat of gray frieze hung lazily from his shoulders, and gave
to view in front a waistcoat of calfskin with the hairy side out-
ward; a shirt of a texture almost as coarse as sail-cloth, made
from the refuse of flax; and a pair of corduroy nether garments,
with two bright new patches upon the knees. Gray worsted
stockings, with dogskin brogues well paved in the sole and
greased until they shone again, completed the personal adorn-
ments of this unaspiring personage. On the whole, his appear-
ance might have brought to the recollection of a modern beholder
one of those architectural edifices so fashionable in our time, in
which the artist, with an admirable ambition, seeks to unite all
that is excellent in the Tuscan, Doric, Corinthian, and Ionic
orders, in one coup d'œil.
The expression of the figure, though it varied with circum-
stances, was for the most part thoughtful and deliberative; the
effect, in a great measure, of habitual penury and dependence.
At the time of Lord Halifax's administration, Lowry Looby, then
a very young man, held a spot of ground in the neighborhood
of Limerick, and was well-to-do in the world; but the scarcity
which prevailed in England at the time, and which occasioned
a sudden rise in the price of bere, butter, and other produce of
## p. 6708 (#84) ############################################
6708
GERALD GRIFFIN
grazing land in Ireland, threw all the agriculturists out of their
little holdings and occasioned a general destitution, similar to
that produced by the anti-cottier system in the present day.
Lowry was among the sufferers. He was saved, however, from
the necessity of adopting one of the three ultimata of Irish
misery begging, enlisting, or emigrating-by the kindness of
Mr. Daly, who took him into his service as a kind of runner
between his farms; an office for which Lowry, by his long and
muscular legs and the lightness of the body that incumbered
them, was qualified in an eminent degree. His excelling honesty,
one of the characteristics of his country, which he was known to
possess, rendered him a still more valuable acquisition to the
family than had been at first anticipated. He had moreover the
national talent for adroit flattery, a quality which made him
more acceptable to his patron than the latter would willingly
admit; and every emulsion of this kind was applied under the
disguise of a simpleness which gave it a wonderful efficacy.
"Ha, Lowry! " said Mr. Daly. "Well, have you made your
fortune since you have agreed with the postmaster? "
Lowry put his hands behind his back, looked successively at
the four corners of the room, then round the cornice; then cast
his eyes down at his feet, turned up the soles a little, and finally,
straightening his person and gazing on his master, replied, "To
lose it I did, sir, for a place. "
"To lose what? "
"The place of postman, sir, through the country westwards.
Sure, there I was a gentleman for life, if it wasn't my luck. "
"I do not understand you, Lowry. "
"I'll tell you how it was, masther. After the last postman
died, sir, I took your ricommendation to the postmasther an'
axed him for the place. 'I'm used to thravelin', sir,' says I, 'for
Misther Daly, over, and—' 'Ay,' says he, takin' me up short,
'an' you have a good long pair o' legs, I see. ' 'Middlin', sir,'
says I (he's a very pleasant gentleman); 'it's equal to me any
day, winther or summer, whether I go ten miles or twenty, so as
I have the nourishment. ' 'Twould be hard if you didn't get
that, anyway,' says he: 'well, I think I may as well give you
the place, for I don't know any gentleman that I'd sooner take
his ricommendation than Misther Daly's, or one that I'd sooner
pay him a compliment, if I could. '»
"Well, and what was your agreement? "
## p. 6709 (#85) ############################################
GERALD GRIFFIN
6709
"Ten pounds a year, sir," answered Lowry, opening his
eyes as if he announced something of wonderful importance, and
speaking in a loud voice, to suit the magnitude of the sum;
"besides my clothing and shoes throughout the year. "
"'Twas very handsome, Lowry. "
"Handsome, masther? 'Twas wages for a prince, sir.
Sure,
there I was, a made gentleman all my days, if it wasn't my luck,
as I said before. "
"Well, and how did you lose it? ”
་
"I'll tell you, sir," answered Lowry: "I was going over to
the postmasther yesterday, to get the Thralee mail from him, and
to start off with myself on my first journey. Well an' good, of
all the world who should I meet above upon the road, just at
the turn down to the post-office, but that red-headed woman that
sells the freestone in the sthreets? So I turned back. "
"Turned back! for what? "
"Sure, the world knows, masther, that it isn't lucky to meet a
red-haired woman, and you going of a journey. "
"And you never went for the mail-bags ? »
"Faiks, I'm sure I didn't that day. "
"Well, and the next morning? "
"The next morning, that's this morning, when I went, I
found they had engaged another boy in my place. "
"And you lost the situation? »
"For this turn, sir, anyway. 'Tis luck that does it all. Sure,
I thought I was cocksure of it, an' I having the postmasther's
word. But indeed, if I meet that freestone crathur again, I'll
knock her red head against the wall. "
"Well, Lowry, this ought to show you the folly of your
superstition. If you had not minded that woman when you met
her, you might have had your situation now. "
'Twas she was in fault still, begging your pardon, sir," said
Lowry; "for sure, if I didn't meet her at all, this wouldn't have
happened me. "
"Oh," said Mr. Daly laughing, "I see you are well provided
against all argument. I have no more to say, Lowry. "
The man now walked slowly towards Kyrle, and bending down
with a look of solemn importance as if he had some weighty
intelligence to communicate, he said, "The horse, sir, is ready
this way, at the door abroad. »
"Very well, Lowry. I shall set out this instant. "
## p. 6710 (#86) ############################################
6710
GERALD GRIFFIN
Lowry raised himself erect again, turned slowly round, and
walked to the door, with his eyes on the ground and his hand
raised to his temple, as if endeavoring to recollect something
further which he had intended to say.
"Lowry! " said Mr. Daly, as the handle of the door was
turned a second time. Lowry looked round.
"Lowry, tell me, did you see Eily O'Connor, the ropemaker's
daughter, at the fair of Garryowen yesterday? "
"Ah, you're welcome to your game, masther. "
«Pon my word, then, Eily is a very pretty girl, Lowry; and
I'm told the old father can give her something besides her pretty
face. "
Lowry opened his huge mouth (we forgot to mention that it
was a huge one), and gave vent to a few explosions of laughter
which much more nearly resembled the braying of an ass.
« You
are welcome to your game, masther," he repeated; "long life to
your Honor. »
"But is it true, Lowry, as I have heard it insinuated, that
old Mihil O'Connor used, and still does, twist ropes for the use
of the county jail? "
Lowry closed his lips hard, while the blood rushed into his
face at this unworthy allegation. Treating it however as a new
piece of "the masther's game," he laughed and tossed his head.
"Folly on, sir, folly on. "
"Because if that were the case, Lowry, I should expect to
find you a fellow of too much spirit to become connected, even
by affinity, with such a calling. A ropemaker! a manufacturer
of rogues' last neckcloths—an understrapper to the gallows — a
species of collateral hangman! "
-
"Ah then, missiz, do you hear this? and all rising out of a
little ould fable of a story that happened as good as five years
ago, because Moriarty the crooked hangman (the thief! ) stepped
into Mihil's little place of a night, and nobody knowin' of him,
an' bought a couple o' pen'orth o' whipcord for some vagary or
other of his own. And there's all the call Mihil O'Connor had
ever to gallowses or hangmen in his life. That's the whole toto
o' their insiniwaytions. "
"Never mind your master, Lowry," said Mrs. Daly: "he is
only amusing himself with you. "
"Oh, ha! I'm sure I know it, ma'am: long life to him, and
'tis he that's welcome to his joke. '
>>
## p. 6711 (#87) ############################################
GERALD GRIFFIN
6711
"But, Lowry—»
"Ah, Heaven bless you now, masther, an' let me alone.
say nothing to you. "
I'll
"Nay, nay, I only wanted to ask you what sort of a fair it
was at Garryowen yesterday. "
"Middling, sir, like the small piatees, they tell me," said
Lowry, suddenly changing his manner to an appearance of serious
occupation; "but 'tis hard to make out what sort a fair is, when
one has nothing to sell himself. I met a huxter, an' she told me
'twas a bad fair, because she could not sell her piggins; an' I
met a pig-jobber, an' he told me 'twas a dear fair, pork ran so
high; an' I met another little meagre creatur, a neighbor that has
a cabin on the road above, an' he said 'twas the best fair that
ever come out o' the sky, because he got a power for his pig.
But Mr. Hardress Cregan was there, an' if he didn't make it a
dear fair to some of 'em, you may call me an honest man. "
"A very notable undertaking that would be, Lowry. But how
was it? »
"Some o' them boys,-them Garryowen lads, sir,- to get about
Danny Mann, the Lord, Mr. Hardress's boatman, as he was comin'
down from Mihil's with a new rope for some part o' the boat,
and to begin reflecting on him in regard o' the hump on his back,
poor creatur! Well, if they did, Masther Hardress heerd 'em; and
he having a stout blackthorn in his hand, this way, and he made
up to the foremost of 'em. 'What's that you're saying, you
scoundrel? ' says he. 'What would you give to know? ' says the
other, mighty impudent. Masther Hardress made no more, only
up with the stick, and without saying this or that, or by your
leave, or how do you do, he stretched him. Well, such a scuffle
as began among 'em was never seen. They all fell upon Masther
Hardress, but faix, they had only the half of it, for he made his
way through the thick of 'em without as much as a mark. Aw,
indeed, it isn't a goose or a duck they had to do with when they
came across Mr. Cregan, for all. "
"And where were you all this while, Lowry? "
"Above in Mihil's door, standin' and lookin' about the fair
for myself. "
"And Eily? "
"Ah, hear to this again, now! I'll run away out o' the place
entirely from you, masther, that's what I'll do;" and suiting the
action to the phrase, exit Lowry Looby.
## p. 6712 (#88) ############################################
6712
GERALD GRIFFIN
OLD TIMES! OLD TIMES!
LD times! old times! the gay old times!
When I was young and free,
And heard the merry Easter chimes
Under the sally-tree;
O'
My Sunday palm beside me placed,
My cross upon my hand,
A heart at rest within my breast,
And sunshine on the land!
Old times! Old times!
It is not that my fortunes flee,
Nor that my cheek is pale-
I mourn whene'er I think of thee,
My darling native vale!
A wiser head I have, I know,
Than when I loitered there;
But in my wisdom there is woe,
And in my knowledge, care.
Old times! Old times!
I've lived to know my share of joy,
To feel my share of pain,
To learn that friendship's self can cloy,
To love, and love in vain,
To feel a pang and wear a smile,
To tire of other climes,
To like my own unhappy isle,
And sing the gay old times!
Old times! Old times!
And sure, the land is nothing changed,
The birds are singing still;
The flowers are springing where we ranged;
There's sunshine on the hill!
The sally, waving o'er my head,
Still sweetly shades my frame
But ah, those happy days are fled,
And I am not the same!
Old times! Old times!
Oh, come again, ye merry times,
Sweet, sunny, fresh, and calm!
## p. 6713 (#89) ############################################
GERALD GRIFFIN
6713
And let me hear those Easter chimes,
And wear my Sunday palm.
If I could cry away mine eyes,
My tears would flow in vain;
If I could waste my heart in sighs,
They'll never come again!
Old times! Old times!
A PLACE IN THY MEMORY, DEAREST
A
PLACE in thy memory, dearest,
Is all that I claim:
To pause and look back when thou hearest
The sound of my name.
Another may woo thee, nearer,
Another may win and wear;
I care not though he be dearer,
If I am remembered there.
Remember me - not as a lover
Whose hope was crossed,
Whose bosom can never recover
The light it hath lost:
As the young bride remembers the mother
She loves, though she never may see,
As a sister remembers a brother,
O dearest! remember me.
Could I be thy true lover, dearest,
Couldst thou smile on me,
I would be the fondest and nearest
That ever loved thee!
But a cloud on my pathway is glooming
That never must burst upon thine;
And Heaven, that made thee all blooming,
Ne'er made thee to wither on mine.
Remember me, then! oh remember
My calm, light love;
Though bleak as the blasts of November
My life may prove,
That life will, though lonely, be sweet,
If its brightest enjoyment should be
A smile and kind word when we meet,
And a place in thy memory.
## p. 6714 (#90) ############################################
6714
FRANZ GRILLPARZER
(1791-1872)
RILLPARZER, the most distinguished dramatist that Austria has
produced, was born in Vienna on January 15th, 1791. His
father, an esteemed advocate of the Austrian capital, seems
to have been, like Goethe's father, a man of cold austerity. His
mother, on the other hand, had a deeply emotional nature, lived in
a world of music, and ended her life a suicide. From her, as in
the case of so many poets, Grillparzer derived his poetic gifts and
his musical taste. At the age of twenty-two he entered the service
of the State, in which he remained until
at his own request he was retired on a
pension in 1856. In 1847 he was made a
member of the Royal Academy of Sciences.
In his quiet and well-ordered life there
is little that is striking to record; its most
picturesque periods were those of his ex-
tensive travels in Turkey, Italy, and Greece.
Of these travels he has left fragmentary
accounts in his volume of autobiographical
sketches.
In literature Grillparzer took his own
independent course. He was filled with the
spirit of Greek tragedy; but far from at-
tempting a strict modern adaptation of the
classic forms, he gave his plays a frankly romantic and sentimental
coloring. He made a close study of the Spanish drama, but was not
dominated by it. Shakespeare, too, whose colossal genius had first
created and then crushed the German drama, never overmastered
Grillparzer. Among his autobiographical works occurs this remark-
able passage:
FRANZ GRILLPARZER
"You ask what books I shall take with me? Many and few: Herodotus,
Plutarch, and the two Spanish dramatists. And not Shakespeare? Not Shake-
speare; although he is perhaps the greatest thing the modern world has pro-
duced-not Shakespeare! He tyrannizes over my mind, and I wish to remain
free. I thank God for him, and that it was my good fortune to read and
re-read him and make him mine; but now I strive to forget him. The
ancients strengthen me; the Spaniards inspire me to produce; . . but the
## p. 6715 (#91) ############################################
FRANZ GRILL PARZER
6715
giant Shakespeare usurps the place of nature, whose most glorious organ of
expression he was; and whoever gives himself up to him will, to every ques-
tion asked of nature, forever receive an answer from Shakespeare only. No
more Shakespeare! German literature will be ruined in that very abyss out
of which it once arose; but I will be free and independent. »
Grillparzer's public career as a dramatist began in 1817 with the
famous tragedy of Die Ahnfrau' (The Ancestress), which is typical
of the class to which it belongs, the so-called tragedies of fate. Two
years later came Sappho. ' In Byron's Journal, under date of Janu-
ary 12th, 1821, we find this entry: -
(
"Read the Italian translation by Guido Sorelli of the German Grillparzer -
a devil of a name, to be sure, for posterity, but they must learn to pronounce
it: the tragedy of Sappho is superb and sublime. There is no denying it.
The man has done a great thing in writing that play. And who is he? I
know him not; but ages will. 'Tis a high intellect; Grillparzer is grand,
antique,-not so simple as the ancients, but very simple for a modern,- too
Madame De Staël-ish now and then, but altogether a great and goodly writer. "
This critical estimate is singularly just. What Grillparzer lacks
in simplicity is offset by his lyric tenderness and portrayal of com-
plex emotions. In 1831 was performed 'Des Meeres und der Liebe
Wellen (The Waves of the Sea and of Love). Grillparzer was con-
scious that the title was affected. The theme is the tale of Hero
and Leander. "It was my purpose," he wrote, "to indicate at the
outset that although of an antique coloring, my treatment of the
material was intended to be romantic. In short, it was an attempt
to combine the two dramatic styles. " This confirms Byron's judg-
ment. There was something of timidity in Grillparzer's nature; the
first acts are often grand and imposing, but the catastrophe fre-
quently passes away in an elegiac mood, like fading music. But he
has produced plays in his own peculiar manner which are full of
genuine humanity and vigorous dramatic action, and their place is
still secure in the repertory of the German stage.
Grillparzer's collected works fill sixteen volumes. His most extens-
ive undertaking was the trilogy of Das Goldene Vliess' (The Golden
Fleece), of which 'Medea' is still a favorite. The most important of
his works is 'King Ottokar,' which occupies a place in the national
life of Austria comparable to that held by Shakespeare's historical
plays in English literature; and the excellent tragedy 'Ein Treuer
Diener seines Herrn' (A Faithful Servant of his Master) is likewise
the product of Austrian national life. The direct influence of Cal-
deron is manifest in the fairy-tale character of the charming drama
'Der Traum, ein Leben' (Dream is a Life), in which the title of
the famous Spanish play is reversed.
## p. 6716 (#92) ############################################
6716
FRANZ GRILLPARZER
Grillparzer's comedy 'Weh' dem der Lügt' (Woe to Him who
Lies) was not at first a success, and for a long time thereafter the
poet refused in disgust to submit his dramas to the stage.
The play
subsequently became popular, but this disregard of all pecuniary con-
siderations in relation to his plays was characteristic of Grillparzer.
At Beethoven's request he wrote the opera text of 'Melusine,' and
the poet has told us in his recollections of Beethoven how insistent
the composer was that a contract be drawn dividing the proceeds.
But Grillparzer refused to allow this: he was satisfied to know that
Beethoven liked his poem and was willing to devote his genius to
giving it a musical setting. The great composer died before the
music had taken definite form, and it was Grillparzer's office to de-
liver the funeral oration. "I loved Beethoven," he says simply in one
of his touching paragraphs.
Grillparzer outlived his productivity, but his fame increased. At
the celebration of his eightieth birthday, honors were showered thick
upon him. He was named by the side of Goethe and Schiller, and
the highest aristocracy of that most aristocratic land joined with the
common people to do him homage. In the following year — January
21st, 1872-Grillparzer died. His place in the front rank of German
dramatists is as assured to-day as when, at the culmination of a long
life, all Germany brought tributes to the genius of the greatest of
Austrian poets.
SAPPHO AND PHAON
From Sappho
Phaon lies slumbering on the grassy bank
Sappho [entering from grotto] —
T'S
Is all in vain! Rebellious to my will,
Thought wanders and returns, void of all sense;
Whilst ever and anon, whate'er I do,
Before me stands that horrid, hated sight
I fain would flee from, e'en beyond this earth.
How he upheld her! How she clasped his arm!
Till, gently yielding to its soft embrace,
She on his lips Away! away the thought!
For in that thought are deaths innumerable.
But why torment myself, and thus complain
Of what perhaps is after all a dream?
Who knows what transient feeling, soon forgot,
## p. 6717 (#93) ############################################
FRANZ GRILLPARZER
6717
What momentary impulse, led him on,
Which quickly passed, e'en as it quickly came,
Unheeded, undeserving of reproach?
Who bade me seek the measure of his love
Within my own impassioned, aching breast?
Ye who have studied life with earnest care,
By man's affection judge not woman's heart.
A restless thing is his impetuous soul
The slave of change, and changing with each change.
Boldly man enters on the path of life, '
Illumined by the morning ray of hope;
Begirt with sword and shield, courage and faith,
Impatient to commence a glorious strife.
Too narrow seems to him domestic joy;
His wild ambition overleaps repose,
And hurries madly on through endless space;
And if upon his wayward path he meets
The humble, beauteous flower called love,
And should he stoop to raise it from the earth,
He coldly places it upon his helm.
He knoweth not what holy, ardent flame
It doth awaken in a woman's heart;
How all her being - every thought-each wish-
Revolves forever on this single point.
Like to the young bird, round its mother's nest
While fluttering, doth her anxious boding care
Watch o'er her love; her cradle and her grave,
Her whole of life- —a jewel of rich price—
She hangs upon the bosom of her faith.
Man loves, 'tis true; but his capacious heart
Finds room for other feelings than his love,
And much that woman's purity condemns
He deems amusement or an idle jest.
A kiss from other lips he takes at will.
Alas that this is so! yet so it is.
[Turns and sees Phaon sleeping.
Ha, see! Beneath the shadow of yon rose
The faithless dear one slumbers. Ay, he sleeps,
And quiet rest hath settled on his brow.
Thus only slumbers gentle innocence;
Alone thus gently breathes th' unburdened breast.
## p. 6718 (#94) ############################################
6718
FRANZ GRILLPARZER
Yes, dearest!
ponies of his that were impounded be Mr. Dawley for trespassing
above here, last night. He hasn't the mains of releasing 'em,
poor craythur, an' he's far from home. I'm sure he's an honest
boy. He says he'd have a good friend in Mr. Cregan, if he
knew he was below. "
"Me? " said Mr. Cregan: "why, what's the fellow's name ? »
Myles Murphy, sir, from Killarney, westwards. "
"Oh, Myles-na-Coppaleen? Poor fellow, is he in tribulation?
We must have his ponies out by all means.
>>
"It requires more courage than I can always command," said
Miss Chute, "to revoke any command of Dawley's. He is an
old man, and whether that he was crossed in love, or from a
natural peevishness of disposition, he is such a morose creature
that I am quite afraid of him. But I will hear this Myles, at all
events. "
She was moving to the door, when her uncle's voice made
her turn.
"Stay, Anne," said Mr. Cregan; "let him come up. "Twill
be as good as a play to hear him and the steward pro and con.
Kyrle Daly here, who is intended for the bar, will be our
assessor, to decide on the points of law. I can tell you, Kyrle,
that Myles will give you a lesson in the art of pleading that
may be of use to you on circuit, at one time or another. "
Anne laughed and looked to Mrs. Chute, who with a smile
of tolerating condescension said, while she cleared with a silken
kerchief the glasses of her spectacles, "If your uncle desires it,
my love, I can see no objection. Those mountaineers are amus-
ing creatures. "
༥
Anne returned to her seat and the conversation proceeded,
while Falvey, with an air of great and perplexed importance,
went to summon Myles up-stairs.
"Mountaineers! " exclaimed Captain Gibson. "You call every
upland a mountain here in Ireland, and every one that lives out
of sight of the sea a mountaineer. "
"But this fellow is a genuine mountaineer," cried Mr. Cre-
gan, "with a cabin two thousand feet above the level of the sea.
If you are in the country next week, and will come down and
see us at the Lakes, along with our friends here, I promise to
show you as sturdy a race of mountaineers as any in Europe.
Doctor Leake can give you a history of 'em up to Noah's flood,
## p. 6702 (#78) ############################################
6702
GERALD GRIFFIN
some time when you're alone together when the country was
first peopled by one Parable, or Sparable. ”
"Paralon," said Dr. Leake; "Paralon, or Migdonia, as the Psalter
sings:
'On the fourteenth day, being Tuesday,
They brought their bold ships to anchor,
In the blue fair port, with beauteous shore,
Of well-defended Inver Sceine. '
>>
"In the rest of Munster, where -
"Yes; well, you'll see 'em all, as the doctor says, if you come
to Killarney," resumed Mr. Cregan, interrupting the latter, to
whose discourse a country residence, a national turn of character,
and a limited course of reading had given a tinge of pedantry;
and who was moreover a firm believer in all the ancient Shana-
chus, from the Yellow Book of Moling to the Black Book of
Molega. "And if you like to listen to him, he'll explain to you
every action that ever befell, on land or water, from Ross Castle
up to Carrigaline. "
Kyrle, who felt both surprise and concern at learning that
Miss Chute was leaving home so soon, and without having
thought it worth her while to make him aware of her intention,
was about to address her on the subject, when the clatter of a
pair of heavy and well-paved brogues on the small flight of stairs
in the lobby produced a sudden hush of expectation amongst
the company. They heard Pat Falvey urging some instructions
in a low and smothered tone, to which a strong and not unmusi-
cal voice replied, in that complaining accent which distinguishes
the dialect of the more western descendants of Heber: "Ah, lay
me alone, you foolish boy; do you think did I never speak to
quollity in my life before? »
The door opened, and the uncommissioned master of horse
made his appearance. His appearance was at once strikingly
majestic and prepossessing, and the natural ease and dignity with
which he entered the room might almost have become a peer
of the realm coming to solicit the interest of the family for an
electioneering candidate. A broad and sunny forehead, light and
wavy hair, a blue cheerful eye, a nose that in Persia might have
won him a throne, healthful cheeks, a mouth that was full of
character, and a well-knit and almost gigantic person, constituted
his external claims to attention, of which his lofty and confident
## p. 6703 (#79) ############################################
GERALD GRIFFIN
6703
although most unassuming carriage showed him to be in some
degree conscious. He wore a complete suit of brown frieze, with
a gay-colored cotton handkerchief around his neck, blue worsted
stockings, and brogues carefully greased; while he held in his
right hand an immaculate felt hat, the purchase of the preced-
ing day's fair. In the left he held a straight-handled whip and
a wooden rattle, which he used for the purpose of collecting his
ponies when they happened to straggle. An involuntary mur-
mur of admiration ran amongst the guests at his entrance. Dr.
Leake was heard to pronounce him a true Gadelian, and Captain
Gibson thought he would cut a splendid figure in a helmet and
cuirass, under one of the arches in the Horse Guards.
Before he had spoken, and while the door yet remained open,
Hyland Creagh roused Pincher with a chirping noise, and gave
him the well-known countersign of "Baithershin! "
Pincher waddled towards the door, raised himself on his
hind legs, closed it fast, and then trotted back to his master's
feet, followed by the staring and bewildered gaze of the mount-
aineer.
I never
"Well," he exclaimed, "that flogs cock-fighting!
thought I'd live to have
have a dog taich me manners, anyway.
'Baithershin,' says he, an' he shets the door like a Christian! "
The mountaineer now commenced a series of most profound
obeisances to every individual of the company, beginning with
the ladies and ending with the officer; after which he remained
glancing from one to another with a smile of mingled sadness
and courtesy, as if waiting, like an evoked spirit, the spell-word
of the enchantress who had called him up. "Tisn't manners to
speak first before quollity," was the answer he would have been
prepared to render, in case any one had inquired the motive of
his conduct.
"Well, Myles, what wind has brought you to this part of the
country? " said Mr. Barney Cregan.
"The ould wind always then, Mr. Cregan," said Myles, with
another deep obeisance, "seeing would I get a feow o' the ponies
off. Long life to you, sir; I was proud to hear you wor above
stairs, for it isn't the first time you stood my friend in trouble.
My father (the heavens be his bed this day! ) was a fosterer o'
your uncle Mick's, an' a first an' second cousin, be the mother's
side, to ould Mrs. O'Leary, your Honor's aunt, westward. So 'tis
kind for your Honor to have a leanin' towards uz. "
## p. 6704 (#80) ############################################
6704
GERALD GRIFFIN
"A clear case, Myles; but what have you to say to Mrs. Chute
about the trespass ? »
"What have I to say to her? why then, a deal. It's a long
while since I see her now, an' she wears finely, the Lord bless
her! Ah, Miss Anne! -Oyeh, murther! murther! Sure, I'd know
that face all over the world—your own livin' image, ma'am"
(turning to Mrs. Chute), "an' a little dawny touch o' the master
(heaven rest his soul! ) about the chin, you'd think. My grand-
mother an' himself wor third cousins. Oh, vo! vo! "
"He has made out three relations in the company already,"
said Anne to Kyrle: could any courtier make interest more
skillfully? "
"Well, Myles, about the ponies. "
"Poor craturs, true for you, sir. There's Mr. Creagh there,
long life to him, knows how well I airn 'em for ponies. You
seen what trouble I had with 'em, Mr. Creagh, the day you
fought the jewel with young M'Farlane from the north. They
went skelping like mad over the hills down to Glena, when they
heerd the shot. Ah, indeed, Mr. Creagh, you cowed the north-
country man that morning fairly. My honor is satisfied,' says
he, 'if Mr. Creagh will apologize. ' 'I didn't come to the ground
to apologize,' says Mr. Creagh; 'it's what I never done to any
man,' says he, and it'll be long from me to do it to you. '
'Well, my honor is satisfied anyway,' says the other, when he
heerd the pistols cocking for a second shot. I thought I'd split
laughing. "
<<
"Pooh, pooh! nonsense, man," said Creagh, endeavoring to
hide a smile of gratified vanity. "Your unfortunate ponies will
starve while you stay inventing wild stories. "
"He has gained another friend since," whispered Miss Chute.
"Invent! " echoed the mountaineer. "There's Docthor Leake
was on the spot, an' he knows if I invent. An' you did a good
job too that time, docthor," he continued, turning to the latter;
"old Keys the piper gives it up to you, of all the docthors going,
for curing his eyesight. An' he has a great leaning to you, more-
over, you're such a fine Irishian. "
"Another," said Miss Chute, apart.
"Yourself an' ould Mr. Daly," he continued. "I hope the mas-
ter is well in his health, sir? " (turning to Kyrle with another
profound congé. ) "May the Lord fasten the life in you an' him!
That's a gentleman that wouldn't see a poor boy in want of his
## p. 6705 (#81) ############################################
GERALD GRIFFIN
6705
supper or a bed to sleep in, an' he far from his own people, nor
persecute him in regard of a little trespass that was done un-
known. "
"This fellow is irresistible," said Kyrle: "a perfect Ulysses.
"And have you nothing to say to the captain, Myles? Is he
no relation of yours? "
"The captain, Mr. Cregan? Except in so far as we are all
servants of the Almighty and children of Adam, I know of none.
But I have a feeling for the red coat, for all. I have three
brothers in the army, serving in America; one of 'em was made
a corporal, or an admiral, or some ral or another, for behavin'
well at Quaybec, the time of Woulf's death. The English showed
themselves a great people that day, surely. "
Having thus secured to himself what lawyers call "the ear of
the court," the mountaineer proceeded to plead the cause of his
ponies with much force and pathos, dwelling on their distance
from home, their wild habits of life, which left them ignorant of
the common rules of boundaries, inclosures, and field gates, set-
ting forth with equal emphasis the length of road they had trav-
eled, their hungry condition, and the barrenness of the common.
on which they had been turned out; and finally urged in miti-
gation of penalty the circumstances of this being a first offense,
and the improbability of its being ever renewed in future.
The surly old steward Dan Dawley was accordingly summoned
for the purpose of ordering the discharge of the prisoners, a com-
mission which he received with a face as black as winter. Miss
Anne might "folly her liking," he said, "but it was the last time.
he'd ever trouble himself about damage or trespass any more.
What affair was it of his, if all the horses in the barony were
turned loose into the kitchen garden itself? "
་
« Horses, do you call 'em? " exclaimed Myles, bending on the
old man a frown of dark remonstrance. "A parcel of little ponies
not the height o' that chair. "
"What signify is it? " snarled the steward: "they'd eat as
much an' more than a racer. "
"Is it they, the craturs? They'd hardly injure a plate of stir-
about if it was put before 'em. "
«< Ayeh! hugh! "
"An' 'tisn't what I'd expect from you, Mr. Dawley, to be going
again' a relation o' your own in this manner. "
XII-420
## p. 6706 (#82) ############################################
6706
GERALD GRIFFIN
"A relation o' mine! " growled Dawley, scarcely deigning to
glance back over his shoulder as he hobbled out of the
cast a
room.
"Yes then, o' yours. "
Dawley paused at the door and looked back.
"Will you deny it o' me if you can," continued Myles, fixing
his eye on him, "that Biddy Nale, your own gossip, an' Larry
Foley, wor second cousins? Deny that o' me, if you can. ”
"For what would I deny it?
"Well, why! An' Larry Foley was uncle to my father's first
wife. (The angels spread her bed this night! ) An' I tell you
another thing: the Dawleys would cut a poor figure in many
a fair westwards, if they hadn't the Murphys to back 'em, so
they would; but what hurt? Sure, you can folly your own
pleasure. "
The old steward muttered something which nobody could hear,
and left the room. Myles of the Ponies, after many profound
bows to all his relations, and a profusion of thanks to the ladies,
followed him, and was observed in a few minutes after on the
avenue, talking with much earnestness and apparent agitation
to Lowry Looby. Kyrle Daly, who remembered the story of the
mountaineer's misfortune at Owen's Garden, concluded that Lowry
was making him aware of the abduction of the beautiful Eily.
HOW MR. DALY THE MIDDLEMAN ROSE UP FROM BREAKFAST
From The Collegians'
THE
HE person who opened the door acted as a kind of herdsman
or out-door servant to the family, and was a man of a rather
singular appearance. The nether parts of his frame were
of a size considerably out of proportion with the trunk and head
which they supported. His feet were broad and flat like those
of a duck; his legs long and clumsy, with knees and ankles like.
the knobs on one of those grotesque walking-sticks which were
in fashion among the fine gentlemen of our own day, some time
since; his joints hung loosely like those of a pasteboard Merry
Andrew; his body was very small, his chest narrow, and his head
so diminutive as to be even too little for his herring shoulders.
It seemed as if Nature, like an extravagant projector, had laid
## p. 6707 (#83) ############################################
GERALD GRIFFIN
6707
the foundation of a giant, but running short of material as the
structure proceeded, had been compelled to terminate her under-
taking within the dimensions of a dwarf. So far was this econ-
omy pursued that the head, small as it was, was very scantily
furnished with hair, and the nose with which the face was gar-
nished might be compared for its flatness to that of a young kid.
"It looked," as the owner of this mournful piece of journey-work
himself facetiously observed, "as if his head was not thought
worth a roof nor his countenance worth a handle. " His hands
and arms were likewise of a smallness which was much to be
admired, when contrasted with the hugeness of the lower mem-
bers, and brought to mind the fore-paws of a kangaroo or the
fins of a seal; the latter similitude prevailing when the body was
put in motion, on which occasions they dabbled about in a very
extraordinary manner. But there was one feature in which a cor-
responding prodigality had been manifested; namely, the ears,
which were as long as those of Riquet with the Tuft, or of any
ass in the barony.
The costume which enveloped this singular frame was no less
anomalous than was the nature of its own construction.
A huge
riding-coat of gray frieze hung lazily from his shoulders, and gave
to view in front a waistcoat of calfskin with the hairy side out-
ward; a shirt of a texture almost as coarse as sail-cloth, made
from the refuse of flax; and a pair of corduroy nether garments,
with two bright new patches upon the knees. Gray worsted
stockings, with dogskin brogues well paved in the sole and
greased until they shone again, completed the personal adorn-
ments of this unaspiring personage. On the whole, his appear-
ance might have brought to the recollection of a modern beholder
one of those architectural edifices so fashionable in our time, in
which the artist, with an admirable ambition, seeks to unite all
that is excellent in the Tuscan, Doric, Corinthian, and Ionic
orders, in one coup d'œil.
The expression of the figure, though it varied with circum-
stances, was for the most part thoughtful and deliberative; the
effect, in a great measure, of habitual penury and dependence.
At the time of Lord Halifax's administration, Lowry Looby, then
a very young man, held a spot of ground in the neighborhood
of Limerick, and was well-to-do in the world; but the scarcity
which prevailed in England at the time, and which occasioned
a sudden rise in the price of bere, butter, and other produce of
## p. 6708 (#84) ############################################
6708
GERALD GRIFFIN
grazing land in Ireland, threw all the agriculturists out of their
little holdings and occasioned a general destitution, similar to
that produced by the anti-cottier system in the present day.
Lowry was among the sufferers. He was saved, however, from
the necessity of adopting one of the three ultimata of Irish
misery begging, enlisting, or emigrating-by the kindness of
Mr. Daly, who took him into his service as a kind of runner
between his farms; an office for which Lowry, by his long and
muscular legs and the lightness of the body that incumbered
them, was qualified in an eminent degree. His excelling honesty,
one of the characteristics of his country, which he was known to
possess, rendered him a still more valuable acquisition to the
family than had been at first anticipated. He had moreover the
national talent for adroit flattery, a quality which made him
more acceptable to his patron than the latter would willingly
admit; and every emulsion of this kind was applied under the
disguise of a simpleness which gave it a wonderful efficacy.
"Ha, Lowry! " said Mr. Daly. "Well, have you made your
fortune since you have agreed with the postmaster? "
Lowry put his hands behind his back, looked successively at
the four corners of the room, then round the cornice; then cast
his eyes down at his feet, turned up the soles a little, and finally,
straightening his person and gazing on his master, replied, "To
lose it I did, sir, for a place. "
"To lose what? "
"The place of postman, sir, through the country westwards.
Sure, there I was a gentleman for life, if it wasn't my luck. "
"I do not understand you, Lowry. "
"I'll tell you how it was, masther. After the last postman
died, sir, I took your ricommendation to the postmasther an'
axed him for the place. 'I'm used to thravelin', sir,' says I, 'for
Misther Daly, over, and—' 'Ay,' says he, takin' me up short,
'an' you have a good long pair o' legs, I see. ' 'Middlin', sir,'
says I (he's a very pleasant gentleman); 'it's equal to me any
day, winther or summer, whether I go ten miles or twenty, so as
I have the nourishment. ' 'Twould be hard if you didn't get
that, anyway,' says he: 'well, I think I may as well give you
the place, for I don't know any gentleman that I'd sooner take
his ricommendation than Misther Daly's, or one that I'd sooner
pay him a compliment, if I could. '»
"Well, and what was your agreement? "
## p. 6709 (#85) ############################################
GERALD GRIFFIN
6709
"Ten pounds a year, sir," answered Lowry, opening his
eyes as if he announced something of wonderful importance, and
speaking in a loud voice, to suit the magnitude of the sum;
"besides my clothing and shoes throughout the year. "
"'Twas very handsome, Lowry. "
"Handsome, masther? 'Twas wages for a prince, sir.
Sure,
there I was, a made gentleman all my days, if it wasn't my luck,
as I said before. "
"Well, and how did you lose it? ”
་
"I'll tell you, sir," answered Lowry: "I was going over to
the postmasther yesterday, to get the Thralee mail from him, and
to start off with myself on my first journey. Well an' good, of
all the world who should I meet above upon the road, just at
the turn down to the post-office, but that red-headed woman that
sells the freestone in the sthreets? So I turned back. "
"Turned back! for what? "
"Sure, the world knows, masther, that it isn't lucky to meet a
red-haired woman, and you going of a journey. "
"And you never went for the mail-bags ? »
"Faiks, I'm sure I didn't that day. "
"Well, and the next morning? "
"The next morning, that's this morning, when I went, I
found they had engaged another boy in my place. "
"And you lost the situation? »
"For this turn, sir, anyway. 'Tis luck that does it all. Sure,
I thought I was cocksure of it, an' I having the postmasther's
word. But indeed, if I meet that freestone crathur again, I'll
knock her red head against the wall. "
"Well, Lowry, this ought to show you the folly of your
superstition. If you had not minded that woman when you met
her, you might have had your situation now. "
'Twas she was in fault still, begging your pardon, sir," said
Lowry; "for sure, if I didn't meet her at all, this wouldn't have
happened me. "
"Oh," said Mr. Daly laughing, "I see you are well provided
against all argument. I have no more to say, Lowry. "
The man now walked slowly towards Kyrle, and bending down
with a look of solemn importance as if he had some weighty
intelligence to communicate, he said, "The horse, sir, is ready
this way, at the door abroad. »
"Very well, Lowry. I shall set out this instant. "
## p. 6710 (#86) ############################################
6710
GERALD GRIFFIN
Lowry raised himself erect again, turned slowly round, and
walked to the door, with his eyes on the ground and his hand
raised to his temple, as if endeavoring to recollect something
further which he had intended to say.
"Lowry! " said Mr. Daly, as the handle of the door was
turned a second time. Lowry looked round.
"Lowry, tell me, did you see Eily O'Connor, the ropemaker's
daughter, at the fair of Garryowen yesterday? "
"Ah, you're welcome to your game, masther. "
«Pon my word, then, Eily is a very pretty girl, Lowry; and
I'm told the old father can give her something besides her pretty
face. "
Lowry opened his huge mouth (we forgot to mention that it
was a huge one), and gave vent to a few explosions of laughter
which much more nearly resembled the braying of an ass.
« You
are welcome to your game, masther," he repeated; "long life to
your Honor. »
"But is it true, Lowry, as I have heard it insinuated, that
old Mihil O'Connor used, and still does, twist ropes for the use
of the county jail? "
Lowry closed his lips hard, while the blood rushed into his
face at this unworthy allegation. Treating it however as a new
piece of "the masther's game," he laughed and tossed his head.
"Folly on, sir, folly on. "
"Because if that were the case, Lowry, I should expect to
find you a fellow of too much spirit to become connected, even
by affinity, with such a calling. A ropemaker! a manufacturer
of rogues' last neckcloths—an understrapper to the gallows — a
species of collateral hangman! "
-
"Ah then, missiz, do you hear this? and all rising out of a
little ould fable of a story that happened as good as five years
ago, because Moriarty the crooked hangman (the thief! ) stepped
into Mihil's little place of a night, and nobody knowin' of him,
an' bought a couple o' pen'orth o' whipcord for some vagary or
other of his own. And there's all the call Mihil O'Connor had
ever to gallowses or hangmen in his life. That's the whole toto
o' their insiniwaytions. "
"Never mind your master, Lowry," said Mrs. Daly: "he is
only amusing himself with you. "
"Oh, ha! I'm sure I know it, ma'am: long life to him, and
'tis he that's welcome to his joke. '
>>
## p. 6711 (#87) ############################################
GERALD GRIFFIN
6711
"But, Lowry—»
"Ah, Heaven bless you now, masther, an' let me alone.
say nothing to you. "
I'll
"Nay, nay, I only wanted to ask you what sort of a fair it
was at Garryowen yesterday. "
"Middling, sir, like the small piatees, they tell me," said
Lowry, suddenly changing his manner to an appearance of serious
occupation; "but 'tis hard to make out what sort a fair is, when
one has nothing to sell himself. I met a huxter, an' she told me
'twas a bad fair, because she could not sell her piggins; an' I
met a pig-jobber, an' he told me 'twas a dear fair, pork ran so
high; an' I met another little meagre creatur, a neighbor that has
a cabin on the road above, an' he said 'twas the best fair that
ever come out o' the sky, because he got a power for his pig.
But Mr. Hardress Cregan was there, an' if he didn't make it a
dear fair to some of 'em, you may call me an honest man. "
"A very notable undertaking that would be, Lowry. But how
was it? »
"Some o' them boys,-them Garryowen lads, sir,- to get about
Danny Mann, the Lord, Mr. Hardress's boatman, as he was comin'
down from Mihil's with a new rope for some part o' the boat,
and to begin reflecting on him in regard o' the hump on his back,
poor creatur! Well, if they did, Masther Hardress heerd 'em; and
he having a stout blackthorn in his hand, this way, and he made
up to the foremost of 'em. 'What's that you're saying, you
scoundrel? ' says he. 'What would you give to know? ' says the
other, mighty impudent. Masther Hardress made no more, only
up with the stick, and without saying this or that, or by your
leave, or how do you do, he stretched him. Well, such a scuffle
as began among 'em was never seen. They all fell upon Masther
Hardress, but faix, they had only the half of it, for he made his
way through the thick of 'em without as much as a mark. Aw,
indeed, it isn't a goose or a duck they had to do with when they
came across Mr. Cregan, for all. "
"And where were you all this while, Lowry? "
"Above in Mihil's door, standin' and lookin' about the fair
for myself. "
"And Eily? "
"Ah, hear to this again, now! I'll run away out o' the place
entirely from you, masther, that's what I'll do;" and suiting the
action to the phrase, exit Lowry Looby.
## p. 6712 (#88) ############################################
6712
GERALD GRIFFIN
OLD TIMES! OLD TIMES!
LD times! old times! the gay old times!
When I was young and free,
And heard the merry Easter chimes
Under the sally-tree;
O'
My Sunday palm beside me placed,
My cross upon my hand,
A heart at rest within my breast,
And sunshine on the land!
Old times! Old times!
It is not that my fortunes flee,
Nor that my cheek is pale-
I mourn whene'er I think of thee,
My darling native vale!
A wiser head I have, I know,
Than when I loitered there;
But in my wisdom there is woe,
And in my knowledge, care.
Old times! Old times!
I've lived to know my share of joy,
To feel my share of pain,
To learn that friendship's self can cloy,
To love, and love in vain,
To feel a pang and wear a smile,
To tire of other climes,
To like my own unhappy isle,
And sing the gay old times!
Old times! Old times!
And sure, the land is nothing changed,
The birds are singing still;
The flowers are springing where we ranged;
There's sunshine on the hill!
The sally, waving o'er my head,
Still sweetly shades my frame
But ah, those happy days are fled,
And I am not the same!
Old times! Old times!
Oh, come again, ye merry times,
Sweet, sunny, fresh, and calm!
## p. 6713 (#89) ############################################
GERALD GRIFFIN
6713
And let me hear those Easter chimes,
And wear my Sunday palm.
If I could cry away mine eyes,
My tears would flow in vain;
If I could waste my heart in sighs,
They'll never come again!
Old times! Old times!
A PLACE IN THY MEMORY, DEAREST
A
PLACE in thy memory, dearest,
Is all that I claim:
To pause and look back when thou hearest
The sound of my name.
Another may woo thee, nearer,
Another may win and wear;
I care not though he be dearer,
If I am remembered there.
Remember me - not as a lover
Whose hope was crossed,
Whose bosom can never recover
The light it hath lost:
As the young bride remembers the mother
She loves, though she never may see,
As a sister remembers a brother,
O dearest! remember me.
Could I be thy true lover, dearest,
Couldst thou smile on me,
I would be the fondest and nearest
That ever loved thee!
But a cloud on my pathway is glooming
That never must burst upon thine;
And Heaven, that made thee all blooming,
Ne'er made thee to wither on mine.
Remember me, then! oh remember
My calm, light love;
Though bleak as the blasts of November
My life may prove,
That life will, though lonely, be sweet,
If its brightest enjoyment should be
A smile and kind word when we meet,
And a place in thy memory.
## p. 6714 (#90) ############################################
6714
FRANZ GRILLPARZER
(1791-1872)
RILLPARZER, the most distinguished dramatist that Austria has
produced, was born in Vienna on January 15th, 1791. His
father, an esteemed advocate of the Austrian capital, seems
to have been, like Goethe's father, a man of cold austerity. His
mother, on the other hand, had a deeply emotional nature, lived in
a world of music, and ended her life a suicide. From her, as in
the case of so many poets, Grillparzer derived his poetic gifts and
his musical taste. At the age of twenty-two he entered the service
of the State, in which he remained until
at his own request he was retired on a
pension in 1856. In 1847 he was made a
member of the Royal Academy of Sciences.
In his quiet and well-ordered life there
is little that is striking to record; its most
picturesque periods were those of his ex-
tensive travels in Turkey, Italy, and Greece.
Of these travels he has left fragmentary
accounts in his volume of autobiographical
sketches.
In literature Grillparzer took his own
independent course. He was filled with the
spirit of Greek tragedy; but far from at-
tempting a strict modern adaptation of the
classic forms, he gave his plays a frankly romantic and sentimental
coloring. He made a close study of the Spanish drama, but was not
dominated by it. Shakespeare, too, whose colossal genius had first
created and then crushed the German drama, never overmastered
Grillparzer. Among his autobiographical works occurs this remark-
able passage:
FRANZ GRILLPARZER
"You ask what books I shall take with me? Many and few: Herodotus,
Plutarch, and the two Spanish dramatists. And not Shakespeare? Not Shake-
speare; although he is perhaps the greatest thing the modern world has pro-
duced-not Shakespeare! He tyrannizes over my mind, and I wish to remain
free. I thank God for him, and that it was my good fortune to read and
re-read him and make him mine; but now I strive to forget him. The
ancients strengthen me; the Spaniards inspire me to produce; . . but the
## p. 6715 (#91) ############################################
FRANZ GRILL PARZER
6715
giant Shakespeare usurps the place of nature, whose most glorious organ of
expression he was; and whoever gives himself up to him will, to every ques-
tion asked of nature, forever receive an answer from Shakespeare only. No
more Shakespeare! German literature will be ruined in that very abyss out
of which it once arose; but I will be free and independent. »
Grillparzer's public career as a dramatist began in 1817 with the
famous tragedy of Die Ahnfrau' (The Ancestress), which is typical
of the class to which it belongs, the so-called tragedies of fate. Two
years later came Sappho. ' In Byron's Journal, under date of Janu-
ary 12th, 1821, we find this entry: -
(
"Read the Italian translation by Guido Sorelli of the German Grillparzer -
a devil of a name, to be sure, for posterity, but they must learn to pronounce
it: the tragedy of Sappho is superb and sublime. There is no denying it.
The man has done a great thing in writing that play. And who is he? I
know him not; but ages will. 'Tis a high intellect; Grillparzer is grand,
antique,-not so simple as the ancients, but very simple for a modern,- too
Madame De Staël-ish now and then, but altogether a great and goodly writer. "
This critical estimate is singularly just. What Grillparzer lacks
in simplicity is offset by his lyric tenderness and portrayal of com-
plex emotions. In 1831 was performed 'Des Meeres und der Liebe
Wellen (The Waves of the Sea and of Love). Grillparzer was con-
scious that the title was affected. The theme is the tale of Hero
and Leander. "It was my purpose," he wrote, "to indicate at the
outset that although of an antique coloring, my treatment of the
material was intended to be romantic. In short, it was an attempt
to combine the two dramatic styles. " This confirms Byron's judg-
ment. There was something of timidity in Grillparzer's nature; the
first acts are often grand and imposing, but the catastrophe fre-
quently passes away in an elegiac mood, like fading music. But he
has produced plays in his own peculiar manner which are full of
genuine humanity and vigorous dramatic action, and their place is
still secure in the repertory of the German stage.
Grillparzer's collected works fill sixteen volumes. His most extens-
ive undertaking was the trilogy of Das Goldene Vliess' (The Golden
Fleece), of which 'Medea' is still a favorite. The most important of
his works is 'King Ottokar,' which occupies a place in the national
life of Austria comparable to that held by Shakespeare's historical
plays in English literature; and the excellent tragedy 'Ein Treuer
Diener seines Herrn' (A Faithful Servant of his Master) is likewise
the product of Austrian national life. The direct influence of Cal-
deron is manifest in the fairy-tale character of the charming drama
'Der Traum, ein Leben' (Dream is a Life), in which the title of
the famous Spanish play is reversed.
## p. 6716 (#92) ############################################
6716
FRANZ GRILLPARZER
Grillparzer's comedy 'Weh' dem der Lügt' (Woe to Him who
Lies) was not at first a success, and for a long time thereafter the
poet refused in disgust to submit his dramas to the stage.
The play
subsequently became popular, but this disregard of all pecuniary con-
siderations in relation to his plays was characteristic of Grillparzer.
At Beethoven's request he wrote the opera text of 'Melusine,' and
the poet has told us in his recollections of Beethoven how insistent
the composer was that a contract be drawn dividing the proceeds.
But Grillparzer refused to allow this: he was satisfied to know that
Beethoven liked his poem and was willing to devote his genius to
giving it a musical setting. The great composer died before the
music had taken definite form, and it was Grillparzer's office to de-
liver the funeral oration. "I loved Beethoven," he says simply in one
of his touching paragraphs.
Grillparzer outlived his productivity, but his fame increased. At
the celebration of his eightieth birthday, honors were showered thick
upon him. He was named by the side of Goethe and Schiller, and
the highest aristocracy of that most aristocratic land joined with the
common people to do him homage. In the following year — January
21st, 1872-Grillparzer died. His place in the front rank of German
dramatists is as assured to-day as when, at the culmination of a long
life, all Germany brought tributes to the genius of the greatest of
Austrian poets.
SAPPHO AND PHAON
From Sappho
Phaon lies slumbering on the grassy bank
Sappho [entering from grotto] —
T'S
Is all in vain! Rebellious to my will,
Thought wanders and returns, void of all sense;
Whilst ever and anon, whate'er I do,
Before me stands that horrid, hated sight
I fain would flee from, e'en beyond this earth.
How he upheld her! How she clasped his arm!
Till, gently yielding to its soft embrace,
She on his lips Away! away the thought!
For in that thought are deaths innumerable.
But why torment myself, and thus complain
Of what perhaps is after all a dream?
Who knows what transient feeling, soon forgot,
## p. 6717 (#93) ############################################
FRANZ GRILLPARZER
6717
What momentary impulse, led him on,
Which quickly passed, e'en as it quickly came,
Unheeded, undeserving of reproach?
Who bade me seek the measure of his love
Within my own impassioned, aching breast?
Ye who have studied life with earnest care,
By man's affection judge not woman's heart.
A restless thing is his impetuous soul
The slave of change, and changing with each change.
Boldly man enters on the path of life, '
Illumined by the morning ray of hope;
Begirt with sword and shield, courage and faith,
Impatient to commence a glorious strife.
Too narrow seems to him domestic joy;
His wild ambition overleaps repose,
And hurries madly on through endless space;
And if upon his wayward path he meets
The humble, beauteous flower called love,
And should he stoop to raise it from the earth,
He coldly places it upon his helm.
He knoweth not what holy, ardent flame
It doth awaken in a woman's heart;
How all her being - every thought-each wish-
Revolves forever on this single point.
Like to the young bird, round its mother's nest
While fluttering, doth her anxious boding care
Watch o'er her love; her cradle and her grave,
Her whole of life- —a jewel of rich price—
She hangs upon the bosom of her faith.
Man loves, 'tis true; but his capacious heart
Finds room for other feelings than his love,
And much that woman's purity condemns
He deems amusement or an idle jest.
A kiss from other lips he takes at will.
Alas that this is so! yet so it is.
[Turns and sees Phaon sleeping.
Ha, see! Beneath the shadow of yon rose
The faithless dear one slumbers. Ay, he sleeps,
And quiet rest hath settled on his brow.
Thus only slumbers gentle innocence;
Alone thus gently breathes th' unburdened breast.
## p. 6718 (#94) ############################################
6718
FRANZ GRILLPARZER
Yes, dearest!
