However, a customer was soon found; and though it was with regret heparted with those master-pieces of work, yet, when he held so muchmoney in his hand, he was delighted, for not only could he buy leatherto make two pairs of shoes, but he could get his wife a few necessariesshe had been long obliged to dispense with.
That evening he cut out two pairs of shoes, ready for the next morning,when, on getting up, he found those finished, with workmanship no lessexcellent than that of the night before.
For these, also, customers were speedily found, at equally goodprices as the previous pair; and that night the Shoemaker cut outfour pairs of shoes, which he again found made to perfection thefollowing morning. Thus it went on, the work that was prepared at nightbeing finished by the morning, so that our good friend soon became aflourishing man; but he and his wife remained as simple in their habitsas of old, preferring to spend what they could spare on their moreneedy neighbours.
Curiosity seems part of a woman's nature, and the Shoemaker's wifecertainly felt very curious to see who their friends were that did thework so beautifully; so she proposed to her husband that they shouldhide themselves, and, leaving a candle burning, watch for their nightlyvisitors.
They did so, and at midnight saw two Dwarfs come in, who immediatelyset to at the work left for them, stitching and hammering away sofast that the Shoemaker felt quite bewildered by their rapidity. Notone moment did they stop, but worked on till all was finished, anddisappeared long before daylight.
Now, if the Shoemaker's wife was curious, she was kind-hearted as well,and was much grieved to see that such good, industrious little fellowsshould be so neglected by their families and friends, for they had nota stitch of clothes on, when it was winter too. Had they no wives or nosisters to look after their comfort? And she proposed to make them adecent suit of clothes each.
The good man was delighted at the proposal; so she bought the stuff,and gave herself but little rest till she had made them a coat,waistcoat, and a pair of trowsers each, as near their shape and size asshe could guess.
As soon as finished, the clothes were left for them instead of thecustomary work, and the shoemaker and his wife again watched theircoming.
About midnight they appeared; and when they found the clothes in placeof their usual work, they stood for a moment irresolute, and then tookup each article, examining it on all sides. They then began to try onthe things, not without making several mistakes, for one of the littlefellows had got his arms into the legs of the trowsers, whilst theother was putting on the waistcoat over the coat. But at length theywere dressed; and having examined each other, and then themselves, theywere so delighted that they set to capering and dancing about theroom, and playing all manner of antics, jumping over the chairs andtumbling over head and heels, till at last they danced out of the roomhand-in-hand.
_The Dwarfs' Capers._]
They did not appear again; but the Shoemaker continued to prosper, andbecame a rich man; he and his wife being respected and loved by all whoknew them.
[Decoration]
XXV.
_The Countryman and the Jew._
There was once a Farmer, a great miser, and he had a servant as simpleas he himself was close, for he had served his master, three yearswithout being offered any wages, or asking for any.
After the three years, however, the man thought he would not work anylonger without pay, so he said to his master, "I have worked for youdiligently and faithfully, and hope you will now give me a fair rewardfor my services."
Knowing that his man was a great simpleton, the farmer gavehim three-pence, saying, "I not only reward you fairly, butsplendidly--here is a penny for each year; but, now that you are rich,do not squander your money and get into idle habits."
The poor fellow thought that he was rich indeed, so determined that hewould not work and slave any longer, but travel and enjoy himself.
With his fortune in his purse, and his purse safely in his pocket, heset out; and as he was going along, singing merrily, a little dwarfcame up and asked him why he was so merry.
"Why should I not be merry," he answered, "for I am rich and havenothing to do but to enjoy myself? I have worked hard for three years,and saved all my earnings."
"And how much might they be?" the little man asked. When told that theamount was three-pence, he said he was very poor, and begged hard forthe money. The Countryman did not make him ask long, and cheerfullygave him his three-pence, when the little fellow said--
"You have a kind, generous heart, and shall not suffer for yourliberality. You shall have three wishes, which shall be grantedyou--one for each penny."
The Countryman was highly rejoiced, and said, "Many thanks, my goodFriend, for your offer; and, first of all, I would like to have a gunwhich will bring down everything that I shoot at; and, secondly, Ichoose a fiddle, to which, when I play, every one must dance, whetherhe will or no. These will satisfy me, so I will not trouble you with athird wish at present."
"Your wishes are soon granted," said the Dwarf, and gave him thedesired gun and fiddle; after which he went his way.
Our friend was happy before, but now his happiness knew no bounds; andhe only wanted an opportunity to try his fiddle, for the gun he hadalready tried several times as he walked along.
The desired opportunity was not long wanting, for he soon met a Jew;and just where they met stood a tree, on one of the branches of whichsat a plump wood-pigeon.
"I wish I had that bird," said the Jew; "could you not shoot it for me,my Friend?"
"That is easily done," was the answer; and the same instant the birdfell amongst some thorn-bushes at the foot of the tree. The Jew creptin among the bushes to pick it up; and no sooner was he in the middlethan the Countryman took his fiddle and played the sprightliest of jigs.
The first sound no sooner reached the Jew's ears than he began todance; and, as the tune went on, he jumped and capered higher andhigher, at every leap he took leaving a piece of his clothes hanging tothe thorns. The thorns soon began to enter his flesh, and, in pain, hecried out--
"For heaven's sake, leave off playing! What have I done to deservethis?"
"What have you done?" said the Countryman. "How many a poor wretch haveyou not ruined! And the duty to avenge them has fallen upon me, so Iwill just play you another tune, and mind you dance well to it."
The Jew then offered him money to give over; but, as his offer did notrise high enough, he had to dance on till, in despair and worn out byfatigue and pain, he said he would give a hundred pieces of gold, whichhe had in his purse. As the purse was thrown down the Countryman'sheart was softened; so he gave over playing, took up the purse and wenthis way, highly delighted with his day's work.
_The Jew's Dance._]
No sooner had he gone than the Jew crept out from among the thorns,half naked, and his heart full of bitterness and revenge. The loss ofhis money smarted even more intolerably than the wounds in his flesh,and he hastened to the nearest judge, to whom he complained how he hadbeen robbed and ill-treated, giving a description of his tormentor.
The judge could not refuse justice to the Jew; so he sent out hisofficers, who soon caught the Countryman, and, brought back, he was putupon his trial.
The Jew's evidence, and the sorry plight he was in, were too convincingto be got over, though the defence was that the money had been given ofhis own account and not taken from him.
The Countryman was condemned to be hanged. He was led off to thegallows at once; but just as the rope was about to be put round hisneck he said--
"My Lord Judge, I cannot complain of the sentence passed upon me, sincemy accuser swears that I robbed and ill-treated him, and I only ask tohave one favour granted me before I die."
"Anything excepting your life," was the answer.
"I do not ask my life, but only that you will order my fiddle to berestored to me, and allow me to play once more upon it."
"No! no! for heaven's sake, no!" cried the Jew. "Don't let him havethat infernal fiddle, my
Lord, or misfortune will come upon the wholeof us." But the judge said his word had been given; so he ordered thefiddle to be given to the prisoner.
The Countryman no sooner had the instrument in his hands than he struckup a dance, and at the very first note even the judge's feet began toshuffle about as he sat in his chair, and as for the others they fairlydanced.
In vain the Jew caught hold of the clerk's desk, for his legs flew outon either side; and as the height of his capers was checked they onlybecame the more frequent.
The judge's clerk, the officers of the court, the hangman, as well asall the spectators, were dancing with all their might, and soon thejudge himself danced out of his chair into the midst of them.
At first all seemed good humour and enjoyment, and no one, exceptingthe Jew, wished to check the general merriment; but as it went on therewere no bounds to the capers, and there were cries of pain, as onealighted on another's toes, and cuffs and blows were exchanged as onejostled the other.
The Jew, who had broken away from his hold of the desk, was the maddestin his capers, and he shrieked for mercy; the others soon joining inthe cry, begged the player to leave off, but he fiddled away faster andfaster till the judge promised him a free pardon.
The Countryman said, "I already once earned the hundred pieces of gold,and I deserve them now again for the dance I have played; so pray, myLord, order the money to be restored to me, or I must think that youare not yet satisfied."
The judge then said the money should be given him; but the Countryman,without leaving off playing, addressed all the other dancers thus, "Youall hear how handsomely his Lordship rewards me, and I expect that eachof you will show your gratitude, for the amusement I have afforded you,by a present; each according to his means."
So anxious were all to put an end to the dance that every one offeredwhat he could afford, but the Countryman said, "I did not hear theJew's voice. Now, of him I have to request a full confession of howhe came by the hundred pieces of gold; and till he has made thisconfession I must trouble you all to continue the dance."
All threatened the Jew with instant death if he did not confess; so therogue was forced to condemn himself by confessing that he stole thehundred pieces of gold; for which he was punished with as many stripes,when the dance was over.
[Decoration]
XXVI.
_My Watch._
I must tell you my story myself, that is the story of my watch, and badluck to it, for it was small comfort to me; and what have I now left ofit, but to tell the trouble it brought upon me?
One day of the year eighteen hundred and thirty-three, Tim Looney, theparish schoolmaster, a mighty learned man, from whom I got my learning,went up to Dublin, to get his lease renewed with 'Squire Beamish, whois now dead and gone, rest his soul. Well, as I was saying, Tim Looneywent up to Dublin, and had just come back, when of course all theneighbours came to hear the news from the big city, and Molly Mahone,as you can imagine, thrust herself before them all, saying--
"Come, you auld pictur card, when are you goin' to tell us the news?What is the good of you, you auld worm, if you canna even speak?"
You know Moll is rather hasty.
"Och, and it's more wonders I have to tell than one of you willbelieve. I saw the great Boneparte riding on a flea, and the Dook ofWellington by his side, quite friendly like." "And was Boneparte a verybig man?" said I.
"I don't know," said Tim; "I've heard say he was a little man, but theycall him the great Boneparte for all that."
"He was a great man," said Moll to me, "just as you are a great fool,so hauld yer tongue, will ye, and let Tim go on."
Tim did go on, and told us many other great wonders; but it's ofmyself I want to speak. Well, then, after Tim had told us all he hadseen, he gave me such a fine large silver watch, and a thirty shillingnote, which my sister, Biddy, had sent from Merica, for me to buy anew fiddle with, for she had heard that I was great in music. I putthe watch in my pocket to keep it safe, and then I examined the noteall over, thinking all the while how beautiful I would play on my newfiddle; but Tim soon stopped me by asking me what o'clock it was.
After looking at the sun, which he himself had taught me, I told him itmust be about two; when he said, "And why can't you look at the watch,and tell me the exact minute it is?"
I didn't look at my watch, for I thought it was making game of me hewas, but I said, "And how should she tell me the time of day? Can shespeak?"
"You are a big fool, Paul," he said; "look at her face, and see whereher hands point to." That she should be able to tell me the time, andhave a face and hands, with which she points, was too much, so I burstout laughing, but I took her out of my pocket.
"There," Tim said, "don't you see something sticking out on her face?Those are her hands, and you see they point to numbers; but may be it'syour numbers you don't know, after all my teaching."
This provoked me, so I looked at what he called her face, and saw thenumbers, sure enough, and the things he called the hands too. "Well,"Tim went on, "and what number does the short hand point to?" "None,"said I, "for it points just half way between the two and the three.""Then the long hand points to six, and it's half-past two it is,"Tim said. "And how does all this happen?" I asked, for I was sorelypuzzled, Tim knowing too where the long hand pointed, without mytelling him.
"Put her up to your ear," he said, "and she will tell you how sheworks."
I did as I was told, and heard her go "tick-a-tick, tick-a-tick." As Ilistened to her a mighty fear came over me, and I flung her from me,crying out, "The crittur does talk some unnatural language, and perhapsshe'll bite too."
Tim caught her, and exclaimed, "What a fool you are, Paul!" for he wasnow quite angry; "if I had not caught her she would have been done forentirely." After he had held her some time in his hands, seeing therewas no harm in her, I took her again and went home. I was half afraidof her, so did not look at her again till night, when the big varmint,Pat Molloy, came in, shouting fit to frighten the life out of one.
"Is it a watch I hear you've got, Paul?"
"Those ugly long ears of yours heard right," I answered, for I did notmuch like Pat. "And may be then you'll be after telling one the timeit is." With that I pulled out the watch, and looked at her; but I hadclean forgotten what Tim had told me, though I recollected somethingabout her hands pointing to a number, so seeing something pointing toseven, I said at once, "It's near seven o'clock," for I did not like tobe looking too long, to be laughed at by that fellow.
"And it's near seven, it is," Pat said. "You're a fine fellow to havea watch. It's a turnip you might as well have in your pocket, forit's long past eight, it is." The pride of the O'Moors and of theO'Doughertys was taken out of me entirely quite by that rascal, for Ifelt it rush from the soles of my feet into my head, but I wouldn't getinto a passion, for him to see that I was in the wrong, so I said, "Andif you know the time so well, why do you ask me?"
Pat only burst into a hoarse laugh, and ran out of the cabin to tellevery one, he could show his ugly face to. I went to bed to drown mytroubles, but it was one long night-mare I had; first the watch andthen the fiddle dancing on my chest, grinning at me all the while, withPat Molloy looking on.
My first thought on waking in the morning was my watch, and looking upto her, for I had hung her on a nail, as I had been told, I said, "Goodmorning to you, how are you this morning, my dear?" for I thought itbest to be civil to her, but no answer did she make me. I spoke to heragain, and as she was still silent I took her down from the nail andheld her to my ear.
"Och, it's dead she is," I cried, as she still gave no signs of life,and I rushed across to Tim's. I knocked at his window, shouting,"Are you awake?" "No," he said; "why should I be awake at this timeo'morning?"
"Then," said I, "you must listen to me in your sleep, for it's deadshe is, and what will I do at all?" "I hope she had the benefit of theClergy," Tim cried, starting up and coming to the window. "It's notthat I mean, it's not my mother at all, it's the watch th
at's dead," Iexplained.
"Leave me in peace then," he said, going back to his bed; but as Iwould not leave him in peace, but kept crying out, "What will I do?" hegrowled, "Wind her up, you fool; she's not dead at all; but give herhere, and the key, or it's ruin her you will."
So I gave him the watch and the barn-door key, which I happened to havein my pocket. It was well for me that I turned my head on one side, asI thought I heard some one coming, for just then the key came whizzingpast my ear.
"I wish it had broken your lubberly head," Tim cried, in the biggestrage I ever saw him. "It's the little key I want; the one with the bitof red tape I gave you yesterday."
I fortunately found the funny little thing in my pocket, but it was nota bit like a key. As soon as I gave it him he twisted and twirled itabout in her, till I heard her cry, and then he said--
"There, take her away, for she is all right again, and mind you don'tlet me see you for a whole week, or surely it's murder you I will."
Now, mind this and you'll see how strangely things come about. If ithad not been for this what Tim said, I should not have had to tell youthe story of my watch, or it would not have ended as it now must. IfTim had told me about winding her up the night before I should not havedisturbed him in the morning, and he would not have been so angry, andwould not have told me not to see him again for a week. He has sincesaid that he did not mean a word of that; and, had I but known it, thattarnation Pat could not have cheated me; however I will tell you how ithappened.