Moiradarlin'?"
"Torpid," said Moira, gazing at him.
"Torpid," agreed the president. "From now on when there's too manydinies we can send somebody runnin' through the streets with a hotplate to call them into cold storage. We've pied pipers at will, tohelp out the black creatures that've done so much for us. If we'veoffended Eire on Earth, by havin' the black creatures to help us, we'resorry. But we had to--till Moira and doubtless St. Patrick gave us theanswer ye saw today. If we're disowned, bedamned if we don't hang on!We can feed ourselves now. We can feed some extra mouths. There'll be aship droppin' by out of curiosity now and then, and we'll trade with'em. If were disowned--we'll be poor. But when were the Irish everrich?"
The committeeman who was a manufacturer of precision machinery moppedhis forehead.
"We're rich now," he said resignedly. "You'd be bound to learn it.D'you know what the dinies' teeth are made of?"
"It's been said," said President O'Hanrahan, "that it's bor ... boroncarbide in organic form. What that means I wouldn't know, but we've gota fine crop of it!"
"It's the next hardest substance to diamond," said the committeemandourly. "It's even been guessed that an organic type might be harder.It's used for the tools for lathes and precision machinery, and itsells at close to the price of diamonds of industrial quality--and I'llmake a deal to handle all we've got. What Earth don't need, otherplanets will. You're rich."
The president stared. Then he gazed at Moira.
"It's a pity we're bein' disowned," he said mournfully. "It would be afine thing to be able to tell the grandfather Eire's rich and can feedmore colonists and even maybe pay back what it's cost to keep us hereso long. It would be a fine thing to hire colonists to build the housesthey'll be given free when they're finished. But since Sean O'Donohueis a stern man----"
The ship owner scratched his head. He'd paused on the way to thepresidential mansion. He'd had restoratives for his distress. He'dlooked at the bottom of a bottle and seen the facts.
"I'll tell yea," he said warmly. "It's the O'Donohue's been battlin' tokeep the colony goin' against the politicians that wanted to economize.He's made a career of believin' in this world. He's ruined if he stops.So it might be that a little bit of blarneyin'--with him desperate tofind reason to stay friends, black creature or no black creatures----"
The president took Moira's hand.
"Come, my darlin'," he said sadly. "We'll reason with him."
* * * * *
Long, long minutes later he shook his head as Sean O'Donohue stormed athim.
"The back o' my hand to you!" said Sean O'Donohue in the veryquintessence of bitterness. "And to Moira, too, if she has more to dowith you! I'll have naught to do with shenanigannin' renegades andblasphemers that actually import snakes into a world St. Patrick hadset off for the Erse from ancient days!"
It was dark in the old man's room. He was a small and pathetic figureunder the covers. He was utterly defiant. He was irreconcilable, to allseeming.
"Renegades!" he said indignantly. "Snakes, yea say? The devil a snakethere is on Eire! I'll admit that we've some good black creatures thatin a bad light and with prejudice yea might mistake. But snakes? Yemight as well call the dinies lizards--those same dinies that arenative Erin porcupines--bad luck to them!"
There was an astounded silence from the bed.
"It's a matter of terminology," said the president sternly. "And it'snot the name that makes a thing, but what it does! _Actio sequituresse_, as the sayin' goes. You'll not be denyin' that! Now, a dinyhangs around a man's house and it eats his food and his tools and it'sno sort of good to anybody while it's alive. Is that the action of alizard? It is not! But it's notorious that porcupines hang around men'shouses and eat the handles of their tools for the salt in them,ignoring' the poor man whose sweat had the salt in it when he waslaborin' to earn a livin' for his family. And when a thing acts like aporcupine, a porcupine it is and nothing else! So a diny is a Eireanporcupine, native to the planet, and no man can deny it!
"And what, then, is a snake?" demanded President O'Hanrahan oratorically."It's a creature that sneaks about upon the ground and poisons by itsbite when it's not blarneyin' unwise females into tasting' apples. Dothe black creatures here do anything of that sort? They do not! They goabout their business plain and open, givin' a half of the road and ahow'd'y-do to those they meet. They're sober and they're industrious.They mind their own business, which is killin' the Eirean porcupines weinaccurate call by the name of dinies. It's their profession! Did yeaever hear of a snake with a profession? I'll not have it said thatthere's snakes on Eire! And I'll denounce yea as a consciencelesspolitician if yea dare to put such a name on the honest, friendly,industrious Eirean porcupine eaters that up to this moment have beenthe savin' of the colony! I'll not have it!"
There was a long silence. Then Sean O'Donohue spoke dryly: "Porcupineeaters, you say? Not snakes?"
"Not snakes!" repeated the president defiantly. "Porcupine eaters!"
"Hm-m-m," said Sean O'Donohue. "That's better. The Dail's not immune toblarney when it's needful to accept it--and Eire back on Earth is hardput for breathin' room you say can be had from now on. What would bethe reason for Moira standin' so close to you?"
"She's marryin' me," said President O'Hanrahan firmly.
Sean O'Donohue's voice was waspish.
"But I forbid it!" it said sharply. "Until I'm up and about and able tobe givin' her in marriage as her grandfather ought to be doin'! Ye'llwait the few days till I'm able! Understand?"
"Yes, sir," said the president. Meekness seemed called for.
"Then begone!" snapped Sean O'Donohue. Then he added sternly:"Remember--no shenanigans!"
The solicitor general watched them depart on a wedding journey to acottage in Ballyhanninch, which was on Donegal Peninsular, fronting onthe Emmett Sea. He waved, like the assembled populace. But when theywere out of sight he said darkly to the chief justice and theChancellor of the Exchequer:
"I didn't have the heart to bring it up before, but there's the devilof a problem buildin' up against the time he comes back."
"Which problem?" asked the Chancellor of the Exchequer, warily.
"It's the sn ... the porcupine killers," said the solicitor general."Things look bad for them. They're out of work. Even Timothy. There'sno dinies to speak of for them to earn a livin' by killin'. It'stechnological unemployment. They earned their way faithful, doin' workthey knew an' loved. Now they're jobless. There's no work for them.What's to be done? Put 'em on re [remainder of text is missing]
There was a pause. The solicitor general said firmly:
"I mean it! They've a claim on us! A claim of the highest order! Theycan't starve, it's sure! But would you have them have to hold massmeetin's and set up picket lines and the like, to get justice donethem?"
"Ah," said the chief justice. "Some way will turn up to handle thematter. Like Sean O'Donohue was sayin' to me yesterday, at the verybottom of a bottle, we Erse can always depend on St. Patrick to takecare of things!"
THE END
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