Phelim Otoole's Courtship and Other Stories. William Carleton
at his mother, and then looked more dismally at his father.
“I suppose you're sick too, Phelim,” said the father. “My head's goin' round like a top.”
“Ate your breakfast,” said his mother; it's the best thing for you.”
“Where wor you last night, Phelim?” inquired the father.
“What are you sayin', ould man?”
“Who wor you wid last night?”
“Do, Phelim,” said the mother, “tell us, aroon. I hope it wasn't out you wor. Tell us, avourneen?”
“Ould woman, what are you talking about?”
Phelim whistled “ulican dim oh,” or, “the song of sorrow.” At length he bounced to his feet, and exclaimed in a loud, rapid voice:—“Ma chuirp an diouol! ould couple, but I'm robbed of my ten guineas by Sam Appleton!”
“Robbed by Sam Appleton! Heavens above!” exclaimed the father.
“Robbed by Sam Appleton! Gra machree, Phelim! no, you aren't!” exclaimed the mother.
“Gra machree yourself! but I say I am,” replied Phelim; “robbed clane of every penny of it!”
Phelim then sat down to breakfast—for he was one of those happy mortals whose appetite is rather sharpened by affliction—and immediately related to his father and mother the necessity which Appleton's connection had imposed on him of leaving the country; adding, that while he was in a state of intoxication, he had been stripped of Appleton's clothes; that his own were left beside him; that when he awoke the next morning, he found his borrowed suit gone; that on searching for his own, he found, to his misery, that the ten guineas had disappeared along with Appleton, who, he understood from his father, had “left the neighborhood for a while, till the throuble he was in 'ud pass over.”
“But I know where he's gone,” said Phelim, “an' may the divil's luck go wid him, an' God's curse on the day I ever had anything to do wid that hell-fire Ribbon business! 'Twas he first brought me into it, the villain; an' now I'd give the town land we're in to be fairly out of it.”
“Hanim an diouol!” said the father, “is the ten guineas gone? The curse of hell upon him, for a black desaver! Where's the villain, Phelim?”
“He's gone to America,” replied the son* “The divil tare the tongue out o' myself,' too! I should be puttin' him up to go there, an' to get money, if it was to be had. The villain bit me fairly.”
“Well, but how are we to manage?” inquired Larry. “What's to be done?”
“Why,” said the other, “to bear it an say nothin'. Even if he was in his father's house, the double-faced villain has me so much in his power, that I couldn't say a word about it. My curse on the Ribbon business, I say, from my heart out!”
That day was a very miserable one to Phelim and the father. The loss of the ten guineas, and the feverish sickness produced from their debauch, rendered their situation not enviable. Some other small matters, too, in which Phelim was especially concerned, independent of the awkward situation in which he felt himself respecting the three calls on the following day, which was Sunday, added greater weight to his anxiety. He knew not how to manage, especially upon the subject of his habiliments, which certainly were in a very dilapidated state. An Irishman, however, never despairs. If he has not apparel of his own sufficiently decent to wear on his wedding-day, he borrows from a friend. Phelim and his father remembered that there were several neighbors in the village, who would oblige him with a suit for the wedding; and as to the other necessary expenses, they did what their countrymen are famous for—they trusted to chance.
“We'll work ourselves out of it some way,” said Larry. “Sure, if all fails us, we can sell the goats for the weddin' expenses. It's one comfort that Paddy Donovan must find the dinner; an' all we have to get is the whiskey, the marriage money, an' some other thrifies.”
“They say,” observed Phelim, “that people have more luck whin they're married than whin they're single. I'll have a bout at the marriage, so I will; for worse luck I can't have, if I had half a dozen wives, than I always met wid.”
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