Cushag

“ Child dances, throwing things at Hommy, and hitting him with besom; till at last Hommy gets up on table again, playing faster and faster.
Hommy [stopping suddenly] : Whisht! Whisht! Here’s Herself comin’! thank my stars! What in ever will she say!
Child creeps into cradle, drawing shawls and rugs over himself, and begins whining and moaning. Hommy tries clumsily to get down from table.
Mrs. Gale [standing at door with hands uplifted] : What in all the world is the meaning of this? ”

“ It’s only you an’ me, Lizzie, that’s got any hope at all, but look how strong the feeling is in the both of us? The people is all tellin’ me for to give up hoping, an’ they’re saying that you should be giving him up too; but after all, Lizzie veen, what’s our Jem to all them wans? It’s to us, who love him, the signs come.
Lizzie: It is so, Mrs. Fayle, an’ I was wanting to tell you that I, too, have been so uplifted in my heart all this day that I was just coming over to see you.
Mrs. F.: There’s always signs in for those that will be looking for them. ”

“ Mrs. F.: Well enough, well enough, thank you, an’ I’m not mindin’ the coul an’ I’m not mindin’ the heat, for when we’re wonderin’ in the mornin’–will he come this everin’–an’ in th’ everin’–will he come in th’ mornin’–the days is much alike. Are you ready, Lizzie veen?
Lizzie: Aw, sit a lil while Mrs. Fayle, dear. Sure Kirry here is tired, for she’s had a long thramp from Lherghy Rennie over. Stop an’ take ress for a bit now, an’ then we’ll take her a piece of the road home on our way to meet Jem.
Kirry [hastily] : Never mind me at all. I’ll do all right an’ wait here by the fire a bit. ”

“ But it's only to wait for the Lord's own time,
An' He will be taking me Home.
BONS.
It'll be in the teens of years I'm livin' here alone,
An' the house is bare at me, too, like a ness
when the birds is flown;
But the days is lonelier far pas' what it is in the night,
For then I'm stirrin' the bons till the house is
full of light.
And then I'm seein' the lumpers all playin' about on the flure,
With pussy-bogh sthretchin' her back, and Daa
comin' in on the dhure;
An' a long little family at us, Henery, John, an' Lil,
An' wan that was took at the Angels, an' Miriam Maud, an' Bill. ”

“ Kirry [looking warningly at Bobby] : It will be the cat, it’s like, that’s been doin’ havock on the table.
Lizzie: But there’s no cat in now–not since poor pussy-bogh was stole.
Kirry: There’s plenty strange cats goin’ roun’ on the houses though at this time of year.
Bobby: Deed Lizzie an’ I saw a cat in this very house–an’ a fine big wan she was too–an’ long claws on her–
Kirry: Is that Bobby’s Daa callin’? [Listening at door and shaking her fist at him behind Lizzie’s back.] You’ll catch it, Bobby, if you don’t run.
Bobby [going slowly] : Cats is middlin’ inquisitive, too. ”

“ Till th' everin' come down, an' the misthress come roun'—
An' she said we was Scandalous Lazy!
THE KING'S VISIT.
What are ye shoutin' Lizzie? I'm comin' so
quick as I can,
An' what call have you to be talkin' with every
passin' young man!
The King! What King is there on ye—chut—
capers—an' up these hills!
Aw, well! Is it raelly the King, though? An' me
in my dishabills!
Give us a heis up the hedge, gel—we'll be seein'
handy from theer,
To think of the King of Englan' comin' all the
way up here! ”

“ Mrs. Gale: Aw, tejus scandalous. My word, there’s no ress at us night or day. Himself walkin’ the flure with him all night. I don’t know what’s doin’ on him.
Hommy [looking down wisely through his spectacles at cradle] : He’s lookin’ middlin’ wickad too. [Child yells.]
Mrs. Gale [angrily] : Don’t be sayin’ such things an’ him in pain, perhaps, poor lil sowl. There’s something must be hurtin’ him to make him so cross. An’ not able to put a foot to the ground yet.
Hommy: Aw, indade! They’re sayin’ it’s very backward he is.
Mrs. Gale: He is that–but he’s cuttin’ his teeth fine, for all. ”

“ God help her of His grace!
Like a lapwing over the meadow she has flown to her wounded mate;
One broken sob; then steady! sthe tears can be made to wait.
What recks she how it happened, or where the fault may lie,
She only knows that the sunshine is all gone out of her sky.
"GREAT STORE." Tired an' oul' an' wore
An' a lif' at these wans when I'm took!
But the Lord will send in His own good time,
That never His poor forsook.
The walls is goin' roun'
When I rise for to try for to dhress,
An' I'm forced to sit by the side of the bed
An' wait for the house to take ress! ”

“ Hommy: Aw scandalous. English wouldn’ do reachin’ for them, but heavin’ the Gaelic at us as hard as they could.
Mrs. Gale: Wheer’s the chile, Hommy?
Hommy: The chile you’re callin’ him. He’s a thousan’ years is that falla is he’s a day. Wasn’t he leadin’ the whole gang ridin’ his besom as if it was a pony, an’ the whole of them banging poor Hommy most unmarciful. You’ll do all right, but it’s me they’ll be after! ’Deed I’m not feelin’ so well this minute.
Sits down holding his head.
Mrs. Gale: Wheer’s the chile, Hommy Beg. Come urrow that an’ tell me wheer’s the chile! ”

“ Kirry: Well, you see the soddag valloo is a surt of a bonag they’re makin’ at Hollantide of flour an’ wather, an’ it’s goin’ a bakin’ on the hearth. Then each of the girls must take a piece an’ eat it walkin’ backwards to her bed, navver sayin’ wan word.
Watterson: What then, Kirry?
Kirry: Kirry sounds pretty, the saf’ way you say it; but still an’ for all I don’t know that you have any right to be callin’ it to me.
Watterson: Right enough, Kirry; an’ us such near neighbours. Dear me the time we have together is far too short to be going all the length of “Miss Cregeen” all the time. ”

“ An' the thought of the craythurs wantin' their mate,
An' it spilt at me all in the snow!
But Crowe came by at las',
Goin' home from the Ramsey mart,
"Them pigs will be wantin' their mate," I said,
When they got me home on the cart.
So that's the way it iss,
An' I'll never be sthrayin' far;
But we mus' have somethin' to keep us down,
The stubborn an' proud we are.
This wumman is good to me, too,
An' I'm gettin' the bes' thass in,
She was rared at me, an' me darter's chile,
An' married on Dicky-the-Win'.
I'm tired an' oul' an' done! ”

“ Go on now an’ toll him quickly for [to Lizzie] there’ll be a power of people on the road to-night, an’ some of these wans is so boul they would be askin’ him to give them a lif’ whether he would or no.
Lizzie: Go on now, Bobby, an’ here’s a penny for you.
Bobby: Thank you, Lizzie; you’ve always got a kind word for a poor man–
Kirry: Man!
Bobby: Or a pussy cat [going as Kirry pretends to chase him.] Poor pussy-bogh! Miaow! [Exit.]
Kirry: Now, Lizzie, what was I tell in’ you? M. indeed! No indeed. W. is a far more stylisher latther. Is my skirt right, Lizzie? ”

“ The cows is shoutin' shockin', an' puzzlin' them for sure,
Is the waitin' doin' on them at that tejus Traa-dy-Liooar.
There's a power of foes within us, and enemies without,
But the wan that houls the candle is that little lazy lout;
So just you take an' scutch him, an' put him to the dhure,
An' navar let him in again, that tejus Traa-dy-Liooar. ”

“ The chile an’ his hatchet! Well there’s them over beyond that’s worse off nor us. We’ve got a roof over our heads an’ plenty bons in. Think of them wans thramp, thrampin’ through the mud an’ dark from their burning houses, an’ the childher cryin’, it’s like–why ain’t we goin’ home, Mammie?–an’–We want to go to bed now, Mammie–an’ never a home or a bed lef’ them.
[Children return clean and shiny] : What will the pudding be like, Mammie? ”

“ But there's wan lyin' out in the storm, my son,
That I think on more an' more."
"Will I take you home to the hill, to-night?
Or will you stop till morn?
You shall sleep in the children's bed to-night,
And take the road at dawn."
"I would gladly stop down here, my son,
An' with the childher bide;
But there's wan lyin' out on the hill, my son.
Is callin' me to his side."
"As I came over the hill to-night
His voice spoke in mine ear—
'Are thou coming soon, my widowed wife,
We are snugly housed up here.'"
"'The turf grows over our heads, my wife,
The gorse is black and charred ”

“ I’ll tell your Daa as sure’s you’re livin’. What do you want comin’ in other people’s houses when they're out and terrifying the people!
Bobby: What do you want, Kirry Cregeen–oomin’ in other people’s houses when they’re out,–an’ eatin’ other people’s cakes? ”

“ Let’s have a look. [Bends over cradle. Child turns over and flings his fist in Hommy’s face.] Ogh, murther! Is that the way he’s sleepin’. I’ll have to put a rale charm on him for all.
Mrs. Gale returns with turves in her apron. Hommy takes them from her and packs them on fire. Mrs. Gale watches uneasily. Hommy takes the bellows.
Hommy: Now sit you down there with your back to him, an’ take you that waistcut an’ stitch for your life. An’ whatever you do don’t look round or you’ll be murthered with fright.
Hommy blows turves. Child rises up, wringing his hands and begins to wail and roar ”

“ An' the carvels goin' a singin' on the night?
An' Tommy Danny Quilliam an' quare oul' Juan Illiam
With cannles in their fisses for the light?
An' marchin' up the aisle, singin' sollum all the while
With all the parish listenin' to them there?
An' Pazon smilin' cheerful, but watchin' very keerful,
To keep the wans reminded where they were?
There was teens of cannles blazin', an' all the people gazin',
With Pazon's wans so studdy in the pew.
An' Church all titivated an' tasty decorated,
An' tossed up middlin' stylish at them too. ”

“ But th' oul' Queen nussed him clavver, and give
him scope for to run,
The knowing that he'd come to when he would
have had his fun.
Aw the Lady she was! Ma word! Th' oul' Queedn
that is gone,
That was sittin' quite's an earwig, doin' judgment
from her throne,
An' the high wans goin' a ecutchin' if they didn'
be mindin' themselves,
And an eye for the sarvents as well, that there
wasn' no duss on the shelves.
An' rowlin' her bonnad ribbons to be all so nate's
a pin,
An' larnin' the childher their duty, but spashul this
wan that's in. ”

“ They’re like moths fir their clothes. But these wans is well off an’ no need to be wearin’ such oul duds.
Slowly begins to sew, humming a tune.
Child [sitting up suddenly] : Drop that, Hommy Beg!
Hommy [starts with surprise and then looks over spectacles quite scandalized] : Well, if ever–
Child: Drop it now. [Jumps out of cradle scattering shawls and wraps, Hommy gazing open-mouthed.] Smart now, Hommy–clear this place quick. [Picks up besom and pokes Hommy, finally chasing him into corner, and picking up fiddle in its green bag thrusts it at him.] ”

“ There's a wickad little falla that goes among us here,
An' the wickadness thass at him is tellin' far an' near;
He's prowlin' in the haggart an' in at every dhure,
An' coaxin' an' persuadin',—an' his name is Traa-dy-Liooar.
The house is all through others, the childher's late for school,
The man is spendin' all his time in lookin' for a tool,
The wumman's tired thremendjus with clearin' up the flure,
An' the wan that's doin' all the jeel is wickad Traa-dy-Liooar.
The fields is full of cushag, the gates is patched with gorse,
You'll hardly see the harness for the mire upon the horse ”

“ The chile mus’ have strayed down here and lost herself. She was lyin’ by the big fir logs out theer sobbin’ mos’ pirriful, an’ the snow fallin’ on her too. It’s snowin’ bad now.
Gr.: An’ they’ll be in a worl’ of throuble up theer when they miss her. How can we let them know at all?
M.: They’ll surely be searching everywhere, but with the snow they’ll be hindered shocking. We mus’ keep her to-night anyway, an’ we’ll have the pudding for her supper that she’ll get warmth in her–
Maggie: Oh, Mammie, that’s the for the five raisins was in. ”

“ An' sthrivin' up the hill.
The dawn was barely sthreakin'
An' a sup o' rain doin' in;
But liftin' as the day grew on,
Like dhryin' up when the night was gone,
With a scutch o' risin' win'.
An' here was these wans comin',
An' creepenin' up the side,
With a surt of murmerin', wailin' soun'
That seemed to be risin' all aroun',
Like the soun' of the weary tide.
There was oul', an' young, an' childher,
All bended under loads;
With beds an' crocks, an' spuds, an' grips,
An' spinnin' wheels, an' taller dips,
All filin' up the roads. ”

“ M.: What quare thing is there on you? It’s jus’ the snow an’ the light of the stars is makin’ things through others.
Jim: It’s makin’ a quare surt of noise, too.
M.: What like is the noise?
Jim: I don’t know is it cryin’ or sobbin’ or weenin’ some way it is.
Gr.: Praps some wan’s dog has got hurted.
M.: I’d bes’ go an’ see anyway. Here, Maggie, you come with me and houl the lanthern–you’re not afeard like Jim.
Jim [angrily] : I’m not feared, an’ I’m th’oul’es’. Maggie can mind the pudding. ”

“ Aw, a rale grammatical falla—Prince of Wales
they were callin' him to,
An' was'n it our "Cap'n" Hunter that was with
him aboord the ship,
To see that them ignorant haythens was not
givin' none of their lip.
There's them comin' though—there—roun' by
Cronk Urleigh, see—
Gerrourra th' road, Lizzie veen! Is it devoured
you're wantin' to be
Under the feet of the horses? Stan' quite, now,
for these wans to tell
The pretty the Manx gels is— (The King passes) —
Aw! Well! ”

“ Not much fear–for what with the cows an’ the children, and the goats and the hens and the meg-lambs, I never get the chance for a word. Well, now, that I came to ask was, would you drive home with me this evening? ”