Cuddy

“ Hoick!” immediately cheered Cuddy—as if capping the pack to a find.
“Oh, why, let me see,” replied Sir Moses, filliping the ashes off the end of his cigar—“Let me see,” repeated he—“Oh—ah—tomorrow’s Monday; Monday, the Crooked Billet—Crooked Billet—nine miles—eight through Applecross Park; leave here at nine—ten to nine, say—nothing like giving them plenty of time on the road.”
“Nothing,” assented Cuddy Flintoff, taking a deep drain at his glass, adding, as soon as he could get his nose persuaded to come out of it again, “I do hate to see men hurrying hounds to cover in a morning.” ”

“ Cuddy was now wide awake, and felt, when he got up, his joints sadly cramped, which it was only natural they should be, considering the hard texture of the stone, and the depth his knees had sunk into it. The great difficulty was, to explain how, in one night, summer had become winter— whole woods had been cut down, and well-grown trees had sprouted up. The miracle, nothing else could he conclude it to be, urged him to hasten his return to Innisfallen, where he might learn some explanation of these marvellous events. ”

“ Cuddy’s sporting was in the past tense, indeed he seemed to exist altogether upon the recollections of the chace, which must have made a lively impression upon him, for he was continually interlarding his conversation with view holloas, yoicks wind ‘ims! yoick’s push ‘im ups! Indeed, in walking about he seemed to help himself along with the aid of for-rardson! for-rards on! so that a person out of sight, but within hearing, would think he was hunting a pack of hounds. ”

“ Cuddy usually kicked during grooming, but his present indifference was more insulting.
"Huh!" said Willet. "he knows them sextons went to Break-Neck to dig the grave for him. Don't yer, Devil? Say, Joey, look at him listening like he was counting the number of spadefuls it takes to make a horse's grave. He's thinking, old Cuddy is, and scheming what he'd like to do. I wouldn't ride him from here to Break-Neck, not for a thousand dollars." ”

“ Beautifully ideal is the thought and reality of these old Narragansett planters and their wives and children resting in the ground they loved so dearly, and so faithfully worked for. But there was nothing beautiful in the thought to Cuddy; he groaned as he passed them, and thought of his midnight return; and he tried to learn from the Doctor how long he would probably be detained at the Champlin farm. But Dr. Greene, accustomed to ride alone for hours through the country, was taciturn and gruff, and kept Cuddy in ignorance of both the name and ailment of the patient. ”

“ He was distinguished above all the rest by the name of "the fat father." Now there are many that will take huff at a name; but Father Cuddy had no nonsense of that kind about him; he laughed at it, and well able he was to laugh, for his mouth nearly reached from one ear to the other—his might, in truth, be called an open countenance. As his paunch was no disgrace to his food, neither was his nose to his drink. 'Tis a question to me if there were not more carbuncles upon it than ever were seen at the bottom of the lake, which is said to be full of them. ”

“ Cuddy lived in a wretched shanty near the Don, north of Toronto. His was what Greek philosophy would have demonstrated to be an ideal existence. He had no wealth, no taxes, no social pretensions, and no property to speak of. His life was made up of a very little work and a great deal of play, with as much outdoor life as he chose. He considered himself a true sportsman because he was 'fond o' huntin',' and 'took a sight o' comfort out of seein' the critters hit the mud, when his gun was fired. The neighbors called him a squatter, and looked on him merely as an anchored tramp. ”

“ Willet blushed purple.
"I think Cuddy's got something in his head, some plan if he gets out. I think he wants to kill some one before he dies. Yes, sir, kill him. And you know if he gets the start of you there is no stopping the dirty devil."
"Yes, he does tear a bit," Geth admitted. "But I never was on a surer jumper. Lord! How the old horse can lift you!" Gething dropped into a disconsolate silence, interrupted before long by Willet.
"Happiness will get Cuddy's box—she's in a stall. Cuddy was always mean to her—used to go out of his way to kick her—and she, sweet as a kitten." ”

“ Cuddy, indeed, was good enough to say he had been sick himself, and of course Billy had a right to be so, too. “Shouldn’t have been so,” said Cuddy, “if that beggar Bankhead had brought the brandy; but there’s no getting anything out of that fellow.” And Caddy and Billy being then placed upon terms of equality, the interesting invalids agreed to have a walk together. To this end Billy turned out of bed and re-established himself in his recently-discarded coat and vest; feeling much like a man after a bad passage from Dover to Calais. ”

“ Gething let himself be jerked forward until his face almost rested on the veiny neck.
"Old tricks, Cuddy. I knew that one before you wore your first shoes." He still had easy control and began to really let him out. There was a succession of walls and fences and mad racing through fields when the horse plunged in his gait and frightened birds fluttered from the thicket and Gething hissed between his teeth as he always did when he felt a horse going strong beneath him. ”

“ Was it the drumming, or the tell-tale tracks of their snow-shoes on the omnipresent snow, that betrayed them to Cuddy? He came prowling again and again up the ravine, with dog and gun, intent to hunt the partridges down. They knew him of old, and he was coming now to know them well. That great copperruffed cock was becoming famous up and down the valley. During the Gunner Moon many a one had tried to end his splendid life, just as a worthless wretch of old sought fame by burning the Ephesian wonder of the world. But Redruff was deep in woodcraft. ”

“ Cuddy, however, wasn’t to be stopped. He was sure Jack had tumbled off, and was bent upon working him in return for his Bareacres compliment.
“Well, but tell us,” said he, addressing Jack again, “did you come over his head or his tail, when you jomp off?”
“Don’t, Cuddy! don’t!” now muttered Sir Moses, taking the entire top tier off a pile of muffins, and filling his mouth as full as it would hold; “don’t,” repeated he, adding, “it’s no use (munch) bullying a poor (crunch) beggar because he’s a (munch) Frenchman” (crunch) . Sir Moses then took a great draught of tea. ”

“ But surely this is Innisfallen island, and I am the Father Cuddy who yesterday morning went over to the abbey of Irelagh respecting the tun of wine. Do you know me now?"
"Know you! how should I know you?" said the keeper of the abbey; "yet true it is, that I have heard my grandmother, whose mother remembered the man, often speak of the fat Father Cuddy of Innisfallen, who made a profane and godless ballad in praise of fried eggs, of which he and his vile crew knew more than they did of the word of God, and who, being drunk, it was said, tumbled into the lake one night and was drowned ”

“ So he went from stable to stable, just as he does at Tattersall’s on a Sunday, Cuddy being as true to the “corner” as the needle to the pole, though, like the children, he looks, but never touches, that is to say, “bids,” at least not for himself. Our Billy, soon tiring of this amusement—if, indeed, amusement it can be called—availed himself of the interregnum caused by the outside passage from one set of stables to another, to slip away to look after his own horse, of whose health he suddenly remembered Rougier had spoken disparagingly in the morning. ”

“ Stop her, Cuddy!” roared Mr. Cranston, as he suddenly ceased his forced dance and began to run.
“I ain’t agoin’ ter run none after dat ole hoss,” said Cuddy; “I’se got de rheumatiz’ too bad. You jess see ef you can’t run faster as you can dance. You can’t catch her, dough,” he called after the retreating sheriff. “I know she’s conjured by de way she run. It always do conjure a hoss to see a constable a-dancin’ ober runnin’ water.” ”

“ It seemed, at length, a waste of time to follow him with a gun, so when the snow was deepest, and food scarcest, Cuddy hatched a new plot. Right across the feeding-ground, almost the only good one now in the Stormy Moon, he set a row of snares. A cottontail rabbit, an old friend, cut several of these with his sharp teeth, but some remained, and Redruff, watching a far-off speck that might turn out a hawk, trod right in one of them, and in an instant was jerked into the air to dangle by one foot.
Have the wild things no moral or legal rights? ”

“ I strive to die, and thou to live full fain.
The first of these poems is a monologue 'entitled Cuddy,' modelled on the January eclogue. The second is a lament 'made long since upon the death of Sir Philip Sidney,' in which the writer wonders at Colin's silence, and which consequently must, at least, date from before the appearance of Astrophel in 1595, and is probably some years earlier. It is in the form of a dialogue between two shepherds, one of whom sings Cuddy's lament in lyrical stanzas, thus recalling Spenser's 'November.' These stanzas do not reveal any great metrical gift. ”

“ But I suggest that we nose around here for a bit longer. Something else may turn up.”
146
“My idea, too,” Landis agreed. “We’ll hang around here tomorrow, see if we can trace Cuddy and get a description of him. Monday morning we’ll attend the inquest together, if you like. Monday afternoon I’m going to look up Cuddy on Long Island and see where he fits in. He’ll need an alibi for seven-thirty this evening or he’s suspect!” ”

“ On Monday he stayed here in town, took two hours for lunch, went back to the office and home at the usual time. Nobody here saw him on Saturday at all.”
“My yarn is longer and more interesting,” said Landis.
“Spin it, then. Every dog barks in his own yard!”
With a laugh, Landis plunged into his story. He had obtained Cuddy’s address and a brief description of him from the post office where he sometimes called for his mail. The station master at Great Neck had sold Cuddy a return trip to New York on Friday morning and seen him depart at once. ”

“ Cuddy clambered in and out of the chaise, and opened and closed the gates with an agility that amazed the Doctor, who had previously had frequent occasions in the daytime to revile him for his laziness in like duties. He also glanced with apprehension and dread at the family burying-grounds they passed, counting to himself the whole dreary number that would have to be repassed on the way home.
These sad little resting-places are dotted all over Narragansett. In olden times each family was buried in some corner on the family-farm. Sometimes the burying-place was enclosed in a high stone wall ”

“ This is, and ever was, a censorious world, often construing what is only a fair allowance into excess; but I scorn to reckon up any man's drink like an unrelenting host; therefore, I cannot tell how many brimming draughts of wine, bedecked with the venerable Bead, Father Cuddy emptied into his "soul-case," so he figuratively termed the body.
His respect for the goodly company of the monks of Irelagh detained him until adjournment to vespers, when he set forward on his return to Innisfallen. ”

“ When they reached the Champlin farm Cuddy ventured to say, with a cheerful assumption of interest: “’S’pose you’ll stay here all night, Doctor, it’s so cole an’ damp an’ so bad fer yer rheumatiz. I’ll sleep in de hay in de barn an’ won’t bodder nobody.”
“No, indeed,” answered the Doctor, [Pg 189] sharply, “we’ll start back in half an hour.” Cuddymonk gloomily hitched and blanketed the horse, and walked into the great kitchen, where, nodding and dozing, sat old Ruth Champlin, the negro cook. ”

“ Spiritual affairs—for it was respecting the importation of a tun of wine into the island monastery—demanded the presence of one of the brotherhood of Innisfallen at the abbey of Trelagh, now called Muckruss. The superintendence of this important matter was committed to Father Cuddy, who felt too deeply interested in the future welfare of any community of which he was a member to neglect or delay such mission. ”

“ Piers or Percy again appears in ecl. x. with Cuddy, a poetic shepherd. This noble eclogue has for its subject “poetry.” Cuddy complains that poetry has no patronage or encouragement, although it comes by inspiration. He says no one would be so qualified as Colin to sing divine poetry, if his mind were not so depressed by disappointed love.—Spenser, The Shepheardes Calendar (1579) .
Pie ́tro (2 syl.) , the putative father of Pompilia. This paternity was a fraud to oust the heirs of certain property which would otherwise fall to them.—R. Browning, The Ring and the Book, ii. ”

“ Dey jess grows an’ grows for nothin’. Ef more folks growed ’tatoes an’ okra in dis country, times’d be better’n dey is.”
[Pg 87]
Rosann did not answer him, she seldom did; and now her attention was called to a horse and rider that had turned from the main road and were advancing up the narrow lane that led to Cuddy’s house. Mounted visitors were not frequent at Cuddy’s humble home, even on gubernatorial business; and when he and Rosann saw that the horseman was no less a person than Constable Cranston, of North Kingston, they stared in open-mouthed amazement. ”

“ Cuddle was desperate: he suddenly determined on attempting to evade his enemy by a bold and dangerous manouvre. He leaped upon the banisters, which were massive and broad enough for a man to stand upon with ease; caught hold of the rope, by which the dinner bell, above the cupola, was rung by the porter, in the hall below; and threw himself upon it,—in a style which would have done honour to a thorough-bred seaman,—at the moment the tops of Caddy's fingers touched his heels. ”