Hudy XIVa

Chapter XIVa - The Colonel's Glorious Gift

So far as the practical wisdom of a nation is concerned, its old adages are its brightest gems. Is an elucidation required? Well then: "a rolling stone gathers no moss". How could it? No, no; it is your fixed and staid rocks that receive and retain the dust and the moisture which give existence to moss and other such worthless vegetable productions. Hudy McGuigan was composed of no such sluggish material; far from it. He was quite mercurial in his nature - a perfect rolling stone - always to be found. Poh! a bull, by Jupiter! But as we are in for it we will complete it. Well then, he was always to be found "here, and there, and everywhere". And perfectly true it is that he gathered no moss; but it is equally true that he never desired the thing. He never dreamed of acquiring filthy lucre. Despising the gross views of the worldling, his mind was ever bent on nobler objects. But why waste time in description when we can present the reader with the workings of his own fancy on the subject, accurately portrayed by a couple of stanzas from his favorite song:

I
I care not for riches or treasure,
I care not for wine and its joys;
A light heart and a thin pair of breeches
Goes clane through the world, brave boys!

II
I care not for station or grandeur,
Crowns, sceptres, or any such toys;
A light heart and a thin pair of breeches
Goes dash through the world, brave boys!

But if he despised the low, sordid, grovelling scrapings of the miser, there was no human being more covetous of glory. He must be distinguished; or "he must not be!" And so morbidly sensitive was he on this point that he could not bear the idea of an equal "at what he prowhessed". This feeling was the mainspring of all his greatness, and urged him to the accomplishment of deeds no other man would dare. A French author, in a fit of enthusiasm, said of Napoleon Buonaparte that "he was a man without a shadow": apply the compliment to Hudy McGuigan and it becomes a truism, for certainly this world contains no facsimile of him.

But we left him at Glenadry, in the keen pursuit of his mountain sports, which, like everything sublunary, had their termination. Lord Caledon had become quite reconciled to him; he had continued to rise in Lord O'Neill's estimation; and the rest of the gentlemen parted from him with regret; but when he prepared to take leave of his patron, it was quite a scene of feeling.

"Well, Hudy my boy, how am I to reward you for the important services so kindly rendered during our exciting sports?"

"Reward me! Faix Colonel, I think I had my full share of the fun; an' bad luck to all else I wud ax, do ye mind."

"I know your generous disposition, Hudy, as well as the little value you place on money; but it becomes not me to allow any man to part without fitting recompense for his time and labour, much less you, who have served me with such power and alacrity as no other ever did and, I do believe, as no other could: you will therefore oblige me by accepting this small sum as an earnest of my best wishes, and an instalment of the deep debt I owe you," at the same time presenting the Clift with five guineas.

But our hero shrank from the Colonel's outstretched hand. He had listened with apparent surprise to his patron's grave tone, and observed with regret his (to him) unusual dignity. He was pained; and with his accustomed independence of manner he replied -

"By my sowl, I'll have nothing to say to it! divil have all, indeed! and for two raisons: the wan is that I don't like yer long English, becase I don't understhand it, an' it always makes me jubous [suspicious] when I hear it; the other is that nayther yer voice nor countenance wuz like yerself. By my sowl, they smacked too much of Lord Caledon; and I nivir could bear the cut of his jib, do ye mind."

The Colonel perceived that he had deeply though unwittingly wounded the sensitive feelings of our hero; and sufficiently acquainted with his nature to enable him to remove the false impression, he resumed his careless good-natured manner, and proceeded to make the amende honorable.

"Well Hudy I should be sorry to insist; you shall have your own way. However before we part, as I know your admirable skill in horses, I wish to take your opinion; but by-the-by are not you in possession of a little farm at home?"

"Well in thrath we have a little wan indeed - the divil a more nor five or six acres; though my father says the time was - but naboclish! that's nayther here nor there: there's no cure for spilt milk, do ye mind!"

The Colonel perceived that the Clift's mind had been thrown back upon better days; and admiring the power he exhibited of repressing vain regrets, gaily replied -

"Right! Hudy, right! I like your philosophy; but are you a good labourer?"

"Whew! divil a betther in Ireland! Bad luck to the man ivir stood beside me I couldn't do double work wid, and that the whole county would tell ye."

"Is your land productive?"

"By my sowl, it's only middlin'. It doesn't do well widout coaxing - and we want the manes; and the ould man's not so able now; and - to tell God's thruth, myself's not aften in the humour!"

"Is it all arable?"

"In thrath is it; but some how or other, except a wee patch, it's all run out to grazin'"

"Well I think you should change your hand. But I had almost forgotten - what do you think of that nice little mare with the foal at her foot, which caught your attention this morning?"

"A beauty, by the powers! - Divil a nater! - Full blood! What a pity she was so ould!"

"And how do you like the foal?"

"Augh blood-an-oundhers, a parfect picthur! - seven counties couldn't fellow it! What did they call its sire?"

"Well upon my honor I forget both his name and pedigree; but of one thing I am certain - he was full blood, and of high character."

"Divil a doubt of that! the foal spakes for itself."

"I am glad you are pleased with them Hudy: and feel further pleasure in stating they are both yours."

The Colonel had touched the right spring. The Clift's surprise was equalled only by his delight. A bound and a scream -

"Whew! bad luck to me but that's glorious. Augh Colonel acushla, give us yer wing! Well bad scran to my stupid skull! but by the powers I was always like the Munterloney beggars, aisily huffed, do ye mind; but ye'll forgive me, for upon my sowl, an' that's an oath, I would rayther have that gift from you nor if Lord Caledon would lay me down his estate. Bad luck to Tam Gabha, the idiot, that didn't wait to go home with me! but may be I won't open his eyes for him."

The Colonel with much pleasure put our hero in possession of his prize, and they parted as much pleased with each other as any two friends could possibly be; the Clift exulting more in his patron's munificence and generosity than in the unexpected good fortune attending himself.

But the fame of his Glenadry exploits had spread "like moor-burning", and given additional éclat to a name already highly estimated. His journey homeward was quite a triumphal march; and as he approached his father's domicile, the crowds that flocked around him with their hearty congratulations fairly impeded his progress. He was delighted with the kindly salutations of his friends, and he thanked them as best he could.

"Bad luck to it, boys darlin's, are yez not going to let me home to the ould couple at all?"

"Augh there's time galore and to spare, Hudy. Let us look at the darlin' wee mare and foal. Tell us about the laping, and the gentlemen, and the ould boccagh. Well by the powers, Tam Gabha says that was better nor a show!"

"Well let me get an now, and I'll thry to accommodate yez all. I'll set a day for it, do ye mind."

"Aye, but what day, Hudy?"

"Some Sunday in the middle of nixt week!"

"The divil go wid ye! at yer ould tricks again."

But at length he arrived at his destination, and was received with open arms by his affectionate mother; in whose anxious breast years had not yet quenched that ardent love of honorable distinction which her early dreamings had shadowed forth as the certain reward of her son's brilliant talents. With equal affection, but with the reserved dignity of a patriarch, Jack Roe welcomed his return; and happiness as perfect as mortal may hope for was the inmate of the humble cottage which sheltered the time-honored head of the Last of the McGuigans.

This page was last updated 7 Nov 2018