Herminie Templeton Kavahagh - Darby OGill and the Good People

Darby O'Gill

and the Good People

By

Herminie Templeton Kavanagh

Frontispiece by

John R. Neill

Chicago

The Reilly & Lee Co.

Copyright, 1903

By

McClure, Phillips & Co.

T HIS history sets forth the only true account of the adventures of a daring Tipperary man named Darby O'Gill among the Fairies of Sleive-na-mon.

These adventures were first related to me by Mr. Jerry Murtaugh, a reliable car-driver, who goes between Kilcuny and Ballinderg. He is a first cousin of Darby O'Gill's own mother.

CONTENTS

D ARBY O'G ILL AND THE G OOD P EOPLE

Up the airy mountain,

Down the rushy glen,

We daren't go a-hunting

For fear of little men.

Wee folk, good folk,

Trooping altogether;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather.

They stole little Bridget

For seven years long;

When she came down again

Her friends were all gone.

They took her lightly back

Between the day and morrow;

They thought that she was fast asleep,

But she was dead with sorrow."

William Allingham.

A LTHOUGH only one living man of his own free will ever went among them there, still, any well-learned person in Ireland can tell you that the abode of the Good People is in the hollow heart of the great mountain, Sleive-na-mon. That same one man was Darby O'Gill, a cousin of my own mother.

Right and left, generation after generation, the fairies had stolen pigs, young childher, old women, young men, cows, churnings of butter from other people, but had never bothered any of our kith or kin until, for some mysterious rayson, they soured on Darby, and took the eldest of his three foine pigs.

The next week a second pig went the same way. The third week not a thing had Darby left for the Balinrobe fair. You may aisly think how sore and sorry the poor man was, an' how Bridget, his wife, an' the childher carried on. The rent was due, and all left was to sell his cow Rosie to pay it. Rosie was the apple of his eye; he admired and rayspected the pigs, but he loved Rosie.

Worst luck of all was yet to come. On the morning when Darby went for the cow to bring her into, market, bad scrans to the hoof was there; but in her; place only a wisp of dirty straw to mock him. Millia murther! What a howlin' and screechin' and cursin' did Darby bring back to the house!

Now Darby was a bould man, and a desperate man in his anger as you soon will see. He shoved his feet into a pair of brogues, clapped his hat on his head, and gripped his stick in his hand.

"Fairy or no fairy, ghost or goblin, livin' or dead, who took Rosie'll rue the day," he says.

With those wild words he boulted in the direction of Sleive-na-mon.

All day long he climbed like an ant over the hill, looking for hole or cave through which he could get at the prison of Rosie. At times he struck the rocks with his blackthorn, cryin' out challenge.

"Come out, you that took her," he called. "If ye have, the courage of a mouse, ye murtherin' thieves, come out!"

No one made answerat laste, not just then. But at night, as he turned, hungry and footsore, toward home, who should he meet up with on the cross-roads but the ould fairy doctor, Sheelah Maguire; well known was she as a spy for the Good People. She spoke up:

"Oh, then, you're the foolish, blundherin'-headed man to be saying what you've said, and doing what you've done this day, Darby O'Gill," says she.

"What do I care!" says he, fiercely. "I'd fight the divil for my beautiful cow."

"Then go into Mrs. Hagan's meadow beyant," says Sheelah, "and wait till the moon is up. By an' by ye'll see a herd of cows come down from the mountain, and yer own'll be among them."

"What I'll I do then?" asked Darby, his voice thrembling with excitement.

"Sorra a hair I care what ye do! But there'll be lads there, and hundreds you won't see, that'll stand no ill words, Darby O'Gill."

"One question more, ma'am," says Darby, as Sheelah was moving away. "How late in the night will they stay without?"

Sheelah caught him by the collar and, pulling his head close, whuspered:

"When the cock crows the Good People must be safe at home. After cock-crow they have no power to help or to hurt, and every mortal eye can see them plain."

"I thank you kindly," says Darby, "and I bid you good evening, ma'am." He turned away, leaving her standing there alone looking after him; but he was sure he heard voices talkin' to her and laughin' and tittherin' behind him.

It was dark night when Darby stretched himself on the ground in Hagan's meadow; the yellow rim of the moon just tipped the edge of the hills.

As he lay there in the long grass amidst the silence there came a cowld shudder in the air, an' afther it had passed the deep cracked voice of a near-by bullfrog called loudly an' ballyraggin':

"The Omadhaun! Omadhaun! Omadhaun!" it said.

From a sloe three over near the hedge an owl cried, surprised and thrembling:

"Who-o-o? who-o-o?" it axed.

At that every frog in the meadowan' there must have been tin thousand of themtook up the answer, an' shrieked shrill an' high together. "Darby O'Gill! Darby O'Gill! Darby O'Gill!" sang they.

"The Omadhaun! The Omadhaun!" cried the wheezy masther frog again. "Who-o? Who-o?" axed the owl. "Darby O'Gill! Darby O'Gill!" screamed the rollicking chorus; an' that way they were goin' over an' over agin until the bould man was just about to creep off to another spot whin, sudden, a hundred slow shadows, stirring up the mists, crept from the mountain way toward him. First he must find was Rosie among the herd. To creep quiet as a cat through the hedge and raich the first cow was only a minute's work. Then his plan, to wait till cockcrow, with all other sober, sensible thoughts, went clane out of the lad's head before his rage; for cropping eagerly the long, sweet grass, the first baste he met, was Rosie.

With a leap Darby was behind her, his stick falling sharply on her flanks. The ingratichude of that cow almost broke Darby's heart. Rosie turned fiercely on him with a vicious lunge, her two horns aimed at his breast. There was no suppler boy in the parish than Darby, and well for him it was so, for the mad rush the cow gave would have caught any man the laste trifle heavy on his legs and ended his days right there.

As it was, our hayro sprang to one side. As Rosie passed his left hand gripped her tail. When one of the O'Gills takes hould of a thing he hangs on like a bull-terrier. Away he went, rushing with her.

Now began a race the like of which was never heard of before or since. Ten jumps to the second and a hundred feet to the jump. Rosie's tail standing straight up in the air, firm as an iron bar, and Darby floating straight out behind; a thousand furious fairies flying a short distance after, filling the air with wild commands and threatenings.

Suddenly the sky opened for a crash of lightning that shivered the hills, and a roar of thunder that turned out of their beds every man, woman, and child in four counties. Flash after flash came the lightning, hitting on every side of our hayro. If it wasn't for fear of hurting Rosie the fairies would certainly have killed Darby. As it was, he was stiff with fear, afraid to hould on and afraid to lave go, but flew, waving in the air at Rosie's tail like a flag.