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Hyacinth

Chapter 9 No.9

Word Count: 3584    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

n atmosphere of day-dreams and delightful anticipations. He had no knowledge whatever of the actual conditions of modern warfare. He understood vaguely that h

terviews with commanding officers in which he with some chosen comrade volunteered for incredibly dangerous enterprises. He conceived of himself as wounded, though not fatally, and carri

not buy Durkan's boat. He laughed to himself at the thought of doing such a thing. Was he to spend his life fishing mackerel round the rocky islands of Connema

ong the rocks by yourself? The people were beginning to say that you were getting to be like your poor father, and that nobody'd ev

with the marks burnt into it where hot dishes were set down, the shabby arm-chair, the worn cocoanut-matting on the floor, the dozen or so b

own,' said the priest.

kful to you for suggesting it as if I did buy her. I ho

to speak of his new

ry for it. And why wouldn't you bu

th hes

or you, but I never heard for certain, and maybe you haven't got the money for the

ather M

gtime; and if it isn't that, it'll be something else. And who would the creatures go to in their trouble but the old priest that christened and married the most of them? But, indeed, thanks be to God, things is improving. The fishing brings in a lot of money to the men, and there's a better breed of cattle in the country now, an

er Moran,

o when the Cassidys' house and three more beside it got blown away in the big wind. Father Joyce put his name on the back of the bill along with my own, and trouble enough I had to get him to do it, for he said I ought to put an appeal in the newspapers, and I'd get the money given to me. But I never was one to go beg

together. What did ever I do to deserve such kindness f

nding here twisting my brains into hard knots with thinking out ways of getting what you d

t to live here always. I'm going away out into

there's enough gone out and left us lonely here. Isn't the best of all the boys and girls

h Africa. I'm going to join some young Irish

he Boers! What is it that's in your head

ffort to express himself would have acted as some corrosive acid, and stained with patches of absurdity the whole fabric of his dreams. He looked at Father Moran, and saw the priest's eyes lit with sympathy. He knew that he had a listener who would not scoff, who might, perhaps, even understand. He began to speak, slowly and haltingly at first, then more rapidly. At last he poured out with breathless, incoherent speed the strange story of

visibly round the priest's mouth. His eyes had a shrewd, searching expression, difficult to interpret. Still, he listened to the rhapsody without interrupt

nneally, but there might be the

was a fool to tell you at all. But I'm in earnest about what I'm going t

hen I said that there was the makings of a fine man in you. Laugh at you! It's little you know me. Listen now, till I tell you something;

for the school-children and a quaint jest on his lips for their mothers; of Father Moran in his ruffled silk hat and shabby black coat and

laugh-and she's the solemnest mortal I know-at the notion of me charging along with maybe a pike in my hand, and the few gray hairs that's left on the sides of my head blowing about in the breeze

began to wonder what he meant, and whether the promised con

s for the sake of Ireland. They would, sure, for they loved Ireland well. But I had my own share in the doings. Of course, it was before ever there was a word of my being a priest. That came after. Thanks be to God for His mercies'-the old man crossed himself reverently-'He kept me from harm and the sin that might have been laid on me. But in those days there were great thoughts in me, just as there are in you to-day. Faith! I'm of opinion that my thoughts were greater than yours, for I was all for fighting here in

t,' said Hyacinth; 'I'd like to think

ng away out of the country, just when there's need of every man in it. I tell you this-and you'll remember that

What work is there for a ma

ying Thady Durkan's boat? Isn't the

hat good would it be to anyone but myself? What good wo

lump of butter in the pan. There's worse fish than the mackerel, as you'll discover if you go to South Africa, and find yo

mackerel and the laughter in the priest's eyes when he suggest

that's in them? What sort will the next generation of our people be, with their own language gone from them, and their Irish ways forgotten, and all the old tales and songs and tunes perished away like the froth of the waves that the storm blew up across the fields the night your father died? I'll tell you what they'll be-just sham Englishmen. And the Lord knows the real thing is

o, as a symbol, and something more, perhaps-as an expression of the nationality of Ireland. But it did not seem to him to be a very essential thing, and to spend his life talking it

ld be satisfied to stay here. What is it you ask of me? To spend my time fishing and talking Irish and dancing jigs. Ah! it's well enough I'd like to do it. Don't think

ing and destroying it? First it's you, Hyacinth Conneally-not that I grudge the time to you when you're going off so soon-and now it's Michael Kavanagh. Indeed, he's a decent man too, like yourself. Come in, Michael-come in. Don't be standing there pulling at the old door-bell. You know as well as myself it's broken these two years. It's heartbroken the thing is ever since that congested engineer

was likely to turn out to be, and the suitability of particular breeds of cattle to the coarse, brine-soaked land of Carrowkeel. Kavanagh related a fearful tale of a lot of 'foreign 'fowls which had been planted in the neighbourhood by the Board. They were particularly nice to look at, and settings of their eggs were eagerly booked long beforehand. Then one by one they sickened and died. Some people thought they died out of spite, being angered at the way they had been treated in the t

that when you've seen him yourself? He is to be the secretary of the Gaelic League when we get a branch of it started in Carrowkeel. And a good secretary he'll make, for his heart will be in the work. I dare say, now, you've heard of the League when you were up in Dublin. Well,

rowkeel nor you either. You've been good to me, and if I don't take

st wrung

Here or somewhere else in the old country you'll spend your days working f

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