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THE CLEVERNESS OF DAN*.
i _____
t
By Seumas MacManus ("Mac”).
Anthor of "Through the Turf Stttoke,”
Etc.
Copyright.. 1900, by Seumus MacManus.
The cliverness of Dan there was no
cornin' up till. Like Jimmy Creedon's
kickin' gun, he banged all ever went
afore him, an’ all that came afther
likewise.
There was wanst an' there was a poor
sthrugglin' carpenther come Op to Dub
lin lookin’ for work, an’ put an adver
tisement in the papers to that effect.
The leadin’ butcher in Dublin was at
that very time goin’ to fit up new prim
ises an’ move in til them bekase his
thrade had become too great for the
oul' stand. He was a designin’, cute
vagabone, this butcher, always thryin’
to get the upflbr hand iv every wan he
done business with. An' if they wftr
poor, so much the better; he could
worry them then as he wished an’
laugh at them for their pains if they
tried to take the law iv him. he havin’
the long purse, could let them have
law till they cried ’'Enough!" Well,
this fella wanted, as 1 said, new’ prim
ises fitted up, an’ he was just then
turnin’ over in his mind all the
schaymes he could think iv for gettin'
them fitted free by fair dint iv rog
uery. So when he sees the poor
sthrange carpenter's advertisement in
the papers, he whistled till himself an'
sint for him. An' he made a conthract
with the poor carpenther for him to
take the whole doin' iv the work at
twinty poun’ (which wasn’t near jus
tice), an’ have it finished be a sartin'
day, for a lump sum. Writin's was
dhrawn up atween them then an’ there
an’ signed.
Well, an’ good, the carpenther W'ent
to W’ork on the premises at wanst an’
wrought like a black every day from
early mornin’ till late at night, an’ him
as happy as a king, thinkin’ iv his high
good luck, and the fine money he was
earnin' for the wife an’ the weans,
away at home. But, behold ye, his
employer had taken right good care to
give him more to do than he could do
In contracted time, an’ tuk more nor
SO poun’s worth iv work out iv him. an'
likewise didn’t hurry him, so that it
Was two days, or maybe three, after
time when the work was done, an’ the
carpenther applied for his pay. “Get
out, ye scoundhril. ye!” says his em
ployer. “Geet out iv here, and go about
yer business and thank God that I’m
lenient enough to let ye off wdthout
suin’ ye for breach iv conthract, ye
bare-faced rogue, ye!”
The poor carpenther, he hadn't three
pence in his pocket, an’ he meandhered
off, up an’ down the cowl’ sthreets iv
Dublin, with a lump iv grief in *he
throat iv him, an’ he cryin' inside hts
heart for Mary an’ the childre at home.
When'he was tired enough to dhrop he
sat down on a doorstep, an' the lady iv
the house, seein’ him, come out an lis
tened till his story. She tuk him intil
the house an' after she'd made him put
a hearty male undher his westcoat,
give him a letter to Counselor Dan
O’Connell, an' tould him to lose no time
till he’d be with Dan an’ have his ad
vice on the matther. “If there’s one
man in the three kingdoms,” says she,
“fit to get ye square with the vlllian
that chaited ye, it's Dan.” The poor
fella thanked her with all his heart,
an’ was with Dan afore he had his
mouth wdped. Dan heerd his story
from begtnnin’ to end without sayin’ a
word, an’ then tuk five minutes more in
thinkin’—lyin’ back in his chair with
the eyes in him shut. Then he jumped
till his feet, an’ takin’ his hat an’ stick,
says he, “Come with me!”
The poor fellow didn’t know
■what Dan's game was, but j
he knew enough lv Dan to ax !
no queskins, but put every trlst in
lm, Dan tuk him up wan street an’
down the nixt till they reached the
street in which the butcher had his
malt shop. “Take notice,” says Dan, |
says he, now, "iv what ye’ll see in his
■windy as we pass.” Past - the mait shop
both iv them marches, an’ there was j
the carcass iv a fine sheep, the butcher
was after dhressin’, hung up be its
heels in the windy. When they got
around the next corner Dan halted, and
he axed him if he had taken notice.
“Yis,” says the lad; “there was the
carcass of a brave sheep there..”
"Right,” says Dan. So then Dan be
gins an’ opened up till him a very clev
er plan entirely he had in his head.
An’ the lad, for all that, he was good
natured and simple-hearted, was cute
enough after a fashion, an’ he tuk in
all Dan sayed, and guaranteed to Dan
tht he’d act his part iv it to the let
ter. Then Dan sent him back down the
street again. The man walked boldly
lntil the butcher’s shop, an’ afther tak
ln’ a vtzay iv the sheep that was
strung in the windy, lookin’ it ’round
an’ ’round with the eye half closed,
like a man that knew all ever was
known or could be known about mait,
he sthrikes it a tip with the little rod
he carried in his han’, and says he to
the butcher:
"How much a pound?” says he,
“would ye be afther askin’ for the lit
tle pig?”
“For what?” says the butcher, taken
aback.
“For the little pig—for this little
pig,” says he, tapping it again wdth his
rod.
"The sheep, ye mane—ye gommachan.
ye!” says the butcher with disgust at
the fella's ignorance.
"The sheep I don't mane,” says the
lad, "but the pig—this little pig here.”
“Aeh, ye Ignorant bosthune,” says
the butcher, "don’t you see that’s a
sheep?”
"Come, now.” says he, "none iv yer
thrirks upon thravelers, if ye plaise.
If I'm from the country atself," says
he. “I can know a pig when I see wan.
i . D n O’Connell, the great Irish
i tutor and liberator.
There's pigs there as well as in Dub
lin.”
•’Faith," says the butcher, lookin'
pointed at him, "I don't doubt your
word there,” an’ then the butcher him
; self an’ four or five cronies that wor
I in swappin’ gossip with him, went in-
I til regular fits.
"Come, come,” says the lad. “I didn't
come here to be made game iv. Tell me
if ye plaise, the price iv this pig be the
poun'.”
i "Ye know-nothin’ omadhdwn, ye!”
says the butcher, "didn’t I tell ye it
I was a sheep, and not a pig?"
“Nobbut ye confounded know-nothin'
I omadhawn yerself,” says the lad, ap
i pearin' to get warm on it, "didn't I
tell ye it was a pig, an’ not a sheep?”
“Well, the butcher and his cronies
' went from wan fit of laughin’ intil an
: other at this.
I "I wisht,” said the lad, when they
got through, "I wisht," says he, "when
! ye will show yer ignorance that I could
make ye pay for it, be mains of a bait.”
j "A bait!” says the butcher. “Where
would the lakes iv you get money for
baitin’? I wisht,” says he, “I could
make you pay for your ignorance be
| a bait, if ye w r or only worth tuppence-
I ha’penny, which you aren’t.”
An’ with that, out from his breast
pocket the lad pulls a little bag wih
30 sovereigns an' a running sthring in
! it, which Dan O’Connell had handed
i to him for the purpose at the corner;
I an' he counted out the thirty gold
pieces.
"Tha's some little savin’s i’ mine,”
says he. "Are ye able to cover it?"
Faith the cheatery eye iv the butch
er glistened, an’ he bounced away an’
in a crack was back again with his
own bag, counted out 30 gold sover
eigns, too —an' placed beside the other
30.
“Now,” says the lad, "who's to be
stakeholder, and who's to be judge?”
The butcher axed him if he had any
objections to wan iv the lads that was
standin’ there actin’,
"Why," says the man, "I haven't no
objection in the wide wurrl’ to any iv
yer friends— they’re daicent men an'
honest,l’m sartin sure,an’ would wrong
no man—but,” says he, “with all that,
I think it would be a sort iv more sat
isfactory to all parties consarned, to
leaive the matter to some parson who
hasn’t been listenin’ to the dispute,
an’ doesn’t know either iv us.”
"Well an’ good,” says the butcher,
who was so sure iv the big haul he
was goin’ to have off the poor man that
THAT ANIMAL, SIR, IS A PIG.
he could afford to be generous. “Well
an’ good," says he, “what plaises |you
’ll plaise me.” ' /
“Then suppose we lave it to the first
comes in?” says the lad.
“Agreed!" says the butcher.
"An’ here,” says the lad, as he look
ed out iv the door, "here's a very
gran’ Jintleman entirely comin.' ”
An’ the nixt minnlt Dan O'Connell
himself, an’ he whistlin’ like a lark, an’
twirlin' his stick, comes steppin' intil
the shop.
The butcher an' all iv them tuk off
their hats to Counselor O'Connell, an’
he smiled on them all, an’ bid them all
time o’ day. namin’ them by name, in
the winnin' way that Dan could with
every sowl, big or small, in Dublin; an'
he even sayed “Good morntn’, sthrang
er," to the lad, an’ axed how was the
crops lookin’ down the country, an'
what were they thinkin’ if the chances
iv repeal now; an’ then he told the
butcher that Nancy, the housekeeper,
had axed him step in here on his way
to the Four Coorts, an’ prdher a cut iv
his primest mait to be sent aroun' that
evenin’.
“I'm honored be the ordher, counsel
lor," says the butcher. “An’ if ye
plaise, there’s wan little case ye’d
oblige us be decidin' afore ye go to
the Four Coorts—if ye’d be so good.”
“Why,” says Dan, satin’ himself,
“it'll give me every pleasure. What’s
the case, pray?"
The butcher put intil Dan’s hands
the 60 sovereigns to hold, and then
axed him to step forrid to the windy
an’ view the baste that was hangin’
there.
Dan. he stepped forrid an’ looked it
up an' down, and handled it, An’
“Why, I see npthin’ wrong with this
animal," says Dan. •
“It isn't that," says the butcher,
but the qpeskin I want to put to ye
is, What kind iv an animal is that?”
“Why, a good animal,"''says (Dan.
lookin’ round as if he’d like to see the
man that dared say otherwise—“a very
good animal, indeed.”
“Yis, but,” says the butcher, "tvhat
I maint to ax is. What animal is it?
Whether it is hog, dog or Jackass?”
"Come now," says Dan, says he, ‘is
it wantin' to make fan i' me yen are?' ”
“O, no, no, counselor," says he, “upon
me varacity we aren't. We're in dead
earnest, an’ there's that bait iv :!0
poun’ a side as to what animal It is.”
“Now, now,” Dan says, lookin' from
the baste to the butcher an’ from the
butcher back to the baste again, “I
know yez must be makin’ fun.”
“The devil a morsel o' fun,” says the
butcher.
“An' sure,” says Dan, says he, touch
in' the carcase, "there’s no man or his
mother from here to Japan an' back
again but knows that animal!"
"No man or his mother, exceptin' an
ignorant gommaehan." says the butch
er. “An' we've got that gommaehan.
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There he is,” says he, indycatin’ the
sthranger. "He'll not give in till what
the animal is at all, at all, an’ we’re
goin’ to make him pay sass for teach
in’ him. It's left to you, air, now, to
tell him.”
"Well, you are a gommachan,” says
Dan, says he, turnin' an’ takin' a vlzzy
iv the sthranger. "Ye're a gomma
chan, an’, with ail respects, a highly
ignorant gommachan, an’ richly de
sarve to lose yer money if ye don’t
know a pig when ye see it. That ani-.
mal, sir, is a pig!”
The sthranger shuk the dust iv Dub
lin from his heels that night; an’ it
was him was the thankful man to Dan
O’Connell, an’ happy man when he
counted down 30 good sovereigns on
his own table at home to his wife the
very next night.
But a long sight abler an’ better it
was that Dan wrought on the Oxfoord
professors, makin’ hares iv them, an’
outwittin' them so that the people
aren't done laughing at them till this
day.
Ye see, it was this way; After our
great college in Maynooth was built
an' started, the big colleges in England,
purticklarly Oxfoord, was never tired
iv throwin’ all sorts iv ugly disparage
ments on our college, an’ they sayed it
would never come to nothin’. Well,
Maynooth was maybe 30 years or more
going when one summer there was
some iv the Maynooth professors was
over to see London; an’ as they wor on
the groun' they dhropped in to see Ox
foord college. The laist honor the Ox
foord professors could do was to give a
dinner in their honor—and they did
that. A rousin’ fine spread it was,
with the best an' dearest of all aitables
an' dhrtnkables —maits an' wines; an'
all the most learned gentlemen In Lon
don, too, was invited to the dinner.
But, when the dhrink begun to go to
the heads iv the Englishmen they be
gan braggin’ iv Oxfoord college, an'
lastin' up to the Maynooth professors
that they hadn’t nothin’ in Ireland to
touch up to it. Of course, the May
nooth men had to stan’ up for their
counthry an' their college, an’ tell
them back again that there was more
lamin’ in the little finger lv any wan
Maynooth man than in the whole body
iv the biggest man they could choose
in Oxfoord. Wan word borrowed an
other; an' argument grew hot till the
end iv it was the Maynooth professors
riz to their feet an’ threw down a chal
lenge for the five picked men, the most
larned an’ knowledgable in Oxfoord
college, to enter intil a contest with the
professors iv Maynooth—an' then they
left the room. Well, to be sure, the
Maynooth men had no sooner thrown
down this challenge than they wor
sorry for it, bekase they knew well
there was men in Oxfoord college that
ganged the wurrl’ an' couldn’t be puz
zled in any wan subject under the sun,
no matter what it was. An’ more, be
the same token, ye may be perfectly
sartin the Oxfoord men was dancin’
with delight, an' lost no time takin’ up
the challenge, an' fixin’ a day an' date
for sendin' their men over to the con
test.
All the larned men if Maynooth be
gan studyin' night an’ day; but they
felt in a pickle over It. An’ the nearer
the big day dhrew, the worse they
felt. The whole think was advartised
over the three kingdoms, an’ through
out France an' ivery other larned
country, an’ the whole wurrl’ was
waitin’ to hear iv the result if the
great contest. The mornin’ afore the
big day the most larned an’ ablest of
all the Maynooth professors got up
from the table an' Hung his book as
far as he could from him. "It's no use,”
says he, "it's all no use! We aren't the
matches for the Oxfoord men. an' we'll
be disgraced an’ our college an’ coun
thry 'ill be disgraced, in the face tv the
wurrl’!” An’ ivery other professor
flung his book from him, too, an' give
in: "It’s no use; It’s no use! We’re
ruined an' disgraced. An’ they sat
down, nursin’ their knees an’ waitin’
for the morra.
The professor who was mostly to
blame for givin' the foolish challenge
tuk It sorely to heart. He went mum
pin' an’ mopin’ about the house an' not
knowin’ what to do at all. at all, to
save them all from disgrace. Like a
flash a bright thought sthruck him—
an’
“Boys." says he. "why mayn't we ax
Dan O’Connell’s help?”
The wan looked up at him an’ the
other looked tip at him—an’—
“Dan O’Connell!" says they, that
way, "Botheration! They’d floore him
out Iv a Tteadin’-me Daisy!" •
"I don’t main that,” says he; “but
ye know' there niver yet was a corner
so tight that Dan couldn’t find a sure
way out iv."
Faith, they began to reflect on this,
an’ wan sayed this an’ another sayed
•A Reading-Made-Easy, the first
hook put in a child’s hands in the old
schools.
that, but In the en' they decided that
it mightn’t be any harm to give Dan
a trial, anyhow.
In post haste—though be that time
it was the middle iv the night—
Into Dublin the professor posted
an’ knocked up Dan out Iv
presence was required at Maynooth In
stantly on a case iv life an’ daith—an’
hois'ed Dan off with him to the col
lege.
They give in their case to Dan, an’
axed him to rack his brain, an’ if, be
hook or be crook, he could show them
how to save the honor iv Maynooth
college, they wouldn’t never forget it
to him.
"Upon my faith,” says Dan, says he,
shakin’ his head when he heerd them
out, "yez is fitted intil a purty close
fix.”
"Dan,” says they, "for heaven’s sake,
can ye get us out iv it?”
"Give me,” says Dan, says he, “two
hours, two ounces iv tibacky, a jug iv
whisky an’ a quiet room —an’ at the en’
iv that I’ll tell ye whether it's in the
power i’ man to help ye out or not.”
He got as he axed, an’ all Maynooth
sat down outside his doore, watchin’
the way-be-the-wall till the two hours
was up. An’ at two hours to the very
second the doore opens an’ Dan step3
out.
"Well?” they all shouts at a breath.
"Well,” says Dan, "there’s a chance
for yez—a chance."
“Thank God," says they, "even for a
chance. What is it?”
"Produce,” says Dan, says he, "yer
best Greek scholar, yer best Haybrew
scholar, an’ yer best Sangscrit scholar.”
They done this.
“Now,” says Dan. “produce me three
shoots (suits) iv the raggedest work
man’s clothes ye can get.”
In short time they had these to the
fore.
"Now,” says Dan to the three schol
ars, "get intil that room, peel off yez
an’ dive intil these garments as fast
as if the divil was followin’ yez,” for
the time wos now gettin’ short.
When they were decorated in these
robes Dan ordhtred them step out with
him on the Dublin road, an’ out they
stepped.
"As I come dhrivin’ to this place at
var'us times,” says he, "I used to no
tice three stone br’akers at three dif
ferent crossroads. We’re goin’ to see
them.”
They reached the first stone br’aker,
a mile from the college, an’ Dan or
dhered him off the heap an’ put nis
hammer intil the hand iv the Sangscrit
scholar, placed him on the heap, an’
sayed a word in his ear. “An’ now,”
says he, "bang away like the hammers
iv Newry."
On he went with the other two, an’
placed the Haybrew scholar on the
second heap iv stones, three mile from
the college, givin’ him his private di
rections also. An’ the third man, the
Greek scholar, he placed on the heap
at the next crossroads six mile from
the college—with instructions likewise.
It wasn’t now far off the time an
nounced for the big contest, an’ the
last man wasn’t long on his heap
'when the carriage containin’ the Ox
foord champions dhruv up. It halted
at the crossroads, not knowin’ which
road to take (as Dan knew it would),
an’ says they, "Here's an oul’ stone
br-aker 'ill diract us the right way.”
So they give time i’ day to the oul’
man on the heap, an’ axed him plaise
diract them on the proper road to
Maynooth. Back to them straight he
gives time 1’ day again, an’ the prop
er diractions, all in Greek.
Faith, the Oxfoord men was dumb
foundhered, an’ they wor sadly shak
in’ their heads as they dhrove on
again; an’ for the first time since the
challenge was thrown out their hearts
begun to give way. They hauled out
their notes books in which th\' wor
keepin’ an account iv their whole jour
ney' an’ wrote down in them; "Six
miles from Maynoonth College the
stone-br-akers on the roadsides spaiks
Greek only in or’nary conversation.”
Very well an’ good, when they come
to the nixt crossroads they hauled up
again an’ inquired off an oul’ stone
br’aker who was there the proper turn
to take for the college in Maynooth.
This lad looked from his heap, an’ sa
luted them, an’ give them the proper
diractions. completely in Haybrew.
At the third and last crossroads
they stopped the carriage again, an’
give time i’ day an’ axed directions
off an oul' stone-br'aker who was peg
gin’ away at a heap iv stones here.
This lad replied to them, an’ give them
full diractions how to reach Maynooth,
entirely in Sangscrit!
The five professors shoved their
heads out iv the carriage! an’ roared
to the coachman. “Dhrlve like the dev
il for Dublin!” Then they fell back an’
fainted in wan another’s arms. That
night, as they crossed in a boat to
England, they wrote in their note
books: "A mile from Maynooth the
Very stone-br-akers scorn to spaik
anything but Sangscrit in or’nary con
versation. We saved the honor iv Ox
ford be the clainest race on record.”
In all iv Dan’s career none iver out
witted him only the woman that he
defended for stallin’ the bullock.
The woman was up for sellin’ a bul
lock which she claimed was her own,
but which the prosecutor was goin’ to
prove that she stole from him. An’
when Dan went into the whole case he
saw that there was such evidence as
would convict her without the jury iver
leaven’ the box. Dan was then con
vinced that he was dallin' with a dis
honest person, an' he'd like to have
washed his hands of her an' her case,
only it would then be put about that
he give it up bekase he wasn't diver
enough to get a vardict. “So," thought
Dan, “there's no way out iv it; I must
go on with the case; an’ as I’m goin’
on with it I must keep up me reputa
tion, an’ get the woman out clear.”
Moreover she had offered a great fee
entirely to Dan If he could succeed in
gettin’ her off. “Sleep alsy, ma'am,”
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Poison Ivy “ # Sff
BOTANICAL REPTILES B|i
THeir Sting Sets tHe Skin on Fire and Fills
tke Veins witH a Violent, Lingering Poison
These plants seem to partake of the nature and character of the Ha
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blood SATURATED WITH POISON OAK. [ ences or rocks, sometimes reach-
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remained in a precarious condition, con- tile tlOWerS are OI a greenish white
?Y.VB*i” .“riiV.'M: color, and the berries pale green or
s’Tsa f 7 he ° a . k is , a sma !’ shrub > seldom morc than three
cured entirely, i think it the best blood feet high, its size depending upon the nature of the soil
medicine made. location, etc.; the leaves are long and pointed with saw
hke edges and a downy appearance underneath. While the two plants are entirely unlike
in appearance, the poisonous effects are ,verv similar.
After the swelling subsides the skin remains for a long Returned every spring for 18 years.
time in a rough and inflamed condition, dotted here and ca” 7. e t n o n thou°. f anls C of
there with bad looking ulcers and little festering sores. S'’wwMghfyears"^
It is truly remarkable with what reerularitv and 1 we f® P oi °“ e d by handling poison oak.
. o and ** broke out on us every spring for
certainty tne aisea.se returns, and always on schedule eighteen years. Someone recommended S,
time, appearing the same month, day and hour, almost, have - ’.Ten o lUTigns” of C °thf eVuptioSs
that it did the year before. Don’t be deceived should all ,everal 80 * son> ’
the signs of the poison vanish soon after the first attack —the acrid juices have been taken
through the open skin pores into the blood, and the most persistent and faithful use of
external remedies can never dislodge them, and next season, and for years to come, you may
expect to endure the same bodily tortures; the blood in the meantime becoming so saturated
and charged with the poison that each succeeding attack
leaves the body weaker and recovery more uncertain and
l I slow, and thus the once simple malady ends disastrously,
For every poisonous plant, tree, shrub or flower, nature
j ] has wisely provided an antidote or cure. The roots and
herbs of which S. S. S. is composed quickly, surely and
permanently overcome and drive out of the blood and
system the effects of Poison Ivy, Poison Oak, Virginia Creeper, Thunder Weed, Sumac and
vegetable poisons of every variety. S. S. S. will be found an invaluable and perfect antidote
for poisons of this class. There is never any return of the aggravating symptoms after a
course of S. S. S., as it destroys every vestige of the poison.
Don’t abandon hope because of repeated failures. State your case to our doctors; we feel
sure they can help you. Medical advice will cost you nothing and is strictly confidential.
Book on Blood and Skin Diseases free. SWIFT SPECIFIC CO., Atlanta, Ge.
says he, “an’ consider yer case already
dismissed.”
So, on the mornin’ lv the thrial Dan
had a private consultation with her,
an' posted her on what she was to do.
When the trial was reached the coort
was filled with both people and bar
risthers—bekase it had been the whole
talk for a length iv time afoeghan’
about the wonderfully diver case Dan
was goin’ to win an’ the mighty big
fee he was goin’ to earn. An' when the
woman was placed in the dock an’
heerd the charge read she looked very
silly entirely, an’ twirled her thumbs,
wan over another, an’ sayed out,
“Ochon! me poor calve, ye’re soul, ye're
soul!” an’ the judge an’ jury all looked
quare at her. Then when the queskin
was put till her ,"Are ye guilty or not
guilty?” she twirled her thumbs an’
looked silly and sayed, “Ochon! me
poor calve, ye're soul, ye’re soul!” An’
the judge and jury looked at her quarer
still. An' the judge then begun further
queskins iv wan kind an’ another till
her, but the sorra an answer he could
dhraw from her but “Ochon! me poor
calve, ye’re soul’, ye’re soul,!” So up
the Judge jumps at length, an’ he flam
in' mad, an’ he wanted to know who
was responsible for bringin’ a poor
idiot woman up afore him an’ puttin’
her in the dock. “Warder!” he shouts,
“throw open the dock doors this ins’ant
an’ let that poor woman go free, an’
her own wans (people) look afther
her!” An’ down out of the dock, a
free woman, she steps; an' all smilin’
to herself, steers for the coort doore.
But me brave Dan, though he was
mighty delighted with his success,
wasn’t the man to forget his fee; so,
he made a sthride afther an' tips her
on the shoulder —all the barristhers an’
judge an’ jury an’ all in the coort
sthrainin' their necks watchin’. “Me
good woman,” says Dan, holdin’ out
his hand, “my fee, plaise, if it’s con
venient!” She put on again the silliest
look ever sat on an idiot's countenance
an’, twirlin’ her thumbs, says she:
“Ochon! me poor calve, ye’re soul’,
ye’re soul’!”
GOO-G 00! THE GIANT.
He Lend. itn Army to Victory and
Then Retires on His Laurels.
Our arrival at the capital after the
great victory over the robbers created
such an excitement as was never known
before. For three days the people were
shouting, waving flags and firing can
non, and it was a holiday for old and
young. When the people had finally
quieted down and dispersed to their
homes the King sent for me. On this
occasion he sat on his throne, with the
•Queen beside him and many nobles
present, and as I knelt before him he
said:
“Goo-Goo, no one could have done
better, and we thank you. Name what
you will as a reward, and it shall be
yours:
“Oh. King. I ask but to serve you," I
replied, and at that there was a great
dapping of hands and the King and
Queen were much pleased His Maj
esty pinned a golden star on my breast,
and presented me with a sword which
had jewels set in the handle, and I
bowed myself out of his presence.
That same evening I talked with him
in his private reception poom, with only
two or three other people present.
When we had talked of the battle and
the victory, and he had told me that
he should hang half the captured rob
bers and set the other half at liberty,
he said
"Goo-Goo, you are brave and clever,
but as you have never been to school
,yo\i have no education. This is a sad
drawback. I have great plana for your
future, but unless you secure an edu
cation they will come to naught. No
ignorant can become a great
man.”
I replied that I would be only too
glad to go to school and study hard,
and it was arranged that I should live
at the palace and have a private tutor.
I began my studies the very next day,
and I may tell you that I continued
them for five years. I had the best
teachers in Siam, and as I was ambi
tious to succeed, I got along wonder
fully well. The King was pleased with
my progress, and complimented and
encouraged me from time to time.
When I was 20 years old I could fence,
box, speak three Qr four different lan
guages, and was well up in the higher
studies. Indeed, my teachers said that
there were . but few better educated
men in Siam. When my education was
finished, the King said:
“Goo-Goo, I have been waiting for
L— -
OH, KING. I ASK BUT TO SERVE YOU,” I REPLIED,
this day. Simll, the General of my army
is old and would retire from active
service, and I wish you to take his
place. You have studied the science of
war with other things, and I am sura
you will make a success in your new
position.”
A few days later he issued a pro
clamation making me commander-in
chief. and as soon as the army could
be made ready I set out for the frontier
of Anam. The ruler of that country had
become very impudent towards Siam,
and had even threatened to make war,
and it was deemed best to cure him of
his big-head before he went too far.
With fifteen hundred troops at my
back I marched swiftly across the
country’for four days, and then we fell
upon Ponompein. the capital city of
Anam, and captured It without a blow.
Mo news bad been had of our coming, -
and we reached and entered the city at
night. The ruler was in bed and sound
asleep, as were most of his people, and
when he found his city captured and
himself a prisoner he was frightened
half to death. He begged for his life,
and offered all he had if I would spare
him. I had not come to kill him, but to
teach him a lesson. I took away all
the guns and swords from his army,
exploded his powder and blew up his
forts. Then I loaded 200 of his donkeys
with clothes, rugs, beads, furs and food
and set out for home, and he was
thankful enough to see the last of me.
Later on I made an expedition to the
Chinese frontier to drive out some Chi
nese troop who had captured one of
cur forts, and I gave them a lesson
long to be remembered. After about
two years the Malays began a war
against us that lasted a year, and they
sued for peace after being well thrash
ed. During the ten years I served as
general there was plenty of fighting
to do, and I was wounded four times.
At last, when the country was at peace
and likely to remain so, I asked the
King to let me resign and take up my
residence in the country. I was tired
of war and public life and wanted to
get married and live a quiet life.
"Goo-Goo, I shall miss you vr j'y
much, hut you may go,” replied the
King. "As long as we have peace you
may live as a country gentleman, hut
if war breaks out you must come back
and lead my army.”
He gave me a great sum of money
and many honors and decorations and
we parted great, good friends, anh
though I greatly enjoy the life I am
now leading, should the King need my
services he has only to send me a mes
sage and I shall hasten to obey.
ffHE END,