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Bog-land Studies

By J. Barlow: 3rd ed
Barlow, Jane (1857?-1917)

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TH' OULD MASTER
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WALLED OUT
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LAST TIME AT M'GURK'S
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BY THE BOG-HOLE
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PAST PRAYING FOR OR, THE SOUPER'S WIDOW
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MISS HONOR'S WEDDING
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A CURLEW'S CALL

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37

XVI

But I tould him the sorra a one, as ye'll see; 'twas no doin' o' mine.
For whin into his room I was come, that seemed dark, passin' out o' the shine
O' the sunset just glimmerin' around yet, th' ould master laned up where he lay
Afther takin' a bit of a rest on the bed, for the most o' that day
He'd been creepin' about to get everythin' readied up dacint 'gin e'er
The young master was home. Goodness help him, it's time he'd enough an' to spare;
No more need to be hurryin' for that than for Doomsday, if on'y he'd guessed—
I was sayin', whin I'd knocked at his door, an' slipped in to decaive him me best,
38

[_]

In the original published text, page 38 and page 58 were transposed. This has been corrected here.

It's beyant an' forby me his eyes kep' on gazin' an' shinin'; I thought
Mayhap some one was follyin' behind me, but whin I looked round I seen nought,
Ne'er a sowl save meself, that I dunna believe he tuk heed on at all.
An' sez he: ‘Och, thin, Denis, me lad, so ye're here? Why, the step in the hall
Sounded strange-like; and I to be listenin', an' never to think it was you.
But, in troth, till ye stood in me sight, I'd no aisier believe me luck true
Than if sthraight ye were come from the Dead. For the time, lad, wint wonderful slow,
An' it seems like the lenth o' me life since ye left us this great while ago;
An' sure only to look down a long lenth o' time sthrikes the could to your heart,
Let alone whin the days sthretch away, each like each, an' nought keeps thim apart
39

Save the nights, when ye sleep scarce enough for a dhrame that as soon as ye wake
Sets ye grievin'. Thim whiles there's no end to the notions an ould body'll take—
And I larned, livin' lonesome, 'twas ould I had grown. If I tould ye the half
O' what all I was vexed wid supposin' an' dhreadin', ye couldn't but laugh.
On'y one thing I've settled, no laughin' about it, but certin an' sure:
I'll not lose ye that long, lad, agin, for it's more than me mind can endure.
True enough, ye're but young in your life, and it's best maybe's waitin' unknown
Worlds away from our bit of an Inish; all's one, ye'll ne'er quit it alone,
For there's plenty no younger than me must be rovin' as ould as they are—
It's together we'll go, you and I, lad, next time that ye're thravellin' so far.
40

Ay, together,’ sez he. An' wid that come two wails o' the wind, an' between
Sthruck a cry that was wailed by no win'; 'twas the girls below raisin' a keen;
But he laned his head back lookin' plased an' con- tint; an' they kep' keenin' on.
They were keenin' for more than they meant all the while, for th' ould master was gone.
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