559

LONG JIM:

OR, THE TIPPERARY PROCESS-SERVER.

BY A "COVE" OF CORK.

ON a fine, cold, frosty morning, in the month of November, I think it was, in the year-no matter what year, I started from "the Town of Honey," (which is a literal translation from the vernacular " Clounmolla," fashionably corrupted into Clonmel,) by what was, and, for aught I know to the contrary, still is, called the "Mail Car," a machine by which one horse drags you side-ways through the world, while you sit in sulky silence with your back to your opposite neighbour, or poke your elbows into the ribs of him or her who happens to sit beside you, (and of course you reciprocate the compliment,) with, now and then, a " Sir, the rain from your umbrella is dropping down my neck, and my lap is already full of water," and it is more than likely, you accompany the intimation with one of those half-uttered phrases, for the terrible use of which we are assured our troops were remarkable in Flanders. However, nothing of this sort occurred upon the present occasion, for, as I have already stated, the morning was clear, dry, and frosty. We started at about an hour after day-light; I say "we," for there were two of us, to wit, myself, and a tall individual, wrapt up in a military cloak, who would not condescend to share a seat with me, but preferred turning his back upon me, and would, no doubt, upon all the world beside, but for the "side-long" motion of the "Car." Well, on we went, without exchanging a word, for about five miles, when the driver pulled up, and another tall individual, but by no means of military aspect, demanded a seat. To my astonishment, then, (but the event afterwards explained it,) the driver gave this man a look which plainly said, "I'd as soon see the devil on the car as you," while at the same time he put in all sorts of crotchets and quavers, to induce the man to wait for the Mail Coach.

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"'Tis for Nenagh you are, is it?"

"Iss it is, hurry a vic, and open the apron at onct, and let us be góin'."

"Why thin, sure you wont gain anything by comin' wood me, becase you'll have to wait in Limbrick for the coach, an' wouldn't it be betther for you, and more comfortable into the bargain, to wait at home, than in sthrange place?"

"Here, here, don't be keepin me standin' here in the cowld wood yer parlayin', but open the apron and let me up at wanst," while at the same time he proceeded to do so himself, and before the driver had got down, he had got up, and seated himself, quite to his own satisfaction evidently, beside me. He was a tall man, as I have said, over six feet high, and of powerful muscular proportions. He was one of the peasantry of the country, and was better dressed than they usually are, for in addition to the general coarse but whole and clean clothing, he wore an enormous blue over-coat, and a hat with a broad brim, which he had pulled so far over his forehead, that, what with it and the collar of the coat, I could but indistinctly see his face.

We reached the town of Caher with as strict an observance of

silence as if we had both been born dumb; and the driver too, who had, all the morning, been whistling and singing in high spirits, appeared to have lost all the wonted cheerfulness of his class, as if the addition of this one to our party portended some ill luck.

While we were changing horses, or rather horse, for it would appear that the conveyance of her Majesty's day-mail through those wild districts would not then warrant a more numerous team,-while, I say, a fresh horse was being put to, one of those loungers who infest every coach-office in Ireland, particularly in such miserable, melancholy, silent, deserted places, or spaces, as Caher, miscalled a town, (though the mansion of the Noble lord of the soil is in the centre of it, and the lord himself a lord of vast possessions,) one of those halffed, half-clothed poor devils, lounged up to the front of the seat I occupied, and stretching forth his arms and mouth in a protracted yawn, peered into the face of my new neighbour, and, at once recognising him, thus addressed him :—

"Arra Jim, your sowl, is that you?-Wisha Dhee yiv,* a vic; an' how is it wood ye?-be gorra 'tis a great while now sense we see ye in these parts. Is it home you'd be goin', Jim, or are ye at the ould thrade still?"

Jim, all this time kept his head down and maintained a most imperturbable silence, which his inquisitor appeared to translate into an affirmative to the latter question, for he went on, while several others of the same class had drawn near.

"Why, thin, be gorra, Jim, 'tisn't kind father for the likes av you, but to earn an honest penny, for yer father and mother's child ought to have some sperrit, and lave dirty work to the shoneens.*

A voice from the crowd here called out, "Come, boys, who'll give Long Jim a thrate?" which was followed by a shout of laughter, and several other voices calling out, "Faiks, thin, maybe he'll get a thrate on the road, who knows?" and a knowing wink was instantly telegraphed between several of the fellows assembled, which ap peared to make the driver anything but comfortable, for he jumped hastily into his seat, and as he cracked his whip, and the horse bounded beneath it, we dashed down the precipitous hill which lies between Lord Glengall's house and the Castle Bridge, while a shout followed us, in which I could distinctly hear the words, ""Tis well for you, Jim, that you're in good company to day, or be gonnies the daylight wouldn't save you.'

I had travelled this road many times before, and by the same conveyance, and never, until this morning, knew the driver to neglect the precaution of putting on the drag or break. We were now going at a fearful pace, and I had to hold on by the iron rail round the seat with both hands, to save myself from being dashed off. Jim did the same, while he uttered the most fearful imprecations against the driver, who certainly did not appear to care much what might happen. However, he tugged or affected to tug at the headlong brute, but with no effect, for on he went until we were within about twenty yards of the bridge, when he came down on his knees, which were dreadfully torn, while Jim, the driver, and myself rolled over and over in a heap, amid cries of terror from those who had run after us, and who expected every moment to see us all find a watery grave.

* God save you, my son.

+ Low fellows.

However, with the exception of a few bruises and a great deal of road-dirt, we all escaped uninjured; another horse was put to, and this time we started at a more moderate pace.

Again the silence remained for a long time unbroken, and I was just meditating how I could manage to draw Jim into a chat, when we gained the summit of a hill. The sun had just burst from behind a cloud; and as any remark upon the weather is sure to elicit an answer, I said, turning to Jim, "I think we shall have a fine day."

Jim turned his head round, turned his coat down, and turned his hat up, and betrayed a rather ill-conditioned countenance. He had as many half-healed scars upon it as if he had seen " many a well fought field," while his lip, chin, and cheeks were in that state that reminded me of an answer made me once by a friend with whom I remonstrated upon the necessity of shaving, namely, "Why, my dear fellow, I shaved last week."

Jim looked at the sun, the clouds, and the direction of the wind, and then announced that he concurred in opinion with me as to the sort of day we were likely to have, and in five minutes more we were in high conversation, for a cigar which I offered, and which he eagerly accepted, appeared to be the right key wherewith to unlock his wordy treasury.

"You're fond of smoking, I see, Jim?"

"Oh! faiks, you're right there, 'tis myself that is, particularly the likes o' these."

"Musha, be my sowl 'tis no wandther for the likes o' you to have impedence whin gintlemin will cock ye up wood seegares," chimed in the driver, who had turned round on hearing Jim's remark, and gave him a look of unmistakable indignation.

"Did ye spake to me, young man ?" asked Jim of the jarvey. "Did I spake to you is it? musha I'd be well in my way-spake to you indeed 'Tis come to a purty pass wood me when I have no wan to spake to but you."

"I tell you what, ye spalpeen," said Jim, starting to his feet and scowling on the driver, who certainly was no match for him in physique, "I tell you what, I want none of your talk any how."

"You want as much as you'll get av it; an maybe you'll somethin' else that you want more, but don't expect this bout," and jarvey whipped his horse as he uttered the last sentence.

"Well, Jim," asked I, "what did those fellows mean by the 'old trade,' this morning?

"Oh yea, sir, they wor hambuggin'; 'tis a way they have when they meets an ould friend an the road."

"Tis a way they have, is it? I'll take the vestment they'll make you lave off some av yer ways afore long," half muttered the driver. "But what is the old trade, Jim?"

"Arra, how does I know? I suppose they manes the surveyin' line that I took to, wanst upon a time, an I was obleeged to give it up, becase they said I med a mistake, an 'twas no use goin' an wood it; and sorry I am now I didn't stick to it."

"Faith, ye never tould truth till now," growled the driver.

"And the mistake, what was that?

"Why you see, when you're larnin' surveyin', these things in it

that they calls grayjunts, and the divil a wan o' me could ever undherstand what they wor, though I was tould they meant that the higher up a road went, 'twas so many feet above the level, an av coorse the lower down you could keep the road, the betther. Well, you see, I offered to make a road, wanst upon a time, and be me sow a long wan it was, twenty miles, divil a yard less, as I'm a sinner."

"You a sinner, Jim! oh, yea farrgah, is it you!" cried jarvey with a chuckle.

"Mind your own business, young man, I'd have ye. Well, sir, as I was a sayin', when that spalpeen intherupted me, the road was to be twenty miles long, over a stiff counthry, but av coorse it was my business to take as much av the grayjunts out av it as I could, so whin I was before the binch o' magisthrates, they says to me, "Well, will you ondhertake to make this road?' says they. "In coorse I will, gintlemin,' says I.

"How long is it?'

"Twenty miles, yer hanar.'

"What are the grayjunts in it?' says wan.

my sowl to glory "

Here was a puzzler ;

"Oh! murdher! oh, ho, ho, ho!" shouted the driver.

"My sowl to glory, sir," continued Jim, without heeding the interruption this time, "my sowl to glory, sir, but you see I thought the best thing I could do was to have as little o' them in it as I could, so I ups an says, 'The grayjunts, sir, is it?'

"Iss, iss,' says they, in what proportion are the grayjunts?' "Oh, sir,' says I, they're about wan in two.'

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"Arra, my dear sir, wood that, you see, they set up a shout at me, and tould me to go about my business, and larn some other thrade besides surveyin'."

"An' an honest wan you swapt it for, too, Jim," added jarvey.

I certainly was obliged to shout out laughing aloud, at which Jim appeared utterly confounded.

By this time the day had become beautifully clear and fine: the sun shone out from an unclouded sky; the road was wide, hard, and level, and for nearly a mile ran in a direct line, and was bounded on either side by a high hedge or "ditch," as it is unaccountably called in the Emerald Isle; the country all around, as far as the eye could scan, was most beautifully undulated, and well adapted for hunting; a sport which few days of the season it did not witness, while, in the distance, the magnificent range of the Galtees raised their snowy summits to the heavens. It was a most enchanting scene, and I was contemplating it with all the delightful, refreshing feeling which the grandeur of nature, be the season what it may, cannot fail to inspire; and in the distribution of which, the hand of the great Creator has been so lavish in that paradox of inexhaustible riches and incredible poverty, Ireland,—I was lost in admiration of this panorama when a shout or shriek of horror burst upon my ear, and almost threw me off. Before I could recover from the shock, I received a blow of some blunt weapon from behind, which split my hat and nearly my head; and as I was in the act of falling, I also saw the driver tumbling from his

* "For shame."

seat, heels over head, and the next moment we both measured our lengths on the road. In an instant I was again upon my feet, and ran to the side of the road opposite to where I had fallen, and with my back close to the hedge, and nearly up to my knees in mud, contemplated the scene.

And such a scene! I was utterly at a loss to comprehend it. The driver was in the act of gathering himself up, but evidently afraid to do so, while he shouted out at the very top of his voice, “Oh! blessed Vargin, I'm kilt - Oh! holy St. Kevin, look down an me!—I'm spilt. Oh! St. Pether, an' Paul, an' all the saints, purtect us - shure it can't be 'tis the letthers they want? Oh! glory be to God, what 'ill become o' me this day if they takes the bags?-oh, boys-gentlemin I mane, for your mothers' sowls, an' the souls ov all belongin' to you, look doun an the pore orphan and lave me the mail."

In this strain he continued to howl and shout, while at the head of the horse stood a gigantic fellow, in whose nervous gripe the reins were firmly fixed, and the horse perfectly powerless, though restiff; over the opposite hedge were scrambling a number of women and children and some men; a cloud of stones every instant darkened the air, which was also rent by the most wild and savage shouts in Irish. Jim was still standing on the foot-board of the car, his knees on the seat, and his head bent, ostrich fashion, into the "well," as it is called, while huge lumps of limestone were hopping off his broad back like so many racket balls.

For about a minute and a half he remained in this attitude, yelling like a bull “Murdher, murdher, neighbours, will no wan save me, oh, oh, oh!" he then rolled off the car, and fell, full length, behind it, whereupon the women and children, and two or three lads of about seventeen, rushed upon the unhappy wretch and commenced a fearful onslaught of stones and kicks.

By some means he managed, notwithstanding the imminent peril he was in, to gain his feet, strike out in all directions, and every blow told, and felled the party with fearful violence. In the next instant he rushed to where I stood, made a blow at me, no doubt mistaking me, for the blood from his head nearly blinded him, and had I received that blow, I would not now be here to tell the tale, for I think it would have felled an ox!

The driver was my friend and saviour upon the occasion; the blow was descending when the lead-loaded end of his whip split poor Jim's ear, and the blood literally spouted from the wound. He reeled and staggered but did not fall at this moment there appeared to be a truce to afford breathing time, for what I have just described was so instantaneous that I had not collected my senses. Jim, however, appeared to understand it all very well; he took advantage of the pause, rushed with the swiftness of a hunted deer to a cabin door, but it was slammed in his face; then at another, but with as little success; and as he was passing me to reach the third, I never, never can forget the concentration of horror and despair his eye betrayed. He bounded madly at the door - it was slammed in his face,—the stones again began to shower, amidst deafening shouts of " Ah, the stag!""To betray his own!"-"Down with him!”—“Ah, Shamus Slough!"— "Ah, ha, take that!" as each missile told. He turned round once and glared upon his assailants, and the affrighting picture of blood and dirt