The Whale and the Grasshopper Part 7

THE DILEMMA OF MATTY THE GOAT

"G.o.d bless all here," said Padna, as he pushed open the half-door, and saw Micus sitting by the fireside, reading the newspaper.

"And you too," said Micus, as he turned around and beheld his old friend.

"'Tis a cold night," said Padna.

"A blighting night surely," said Micus. "The wind is coming from the southwest, and we will have rain before morning."

"Indeed we will, as sure as there are fools in Paris," said Padna.

"Why don't you come in?" asked Micus. "Surely you know your way to the hearth?"

"If I don't, I ought," said Padna, as he walked in, closed the door, and occupied a vacant chair beside Micus.

"What brought you out to-night, at all?" said Micus.

"Wisha, nothing in particular, except that I have a story to tell you,"

replied Padna.

"I'm glad to hear that," said Micus, as he placed some f.a.ggots and turf on the fire. "Draw closer and get the benefit of the heat, and you will feel better while you are telling the story."

"Thank you," said Padna, as he moved his chair, and then he lit his pipe with one of the paper pipe-lights that lay on the mantel shelf.

"Is it a story of love or adventure that I am about to hear?" asked Micus.

"'Tis a story of both," said Padna.

"Begin then," said Micus.

"All right," said Padna. And this is what he told:

"Once upon a time, and not very long ago either, there lived a man, a friend of mine, and known to all as one Matty the Goat from Ballydineen. He wasn't much to look at, G.o.d help us! but he was a remarkable man, nevertheless. He always tried to live in peace and quietness, but he had two wives, and--"

"How could he have two wives in an old-fas.h.i.+oned country like this, might I ask?" said Micus.

"Well," said Padna, "his first wife had a bad memory, and she forgot she was married, and one fine day she went away to Australia to see the kangaroos, and remained away so long that Matty thought she was dead, or captured by some traveling showman, to be exhibited in a circus, because she was so ugly and bad-tempered, no one else would think of running away with her. So like all men of susceptible and sentimental propensities, his affection for his first love only lasted until he met the second. Of course, when the years pa.s.sed, and there were no tidings of his wife, he said to himself that he might as well marry again, and accordingly he did so. Well, lo and behold! he was only about twelve months married, and his second wife was beginning to cut down his rations from three boiled duck eggs every morning to one small hen egg that a wren would be ashamed to lay, when a great calamity befell him. His first wife came back, and she less attractive looking than ever. But to be sure she made all the excuses and apologies, as only a woman can, for her lapse of memory and thoughtlessness, and there and then she abused poor Matty for not writing to her and sending cards at Christmas and Easter, and he not knowing where to find her at all, no more than a crow could find his grandmother. But to make a long story as short as a bulldog's temper, poor Matty nearly lost his senses between his two wives, and one only more unreasonable than the other, and the two together less reasonable than any ordinary person, who would have no sense at all. 'So,' ses Matty to himself, 'what, in the name of all that's ridiculous, am I to do now? If I'll stay here in the town, I'll be arrested and imprisoned for having two wives, but that itself would be better than trying to please either one or the other, not to mention both. And if I'll run away I'll be arrested for deserting them. And if either the law of the land, or my conscience had no power over me, and I tried to live with both, I'd be as mad as a March hare in less than a month. Anyway, 'tis a clear case of being obliterated by circ.u.mstances over which one has no control. That's the last consolation a man always offers himself when he cannot get out of a difficulty. There is but one thing for me to do now, and that is to commit suicide by ending my life.'

"And when he made that decision he came to me and ses: 'Padna,' ses he, 'I have made up my mind to take the shortest cut to the other world.'

"'Wisha, I don't believe a word of it,' ses I. 'People who have pluck enough to commit suicide usually have too much pride to boast of it beforehand.'

"'Well, you can't boast or talk of it afterwards,' ses he.

"'That's true, too,' ses I. 'But when is the event going to come off?'

"'I can't say for certain,' ses he. 'But 'twill be as soon as ever I can make up my mind whether New York or Boston would be the best place for me to end my days, and maybe 'tis yourself that could give advice, and tell me what to do.'

"'Bedad,' ses I, 'giving advice is oftentimes as foolish as taking it. However, that's too weighty a problem for a poor man like myself. You must consult some one with more sense. But if I were you, I'd see the King of Spain himself about the matter. He is the one man who I think can help you.'

"'That's a great idea,' ses he. And with that he bid me 'Good day,'

and on the morrow he set sail in a full-rigged s.h.i.+p for the sunny land of Spain. And when he reached the Royal Palace, and rang the bell, the King himself opened the door, and he dressed in a smoking cap, and puffing away from a clay pipe that his mother brought from Bantry when she was there for the good of her manners. And before he asked Matty who he was, how he was, or what he wanted, he up and ses: 'Have you a match?' ses he.

"'To be sure I have a match,' ses Matty. And there and then, he struck a match on the heel of his shoe and lit the King's pipe. And when the King thanked him for his kindness, and complimented him on his skill, then ses he: 'Who the blazes are you anyway to disturb a decent man after a hard day's work? I ate no less than five dinners this blessed day and as many more breakfasts, not to mention all the tobacco that I smoked besides, since I got out of bed this morning.'

"'Oh,' ses Matty, 'I am one Matty the Goat. My father kept a tailor's shop at the corner of a street in Ballydineen; I have two brothers policemen in the great United States of America; I have a first cousin married to a schoolmaster in the north of Antrim; five of my ancestors died from the whooping cough, and one of my grandaunts fell down-stairs and broke her neck; my--'

"'Enough!' ses the King. 'Wait there till I get my autograph book.' And with that he ran up-stairs, and when he came back he handed Matty a mighty book all bound in green plush and ses: 'Matty of Ballydineen,'

ses he, 'put your name down there beside the names of the Emperor of j.a.pan and the King of the Killavullen Islands.'

"And when his name was written, the King rang for the Queen and all the children, and in a twinkling they appeared, and they dressed as well as any of the young ladies you'd see selling knick-knacks behind a counter in one of the shops of the big cities. And as they gathered around the King, he up and ses with a solemn voice: 'Ladies and gentlemen,'

ses he, 'allow me to have the pleasure of presenting to you a member of the Ballydineen aristocracy, one Matty the Goat.' And when the ceremony of introduction was all over, he sent them up-stairs to get their autograph books, so that Matty could contribute his signature to the long list of celebrities and distinguished personages. The Queen herself was delighted with him entirely, and the King invited him to his private room. And when they were comfortably seated before a good warm fire, he up and ses: 'What in the name of all the c.o.c.kroaches in Carrigmacross brought you here, anyway?'

"'A very serious matter, indeed,' ses Matty. 'I came to look for advice. I am a man with no less than two wives, and--'

"'Don't tell me any more till I give you a drop of the best whiskey,'

ses the King. And with that he filled a gla.s.s for Matty and another for himself, and ses: 'There is only one worse thing that could happen a man, and that is to have three wives, or half a dozen foolish sisters-in-law.'

"'Well,' ses Matty, 'I am about to commit suicide, and the devil blast the one of me can make up my mind whether Boston or New York would be the best place to hang my carca.s.s to a lamp-post, jump off a high building, or throw myself under a motor car going at full speed.'

"'Bedad,' ses the King, 'that's something that requires consideration. But let us talk the matter over. Two heads, like two dollars, are better than one, and 'twas by talking and thinking, and holding commune with each other that the Greeks achieved so much in the olden times. We will take the case of Boston first. Boston I believe is a great place and 'tis called the Hub of the Universe. Isn't it?'

"'It is, G.o.d help us!' ses Matty.

"'I wonder why at all?' ses the King.

"'I don't think that any one really knows,' ses Matty, 'unless that it is as good a t.i.tle as any other, and maybe somewhat better.'

"'If that's the case,' ses the King, 'now's the chance for some one to make a discovery.

"'A man, I presume,' ses he, 'could live very comfortably in Boston if he had a lot of money.'

"'Indeed, he could,' ses Matty, 'and live there without any money, if he was lucky enough to be a dethroned monarch of some kind or other, or the inventor of a new religion.'

"'The invention of new religions,' ses the King, 'doesn't seem to beget a spirit of communism, nor does it seem to bring us any nearer Christianity in its ideal state. All the same, I suppose a large city like Boston must have a mayor to look after himself and his people.'

"'Of course, Boston has a mayor and an ex-mayor too,' ses Matty.

"'Bedad,' ses the King, 'as sure as there are bones in a sprat, that must be the reason why 'tis called the Hub. And I dare say,' ses he, 'they must have poets in Boston also.'

"'They have,' ses Matty, 'in the churchyards.'

"'That's the best place for them,' ses the King. 'They will be more respected and appreciated there than anywhere else. Besides, 'tis wiser, cheaper, and more cultured to patronize poets and philosophers when they are dead and famous, than to run the risk of being ridiculed for having the wit to recognise them while they are alive. A poet, G.o.d help us, seldom does any good for himself, but nevertheless he can always be an advantage to posterity, his relations, and the booksellers, after he is dead long enough to be misunderstood,'