In Chimney Corners - McManus Seumas - Страница 24
- Предыдущая
- 24/26
- Следующая
“Well, Jack,” sez the King, “surely the trouts aren’t wagging their tails at you this morning, now that we have built ye that beautiful new bridge, that there isn’t the like of it in the country again?”
“Aren’t they though?” sez Jack, sez he. “Its a nice show, your bridge is, this morning, if ye’d be so kind as to go out and look at it, and see how there isn’t the second stone of it together, and it’s the trouts that know it—the sweet sorra,” sez he, “seize the little sowls of the rascals; I never saw them going through such tantrums; it’s what one old boyo of a trout that I have had my eye on for the last month curled his tail actually round to his nose,” sez he, “and winked his eye out at me,” sez he.
“Ye don’t tell me so, Jack?” sez the King. “Well, well, this is a purty how d’ye do. Well, Jack,” sez he, “I suppose there’s no use crying over spilt masonry, no more nor spilt milk, and all we can do is call the masons together again, and build it up.”
So, called together they were, and the bridge was up again afore night. And my brave Jack was up with the lark in the morning, and down to the river with his rod, but oh, sorra seize the bridge or bridge was there! It was scattered to the four winds; and the trouts, the scoundhrils, they were ten times more provoking then ever, actually standing on their heads with delight. There was no holding of Jack this morning. He came back from the river in the very mischief of a temper, and not meeting with the cat this time—for she found him coming back—he lifted the milk-tub that his mother had got a new bottom in since, and knocked it clean through the hall-door and the partition beyond, into the parlour where the King and the Queen were sitting at breakfast, scattering the table and the fine spread of pancakes and tea all over the room.
“Oh, Jack, Jack,” sez the King, sez he, coming rushing out—“Jack, Jack,” sez he; “calm yourself, calm yourself. You have frightened your poor mother out of a year’s growth, and spoiled her nice pancakes on her.”
“Oh, pancakes be rammed!” sez Jack.
“Jack, Jack,” sez the King, sez he; “what—what’s the matter this morning? Surely that old trout hasn’t been putting his tail to his nose this morning again? If he has,” sez he, “trust me but I’ll soon have him taught a trick worth two of that. He must be let know who’s master and who’s man here, and that he can’t treat the King’s son with disrespect.”
“Oh,” sez Jack, sez he, “I wish you’d just go down and look at thon bridge of yours this morning again, maybe ye’d find reason to understand then, that not the King’s son, but the King himself is treated with disrespect and contempt.”
“Jack,” sez the King, taken aback, “surely, Jack,” sez he, “ye don’t mean to insinuate that the bridge is down again?”
“Don’t I though?” sez Jack, with a sneer.
“Well,” sez the King, shaking his head, and looking at the ground—“well,” sez he, “that flogs the divil.”
“I’ll tell you what it is,” sez Jack. “You put up the bridge once more, and leave the rest of it to me; if it comes down again I’ll be able to give an account of myself, and I’ll make some devil dance to a tune he didn’t call for.”
“The third time’s the charm,” sez the King; “and the third time it will go up, Jack. Then I’ll leave the rest of it to you.”
So, up it went the third time, and that night Jack determined to sit up and watch the bridge. All went well till about close on midnight, when, Jack being nodding asleep on the bridge, he found it shaking. Up he jumps, and down he runs under the bridge to see what was wrong with it, or who was shaking it, and there, och, och! he beheld the greatest giant he ever saw in his life afore.
“Who are you?” sez the Giant, ready to devore Jack.
“I am the King’s son, Jack,” sez Jack, sez he.
“Well,” sez the Giant, “all rights to this river belong to me, and the King should not have built a bridge over it. By right,” sez he, “I should take your life now; but I see,” sez he, “you’re a smart, clean, active-looking boy, and would be sarviceable to me; and as I never yet took unfair advantage of an enemy, it’s not worth my while commencing on you,” sez the Giant, sez he, “so I’ll give you a chance for your life,” sez he. Here’s a pack of cards, now,“ sez he, producing a pack, ”and I’ll play you a fair game. If you win, you’ll get your life, and I’ll let the bridge remain, but if I win I’ll either take your life on the spot or put a condition on you. Do you agree to that?“
“Done,” sez Jack, for he thought to himself it would be all the one anyhow, whether he agreed to it or not.
“What game will it be?” sez the Giant.
“Short, and be done with it; we’ll make it twenty-five,” sez Jack.
“All right,” sez the Giant, “cut for deal.”
Jack cut and won the deal. He shuffled and dealt them, turned a five and won three tricks.
“That’s sharp for me, Jack,” says the Giant, as he shuffled.
Jack got a slashing hand again. Spades was trumps, and Jack led with the ace, but the big fellow covered with the ace of hearts, raised again with the fingers of trumps, and followed up with the knave, a twinkle in his eye all the time.
Jack threw down his cards.
“Ha, ha! Jack,” says the Giant, “too able for ye? Eh? No odds though,” sez he; “you’re not a bad hand at the flats, and have a deal of spunk in you, so I’ll give ye a chance for your life yet.”
“What’s that?” sez Jack.
“It’s this,” says the Giant. “Within a year and a day from this you’re to find out my castle, where I live when I’m at home: but if you’re not able to find it, then I’ll have your life, toss this bridge, and leave the highest stone in your father’s castle the lowest.”
“And who are you?” sez Jack,
Sez the Giant,—
“I’m the Giant of Band-beggars’ Hall,
The greatest Giant over them all.“
“I have never heard of your castle,” sez Jack.
“Nor I hope never will,” sez the Giant.
“Well, that’s to be seen,” says Jack.
So the Giant and he parted, and Jack went home—for it was now morning—and told the King and Queen all that had happened. They were greatly vexed entirely, and cursed it for a misfortunate bridge, and tried to persuade Jack to remain at home and not go away on such a wild-goose chase, to the Lord knows where, looking for
“The Giant of the Band-beggars’ Hall,
The greatest Giant over them all.“
But Jack wasn’t to be persuaded, and whether or why, he would go, and never rest till he would find him out, or else lose his life. So he spit on his stick, and, taking his father’s and mother’s blessing, started off that very day. And Jack travelled afore him for months, without ever once stopping, or eating a bite, or sleeping a wink; and at nightfall one day, he came to a great castle on a lonely moor in the Easthern World, and he went in and saw a Giant sitting by the fire. When Jack came in, the Giant got up, and sez he,—
“You’re very welcome, Jack, the King of Ireland’s son, for I haven’t seen the face of a Christian for the last three hundred years.”
Jack wondered how he knew his name, but he didn’t say anything. The Giant then put Jack sitting by a roaring fire, and taking a knife he cut down the quarter of a rat that was hung in the smoke of the chimney and roasted it on the coals, and himself and Jack made a hearty supper of it, and then each of them slept on a harrow with a goatskin under them and another over them, and Jack slept hearty and well, for he was very tired entirely. Next morning he rose as fresh as a butterfly, and after breakfasting on another quarter of the rat, sez the Giant, sez he,—
“I didn’t ask you, Jack—where were you going?”
“No more you might,” sez Jack; “I might tell you where I’m coming from, but where I’m going is more than I knows.”
So Jack starts and he tells him the whole story about him and the Giant of the Band-beggars’ Hall. And then he asked him if he could give him any tidings of where he lived?
- Предыдущая
- 24/26
- Следующая
