The Bunsby Papers (second series): Irish Echoes

  CHAPTER VII.

  MORNING THOUGHTS.

  The early grey of dawn peeped furtively through the shutters of TomBobolink's home, and as they strengthened and strengthened, fell upon afigure which could scarcely be recognized as the same joyous-heartedindividual of the day before. On the floor lay Tom; the candle, whichhad completely burned out in its socket, close to his head; one handgrasped the empty bottle, and the other was tightly clutched within hisbreast.

  And now another scarcely less sorrowful-looking figure is added. Pollygazes, with tearful eyes, upon the prostrate form. He is evidently inthe maze of some terrible dream, for his head rolls fearfully about,his limbs are convulsed, and his breathing is thick and heavy.

  Polly stooped down to awake him gently, when, at the slightest touch,he started at one bound to his feet, muttering incoherent words ofterror and apprehension; his eyes rolled about wildly. He seized Polly,and held her at arms' length for an instant, until he fairly realizedhis actual situation, when he burst into a loud laugh, that chilled hispoor wife's very blood.

  "Ha! ha! Pol, is that you?" he cried, wildly. "I've been a bad boy, Iknow; but I'll make up for it gloriously, my girl. Ugh! what a dreamI've had. Ah! the darkness is a terrible time to get over when one'sconscience is filling the black night with fiery eyes." Then, turningto his wife, he said, loudly: "Polly, darling, I'm ashamed of myself;but it will be all right by and by. You were cut out for a rich woman,Pol."

  "Dear Thomas, let me be rich in the happiness of our humble home; 'tisall I ask."

  "Oh, nonsense! Suppose now you got a heap of money a prize in thelottery, wouldn't you like to elevate your little nose, and jostleagainst the big bugs in Broadway?"

  "Not at the price of our comfort, Thomas," she answered, solemnly.

  "You're a fool! Money can buy all sorts of comfort."

  "What do you mean, Thomas, by those hints about money? has anythinghappened?"

  "Oh! no--no!" he replied, quickly, turning his eyes away; "but there'sno knowing when something might. Now I'll try her," thought he. "It'smy dream, Pol. Shall I tell it to you?"

  "Do, my dear Tom. Oh! I'm so glad to see you yourself once more."

  "Well, dear," he continued, sitting close to her, and placing his armaround her waist, "I dreamed that as I was returning from a job, whatshould I see in the street, under my very nose, but a pocket-book,stuffed full of money. Presently the owner came along. He asked me if Ihad found it. I said no, and came home a rich man--oh! so rich!"

  "I know your heart too well, Tom, to believe that such a thing couldhappen except in a dream," said his wife, to his great annoyance. Hestarted up, and after one or two turns about the little, now untidy,room, exclaimed, angrily:

  "Why not? I should like to know if fortune did--I mean--was, to flingluck in my way, do you think I'd be such a cursed fool as not to grabat it?"

  "Thomas, you have been drinking too much," said she, sadly.

  "No, no," he interrupted, "not enough; give me some more."

  "Not a drop, husband," she replied, seriously, and with determination."If you will poison yourself it shall not be through my hand."

  "Don't be a fool," he cried, savagely, "or it may be the worse for you.I'm master of my own house, I think."

  "Home! ah, Thomas, some evil spirit has stolen away our once happy homefor ever," said Polly, as she slowly and sorrowfully returned again toweep in the silence of her own room.

  "There has, there has," cried Tom, as she quitted him. "And this isit"--pulling out the pocket-book, which he had not left hold of for aninstant, and frowning desperately at it--"Confound your skin, it's youthat has stolen away our comfort. I'll take the cursed thing back; Iwouldn't have Polly's eyes wet with sorrow to be made of money--I'lltake it back this very blessed morning; and somehow that thought bringsa ray of sunlight back to my heart." So saying, he thrust thepocket-book, as he thought, safely within his vest, but in hiseagerness to take extra care of it, it slipped through, and droppedupon the floor; his mind being taken off for a moment by the entranceof Bryan, to tell him that the horse and truck were ready.

  "Very well, I'm glad of it," cried Tom. "Now I'll see what the fine,bracing, morning air will do for this cracked head of mine; now then,to take this back," and he slapped his chest, under the full impressionthat the pocket-book was there. "Bryan, I don't want you for half anhour; just wait till I come back, will you?"

  "That I will, sir, and welcome," said Bryan, and with a merry song oncemore at his lip, and a cheerful good-bye to Polly, to whose heart bothbrought comfort in her great sadness, Bobolink mounted his truck, andtrotted off.

  Meantime Bryan, now left alone in the room, dived into the recesses ofhis capacious coat-pocket, and producing from thence a piece of breadand cheese, moralized the while upon the pleasant change in hisprospects.

  "Long life to this tindher-hearted couple," said he. "Shure an' I'm onthe high road to good luck at last; plenty of the best in the way ofatin', and an elegant stable to sleep in, with a Christian-likequadruped for company; av I had only now a trifle o' money to getmyself some clothes--these things doesn't look well in this part of theworld," casting his eyes down in not over-delighted contemplation ofhis nether integuments. "A little bit o' money now would make me sohappy an' industrious, I could take the buzz out of a hive o' bees. Thesaints between us and all mischief, what's that?" he continued,starting to his feet, as his glance fell upon the pocket-book which Tomhad dropped. "It serves me right," he went on, his face suddenlybecoming pale as paper, "to wish for any such thing. I don't wantit--it was all a mistake," cried he, apologetically. "This is thedevil's work; no sooner do I let a word out o' me mouth, that I didn'tmane at all at all, but the evil blaggard sticks a swadge of temptationright before me. I won't have it--take it away."

  At that instant Polly returned into the room. "Take care how youcome--don't walk this way," said Bryan. "Look!"

  "What is it?" cried Polly, in alarm.

  "Timptation!" shouted Bryan. "I was foolish enough just now to wish fora trifle of money, and may I niver see glory if that lump of apocket-book didn't sprout up before me very eyes."

  "Pocket-book, eh?" cried Polly, seizing it in her hands, despite of thecomic apprehension of Bryan, who insisted that it would burn herfingers. The whole truth flashed across her mind at once. Tom's dreamwas no dream, but a reality, and the struggle in his mind whether tokeep or return it, had caused that sleepless and uncomfortable night."Bryan," said she, quickly, "did you hear any one say that they hadlost any money yesterday?"

  "Let me see," replied the other. "Yes, to be sure, 44 came out of thehall-door, and axed me if I saw a pocket-book."

  "It must be his. Thank God for this merciful dispensation," cried theagitated wife. "Quick, quick, my bonnet and shawl, and come you, Bryan,you know the place; this money must be that which was lost."

  "I'm wid you, ma'am," answered Bryan. "Who knows but that may be theidentical pocket-book; at any rate it'll do as well if there's as muchmoney in it, and if there isn't, there'll be another crop before wecome back."