THE BLARNEY STONE.

  Oh, did you ne'er hear of the Blarney, 'Tis found near the banks of Killarney, Believe it from me, no girl's heart is free, Once she hears the sweet sound of the Blarney.

  LOVER.

  "I tell you, Mike, agra! it's no manner o' use, for do it I can't, an'that's the long an' the short of it."

  "Listen at him, why it isn't bashful that you are, eh, Ned, avic?"

  "Faix, an' I'm afeard it is."

  "_Gog's bleakey!_ why, they'll put you in the musayum along widthe marmaids an' the rattlin' sneaks; a bashful Irishman! why, afour-leaved shamrogue 'ud be a mutton-chop to that, man alive."

  "So they say; but I've cotch the complaint anyway."

  "Well, _tear an aigers_, I never heerd the likes; it makes me mightyunhappy, for if modesty gets a footin' among us it'll be the ruin of usaltogether. I shouldn't wonder but some of them retirin' cockneys hasinoculated us with the affection, as they thravelled through thecountry. Well, an' tell us, how d'you feel whin you're blushin' Ned?"

  "Arrah! now don't be laughin' at me, Mike; sure we can't help ourwakeness--it's only before her that the heart of me melts awayintirely."

  "Never mind, avic; shure it's a good man's case anyway; an' so purtyNelly has put the _comether_ over your sinsibilities?"

  "You may say that, Mike, _aroon_. The niver a bit of sinse have I left,if it's a thing that I iver happened to have any; an' now, Mike,without jokin', isn't it mighty quare that I can't get the cowardlytongue to wag a word out o' my head when her eye is upon me--did youiver see Nelly's eye, Mike?"

  "Scores o' times."

  "May-be that isn't an eye?"

  "May-be there isn't a pair of thim, since you come to that?"

  "The divil such wicked-lookin' innocince iver peeped out of the head ofa Christian afore, to my thinkin'."

  "It's nothin' but right that you should think so, Ned."

  "Oh, Mike! to me, the laugh that bames out of thim, whin she's happy,is as good to a boy's feelin's as the softest sun-ray that iver madethe world smile; but whin she's sad--oh, murdher, murdher! Mike--whinthem wathery dimonds flutthers about her silky eye-lashes, or hangsupon her downy cheek, like jew upon a rose-lafe, who the divil couldendure it? Bedad, it's as much as I can do to stand up agin them merryglances; but when her eye takes to the wather, be the powers of war, itbothers the navigation of my heart out an' out."

  "Thrue for you, Ned."

  "An' thin her mouth! Did you iver obsarve Nelly's mouth, Mike?"

  "At a distance, Ned."

  "Now, that's what I call a rale mouth, Mike; it doesn't look like some,only a place to ate with, but a soft-talkin', sweet-lovin' mouth, widthe kisses growin in clusthers about it that nobody dare have theimpudence to pluck off, eh! Mike?"

  "Howld your tongue, Ned."

  "If Nelly's heart isn't the very bed of love, why thin Cupid's ajackass, that's all. An' thin her teeth; did you notice thim teeth? whypearls is pavin'-stones to them; how they do flash about, as herbeautiful round red lips open to let out a voice that's just for allthe world like talkin' honey, every word she says slippin' into afellow's soul, whether he likes it or not. Oh! Mike, Mike, there's nouse in talkin', if she isn't an angel, why she ought to be, that'sall."

  "You're mighty far gone, Ned, an' that's a fact. It's wonderful what ajanius a boy has for talkin' nonsense when the soft emotions isstirrin' up his brains. Did you ever spake to her?"

  "How the divil could I? I was too busy listenin'; an' more betoken,between you an' me, the rale truth of the matter is, I couldn't do it.Whether it was bewitched I was, or that my sinses got dhrounded widdrinkin' in her charms, makin' a sort of a mouth of my eye, I don'tknow, but ev'ry time I attempted to say somethin', my tongue, bad luckto it, staggered about as if it was corned, an' the divil a word wouldit say for itself, bad or good."

  "Well, now, only to think. Let me give you a word of advice, Ned; thenext time you see her, take it aisy, put a big stone upon your feelin'san' ax about the weather; you see you want to bowlt out all you have tosay at once, an' your throat is too little to let it through."

  "_Be the mortial_, an' that's a good advice, Mike, if I can but follyit. This love is a mighty quare affection, ain't it?"

  "Thremendious. I had it oncet myself."

  "How did you ketch it?"

  "I didn't ketch it at all. I took it natural."

  "And did you ever get cured, Mike? Tell us."

  "Complately."

  "How?"

  "I got married."

  "Oh! let us go to work."

  * * * * *

  From the foregoing characteristic conversation between Mike Riley andhis friend, Ned Flynn, it would appear pretty evident that the blindboy's shaft,

  "Feathered with pleasure and tipped with pain,"

  was fast embedded in the heart of the latter, or in plainer and notless expressive phrase, he was bothered entirely by Miss Nelly Malone.

  During an interval of rest from mowing, the dialogue took place; thatover, they resumed their labor; the convalescent "married man" humminga sprightly air, which kept time to the stroke of his scythe, while thepoor wounded deer, Ned, came in now and then with an accompaniment ofstrictly orthodox sighs.

  It certainly was a most extensive smite on the part of pretty Nell; anda nobler heart never beat under crimson and gold, than the honest,manly one which now throbbed with the first ardor of a passion pure andunselfish. A short time longer, and they rested again. Ned was sad andsilent; and the never-forgotten respect, which makes suffering sacredin the eyes of an Irish peasant, kept Mike mute also; at last, Ned,with a half downcast, whole sheepish expression, said, the ghost of asmile creeping over his features:

  "Mike, do you know what?"

  "What?" said Mike.

  "I've writ a song about Nelly."

  "No," rejoined his friend, with that ambiguous emphasis which might aswell mean yes. Adding, with dexterous tact, "Is it a song? An' why themischief shouldn't you; sure an' haven't you as illigant a heart tofish songs up out as anybody else? Sing us it."

  "I'm afeard that you'll laugh if I do, Mike."

  "Is it me?" replied Mike, so reproachfully that Ned was completelysoftened. After the making-your-mind-up minute or two, with a fine,clear voice, he sung.

  THE ROSE OF TRALEE.

  All ye sportin' young heroes, wid hearts light an' free, Take care how you come near the town of Tralee; For the witch of all witches that iver wove spell In the town of Tralee, at this moment does dwell. Oh, then, don't venture near her, be warned by me, For the divil all out is the Rose of Tralee.

  She's as soft an' as bright as a young summer morn, Her breath's like the breeze from the fresh blossom'd thorn, Her cheek has the sea shell's pale delicate hue, And her lips are like rose leaves just bathed in the dew; So, then, don't venture near her, be warned by me, For she's mighty desthructive, this Rose of Tralee.

  Oh! her eyes of dark blue, they so heavenly are Like the night sky of summer, an' each holds a star; Were her tongue mute as silence, man's _life_ they'd control; But eyes an' tongue both are too much for one's _soul_. Young men, stay at home, then, and leave her to me, For I'd die with delight for the Rose of Tralee.

  And now, after this toploftical illustration of the state of Ned'sfeelings, and inasmuch as they are about to resume their labor, let usleave them to their mowing, and see after Miss Nelly Malone, for loveof whom poor Ned had _tasted_ of the Pierian spring.

  In a neat little chamber, bearing about it the unmistakable evidence ofa tidy woman's care, sits the individual herself, her little fingersbusily employed in knitting a very small stocking--her own; no trace ofwealth is to be seen in this humble abode, but of its more thanequivalent, comfort, it is redolent. At the open casement there peep inthe blossoms of the honey-suckle and the sweet-pea, filling the airwith a perfume, more grateful than art could ever obtain; sundry_artless_ pri
nts, and here and there a ballad on some heart-breakingsubject, probably amongst them the highwayman's autoballadography,wherein he heroically observes,

  "I robbed Lord Mansfield, I do declare, And Lady Somebody in Grosvenor Square,"

  are fastened to the walls, decorated with festoons of cut paper of mostdazzling variety of color; a fine, plump, contented lark, in an opencage, which he scorns to leave, returns his mistress's caress with awild, grateful song, whilst, tutored into friendliness, a beautifulsleek puss, whose furry coat glances like satin in the sun-ray, dozesquietly upon the window-sill, indulging in that low purr, which is thesure indication of a happy cat. It is the home of innocence and beauty,fitly tenanted.

  And what are pretty Nelly's thoughts, I wonder; a shade of something,which may be anxiety or doubt, but scarcely sorrow, softens thebrightness of her lovely face. She speaks, 'twill be no treason tolisten. You will perceive that the cat is her _confidante_--a discreetone it must be confessed.

  "It's foolishness, so it is; isn't it puss?"

  Puss doesn't condescend to notice the remark.

  "Now, Minny, isn't it, I ask you, isn't it folly, the worst of folly tobe thinkin' of one who doesn't think of me? I won't do it any more,that I won't. Heigh 'ho! I wonder if he loves me. I somehow fancy hedoes, and yet again if he did, why couldn't he say so; there's onething certain, and that is, I don't love _him_, that is to say, I_won't_ love him; a pretty thing, indeed, to give my heart to one whowouldn't give me his in return. That _would_ be a bad bargain, wouldn'tit, puss?"

  Pussy acquiesced, for silence, they say, is synonymous.

  "But, oh!" resumed Nelly, "if I thought he _did_ love me--there, now,I've dropped a stitch--what _am_ I thinkin' of?--I mustn't give way tosuch foolishness. Why, the bird is done singin', and Minny is lookingangry at me out of her big eyes--don't be jealous, puss, you shallalways have your saucer of milk, whatever happens, and--hark! that'shis step, it is! he's comin'! I wonder how I look," and running to herlittle glass, Nelly, with very pardonable vanity, thought thosefeatures could not well be improved, and--the most curious part of thematter--she was right.

  "He's a long time coming," thought she, as, stealing a glance throughthe white window-curtain she saw Ned slowly approach the garden gate;gladly would she have flown to meet him, but maidenly modestyrestrained her; now he hesitates a moment, takes a full gulp of breath,and nears the house; at every approaching step, Nelly's pulse beathigher; at last she bethought herself it would be more prudent to beemployed; so, hastily taking up her work, which was twisted andravelled into inextricable confusion, with a seeming calm face shemechanically plied her needles, her heart giving one little shiver asNed rapped a small, chicken-livered rap at the door. Nelly opened itwith a most disingenuous, "Ah! Ned, is that you? who _would_ havethought it! Come in, do."

  The thermometer of Nelly's feelings was about fever heat, yet sheforced the index to remain at freezing point. "Take a chair, won'tyou?"

  And there sat those two beings, whose hearts yearned for each other,looking as frigid as a pair of icicles, gazing on the wall, the floor,pussy, or the lark. Ned suddenly discovered something that wanted adeal of attending to in the band of his hat; whilst Nelly, at the sametime, evinced an extraordinary degree of affection for the cat. To saythe truth, they were both very far from comfortable. Ned had thoroughlymade up his mind to speak this time if ruin followed, and had even goneso far as to have settled upon his opening speech, but Nelly's cold andindifferent "take a chair," frightened every word out of his head; itwas essentially necessary that he should try to recover himself, and heseemed to think that twisting his hat into every possible form andtugging at the band were the only possible means by which it could beaccomplished. Once more all was arranged, and he had just cleared histhroat to begin, when the rascally cat turned sharply round and staredhim straight in the face, and in all his life he thought he never sawthe countenance of a dumb creature express such thorough contempt.

  "It well becomes me," thought he, "to be demeanin' myself before thecat," and away flew his thoughts again.

  Of course, all this was very perplexing to Nelly, who, in theexpectation of hearing something interesting, remained patientlysilent. There was another considerable pause; at last, remembering hisfriend Mike's advice, and, moreover, cheered by a most encouragingsmile from the rapidly-thawing Nell, Ned wound up his feelings for onedesperate effort, and bolted out--

  "Isn't it fine to day, Miss Malone?"

  Breaking the silence so suddenly that Nelly started from her chair, thelark fluttered in the cage, and puss made one jump bang into thegarden.

  Amazed and terrified by the results of his first essay, fast to theroof of his mouth Ned's tongue stuck once more, and finding it of noearthly use trying to overcome his embarrassment--that the more hefloundered about the deeper he got into the mud, he gathered himselfup, made one dash through the door, and was off like lightning. Nellysighed as she resumed her knitting, and this time she was sad inearnest.

  "Well, what luck?" said Mike, as, nearly out of breath from running,Ned rejoined him in the meadow. "Have you broke the ice?"

  "Bedad, I have," said Ned, "and more betoken, fell into the watherthrough the hole."

  "Why, wouldn't she listen to you?"

  "Yes, fast enough, but I didn't give her a chance; my ould complaintcame strong upon me. Ora! what's the use in havin' a tongue at all, ifit won't wag the words out of a fellow's head. I'm a purty speciment ofan omad-haun; there she sot, Mike, lookin' out of the corners of hereyes at me, as much as to say, spake out like a man, with a soft smilerunnin' about all over her face, and playing among her beautifuldimples, like the merry moonbame dancin' on the lake. Oh, murther!Mike, what the mischief am I to do? I can't live without her, an' Ihaven't the heart to tell her so."

  "Well, it is disgraceful," replied Mike, "to see a good-lookin' mandisparage his country by flinchin from a purty girl; may-be it might doyou good to go an' kiss the BLARNEY STONE."

  "That's it," exclaimed Ned, joyously clapping his hands together, andcutting an instinctive caper, "that's it. I wonder I niver thought ofit before; I'll walk every stitch of the way, though my legs shoulddrop off before I got half there. Do you think it 'ud do me good tokiss it?"

  "Divil a doubt of it--sure it never was known to fail yet," said Mike,oracularly.

  "Why, then, may I niver ate a male's vittles, if there's any vartue inthe stone, if I don't have it out of it." And that very night, so eagerwas Ned to get cured of his bashfulness, off he started for Killarney.It was a long and tedious journey, but the thought of being able tospeak to Nelly when he returned, was sufficient to drive away fatigue;in due time he reached the far-famed castle,

  "On the top of whose wall, But take care you don't fall, There's a stone that contains all the Blarney!"

  Mike climbed with caution, discovered the identical spot, and believingimplicitly that his troubles were now at an end, knelt, and with aheart-whole prayer for his absent Nelly, reverently kissed _TheBlarney Stone_.

  True, devoted love had lent him strength to overcome the difficultiesof access, and imagination, that powerful director of circumstance, didthe rest. It was with humility and diffidence he had approached theobject of his pilgrimage, but he descended from it with head erect andcountenance elated; he could now tell his burning thoughts in _her_ear; he was a changed man; a very pretty girl, who officiated as guide,and upon whose pouting lips, report says, the efficacy of the charmhas been frequently put to the test, met him at the archway of thecastle--for no other reason in the world than merely to try if he weresufficiently imbued with the attractive principle--Ned watched anopportunity, and, much more to his own astonishment than to hers, gaveher a hearty kiss, starting back to watch the effect. She frowned not,she did not even blush. Ned was delighted; his end was obtained.

  "He could kiss who he plazed with his Blarney;" consequently, feelingsupremely happy, without losing another moment, he retraced his stepshomeward.

  Meantime,
Nelly missed her silent swain, whose absence tendedmaterially to strengthen the feeling of affection which she entertainedfor him; day after day crept on, yet he came not; and each long hour ofwatching riveted still more closely her heart's fetters. Now, for thefirst time, she acknowledged to herself how essential he was to herhappiness, and with a fervent prayer that the coming morning mightbring him to her side, she closed each day. Her wonder at last at hiscontinued absence quickened into anxiety, and from anxiety into alarm.Jealousy, without which there cannot be a perfect love, spread its darkshadow o'er her soul, and she was wretched. In vain she reasoned withherself; the sun of her existence seemed suddenly to be withdrawn, andall was gloom; even the very bird, appearing to share his mistress'smood, drooped his wing and was silent; so much are externals influencedby the spirit of the hour, that her homey chamber felt comfortless andsolitary. Nelly loved with a woman's love, devotedly, intensely,wholly; to lose him would be to her the loss of all that rendered lifeworth living for; hers was an affection deserving that which was givenin lieu, although as yet she knew it not.

  Gazing out one day in the faint hope of seeing something of herbeloved, her heart gave one sudden and tremendous bound. She sawhim--he had returned at last. But how changed in demeanor. Can her eyesdeceive her? No. Her heart tells her it is he, and it could not err.

  Instead of the downcast look and hesitating step, joy laughed forthfrom his face, and his tread was easy, rollicking, and careless; as hecame nearer, she thought she heard him sing; he did sing! what could itportend? Had he found one who knew how to break the shell of reserve?'Twas torture to think so, and yet it was the first image thatpresented itself to her anxious heart. It was now her turn to betongue-tied, dumb from agitation; she could not utter a syllable, buttrembling to the very core, sat silently awaiting what she feared wasto prove the funeral knell of her departed happiness.

  With a merry song upon his lips, Ned lightly bounded over the littlepaling, and in a minute more was in her presence. Speak or move shecould not, nor did his first salutation place her more at ease.

  "Nelly," said he, "you drove me to it, but it's done! it's done!"

  "What's done--what can he mean?" thought Nelly, more agitated thanever.

  "It's all over now," he continued, "for I've kissed it. Don't you hearme, Nelly? I say I've kissed it."

  "In heaven's name," cried the pale, trembling girl, "what do youmean--kissed who?"

  "No _who_ at all," said Ned, laughingly, "but _it_, I've kissed _it_."

  "Kissed what?"

  "Why, the Blarney Stone, to be sure," screamed out Ned, flinging hishat at pussy, and executing an extremely complicated double-shuffle inthe delight of the moment; indeed, conducting himself altogether in amanner which would have jeopardized the sanity of any one but alove-stricken Irishman.

  "Sure it was all for you, Nelly, mavourneen, that I did it; it hasloosened the strings of my tongue, and now I can tell you how deeplyyour image is burnin' within my very heart of hearts, you bright-eyed,beautiful darling!"

  What more he said or did, it will be unnecessary for me to relate;suffice it to say that the world-renowned talisman lost none of itsefficacy on this particular occasion. One observation of pretty Nell's,I think is worthy of record. At the close of a most uninterestingconversation, to anybody but themselves, the affectionate girlwhispered to him:

  "_Dear Ned, you needn't have gone so far!_"

  The course of true love sometimes _does_ run smooth, a great authorityto the contrary, nevertheless, for in about three weeks' time, thechapel bells rang merrily for the wedding of Edward and Nelly. Aye, andwhat's more, neither of them had ever cause to regret Ned's visit toTHE BLARNEY STONE.