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Owney And Owney-na-peak






Category: CATS

Source: Irish Fairy Tales

BY GERALD GRIFFEN


When Ireland had kings of her own--when there was no such thing as a
coat made of red cloth in the country--when there was plenty in men's
houses, and peace and quietness at men's doors (and that is a long
time since)--there lived, in a village not far from the great city of
Lumneach,[7] two young men, cousins: one of them named Owney, a smart,
kind-hearted, handsome youth, with limb of a delicate form, and a very
good understanding. His cousin's name was Owney too, and the
neighbours christened him Owney-na-peak (Owney of the nose), on
account of a long nose he had got--a thing so out of all proportion,
that after looking at one side of his face, it was a smart morning's
walk to get round the nose and take a view of the other (at least, so
the people used to say). He was a stout, able-bodied fellow, as stupid
as a beaten hound, and he was, moreover, a cruel tyrant to his young
cousin, with whom he lived in a kind of partnership.

[Footnote 7: The present Limerick.]

Both of them were of a humble station. They were
smiths--white-smiths--and they got a good deal of business to do from
the lords of the court, and the knights, and all the grand people of
the city. But one day young Owney was in town, he saw a great
procession of lords, and ladies, and generals, and great people, among
whom was the king's daughter of the court--and surely it is not
possible for the young rose itself to be so beautiful as she was. His
heart fainted at her sight, and he went home desperately in love, and
not at all disposed to business.

Money, he was told, was the surest way of getting acquainted with the
king, and so he began saving until he had put together a few
hogs,[8] but Owney-na-peak, finding where he had hid them, seized on
the whole, as he used to do on all young Owney's earnings.

[Footnote 8: A hog, 1s. 1d.]

One evening young Owney's mother found herself about to die, so she
called her son to her bedside and said to him: 'You have been a most
dutiful good son, and 'tis proper you should be rewarded for it. Take
this china cup to the fair,--there is a fairy gift upon it,--use your
own wit, look about you, and let the highest bidder have it--and so,
my white-headed boy,[9] God bless you!'

[Footnote 9: White-haired boy, a curious Irish phrase for the
favourite child.]

The young man drew the little bedcurtain down over his dead mother,
and in a few days after, with a heavy heart, he took his china cup,
and set off to the fair of Garryowen.

The place was merry enough. The field that is called Gallows Green now
was covered with tents. There was plenty of wine (poteen not being
known in these days, let alone parliament), a great many handsome
girls, and 'tis unknown all the keoh that was with the boys and
themselves. Poor Owney walked all the day through the fair, wishing to
try his luck, but ashamed to offer his china cup among all the fine
things that were there for sale. Evening was drawing on at last, and
he was thinking of going home, when a strange man tapped him on the
shoulder, and said: 'My good youth, I have been marking you through
the fair the whole day, going about with that cup in your hand,
speaking to nobody, and looking as if you would be wanting something
or another.'

'I'm for selling it,' said Owney.

'What is it you're for selling, you say?' said a second man, coming
up, and looking at the cup.

'Why then,' said the first man, 'and what's that to you, for a prying
meddler? what do you want to know what it is he's for selling?'

'Bad manners to you (and where's the use of my wishing you what you
have already?), haven't I a right to ask the price of what's in the
fair?'

'E'then, the knowledge o' the price is all you'll have for it,' says
the first. 'Here, my lad, is a golden piece for your cup.'

'That cup shall never hold drink or diet in your house, please
Heaven,' says the second; 'here's two gold pieces for the cup, lad.'

'Why then, see this now--if I was forced to fill it to the rim with
gold before I could call it mine, you shall never hold that cup
between your fingers. Here, boy, do you mind me, give me that, once
for all, and here's ten gold pieces for it, and say no more.'

'Ten gold pieces for a china cup!' said a great lord of the court, who
just rode up at that minute, 'it must surely be a valuable article.
Here, boy, here are twenty pieces for it, and give it to my servant.'

'Give it to mine,' cried another lord of the party, 'and here's my
purse, where you will find ten more. And if any man offers another
fraction for it to outbid that, I'll spit him on my sword like a
snipe.'

'I outbid him,' said a fair young lady in a veil, by his side,
flinging twenty golden pieces more on the ground.

There was no voice to outbid the lady, and young Owney, kneeling, gave
the cup into her hands.

'Fifty gold pieces for a china cup,' said Owney to himself, as he
plodded on home, 'that was not worth two! Ah! mother, you knew that
vanity had an open hand.'

But as he drew near home he determined to hide his money somewhere,
knowing, as he well did, that his cousin would not leave him a single
cross to bless himself with. So he dug a little pit, and buried all
but two pieces, which he brought to the house. His cousin, knowing the
business on which he had gone, laughed heartily when he saw him enter,
and asked him what luck he had got with his punch-bowl.

'Not so bad, neither,' says Owney. 'Two pieces of gold is not a bad
price for an article of old china.'

'Two gold pieces, Owney, honey! Erra, let us see 'em, maybe you
would?' He took the cash from Owney's hand, and after opening his eyes
in great astonishment at the sight of so much money, he put them into
his pocket.

'Well, Owney, I'll keep them safe for you, in my pocket within. But
tell us, maybe you would, how come you to get such a mort o' money
for an old cup o' painted chaney, that wasn't worth, maybe, a fi'penny
bit?'

'To get into the heart o' the fair, then, free and easy, and to look
about me, and to cry old china, and the first man that come up, he
to ask me, what is it I'd be asking for the cup, and I to say out
bold: "A hundred pieces of gold," and he to laugh hearty, and we to
huxter together till he beat me down to two, and there's the whole way
of it all.'

Owney-na-peak made as if he took no note of this, but next morning
early he took an old china saucer himself had in his cupboard, and off
he set, without saying a word to anybody, to the fair. You may easily
imagine that it created no small surprise in the place when they heard
a great big fellow with a china saucer in his hand crying out: 'A raal
chaney saucer going for a hundred pieces of goold! raal
chaney--who'll be buying?'

'Erra, what's that you're saying, you great gomeril?' says a man,
coming up to him, and looking first at the saucer and then in his
face. 'Is it thinking anybody would go make a muthaun of himself to
give the like for that saucer?' But Owney-na-peak had no answer to
make, only to cry out: 'Raal chaney! one hundred pieces of goold!'

A crowd soon collected about him, and finding he would give no account
of himself, they all fell upon him, beat him within an inch of his
life, and after having satisfied themselves upon him, they went their
way laughing and shouting. Towards sunset he got up, and crawled home
as well as he could, without cup or money. As soon as Owney saw him,
he helped him into the forge, looking very mournful, although, if the
truth must be told, it was to revenge himself for former good deeds of
his cousin that he set him about this foolish business.

'Come here, Owney, eroo,' said his cousin, after he had fastened the
forge door and heated two irons in the fire. 'You child of mischief!'
said he, when he had caught him, 'you shall never see the fruits of
your roguery again, for I will put out your eyes.' And so saying he
snatched one of the red-hot irons from the fire.

It was all in vain for poor Owney to throw himself on his knees, and
ask mercy, and beg and implore forgiveness; he was weak, and
Owney-na-peak was strong; he held him fast, and burned out both his
eyes. Then taking him, while he was yet fainting from the pain, upon
his back, he carried him off to the bleak hill of Knockpatrick,[10] a
great distance, and there laid him under a tombstone, and went his
ways. In a little time after, Owney came to himself.

[Footnote 10: A hill in the west of the County of Limerick, on the
summit of which are the ruins of an old church, with a burying-ground
still in use. The situation is exceedingly singular and bleak.]

'O sweet light of day! what is to become of me now?' thought the poor
lad, as he lay on his back under the tomb. 'Is this to be the fruit of
that unhappy present? Must I be dark for ever and ever? and am I never
more to look upon that sweet countenance, that even in my blindness is
not entirely shut out from me?' He would have said a great deal more
in this way, and perhaps more pathetic still, but just then he heard a
great mewing, as if all the cats in the world were coming up the hill
together in one faction. He gathered himself up, and drew back under
the stone, and remained quite still, expecting what would come next.
In a very short time he heard all the cats purring and mewing about
the yard, whisking over the tombstones, and playing all sorts of
pranks among the graves. He felt the tails of one or two brush his
nose; and well for him it was that they did not discover him there,
as he afterwards found. At last--

'Silence!' said one of the cats, and they were all as mute as so many
mice in an instant. 'Now, all you cats of this great county, small and
large, gray, red, yellow, black, brown, mottled, and white, attend to
what I'm going to tell you in the name of your king and the master of
all the cats. The sun is down, and the moon is up, and the night is
silent, and no mortal hears us, and I may tell you a secret. You know
the king of Munster's daughter?'

'O yes, to be sure, and why wouldn't we? Go on with your story,' said
all the cats together.

'I have heard of her for one,' said a little dirty-faced black cat,
speaking after they had all done, 'for I'm the cat that sits upon the
hob of Owney and Owney-na-peak, the white-smiths, and I know many's
the time young Owney does be talking of her, when he sits by the fire
alone, rubbing me down and planning how he can get into her father's
court.'

'Whist, you natural!' says the cat that was making the speech, 'what
do you think we care for your Owney, or Owney-na-peak?'

'Murther, murther!' thinks Owney to himself, 'did anybody ever hear
the aiqual of this?'

'Well, gentlemen,' says the cat again, 'what I have to say is this.
The king was last week struck with blindness, and you all know well,
how and by what means any blindness may be cured. You know there is no
disorder that can ail mortal frame, that may not be removed by praying
a round at the well of Barrygowen[11] yonder, and the king's disorder
is such, that no other cure whatever can be had for it. Now, beware,
don't let the secret pass one o' yer lips, for there's a
great-grandson of Simon Magus, that is coming down to try his skill,
and he it is that must use the water and marry the princess, who is to
be given to any one so fortunate as to heal her father's eyes; and on
that day, gentlemen, we are all promised a feast of the fattest mice
that ever walked the ground.' This speech was wonderfully applauded by
all the cats, and presently after, the whole crew scampered off,
jumping, and mewing, and purring, down the hill.

[Footnote 11: The practice of praying rounds, with the view of healing
diseases, at Barrygowen well, in the County of Limerick, is still
continued, notwithstanding the exertions of the neighbouring Catholic
priesthood, which have diminished, but not abolished it.]

Owney, being sensible that they were all gone, came from his
hiding-place, and knowing the road to Barrygowen well, he set off, and
groped his way out, and shortly knew, by the rolling of the waves,[12]
coming in from the point of Foynes, that he was near the place. He
got to the well, and making a round like a good Christian, rubbed his
eyes with the well-water, and looking up, saw day dawning in the east.
Giving thanks, he jumped up on his feet, and you may say that
Owney-na-peak was much astonished on opening the door of the forge to
find him there, his eyes as well or better than ever, and his face as
merry as a dance.

[Footnote 12: Of the Shannon.]

'Well, cousin,' said Owney, smiling, 'you have done me the greatest
service that one man can do another; you put me in the way of getting
two pieces of gold,' said he, showing two he had taken from his
hiding-place. 'If you could only bear the pain of suffering me just to
put out your eyes, and lay you in the same place as you laid me, who
knows what luck you'd have?'

'No, there's no occasion for putting out eyes at all, but could not
you lay me, just as I am, to-night, in that place, and let me try my
own fortune, if it be a thing you tell thruth; and what else could
put the eyes in your head, after I burning them out with the irons?'

'You'll know all that in time,' says Owney, stopping him in his
speech, for just at that minute, casting his eye towards the hob, he
saw the cat sitting upon it, and looking very hard at him. So he made
a sign to Owney-na-peak to be silent, or talk of something else; at
which the cat turned away her eyes, and began washing her face, quite
simple, with her two paws, looking now and then sideways into Owney's
face, just like a Christian. By and by, when she had walked out of the
forge, he shut the door after her, and finished what he was going to
say, which made Owney-na-peak still more anxious than before to be
placed under the tombstone. Owney agreed to it very readily, and just
as they were done speaking, cast a glance towards the forge window,
where he saw the imp of a cat, just with her nose and one eye peeping
in through a broken pane. He said nothing, however, but prepared to
carry his cousin to the place; where, towards nightfall, he laid him
as he had been laid himself, snug under the tombstone, and went his
way down the hill, resting in Shanagolden that night, to see what
would come of it in the morning.

Owney-na-peak had not been more than two or three hours or so lying
down, when he heard the very same noises coming up the hill, that had
puzzled Owney the night before. Seeing the cats enter the churchyard,
he began to grow very uneasy, and strove to hide himself as well as he
could, which was tolerably well too, all being covered by the
tombstone excepting part of the nose, which was so long that he could
not get it to fit by any means. You may say to yourself, that he was
not a little surprised, when he saw the cats all assemble like a
congregation going to hear mass, some sitting, some walking about, and
asking one another after the kittens and the like, and more of them
stretching themselves upon the tombstones, and waiting the speech of
their commander.

Silence was proclaimed at length, and he spoke: 'Now all you cats of
this great county, small and large, gray, red, yellow, black, brown,
mottled, or white, attend--'

'Stay! stay!' said a little cat with a dirty face, that just then came
running into the yard. 'Be silent, for there are mortal ears listening
to what you say. I have run hard and fast to say that your words were
overheard last night. I am the cat that sits upon the hob of Owney and
Owney-na-peak, and I saw a bottle of the water of Barrygowen hanging
up over the chimbley this morning in their house.'

In an instant all the cats began screaming, and mewing, and flying, as
if they were mad, about the yard, searching every corner, and peeping
under every tombstone. Poor Owneyna-peak endeavoured as well as he
could to hide himself from them, and began to thump his breast and
cross himself, but it was all in vain, for one of the cats saw the
long nose peeping from under the stone, and in a minute they dragged
him, roaring and bawling, into the very middle of the churchyard,
where they flew upon him all together, and made smithereens of him,
from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet.

The next morning very early, young Owney came to the churchyard, to
see what had become of his cousin. He called over and over again upon
his name, but there was no answer given. At last, entering the place
of tombs, he found his limbs scattered over the earth.

'So that is the way with you, is it?' said he, clasping his hands, and
looking down on the bloody fragments; 'why then, though you were no
great things in the way of kindness to me when your bones were
together, that isn't the reason why I'd be glad to see them torn
asunder this morning early.' So gathering up all the pieces that he
could find, he put them into a bag he had with him, and away with him
to the well of Barrygowen, where he lost no time in making a round,
and throwing them in, all in a heap. In an instant, he saw
Owney-na-peak as well as ever, scrambling out of the well, and helping
him to get up, he asked him how he felt himself.

'Oh! is it how I'd feel myself you'd want to know?' said the other;
'easy and I'll tell you. Take that for a specimen!' giving him at the
same time a blow on the head, which you may say wasn't long in laying
Owney sprawling on the ground. Then without giving him a minute's time
to recover, he thrust him into the very bag from which he had been
just shaken himself, resolving within himself to drown him in the
Shannon at once, and put an end to him for ever.

Growing weary by the way, he stopped at a shebeen house over-right
Robertstown Castle, to refresh himself with a morning, before he'd
go any farther. Poor Owney did not know what to do when he came to
himself, if it might be rightly called coming to himself, and the
great bag tied up about him. His wicked cousin shot him down behind
the door in the kitchen, and telling him he'd have his life surely if
he stirred, he walked in to take something that's good in the little
parlour.

Owney could not for the life of him avoid cutting a hole in the bag,
to have a peep about the kitchen, and see whether he had no means of
escape. He could see only one person, a simple-looking man, who was
counting his beads in the chimney-corner, and now and then striking
his breast, and looking up as if he was praying greatly.

'Lord,' says he, 'only give me death, death, and a favourable
judgment! I haven't anybody now to look after, nor anybody to look
after me. What's a few tinpennies to save a man from want? Only a
quiet grave is all I ask.'

'Murther, murther!' says Owney to himself, 'here's a man wants death
and can't have it, and here am I going to have it, and, in troth, I
don't want it at all, see.' So, after thinking a little what he had
best do, he began to sing out very merrily, but lowering his voice,
for fear he should be heard in the next room:

'To him that tied me here,
Be thanks and praises given!
I'll bless him night and day,
For packing me to heaven.
Of all the roads you'll name,
He surely will not lag,
Who takes his way to heaven
By travelling in a bag!'

'To heaven, ershishin?'[13] said the man in the chimney-corner,
opening his mouth and his eyes; 'why then, you'd be doing a Christian
turn, if you'd take a neighbour with you, that's tired of this bad and
villainous world.'

[Footnote 13: Does he say?]

'You're a fool, you're a fool!' said Owney.

'I know I am, at least so the neighbours always tell me--but what
hurt? Maybe I have a Christian soul as well as another; and fool or no
fool, in a bag or out of a bag, I'd be glad and happy to go the same
road it is you are talking of.'

After seeming to make a great favour of it, in order to allure him the
more to the bargain, Owney agreed to put him into the bag instead of
himself; and cautioning him against saying a word, he was just going
to tie him, when he was touched with a little remorse for going to
have the innocent man's life taken: and seeing a slip of a pig that
was killed the day before, in a corner, hanging up, the thought struck
him that it would do just as well to put it in the bag in their
place. No sooner said than done, to the great surprise of the natural,
he popped the pig into the bag and tied it up.

'Now,' says he, 'my good friend, go home, say nothing, but bless the
name in heaven for saving your life; and you were as near losing it
this morning as ever man was that didn't know.'

They left the house together. Presently out comes Owney-na-peak, very
hearty; and being so, he was not able to perceive the difference in
the contents of the bag, but hoisting it upon his back, he sallied out
of the house. Before he had gone far, he came to the rock of Foynes,
from the top of which he flung his burden into the salt waters.

Away he went home, and knocked at the door of the forge, which was
opened to him by Owney. You may fancy him to yourself crossing and
blessing himself over and over again, when he saw, as he thought, the
ghost standing before him. But Owney looked very merry, and told him
not to be afraid. 'You did many is the good turn in your life,' says
he, 'but the equal of this never.' So he up and told him that he found
the finest place in the world at the bottom of the waters, and plenty
of money. 'See these four pieces for a specimen,' showing him some he
had taken from his own hiding hole: 'what do you think of that for a
story?'

'Why then that it's a droll one, no less; sorrow bit av I wouldn't
have a mind to try my luck in the same way; how did you come home here
before me that took the straight road, and didn't stop for so much as
my gusthah[14] since I left Knockpatrick?'

[Footnote 14: Literally--walk in.]

'Oh, there's a short cut under the waters,' said Owney. 'Mind and only
be civil while you're in Thiernaoge,[15] and you'll make a sight o'
money.'

[Footnote 15: The abode of the fairies.]

Well became Owney, he thrust his cousin into the bag, tied it about
him, and putting it into a car that was returning after leaving a load
of oats at a corn-store in the city, it was not long before he was at
Foynes again. Here he dismounted, and going to the rock, he was, I am
afraid, half inclined to start his burden into the wide water, when he
saw a small skiff making towards the point. He hailed her, and learned
that she was about to board a great vessel from foreign parts, that
was sailing out of the river. So he went with his bag on board, and
making his bargain with the captain of the ship, he left Owney-na-peak
along with the crew, and never was troubled with him after, from that
day to this.

As he was passing by Barrygowen well, he filled a bottle with the
water; and going home, he bought a fine suit of clothes with the rest
of the money he had buried, and away he set off in the morning to the
city of Lumneach. He walked through the town, admiring everything he
saw, until he came before the palace of the king. Over the gates of
this he saw a number of spikes, with a head of a man stuck upon each,
grinning in the sunshine.

Not at all daunted, he knocked very boldly at the gate, which was
opened by one of the guards of the palace. 'Well! who are you,
friend?'

'I am a great doctor that's come from foreign parts to cure the king's
eyesight. Lead me to his presence this minute.'

'Fair and softly,' said the soldier. 'Do you see all those heads that
are stuck up there? Yours is very likely to be keeping company by
them, if you are so foolish as to come inside these walls. They are
the heads of all the doctors in the land who came before you; and
that's what makes the town so fine and healthy this time past, praised
be Heaven for the same!'

'Don't be talking, you great gomeril,' says Owney; 'only bring me to
the king at once.'

He was brought before the king. After being warned of his fate if he
should fail to do all that he undertook, the place was made clear of
all but a few guards, and Owney was informed once more, that if he
should restore the king's eyes, he should wed with the princess, and
have the crown after her father's death. This put him in great
spirits, and after making a round upon his bare knees about the
bottle, he took a little of the water, and rubbed it into the king's
eyes. In a minute he jumped up from his throne and looked about him as
well as ever. He ordered Owney to be dressed out like a king's son,
and sent word to his daughter that she should receive him that instant
for her husband.

You may say to yourself that the princess, glad as she was of her
father's recovery, did not like this message. Small blame to her,
when it is considered that she never set her eyes upon the man
himself. However, her mind was changed wonderfully when he was brought
before her, covered with gold and diamonds, and all sorts of grand
things. Wishing, however, to know whether he had as good a wit as he
had a person, she told him that he should give her, on the next
morning, an answer to two questions, otherwise she would not hold him
worthy of her hand. Owney bowed, and she put the questions as follows:

'What is that which is the sweetest thing in the world?'

'What are the three most beautiful objects in the creation?'

These were puzzling questions; but Owney having a small share of
brains of his own, was not long in forming an opinion upon the matter.
He was very impatient for the morning; but it came just as slow and
regular as if he were not in the world. In a short time he was
summoned to the courtyard, where all the nobles of the land assembled,
with flags waving, and trumpets sounding, and all manner of glorious
doings going on. The princess was placed on a throne of gold near her
father, and there was a beautiful carpet spread for Owney to stand
upon while he answered her questions. After the trumpets were
silenced, she put the first, with a clear sweet voice, and he replied:

'It's salt!' says he, very stout, out.

There was a great applause at the answer; and the princess owned,
smiling, that he had judged right.

'But now,' said she, 'for the second. What are the three most
beautiful things in the creation?'

'Why,' answered the young man, 'here they are. A ship in full sail--a
field of wheat in ear--and----'

What the third most beautiful thing was, all the people didn't hear;
but there was a great blushing and laughing among the ladies, and the
princess smiled and nodded at him, quite pleased with his wit. Indeed,
many said that the judges of the land themselves could not have
answered better, had they been in Owney's place; nor could there be
anywhere found a more likely or well-spoken young man. He was brought
first to the king, who took him in his arms, and presented him to the
princess. She could not help acknowledging to herself that his
understanding was quite worthy of his handsome person. Orders being
immediately given for the marriage to proceed, they were made one with
all speed; and it is said, that before another year came round, the
fair princess was one of the most beautiful objects in the creation.




CCHAPUTER KINGS AND WARRIORS





Next: The Knighting Of Cuculain

Previous: Seanchan The Bard And The King Of The Cats



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