Stories and Sketches | Page 3

game of him,
and applied to me for information, saying, "Tell me, sir, if what Mrs
---- says is true?" "Do not be alarmed, Terry," I replied, "for if you live
till the Indians eat you, you will look even older than you now do."
This allusion to his ancient appearance was very mischievous on my
part, and I regretted it a moment after; but he was so much pleased to
learn that he had nothing to fear from the Indians that he readily
forgave me for alluding to a subject upon which he was usually very
sensitive. I remember taking a walk one afternoon during the
haymaking season to the field where Terry was at work. Mr. ---- had
driven to the village with the farm horses, leaving Terry to draw in hay
with a rheumatic old animal that was well nigh unfit for use. But as the
hay was in good condition for getting in, and the sky betokened rain, he
told Terry, upon leaving home, to accomplish as much as possible,
during his absence, and he would, if the rain kept off, draw in the
remainder upon his return. As I drew nigh I spied Terry perched upon
the top of a load of hay holding the reins, and urging forward the horse,
in the ascent of a very steep hill. First, he tried coaxing, and as that
proved of little avail, he next tried the effect of a few vigorous strokes

with a long switch which he carried in his hand. When the poor old
horse had dragged the heavy load about half way up the hill, he seemed
incapable of further exertion, and horse, cart, Terry and all began a
rapid backward descent down the hill.
Here the boy's patience gave way entirely. "Musha thin, bad luck to ye
for one harse," said he as he applied the switch with renewed energy.
Just then I arrived within speaking distance and said, "Do you think,
Terry, you would be any better off if you had two of them." "Not if
they were both like this one," answered he. I advised Terry to come
down from his elevated position, and not add his weight to the load
drawn by the overburdened animal. He followed my advice, and when
with some difficulty we had checked the descending motion of the
cart-wheels, we took a fair start, and the summit of the hill was finally
gained.
"Its often," said Terry, "that I've seen a horse draw a cart, but I niver
before saw a cart drawing a horse." There was one trait in the character
of the boy which pleased me much; he was very grateful for any little
act of kindness. He often got into difficulties with the family, owing to
his rashness and want of consideration, and I often succeeded in
smoothing down for him many rough places in his daily path; and when
he observed that I interested myself in his behalf, his gratitude knew no
bounds. I believe he would have made almost any sacrifice to please
me. He surprised me one day by saying suddenly, "Don't I wish you'd
only be tuck sick." "Why, Terry," replied I, "I am surprised indeed, that
you should wish evil to me." "Indade thin," answered he, "its not for
evil that I wish it, but for your good, jist to let ye see how tinderly I
would take care uv ye." I thanked him for his kind intentions, saying
that I was very willing to take the will for the deed in this case, and had
no wish to test his kindness by a fit of sickness.
He came in one evening fatigued with a hard day's work, and retired
early to bed. His sleeping apartment adjoined the sitting-room. I had
several letters to write which occupied me till a late hour; the family
had all retired. I finished writing just as the clock struck twelve. At that
moment, I was almost startled by Terry's voice singing in a very high

key. My first thought was that he had gone suddenly crazy. With a light
in my hand I stepped softly into the room, to find Terry sitting up in
bed and singing at the top of his voice, a song in the "Native Irish
Tongue." By this time he had roused every one in the house; and others
of the family entered the room. By the pauses which he made, we knew
when he reached the end of each verse. He sang several verses; at the
time I knew how many, but am unable now to recall the exact number.
He must surely have been a sound sleeper, or the loud laughter which
filled the room would have waked him, for the scene was ludicrous in
the extreme: Terry