Toto's Merry Winter

"Humph!" said the fairy, looking rather grave. "Are ye quite sure that this is what you wish for most, Eileen? Don't decide hastily, or ye may be sorry for it."

"Sorry!" cried Eileen, "what for wud I be sorry? Sure I'd be richer than the Countess o' Kilmoggen hersilf, let alone the Queen, be the time I'd talked for an hour. An' I loove to talk!" she added softly, half to herself.

The Green Man laughed outright at this. "Well, Eily," he said, "ye shall have yer own way. Stoop down to me here!"

Eileen bent down, and he touched her lips three times with the scarlet tassel of his cap. "Slanegher Banegher!" he said. "The charm is worked. Now go home, Eileen Macarthy, and the good wishes of the Green Men go with ye. Ye will have yer own wish fulfilled as soon as ye cross the threshold of yer home. But hark ye now!" he added, impressively. "A day may come when ye will wish with all yer heart to have the charm taken away. If that ever happens, come to this same place with a sprig of holly in yer hand. Strike this toadstool three times, and say, 'Slanegher Banegher, Skeen na Lane!' And now good-by to ye!" and clapping his scarlet cap on his head, the little man leaped from the toadstool, and instantly disappeared from sight among the ferns and mosses.

Eileen stood still for some time, lost in a dream of wonder and delight. Finally rousing herself, she gave a long, happy sigh, and hastily filling her apron with sticks, turned her steps homeward.

The sun was sinking low when she came in sight of the little cabin, at the door of which her mother was standing, looking anxiously in every direction.

"Is it yersilf, Eily?" cried the good woman in a tone of relief, as she saw the child approaching. "And where have ye been at all? It's a wild colleen y'are, to be sprankin' about o' this way, and it nearly sundown. Where have ye been, I'm askin' ye?"

Eily held up her apronful of sticks with a beaming smile, but answered never a word till she stood on the threshold of the cottage. ("Sure I might lose some," she had been saying to herself, "and that 'ud niver do.") But as soon as she had entered the little room which was kitchen, hall, dining-room, and drawing-room for the Macarthy family, she dropped her bundle of faggots, and clasping her hands together, cried, "Och, mother! what do ye think? Sure ye'll niver belave me whin I till ye – "

Here she suddenly stopped, for hop! pop! two round shining things dropped from her mouth, and rolled away over the floor of the cabin.

"Howly Michael be me guide!" cried Mrs. Macarthy; "phwhat's that?"

"It's marvels! [marbles]" shouted little Phelim, jumping up from his seat by the fire and running to pick up the shining objects. "Eily's got her mouf full o' marvels! Hurroo!"

"They aren't marvels!" said Eily, indignantly. "Wait till I till ye, mother asthore! I wint to the forest as ye bade me, to gather shticks, an' – " hop! pop! out flew two more shining things from her mouth and rolled away after the others.

Mrs. Macarthy uttered a piercing shriek, and clapped her hand over Eileen's mouth. "She's bewitched!" she cried. "Me choild's bewitched, an' shpakin' buttons! Och, wirra! wirra! what'll I do at all? Run, Phelim," she added, "an' call yer father. He's in the praty-patch, loikely. An' ye kape shtill!" she said to Eily, who was struggling vainly to free herself from her mother's powerful grasp. "Kape shtill, I'm tillin' ye, an' don't open yer lips! It's savin' yer body an' sowl I may be this minute. Saint Bridget, Saint Michael, an' blissid Saint Patrick!" she ejaculated piously, "save me choild, an' I'll serve ye on me knees the rist o' me days."

Poor Eily! This was a sad beginning of all her glory. She tried desperately to open her mouth, sure that in a moment she could make her mother understand the whole matter. But Honor Macarthy was a stalwart woman, and Eily's slender fingers could not stir the massive hand which was pressed firmly upon her lips.

At this moment her father entered hastily, with Phelim panting behind him.

"Phwhat's the matther, woman?" he asked anxiously. "Here's Phelim clane out o' his head, an' shcramin' about Eily, an' marvels an' buttons, an' I dunno what all. Phwhat ails the choild?" he added in a tone of great alarm, as he saw Eileen in her mother's arms, flushed and disordered, the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Och, Dinnis!" cried Honor, "it's bewitched she is, – clane bewitched out o' her sinses, an shpakes buttons out av her mouth wid ivery worrd she siz. Och, me choild! me poor, misfortunate choild! Who wud do ye sich an ill turn as this, whin ye niver harmed annybody since the day ye were born?"

"Buttons!" said Dennis Macarthy; "what do ye mane by buttons? How can she shpake buttons, I'm askin' ye? Sure, ye're foolish yersilf, Honor, woman! Lit the colleen go, an' she'll till me phwhat 'tis all about."

"Och, av ye don't belave me!" cried Honor. "Show thim to yer father, Phelim! Look at two av thim there in the corner, – the dirrty things!"

Phelim took up the two shining objects cautiously in the corner of his pinafore and carried them to his father, who examined them long and carefully. Finally he spoke, but in an altered voice.

"Lit the choild go, Honor," he said. "I want to shpake till her. Do as I bid ye!" he added sternly; and very reluctantly his wife released poor Eily, who stood pale and trembling, eager to explain, and yet afraid to speak for fear of being again forcibly silenced.

"Eileen," said her father, "'tis plain to be seen that these things are not buttons, but jew'ls."

"Jew'ls!" exclaimed Honor, aghast.

"Ay!" said Dennis; "jew'ls, or gims, whichiver ye plaze to call thim. Now, phwhat I want to know is, where did ye get thim?"

"Oh, Father!" cried Eily; "don't look at me that a-way! Sure, I've done no harrum! I only – " hop! pop! another splendid diamond and another white, glistening pearl fell from her lips; but she hurried on, speaking as quickly as she could: "I wint to the forest to gather shticks, and there I saw a little Grane Man, all the same loike a hoppergrass, caught be his lig in a spidher's wib; and whin I lit him free he gi' me a wish, to have whativer I loiked bist in the wurrld; an' so I wished, an' I sid – " but by this time the pearls and diamonds were hopping like hail-stones all over the cabin-floor; and with a look of deep anger and sorrow Dennis Macarthy motioned to his wife to close Eileen's mouth again, which she eagerly did.

"To think," he said, "as iver a child o' mine shud shtale the Countess's jew'ls, an' thin till me a pack o' lies about thim! Honor, thim is the beads o' the Countess's nickluss that I was tillin' ye about, that I saw on her nick at the ball, whin I carried the washin' oop to the Castle. An' this misfortunate colleen has shwallied 'em."

"Shwallied 'em!" echoed Honor, incredulously. "How wud she shwally 'em, an' have 'em in her mouth all the toime? An' how wud she get thim to shwally, an' the Countess in Dublin these three weeks, an' her jew'ls wid her? Shame an ye, Dinnis Macarthy! to suspict yer poor, diminted choild of shtalin'! It's bewitched she is, I till ye! Look at the face av her this minute!"

Just at that moment the sound of wheels was heard; and Phelim, who was standing at the open door, exclaimed, —

"Father! here's Docthor O'Shaughnessy dhrivin' past. Will I shtop him? Maybe he wud know."

"Ay, shtop him! shtop him, lad!" cried both mother and father in a breath.

Phelim darted out, and soon returned, followed by the doctor, – a tall, thin man with a great hooked nose, on which was perched a pair of green spectacles.

Eileen had never liked Dr. O'Shaughnessy; and now a cold shiver passed over her as he fixed his spectacled eyes on her and listened in silence to the confused accounts which her father and mother poured into his ear.

"Humph!" he said at last. "Bewitched? 'tis very loikely. I've known many so of late. Let me see the jew'ls, as ye call thim."

The pearls and diamonds were brought, – a whole handful of them, – and poured into the doctor's hand, which closed suddenly over them, while his dull black eyes shot out a quick gleam under the shading spectacles. The next moment, however, he laughed good-humoredly and turned them carelessly over one by one.

"Why, Dinnis," he said, "'tis aisy to see that ye've not had mich expeerunce o' jew'ls, me bye, or ye'd not mistake these bits o' glass an' sich fer thim. No! no! there's no jew'ls here, wheriver the Countess's are. An' these bits o' trash dhrop out o' the choild's mouth, ye till me, ivery toime she shpakes?"

"Ivery toime, yer Anner!" said Honor. "Out they dhrops, an' goes hoppin' an' leppin' about the room, loike they were aloive."

"I see!" said the doctor. "I understand. This is a very sirrious case, Misther Macarthy, – a very sirrious case indade, sirr; an' I'll be free to till ye that I know but wan way av curin' it."

"Och, whirrasthru!" cried Mrs. Macarthy. "What is it at all, Docthor alanna? Is it a witch has overlooked her, or what is it? Och, me choild! me poor, diminted choild! will I lose ye this-a-way? Ochone! ochone!" and in her grief she loosed her hold of Eileen and clapped her hands to her own face, sobbing aloud. But before the child could open her lips to speak, she found herself seized in another and no less powerful grasp, while another hand covered her mouth, – not warm and firm like her mother's, but cold, bony, and frog-like. Holding her as in a vice, Dr. O'Shaughnessy spoke once more to her parents.

"I'll save her loife," said he, "and mebbe her wits as well, av the thing's poassible. But it's not here I can do ut at all. I'll take the choild home wid me to me house, and Misthress O'Shaughnessy will tind her as if she wuz her own; and thin I will try th' ixpirimint which is the ownly thing on airth can save her."

"Spirimint?" said Honor. "Sure, there's two, three kinds o' mint growin' here in oor own door-yard, but I dunno av there's anny o' that kind. Will ye make a tay av it, Docthor, or is it a poultuss ye'll be puttin' an her, to dhraw out the witchcraft, loike?"

"Whisht, whisht, woman!" said Dennis, impatiently. "Howld yer prate, can't ye, an' the docthor waitin'? Is there no way ye cud cure her, an' lave her at home thin, Docthor? Faith, I'd be loth to lave her go away from uz loike this, let alone the throuble she'll be to yez!"

"No throuble at all!" said the doctor, briskly. "At laste," he added more gravely, "naw moor thin I'd gladly take for ye an' yer good woman, Dinnis! Come, help me wid the colleen, now. Aisy does it! Now, thin, oop wid ye, Eily!"

And the next moment Eileen found herself in the doctor's narrow gig, wedged tightly between him and the side of the vehicle.

"Ye can sind her bits o' clothes over by Phelim," said Dr. O'Shaughnessy, as he gathered up the reins, apparently in great haste. "I'll not shtop now. Good-day t' ye, Dinnis! My respicts to ye, Misthress Macarthy. Ye'll hear av the choild in a day or two!" And whistling to his old pony, they started off at as brisk a trot as the latter could produce on such short notice.

Poor Eileen! Was this the result of the fairy's gift? She sat still, half-paralyzed with grief and terror, for she made no doubt that the hated doctor was going to do something very, very dreadful to her.

Seeing that she made no effort to free herself, or to speak, her captor removed his hand from her mouth; but not until they were well out of sight and hearing of her parents.

"Now, Eileen," he said, not unkindly, "av ye'll be a good colleen, and not shpake a wurrd, I'll lave yer mouth free. But av ye shpake, so much as to say, 'Bliss ye!' I'll tie up yer jaw wid me pock'-handkercher, so as ye can't open ut at all. D' ye hear me, now?"

Eileen nodded silently. She had not the slightest desire to say "Bliss ye!" to Dr. O'Shaughnessy; nor did she care to fill his rusty old gig, or to sprinkle the high road, with diamonds and pearls.

"That's roight!" said the Doctor, "that's a sinsible gyurrl as ye are. See, now, what a foine bit o' sweet-cake Misthress O'Shaughnessy 'ull be givin' ye, whin we git home."

The poor child burst into tears, for the word 'home' made her realize more fully that she was going every moment farther and farther away from her own home, – from her kind father, her anxious and loving mother, and dear little Phelim. What would Phelim do at night, without her shoulder to curl up on and go to sleep, in the trundle-bed which they had shared ever since he was a tiny baby? Who would light her father's pipe, and sing him the little song he always liked to hear while he smoked it after supper? These, and many other such thoughts, filled Eileen's mind as she sat weeping silently beside the green-spectacled doctor, who cared nothing about her crying, so long as she did not try to speak.