Название: The Bunsby Papers (second series): Irish Echoes
Автор: John Brougham
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Зарубежная классика
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The fairer apparition, in a voice like spoken melody, answered: "I am the spirit of your better thoughts."
"You don't tell me that, Miss, then it's glad that I am to see you to the fore, and mighty sorry that I haven't got a sate dacent enough to offer to the likes of such an iligant creather," said Dan, "and who's your frind, may I ax?" he went on, turning to the darker beauty.
"I am the spirit of your evil thoughts," replied the other, in a rich, full tone, bending her lustrous eyes upon the questioner in a way that made his heart bound.
"Oh! you are, are you," he gasped out; "faix, and I don't know, if it's welcome you ought to be, or not; but, for the sake of good manners, I'd ax you to sit too, av I had the convaynience."
"You called upon us both, just now," said the good spirit.
"And we are here," continued the other; "so choose between us, which you will entertain."
"Couldn't I be on the safe side, and entertain the both of yez?" suggested Dan, with a propitiatory wink to each.
"That is impossible," replied the good spirit. "We only meet when there's contention in a mortal mind whether he shall the right or wrong pursue. Did you not wish but now that you could change conditions with the rich man opposite?"
"Well, then, I may's well let the whole truth out, seein' that you're likely to know all about it; I did wish somethin' of the sort."
"And a very reasonable wish it was," said the dark spirit, on his left.
"A very foolish wish," firmly observed the fair one.
"I don't agree with you," replied the other.
"You never do," said the good spirit.
"Nor ever will!"
"I don't lose much by that" —
"Ladies, darlin'," interposed Dan, "I'd rayther you wouldn't disthress yerselves on my account."
"Don't be alarmed, my good friend," said the fair spirit. "We never can agree; but, how do you resolve? Is it still your wish to stand in the Squire's shoes?"
"Top-boots?" suggested Dan.
"Of course it is," replied the evil spirit for him. "Who would not have such wish, to pass his days in luxury and ease, not labor – pinched, in care and penury?"
"Thrue for you," observed Dan, approvingly.
"But who would give up even a small share of joy, contentment, and domestic love, to seek, perchance, for more, perchance, for less?" replied the other.
"There's rayson in that," said Dan.
"Aye, but the boy," said his left-hand companion; "see what a glorious life the heir to such a wealthy man would lead."
"That sets me heart bubblin' like a bilin' pot," cried Dan, joyously.
"You are resolved, then, to be ruled by me?" demanded the suggester of evil thoughts.
"Indeed, and I am, that I am, just for the sake of the babby," said Dan.
"Follow, and I will point out a way," said the dark spirit, gliding towards the door. Dan made a movement to follow, when his footsteps were arrested by a chorus of invisible voices, small, but distinct, and musical as a choir of singing birds, that appeared to sound within his very brain, so that he heard every word as clearly as though he had uttered it himself.
Every mortal has his grief:
Each one thinks that his is chief.
Better keep your present lot,
Than to tempt – you don't know what.
Irresolution made him falter on the threshold through which the spirit of evil thoughts had just passed; it was but for an instant, however, for the same tiny voices sang within his heart the blessings and the joys of wealth, and, above all, the image of his darling child, made happy in its possession.
"Here goes," said he. "The divil a pin's point does it matther what comes of me, so that luck lays a howld of the little gossoon." So saying, he followed the dark spirit, while the other bowed its lovely head upon its breast, and shedding tears of anguish for the tempted one, whose weakness she had not the power to strengthen, slowly and pensively came after, resolved not to abandon her charge while there was yet a hope to save.
CHAPTER III
Our selfish pleasures multiply amain,
But then their countless progeny is pain.
We left the great Squire Bulworthy, preparing to astonish the neighborhood, which he assuredly succeeded in doing, but not in a style at all creditable or satisfactory to himself.
It would appear, indeed, as though the hearty, but uncharitable wish of the irritated СКАЧАТЬ