Morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven [Conn.]) 1848-1894, 1893-05-06

handy means of ready money. The mar
ket-harpies discern with unerriue scent oil
who are pressed for rent or interest mon
ey, and they instantly combine against his
need and dependency with mstehless cum
ming and blsrney. Thus those most need
Ing fair retErn for the pitisble trifles they
are forced to sell are invariably plucked at
both ends of their need-by the constant
necessity of providing rent money for the
landlord, and, at the small market towns
by the buyers who, just as fortune telling
gipsies learn all the closet ghosts of half
county before they begin operations,
knowing that this one or that one, from
this place or that, dare not return home
without money, contrive to send him back
"o'er an aisy road for the lshtness that's
in his pocket"
Still another reason makes the Irish
market-day popular, though disastrous to
of the people, If better opportunity for So
curing comfort and competency were pos
sible. The stranger TO Ireland can hardly
conceive of the barrenness of diversion or
incident in the lives of the Irish peasAn-
try. Education and books there are not,
save in favored regions. Something must
occupy the human mind aside from the
scourgings of everyday toll. The mar
ket-day, in its exchange of countryside
HECCtAhkot AbIkAtaoAu kSbcAR-
ings, ample excitements and general hur-
entirely In the stead of the weekly paper
of our own remoser country districts. In
deed 1t is far more.
The telegraph and the railway penetrate
nearly every county of England aud Amer
lea. In more than one half of Ireland
there are country folk who have never
seen a railway car. The market village Is
still tho ultimate of their horizon The
little holding on the mountain side OF In
the valley, the little chapel where they
gather for Sunday mass, the little village
where market day brings them all togeth-
er, the rustic dance or wedding with their
rude and boisterous convivislities, the
wake which most powerful priest or pre-
thunderings. and finally the little grave
yard where all must eventually come, pro-
vide the farthest metes and bounds of their
humble lives.
One may wish Ii different, but 1t Is idle
to discuss It all save on the exact lines OF
their uneventful lives; and because the
warm Irish heart occasionally yesrns for
something moro "heartsome" than IL
knows in its scanty cabin surroundings,
do not want the regard of that better con-
ditioned man who would deny every soul
environed as these, every hour of diver
sion and lightsDmeness that can be got
from either fair. wedding or wake, even II
the poor souls return to their dreary
homes "a thrifis hearty and soft, for the
dsy's or nights "divarsion."
Whatever trife the tensnt-fsmily msy
have for disposal on market or fair day,
the entire family accompanies it. The old
mountsin-bus of q cart is got out and
sparingly CREASED the night before; the
ragged donkey OF lily kept horse Is given
an extra portion of food and additional
combing and scrsping, that his old bones
may gain new luster; and long before day
break, from mountain boreen and mist
hidden valley chattering groups begin
moving towards the village.
"The childre dear" are slowed away
alongside the pigs, ducks, chickens or veg
etables, for the common excitement has
the stonieet of Irish roads they are "slapin
rings around their swste Selves" the
youths may be trudging hopefully along.
side: but the ''ould woman" and "ould
man" are ever found lovingly bumped to-
gether upon the only sest the cart affords,
often agreeably exchanging puts from the
came comfortable pipe.
But step with me here beside the way
near the town, and see the motley crew
constantly augmented in number from
every by-way lane and intersscting road.
What a queer, kindly lot they are! Here
are "the byes," edging along in concsn-
trio groups, settling questions of neigh,
borhood moment in tremendous but
friendly harangus and dispute. Every
manner of cart drs=n by every manner
of animal, bu' chiefly by rebellious don
keys, and all piled with every manner of
Irish produce and humans, clatter and
rattle through the misty norning-csrts
with sheep bleatins piteously, with geese
craning their necks in viciously -hissed in
terroSstion: with goats aud kids lsment-
ing in pathetic altos and tIeblet; with
pigs springlpg on al.-fours from Hide to
side while euor;ing violent protest aud
surprise; and you will notice rs you must
all over Ireland, that the Irish pig boasts q
pink in color that vice with the most rs
diant flush of the rarest sea shell.
All along the way are old men, bumped
and ssvere, admitting and protesting In
ethics and politics with other calm old
men who argue, a priori, in the blandsst
and most convincing tones. There are
maidens, too. straight as a Croash Patrick
FIR, glancirg with those enhancing Irish
eyes, smiling with those ruby Irieh lips,
and setting the lads wild With that most
delicious of all rhodomontads, the Iowa
BILE blarnsy of the musical Irish tongue;
while the great packages of yarn they car
ry without effort would break an Ameri-
can woman's back completely. Not far
from them ever are the old, old women
with braideen-covered baskets on their
backs.
These contain few cones of butter, q
brace of fowls, may be a dozsn or so of
eggs, or any other product of the holding
or their lsDor that may "bring a few pence
the day" but old or young, they are knit
ting away vigorously in time to step and
gossip; aud all still, oil or young. with
their shoes slung across their shoulders, or
hidden Ia the baskets; for they are saving
them until the edge Of the village IL
reached, where a brush from a wisp OF
dewy grass will make them shine from
their late gressing, and their owners will
walk proudly into the fair with their shape
ly feet hidden from the gszs of men, iu
brogsns that
wud harm an insulter,
| Or bate deal table,