“Oh, glory be to God!” murmured one of the women, “but it was a terrible thing!” and she rocked herself to and fro, moaning, all the motherhood in her awake.
“But did none of the min do nothin’?” said a powerful-looking young fellow in the orange and green jersey of the Gaelic Athletic Club, with his eyes flashing; and he clinched his teeth.
“Musha! how could they? Sure, no man ever seen the King iv the Shnakes!”
“Thin how did they know about him?” he queried, doubtfully.
“Sure, wasn’t one of their childher tuk away iv’ ry year? But, anyhow, it’s all over now! an’ so it was that none iv the min iver wint. They do say that one woman what lost her child, run up to the top of the hill; but what she seen, none could tell, for whin they found her she was a ravin’ lunatic, wid white hair an’ eyes like a corpse — an’ the mornin’ afther they found her dead in her bed wid a black mark round her neck as if she had been choked, an’ the mark was in the shape iv a shnake. Well, there was much sorra and much fear, and whin St. Patrick tuk the shnakes in hand the bonfires was lit all over the counthry. Never was such a flittin’ seen as whin the shnakes came from all parts wrigglin’ and crawlin’ an’ shkwirmin’.”
Here the narrator dramatically threw himself into an attitude, and with the skill of a true improvisatore, suggested in every pose and with every limb and in every motion the serpentine movements.
“They all came away to the west, and seemed to come to this wan mountain. From the north and the south and the east they came be millions an’ thousands an’ hundhreds — for whin St. Patrick ordhered them out he only tould them to go, but he didn’t name the place — an’ there was he up on top of Brandon Mountain, wid his vistments on to him an’ his crozier in his hand, and the shnakes movin’ below him, all goin’ up north, an’ sez he to himself:
“‘I must see about this.’ An’ he got down from aff iv the mountain, and he folly’d the shnakes, and he see them move along to the hill beyant that they call Knockcalltecrore. An’ be this time they wor all come from all over Ireland, and they wor all round the mountain — exceptin’ on the say-side — an’ they all had their heads pointed up the hill, and their tails pointed to the Saint, so that they didn’t see him, an’ they all gave wan great hiss, an’ then another, an’ another, like wan, two, three! An’ at the third hiss the King iv the Shnakes rose up out of the wee fen at the top of the hill, wid his goold crown gleamin’; an’ more betoken it was harvest time, an’ the moon was up, an’ the sun was settin’, so the big jool in the crown had the light of both the sun an’ the moon, an’ it shone so bright that right away in Lensther the people thought the whole counthry was afire. But whin the Saint seen him, his whole forrum seemed to swell out an’ get bigger an’ bigger, an’ he lifted his crozier, an’ he pointed west, an’ sez he, in a voice like a shtorm, ‘To the say, all ye shnakes! At wanst! to the say!’
“An’ in the instant, wid wan movement, an’ wid a hiss that made the air seem full iv watherfalls, the whole iv the shnakes that was round the hill wriggled away into the say as if the fire was at their tails. There was so many iv them that they filled up the say out beyant to Cusheen Island, and them that was behind, had to shlide over their bodies. An’ the say piled up till it sent a wave mountains high rollin’ away across the Atlantic till it sthruck upon the shore iv America — though more betoken it wasn’t America thin, for it wasn’t discovered till long afther. An’ there was so many shnakes that they do say that all the white sand that dhrifts up on the coast from the Blaskets to Achill Head is made from their bones.” Here Andy cut in:
“But, Jerry, you haven’t tould us if the King iv the Shnakes wint too.”
“Musha! but it’s in a hurry ye are. How can I tell ye the whole laygend at wanst; an’, moreover, when me mouth is that dhry I can hardly spake at all — an’ me punch is all dhrunk —”
He turned his glass face down on the table, with an air of comic resignation. Mrs. Kelligan took the hint and refilled his glass while he went on:
“Well! whin the shnakes tuk to say-bathin’ an’ forgot to come in to dhry themselves, the ould King iv thim sunk down agin into the lake, an’ Saint Patrick rowls his eyes, an’ sez he to himself:
“‘Musha! is it dhramin’ I am, or what? or is it laughin’ at me he is? Does he mane to defy me?’ An’ seem’ that no notice was tuk iv him at all, he lifts his crozier, and calls out:
“‘Hi! here! you! Come here! I want ye!’ As he spoke, Jerry went through all the pantomime of the occasion, exemplifying by every movement the speech of both the Saint and the Snake.
“Well, thin the King iv the Shnakes puts up his head out iv the lake, an’ sez he:
“‘Who calls?’
“‘I do,’ says St. Patrick, an’ he was so much mulvathered at the Shnake presumin’ to sthay, afther he tould thim all to go that for a while he didn’t think it quare that he could sphake at all.
“‘Well, what do ye want wid me?’ sez the Shnake.
“‘I want to know why you didn’t lave Irish soil wid all th’ other Shnakes,’ sez the Saint.
“‘Ye tould the Shnakes to go,’ sez the King, ‘an’ I am their King, so I am; and your wurrds didn’t apply to me!’ an’ with that he dhrops like a flash of lightnin’ into the lake again.
“Well! St. Patrick was so tuk back wid his impidence that he had to think for a minit, an’ then he calls again:
“‘Hi! here! you!’
“‘What do you want now?’ sez the King iv the Shnakes, again poppin’ up his head.
“‘I want to know why you didn’t obey me ordhers?’ sez the Saint. An’ the King luked at him an’ laughed; and he looked mighty evil, I can tell ye, for be this time the sun was down and the moon up, an’ the jool in his crown threw out a pale cold light that would make you shuddher to see. ‘An’,’ says he, as slow an’ as hard as an attorney (saving your prisence) when he has a bad case:
“‘I didn’t obey,’ sez he, ‘because I thraverse the jurisdiction.’
“‘How do ye mane?’ asks St. Patrick.
“‘Because,’ sez he, ‘this is my own houldin’,’ sez he, ‘be perscriptive right,’ sez he. I’m the whole govermint here, and I put a nexeat on meself not to lave widout me own permission,’ and he ducks down agin into the pond.
“Well, the Saint began to get mighty angry, an’ he raises his crozier, and he calls him agin:
“‘Hi! here! you!’ and the Shnake pops up.
“‘Well! Saint, what do you want now? Amn’t I to be quit iv ye at all?’
“‘Are ye goin’, or are ye not?’ sez the Saint.
“‘I’m King here, an’ I’m not goin’.’
“‘Thin,’ says the Saint, ‘I depose ye!’
“‘You can’t,’ sez the Shnake, ‘while I have me crown.’
“‘Then