"Well, now, in order to satisfy you, I will saddle my mare, and ride
over to the nigger's, and bring you word as fast as I can."
I thanked him sincerely for his kindness, and returned, in somewhat
better spirits, to the house. At ten o'clock my good messenger
returned with the glad tidings that all was well.
The day before, when half the journey had been accomplished, John
Monaghan let go the rope by which he led the cow, and she had broken
away through the woods, and returned to her old master; and when
they again reached his place, night had set in, and they were
obliged to wait until the return of day. Moodie laughed heartily at
all my fears; but indeed I found them no joke.
Brian's eldest son, a lad of fourteen, was not exactly an idiot,
but what, in the old country, is very expressively termed by the
poor people a "natural." He could feed and assist himself, had been
taught imperfectly to read and write, and could go to and from the
town on errands, and carry a message from one farm-house to another;
but he was a strange, wayward creature, and evidently inherited, in
no small degree, his father's malady.
During the summer months he lived entirely in the woods, near his
father's dwelling, only returning to obtain food, which was
generally left for him in an outhouse. In the winter, driven home
by the severity of the weather, he would sit for days together
moping in the chimney-corner, without taking the least notice of
what was passing around him. Brian never mentioned this boy - who
had a strong, active figure; a handsome, but very inexpressive
face - without a deep sigh; and I feel certain that half his own
dejection was occasioned by the mental aberration of his child.
One day he sent the lad with a note to our house, to know if Moodie
would purchase the half of an ox that he was going to kill. There
happened to stand in the corner of the room an open wood box, into
which several bushels of fine apples had been thrown; and, while
Moodie was writing an answer to the note, the eyes of the idiot were
fastened, as if by some magnetic influence, upon the apples. Knowing
that Brian had a very fine orchard, I did not offer the boy any of
the fruit. When the note was finished, I handed it to him. The lad
grasped it mechanically, without removing his fixed gaze from the
apples.
"Give that to your father, Tom."
The boy answered not - his ears, his eyes, his whole soul, were
concentrated in the apples. Ten minutes elapsed, but he stood
motionless, like a pointer at dead set.
"My good boy, you can go."
He did not stir.
"Is there anything you want?"
"I want," said the lad, without moving his eyes from the objects of
his intense desire, and speaking in a slow, pointed manner, which
ought to have been heard to be fully appreciated, "I want ap-ples!"
"Oh, if that's all, take what you like."
The permission once obtained, the boy flung himself upon the box
with the rapacity of a hawk upon its prey, after being long poised
in the air, to fix its certain aim; thrusting his hands to the right
and left, in order to secure the finest specimens of the coveted
fruit, scarcely allowing himself time to breathe until he had filled
his old straw hat, and all his pockets, with apples. To help
laughing was impossible; while this new Tom o' Bedlam darted from
the house, and scampered across the field for dear life, as if
afraid that we should pursue him, to rob him of his prize.
It was during this winter that our friend Brian was left a fortune
of three hundred pounds per annum; but it was necessary for him to
return to his native country, in order to take possession of the
property. This he positively refused to do; and when we remonstrated
with him on the apparent imbecility of this resolution, he declared
that he would not risk his life, in crossing the Atlantic twice for
twenty times that sum. What strange inconsistency was this, in a
being who had three times attempted to take away that which he
dreaded so much to lose accidentally!
I was much amused with an account which he gave me, in his quaint
way, of an excursion he went upon with a botanist, to collect
specimens of the plants and flowers of Upper Canada.
"It was a fine spring day, some ten years ago, and I was yoking my
oxen to drag in some oats I had just sown, when a little, fat,
punchy man, with a broad, red, good-natured face, and carrying a
small black leathern wallet across his shoulder, called to me over
the fence, and asked me if my name was Brian B - -? I said, 'Yes;
what of that?'
"'Only you are the man I want to see. They tell me that you are
better acquainted with the woods than any person in these parts;
and I will pay you anything in reason if you will be my guide for
a few days.'
"'Where do you want to go?' said I.
"'Nowhere in particular,' says he. 'I want to go here and there, in
all directions, to collect plants and flowers.'
"That is still-hunting with a vengeance, thought I. 'To-day I must
drag in my oats. If to-morrow will suit, we will be off.'
"'And your charge?' said he. 'I like to be certain of that.'
"'A dollar a day. My time and labour upon my farm, at this busy
season, is worth more than that.'
"'True,' said he.
