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Updated: June 9, 2025
The salmon, do you see, was a fairy salmon. Myself. What a strange coincidence! Murtagh. A what, Shorsha? Myself. Why, that the very same tale should be told of Finn-ma-Coul, which is related of Sigurd Fafnisbane. "What thief was that, Shorsha?" "Thief! 'Tis true, he took the treasure of Fafnir. Sigurd was the hero of the North, Murtagh, even as Finn is the great hero of Ireland.
'You don't say so, Shorsha ma vourneen? you don't say that you have cards fifty-two? 'I do, though; and they are quite new never been once used. 'And you'll be lending them to me, I warrant? 'Don't think it! But I'll sell them to you, joy, if you like. 'Hanam mon Dioul! am I not after telling you that I have no money at all!
"Then the world, Shorsha, would be a fool, even as you were just now saying you had frequently believed it to be; the grand thing, Shorsha, is to be able to believe oneself; if ye can do that, it matters very little whether the world believe ye or no.
It was the Irish house, Shorsha, into which I was taken, for I do not wish ye to suppose that I was in the English religious house which there is in that city, in which a purty set are educated, and in which purty doings are going on if all tales be true. "In this Irish house I commenced my studies, learning to sing and to read the Latin prayers of the church.
"You had better leave it behind you," said I; "if you take it with you, you will, perhaps, take up the thimble trade again before you get to Ireland, and lose the money I am after giving you." "No fear of that, Shorsha; never will I play on that table again, Shorsha, till I get it mended, which shall not be till I am a priest, and have a house in which to place it."
Arrah, Shorsha! I wish you would come and stay with us, and tell us some o' your sweet stories of your own self and the snake ye carried about wid ye. Faith, Shorsha dear! that snake bates anything about Finn-ma-Coul or Brian Boroo, the thieves two, bad luck to them! 'And do they get up and tell you stories? 'Sometimes they does, but oftenmost they curses me, and bids me be quiet!
In a little time, Shorsha, there was scarcely anything going on in the house but card-playing; the almoner played with me, and so did the sub- rector, and I won money from both; not too much, however, lest they should tell the rector, who had the character of a very austere man, and of being a bit of a saint; however, the thief of a porter, whose money I had won, informed the rector of what was going on, and one day the rector sent for me into his private apartment, and gave me so long and pious a lecture upon the heinous sin of card-playing, that I thought I should sink into the ground; after about half-an-hour's inveighing against card- playing, he began to soften his tone, and with a long sigh told me that at one time of his life he had been a young man himself, and had occasionally used the cards; he then began to ask me some questions about card-playing, which questions I afterwards found were to pump from me what I knew about the science.
"Oh, I'm a Catholic, just like your honour, for if I am not clane mistaken your honour is an Irishman." "Who is your spiritual director?" said I. "Why, then, it is just Father Toban, your honour, whom of course your honour knows." "Oh yes!" said I; "when you next see him present my respects to him." "What name shall I mention, your honour?" "Shorsha Borroo," said I.
"Och, Shorsha, it would be merely bringing all my sorrows back upon me!" "Well, if I know all your sorrows, perhaps I shall be able to find a help for them. I owe you much, Murtagh; you taught me Irish, and I will do all I can to help you." "Why, then, Shorsha, I'll tell ye my history. Here goes!" Murtagh's Tale.
"Then why did you bother me to tell it at first, Shorsha? Och, it was doing my ownself good, and making me forget my own sorrowful state, when ye interrupted me with your thaives of Danes!
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