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 McGahey 
 Will o' th' Wisp
 
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 THE LIBRARY 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
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 LOS ANGELES
 
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 ""Thus fa.r with Will, he'd wovkevL hnl still 
 ? e e lin ^ c o mp elle d a.f^ y . j n s t hi .'j mU 
 
 T 1, hum p ciw rij, and J djo our on 
 
 Bj" puissance of some power unknowi
 
 WILL 0' TH' WISP 
 
 OK, 
 
 % i00i Uorli iieto fost. 
 
 A LEGEND OF LITTLE BEITAIN 
 
 IN YEESE. 
 
 BT 
 
 JOHN Mc. GAHEY. 
 
 WITH AN ILLtJSTRATIOX 
 
 By KENNY MEADOWS. 
 
 IToniron : 
 
 TRINTED & PUBLISHED BY HENRY MITCHENER, 
 
 XXVI, EVERSHOLT STREET, OAKLEY SaUARI. 
 
 1857.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 i-9no 
 
 The story which the author has attempted to illus- 
 trate is extant among Irish Legends, and, with 
 several variations, among continental and, perhaps, 
 oriental tales of that class. The personages, as well 
 as the superhuman incidents, are among those varia- 
 tions : that of the arm chair alone appearing to have 
 been imiversally adopted. 
 
 The hint enabling the author to work into the 
 texture of his production the character of the dumb 
 blacksmith was taken from a German romance 
 
 It will be seen by the proem that the work was 
 written at the time of the agitation for the Repeal of 
 the Union. That time has happily passed. Semi- 
 public, official duties for a series of years caused the 
 author to throw the production aside. 
 
 By the advice of his friends, he now offers it to 
 them and the pubKc, and hopes its modest form and 
 pretentions will not prejudice any merit it may 
 possess. 
 
 A meagre skeleton of a tale, heard in his early 
 youth, was all the author had for his subject. He 
 has endeavoured to fill it up characteristically and 
 ciicumstantially ; and will be gratified if he should 
 learn he has produced a readable little work. 
 
 'i3 s . «
 
 WILL 0' TH' WISP; 
 
 OE, 
 uA. 00013 -VirOTlJZ. ISTEVER HOST. 
 
 A LEGEND OP LITTLE BEITAIN. 
 
 There is an isle, and scarce a finer, 
 By Eomans called " Britannia Minor : " 
 A fitting name enough to hit on 
 For one so near akin to Britain, 
 Which those who preach up disaffection 
 And the Isles' anomalous connexion 
 Should ponder, e're they lead eight million 
 Of native Britons to rebellion ; 
 And as 'tis clear enough no hatchment 
 Proclaims the death of their attachment 
 To Eoman nomenclature yet. 
 And the old Latin epithet 
 "Magna" continues to distinguish 
 Britannia that is Scotch and English, 
 In every sense it seems befitting 
 We still call Erin "Little Britain." ^''^
 
 In Little Britain, then, tradition 
 Tells of St. Patrick, on his mission, 
 How, travelling near the bog of Allan, 
 The nag he rode on lame had fallen 
 Through loss of shoes and want of shoeing. 
 Which to his mission must be ruin. 
 Unless he soon should fall in with 
 Some kind and charitable smith. 
 
 In village near, close by the bridge end, 
 Lived Will, the hero of our legend, 
 A blacksmith he, and much renow^ned, 
 Besort of all the country round. 
 A.S thitherward St. Patrick led, 
 In piteous plight, his drooping steed, 
 The sound of WiUie's anvil near 
 Struck on the Saint's delighted ear ; 
 But first on steed's, who pricks his ears up, 
 And snorts and snuffs tlie air and rears up. 
 Forgets he's lame, and, twitching sidelong, 
 Euns off to Will with saddle and bridle on ; 
 But ne'er a rider, whom our wight 
 Supposed he'd thrown, till his sad plight 
 Perceiving, Willie took for granted 
 The beast had come for what he wanted ; 
 And when, his way and nag pursuing, 
 The Saint came, Will was busy shoeing.
 
 7 
 
 "Good man," quoth Patrick, "stay your hand, 
 And let this matter be explained ; 
 For not a coin have I this earth in 
 To pay with — not a copper farthing." 
 
 " Indeed I won't, then," was Will's answer, 
 " You take me for some other man, sir : 
 Is't I would let the poor beast pass 
 In such a pitiable case ? 
 When you come back pay, if you've money. 
 And if you've none, just keep it, honey." 
 
 This generosity so won 
 The Saint's good will, he vowed, when done, 
 If by a miracle or two, ^^^ 
 The noble deed should have its due. 
 
 And now, good readers, not to fail 
 In true construction of our tale. 
 While Willie nails the shoes the horse on. 
 His former life we will discoiu'se on. 
 
 Will came of a sad heathen race ; 
 Was bred and born in this same place ; 
 Then bred again to smith's work was, 
 But never born again, alas !
 
 His father was a smith before him, 
 And, (lying, Will did much deplore him ; 
 But soon took comfort, which his father 
 In shape of cash contrived to gather. 
 This did no good to Will, but evil ; 
 He laid out all on di'ink and revel ; 
 Yet none could say his cash was squandered, 
 Por all went to the tavern landlord. 
 A drunken dog he grew, nor would he 
 Work at his trade for any body. 
 Though there was no one else to do it ; 
 But at the last he had to rue it : 
 For even while he yet had not 
 Quite sent his money all to pot, 
 A rival forge was in one day 
 Set up, and drew his work away. 
 Yet whence the stranger smith had come 
 No one could learn, for he was dumb ; 
 While jobs poured in upon him thickly, 
 And folk stared — they were done so quickly. 
 
 " The wight that will not when ho may, 
 Shan't when he will," old proverbs say : 
 This Will was now obliged to learn 
 When he'd no work his bread to earn, 
 Nor cash ; and people cared no more 
 For him than he for them before :
 
 Even his pot companions shunned him, 
 And he the landlord, for he dunned him. 
 
 "Whether it be that constant tipple 
 "Washes away the brains of people, 
 Eeducing them at all events 
 To a sort of guilty innocents : 
 Or whether their retiring senses 
 Draw the divine intelligences, 
 Their guardian angels, quite away, 
 And fiends come in, 'twere bold to say ; 
 But one thing's clear, your sots sometimes 
 Are capable of fearful crimes ; 
 And Will had now got to that sure pass 
 Most fitting for the devil's purpose : 
 It hence becomes our painful task 
 To shew the manner how en masque 
 The devil did poor Will cajole, 
 And got the bargain of his soul. 
 
 Made desperate through keen want and scorn, 
 Life was too dreadful to be borne. 
 So, with intent to hang himself, 
 He took a rope from ofi" a shelf; 
 But, while he fastened it to a hook up. 
 It struck him 'twould be best to tuck up
 
 10 
 
 The rogue that robbed him of his business, 
 And so had brought him into this mess ; 
 Moreover it would save the unpleasant 
 Sacrifice of his neck at present, 
 Though afterwards it might endanger ; 
 But none knew the intruding stranger 
 Wliom he'd so quietly despatch 
 That no suspicion should attach ; 
 Then he'd work hard, impelled by want, 
 And none should miss the old miscreant. 
 The diabolic deed thus planned, he. 
 First considering it more handy 
 To knock him down, then with the rope 
 Make him amends and hang him up, 
 Concealed a cudgel 'neath his clothes. 
 And left his home to seek his foe's. 
 
 'Twas night, and all was drear and gloomy 
 "When Will came to the forge of dummy, 
 Who, hard at work, his forge fii-c flaming 
 Bright in the darkness as Will came in, 
 Upon him threw a covert look 
 As not displeased ; but further took 
 'No heed of his fair-seeming foe. 
 Till Wm said, " Shall I give you a blow ?" 
 Laying his hand upon the bellows black, 
 That he might be at the old fellow's back.
 
 11 
 
 "Yes, if you're able !" was replied 
 
 With voice that WiU electrified, 
 
 So unexpected, and with hint 
 
 Conveyed as of defiance in't. 
 
 Yet 'twas the sound alone which fell 
 
 Upon his ears so horrible ; 
 
 For though the speaker's look was grim. 
 
 He still seemed not displeased with him. 
 
 Thus reassured, Will tried, unable 
 
 To blow the bellows formidable. 
 
 Thought Will, " What strength must he have 
 
 for 'em ! 
 The devil take them ! I can't stir 'em." 
 The other instantly did seize. 
 And worked them greatly at his ease ; 
 Pouring a roaring storm into 
 The fire, which burnt so fierce and blue, 
 That Will grew somewhat terrified ; 
 But did not shew it, out of pride. 
 Meanwhile the blower, ceasing, stooped 
 And took up cudgel which had dropped 
 From Will whilst pulling hard and hauling, 
 Whose fears foreboded now a mauling. 
 And scarce were eased, to see it blazing 
 I'the fire, for blood poured out like resin. 
 
 Quoth the other then, addressing Will, 
 "In magic I have some small skill.
 
 .2 
 
 (My dumbness, as you now perceive, 
 Was nothing but a make-believe,) 
 And by mine art have that found out 
 Which needs not more be said about 
 Than this, that had you known me really. 
 You ne'er had tried to harm m^, Willie : 
 Your friend am I, believe me, brother — 
 Your friend, when left, you have no other ; 
 To prove it, you shall be restored 
 To your lost pleasures at a word. 
 And, without robbery or pillage. 
 Be wcaltliicr than all the village." 
 
 "O^ 
 
 Will asked him " How ?" "Your word just 
 give," 
 Quoth he, '' That every day you live. 
 In brimming bumpers you will drown 
 Life's cares before the sun goes down. 
 Means shall not lack, as I do warrant ye ; 
 ]3ut your performance needs a guarantee." 
 "Just take my word, and you'll not suffer," 
 Cried Will, elated by the offer, 
 " I not get drunk ! may old Nick fetch me 
 If sober you at sunset catch me ! " 
 
 "Be that the bargain !" quoth the other. 
 And vanished in a smoky smother,
 
 13 
 
 As did, no vestige left, the smithy. 
 
 Quoth Will, " The bargain, fiend, go with 
 thee! 
 I little dreamt with thee to make it, 
 And less that thou'dst be first to break it: 
 For means he left me in the lurch has. 
 What way have I one drop to purchase? 
 I'm more than ever now forlorn." 
 Then went home sad and slept till morn, 
 When he was waked up by a crowd. 
 Who all at once began aloud 
 Each to implore him to do first 
 His job, for his need was the worst. 
 
 "How's this?" quoth Will, ''The day that's 
 gone 
 I might have starved for want of one." 
 
 ''Oh!" cried the whole, " That dumb, old thief 
 Has choused us all beyond belief : 
 There's not an implement of tillage. 
 Or piece of iron in the village, 
 That e'er upon his anvil lay. 
 But has this morning turned to clay." 
 
 " Go to him, then, and tell him on't," 
 Quoth Will, " and call him to account."
 
 14 
 
 '' Alas ! he's fled, and not a trace 
 Of him is left upon the place — 
 Gone, as he came, no man knows whither." 
 Quoth Will, " You're all served right together, 
 For leaving me, that was born with ye, 
 And thronging to a stranger's smithy. 
 But no apologies, good neighbours ; 
 You still are welcome to my labours ; 
 Yet every mother's son shall sum me 
 Up twice as much as he paid Dummy, 
 And on this anvil lay his brass 
 Ere I thereon his iron place : 
 So now, your pressing cases proving, 
 Down with youi' money, or be moving." 
 
 Eemonstrance vain, each paid at length ; 
 But Will must first recruit his strength, 
 Which he in not less then a week did ; 
 And 'twas like strength of corps effected 
 With copious drink, when case is urgent, 
 As practised by recruiting sergeant. 
 
 Seven days' potations past, our toper 
 Upon the next began work sober ; 
 But, tiring in the afternoon. 
 To drinldng once more changed his tune :
 
 15 
 
 And thus each day he more or less 
 Worked, and then took to di'imkenness : 
 For he was skilful, and could do 
 Much work, when he'd a mind thereto. 
 In little space, and so had leisure 
 And means to tipple at his pleasure. 
 
 Always i'th' afternoon he had 
 This custom, like Prince Hamlet's dad, 
 And into his head had that poured down 
 Which oft bereft him of a crown. 
 
 His reckless course unchecked he pursued 
 Till Patrick came to have his horse shod. 
 When, for steed's sake, once in a way 
 He agreed to lengthen out his day; 
 And, to his profit as his praise, 
 He thereby lengthened out his days, 
 As you shall hear. 
 
 The horse is shod, 
 The Saint's amount and on the road, 
 While in his shop the blacksmith chuckles 
 And laughs, relaxing oft his knuckles. 
 And well he may ! The little aid 
 He lent the Saint is well repaid : 
 Three wished-for things, be what they "will, 
 The Saint has promised to fulfil.
 
 16 
 
 By virtue of miraculous power, 
 If thought upon within an hour. 
 
 I^ow, had "Will but been wise, alas ! 
 Instead of an egregious ass, 
 He'd made his labour on the occasion 
 The working out of his salvation ; 
 But minding nothing of that sort. 
 The first thought in his head was sport. 
 '' Whoe'er in this arm chair shall sit 
 May he not rise till I think fit ! " 
 This first he wished, and his sides shook 
 At thought of such a standing joke. 
 
 The next was better than a jest, 
 As oft the second thought is best, 
 For often needing extra aid 
 In the exigencies of his trade, 
 He wished that whosoever took 
 His sledge, and on the anvil sti'uck, 
 Might by no means relinquish it 
 Or cease to beat till he thought fit. 
 
 The third wish, in a worldly view, 
 Was better still than the other two : 
 In case the needful should grow scant 
 He thought he'd save himself from want
 
 By wishmg the first shilling he 
 Dropped in his leather bag might be 
 His to lay ont, and still to find 
 Back in his bag when he'd a mind : 
 For ever drawn from, yet undrawn, 
 The purse of the shy cluricaune. '°^ 
 
 Scarce had he laid his wishing cap 
 O'th' shelf, when who should fill the gap 
 Of door but the old vanished blacksmith, 
 Whom he'd consented to go snacks with. 
 
 Will mustered courage to solicit 
 His meaning by this unsought visit. 
 " My meaning ? Is not sunset far gone ? 
 I come to keep you to your bargain.'' 
 
 Quoth Will, '' That bargain, sir, you broke, 
 And, vanishing, left it all smoke." 
 
 " Broke !" t'other cried ; "have I not given 
 The means whereby your trade has thriven ? 
 What job could you have laid your hand on. 
 Had I not pleased the place to abandon ? 
 Or how had you got double pay, 
 If my work had not turned to clay ? 
 Thus my word's kept : nor did you miss 
 A day, ere set of sun, till this, 
 
 B
 
 18 
 
 To take your usual, drunken surfeit ; 
 And 'twas youi*self proposed the forfeit : 
 Sober at sunset now I catch you, 
 And am arrived, old Nick, to fetch you." 
 Trapped into more than he'd intended. 
 Will saw his case could not be mended 
 By flat resistance, so prayed Satan 
 To indulge him by a little waiting. 
 
 '' Since you're so reasonable and civil, 
 I'll wait a short time," quoth the Devil. 
 
 " Thank you," quoth Will, and plied his hand, 
 "But won't you sit, man, while you stand?" 
 The fiend sat down, quite unaware 
 Of Will's wish, or his gifted chair. 
 For he had not ta'en any trouble 
 With Will, as loth to lay out double 
 The necessary pains to lure 
 One to him of whom he was sure, 
 And only just looked in to see 
 "That Will was fuddled faithfully 
 Each eve at sunset, since the agreement. 
 Nor knew the Saint's miraculous payment. 
 
 Will thought, " Now if the old traveller's 
 tricked me 
 As well as old Nick here, that's nicked me,
 
 19 
 
 And these thi'ee wishes I've been hugging 
 Should turn out nothing but humbugging, 
 I'm lost for aye !" While thus he mused, 
 The fiendly anger was aroused, 
 For Willie's work began to hang. 
 And lazily the anvil rang. 
 When thus the Fiend; "No more I'll wait here, 
 Will ; you impose on my good nature." 
 The blacksmith now must sink or swim ; 
 So, casting careless eye on him, 
 Exclaimed, "You shall wait; devil a bit 
 You stir from this till I think fit." 
 This riled the Fiend, who would have risen, 
 But found his nether end in prison, 
 Which to release leg bail he offered : 
 The chair refused, though promptly proffered. 
 O'erjoyed at this. Will laughed outright. 
 Which but increased the Devil's spite ; 
 Enraged to find a man his duper, 
 He curst and swore like any trooper. 
 With horrid oaths and blasphemies 
 B — ting Will's false tongue and his eyes ; 
 But all his blastings harmless passed 
 The Blacksmith, like an idle blast. 
 Who shut his shop up, and away 
 To tavern hied with small delay ; 
 
 b2
 
 20 
 
 But, stirring first at door his wit up, 
 Begged Satan would "be pleased to sit up 
 For his return." This said, our spark 
 The Prince of Darkness left i'th' dark. 
 
 Will spent the night in drunken riot, 
 And deemed he enhanced his triumph by it : 
 Went home as soon as sobered faii'ly, 
 Ajid found the Fiend inclined for parley, 
 Wlio promised seven whole years to leave him 
 If he liis liberty would give him. 
 This Will agreed to, but with tact, 
 Sinking the true cause of the fact, 
 Said, "The seat's virtue he must trace 
 As to St. Patrick's resting place. 
 Who'd sat thereon, and when he rose 
 Devoutly made the sign o'th cross ; 
 And still, i'faith, till it be made here. 
 You fundamentally must adhere." 
 Will made it, and, in gi-eat despite. 
 The Devil vanished at the sight. 
 
 Will when he'd got rid of the Fiend, 
 Instead of trying to amend, 
 His old course took without abhorrence. 
 And no particular occuiTence 
 (Save some resistance which a chief 
 Was offering to the now belief)
 
 21 
 
 Transpired, till, at the seven years' finis, 
 Again comes his Satanic Highness. 
 
 ^' Your time is come, and so am I, 
 And you must come too, instantly. 
 The night of horrors I endured 
 On that cursed chair, if well assured 
 Of fifty souls as ripe as you are, 
 I would not once again endure ; 
 For even I have my enjoyment 
 Whilst I can find myself employment ; 
 "But, forced to inactivity. 
 Thought kindles Hell where'er I be: 
 This time be certain I'll not wait. 
 And now you're mine as sure as fate." 
 
 Thus Satan; and thus "Will: " In troth, 
 The time's but awkward, though, for both ; 
 For if this order I'm upon. 
 Of horse-shoes be not quickly done 
 The Christian faith may gain the sway. 
 And all our work be thrown away. 
 The enemy is in great force ; 
 These parts must send two hundred horse : 
 This lot's the last that I'm now doing." 
 On this old Beelzebub looked knowing,
 
 22 
 
 And swore tlie campaign should not lose 
 Its cavahy for want of shoes ; 
 Nor the effort, which himself had planned, 
 Fall through while he could lend a hand ; 
 Then, sei^iing sledge with hasty snatch, 
 Soon of Will's order made dispatch ; 
 For every time his heavy hand fell, 
 A shoe complete was on the anvil ! 
 
 Thus far with Will he'd worked, but still 
 Feeling compelled, against his will, 
 To thump away and labour on 
 By puissance of some power unknown ; 
 And fathoming with fiend's discernment 
 In Willie's aspect some concernment 
 In the anti-diabolic trick. 
 It raised the fury of old Nick, 
 And eke the sledge to such a pitch. 
 He tried, with arms upon the stretch, 
 To knock down Will ; but by the spell 
 If still upon the anvil fell. 
 
 Thus frustrated, more furious grown. 
 Each blow on anvil now rang down 
 With such appalling vehemence 
 As drove Will near beside his sense.
 
 • 23 
 
 The smithy shakes at every stroke : 
 
 The ground heaves as with earthquake shock: 
 
 The anvil, mid the deafening sound, 
 
 Seems sinking, driven into the ground ; 
 
 Whilst scorching fires flash out, wherein 
 
 With vengeful gestures devils grin. 
 
 So that Will looked to see no less 
 
 Then hell's mouth flaming from the place. 
 
 Seeing no chance of anvil smashing, 
 Nor use to put himself in a passion. 
 The Devil cooled, and wished to treat ; 
 And Will, his overtures to meet. 
 Accepts again the old condition, 
 Seven years' exemption from pervition. 
 At first he meant to make him grant 
 A space far more exhorbitant ; 
 But, frightened by his power's dread proof. 
 Was glad thus well to let him off. 
 
 No change in Will these seven years made 
 He stuck to drink, and to his trade : 
 And at the end, when Satan came. 
 Most punctually his due to claim, 
 The smith was in his smithy, hard 
 At work ; while Beelzebub, prepared,
 
 24 ► 
 
 Lest some new trick was still in store, 
 Eefased to come within the door. 
 But Will looked sad, and eyed the Fiend 
 Like one arrived at his wits' end : 
 Dropped hammer, and did apron doff, 
 No use in keeping hell's sparks off. 
 And with his sullen, guide infernal 
 Set out for realms of pain eternal. 
 
 Now, as they passed the public house 
 "Where 'twas WiU's habit to carouse, 
 Loud rang the sounds of mirth and revel, 
 On which Will thus addressed the Devil. 
 
 "You hear the joys, to which for cleaving, 
 For yom* diy country mine I'm leaving : 
 I've served you well, and served you out 
 Twice." Quoth the Devil, ' ' You have no doubt, 
 But won't again; " and looked most direly : 
 " I mean the two seven years entirely," 
 Quoth Will, " your honor gave me longer ; 
 But now all's past, and you're the stronger : 
 You won't bear malice any way, 
 And not a drink I've had this day ; 
 I'd take just one last parting di'op ; 
 But all my money's in my shop." 
 The Devil on Will a keen look tent, 
 But Will seemed really innocent
 
 25 
 
 Of all intention to deceive, 
 
 And Satan said, " I'd give you leave, 
 
 As it's the last before you go ; 
 
 But have no money to do so." 
 
 Will quick replied, '' If you've no pelf. 
 
 Just into a shilling change yourself, 
 
 As you can do ; then you'll be present 
 
 To see that every thing goes pleasant. 
 
 " I'll do it, since your wish is fervent, 
 And you have been so good a servant ; 
 Take hold of me just where you stand " — 
 Will grasped — a shilliug in his hand. 
 
 Let not our readers here suppose 
 We coin, for so the legend goes ; ^^^ 
 And if it proves, as now we tell 'em, 
 Shillings were current coin o'th realm 
 At that time, hence let spring no schism; 
 It is not an anachronism : 
 And though the fact is past concealing 
 That this was surely a bad shilling. 
 And could not be produced in court 
 To prove the matter we support ; 
 Yet counterfeits will sometimes do 
 To prove the existence of the true; 
 
 B 3
 
 26 
 
 But in this case, 'tis understood, 
 'Twill serve as well as if 'twere good ; 
 For on one point the law is strong, 
 " No gain is had from our own wrong ;" 
 And though the Devil attempted well 
 As counterfeit to evade the spell, 
 Whon into his leather bag Will slid him. 
 It would not serve, and there he did him. 
 
 Will fortunately from the day 
 He'd helped St. Patrick on his way 
 Had never bagged a single stiver, 
 Nor e'er considered a survivor ; 
 His earnings were received and spent, 
 For as they came just so they went : 
 But now the case was altered, having 
 A motive powerful for saving 
 His coin not only, but himself, 
 The moment he had touched the pelf, 
 BCis leather bag at once received it. 
 Whence very quickly he retrieved it, 
 And in repeated strong potations 
 Spent it and eke the Devil's patience. 
 For when Will's turn was served, the Evil 
 One wished to turn again to a Devil, 
 To serve his own ; but all in vain 
 He found that he was bagged again
 
 Confined within a narrow bourne, 
 Where was no room for him to turn ; 
 By circle magical surrounded, 
 And shilling's small cii-cumference bounded. 
 
 ' Tis sad man's courage e'er should flag. 
 And that the Devil e'er left Will's bag : 
 What ill, what mischief and what rapine 
 Have happened since that could not happen, 
 If Will, possessed of coui'age stout. 
 Had never let the Devil out. 
 Eut dissipation forecast marred. 
 And as the Devil pressed him hard, 
 Will from his custody released him. 
 When offered "any terms that pleased him.*' 
 Then quickly vanished the old villain 
 As from the goaler flies a felon. 
 
 Will's habits stuck to him life through. 
 Nor better much, nor worse he grew; 
 But, as he could not live for ever, 
 And as again old Nick came never. 
 Will died one day, while drinking toddy. 
 And off his soul went from the body, 
 Proceeding thi'ough ethereal space, 
 Instinctively to its own place.
 
 28 
 
 No claim had he to go to glory ; 
 And where to look for Purgatory 
 He knew not, so attempted neither, 
 And to a place came worse than either. 
 
 A huge, dim gate before him reared 
 It's dusky archway, that appeared 
 Like cavern mouth, and on it's frame 
 A knocker hung like battering ram. 
 Which seemed to glow, and, on approach 
 Of any, knocked without a touch. 
 Dismal the echoing sounds which broke, 
 Reverberating to the stroke. 
 And from within the infernal sentry 
 Demanded, '^ Who and what claimed entry?" 
 " The blacksmith fi'om the Bog of Allan, 
 A'nt please ye." Instantly appalling 
 Uproar arose and dire alarms ; 
 Loud beat the Devil's drums to arms ; 
 Portcullisses and posterns slammed : 
 Artillery through ramparts rammed : 
 And on the Stygian horizon 
 Fires flashed and ran as if apprizing, 
 Like signal beacons, distant bands. 
 And hell was mustering all hands.
 
 29 
 
 Will waited, horror creeping o'er him, 
 Till hell should break loose to devour him ; 
 To wreak dread vengeance and aU evil 
 For having dared cajole the Devil. 
 
 Ere yet the uproar could abate, 
 Eed flashed the flame— wide flew the gate : 
 Beneath the arch the arch-fiend stood, 
 And with him a vast multitude 
 Of lesser Fiends, in close array 
 And deep, drawn up across the way ; 
 In formidable order formed, 
 As if expecting to be stormed. 
 
 *' Now keep him off! ye Devil's kin, 
 For if you let that fellow in, 
 He'll play the Devil with us all, 
 And in the bottomless pit will fall. 
 This is the knave that nicked my wit, 
 And forged me into a counterfeit: 
 I sat his guest, his helper stood, 
 And laid myself out for his good ; 
 But, sitting, standing, or laid out. 
 His magic mastered me throughout : 
 Once let him pass within hell's gorge, 
 He'll fetters for the furies forge ;
 
 30 
 
 And all the souls, we've toiled so much 
 To obtain, will thus escape our clutch. 
 Ev'n let him find out other cheer : 
 All very fine — lie don't lodge here." ^"^ 
 
 Will, at this unexpected turn, 
 Assumed an air of unconcern ; 
 For had he e'er so hot a mind 
 To sultry quarters, or inclined 
 To insist upon his title to 
 A place within the place of wo, 
 The posture of the enemy 
 Had daunted bolder wight than he ; 
 And so, to put a face as good 
 Upon the matter as he could, 
 He vowed he would not leave the place, 
 His way unable to retrace. 
 Unless they furnished him a light 
 To guide him from the realms of night. 
 
 This declaration had upon 'em 
 So great effect, that Pandemonium 
 Eaised warm debate upon the case, 
 And hot dispute, as fit the place. 
 Ending however in compliance 
 With Wills demand and bold defiance ; 
 And out they pitchforked him a lantern. 
 And which the Blacksmith seized instanter on.
 
 oL 
 
 Then straightway from the crooked way, 
 Bearing his prize, the infernal ray. 
 He swiftly earthward shaped his route 
 As if the Devil was in pursuit — 
 Who had no mind such game to track, 
 Well pleased to see the Blacksmith's back. 
 
 At length, alighting where he could, 
 He tried to reach his old abode ; 
 But found his downward expedition 
 Had so transmogrified his vision. 
 He could not see, unless at night. 
 And only by the Devil's light. 
 Then over marshes' moist meander, 
 And bogs' wet wastes he took to wander, 
 With baffled hope to find his home, 
 But near it cannot ever come, 
 Afforded by his lantern's ray 
 Just light enough to lead astray. 
 Thus, destined till the day of doom 
 To wander in nocturnal gloom. 
 He flits about; and many a one 
 Has seen him and has been undone : 
 And many more will share that fate 
 Before his wanderings terminate.
 
 32 
 
 Some say, that as he, while alive, 
 From moisture did his strength derive, 
 (A wet soul truly from the first) 
 So now, impelled by bui-ning thirst, 
 He seeks these haunts, and di'unkon wights 
 Are prone to follow him o 'nights ; 
 For doubtless 'tis well understood ! 
 They naturally take to mud ; 
 And, wanting ditch wherein to tumble, 
 Will put up with a kennel humble. 
 
 And now the point, or moral edge, 
 Our Legend carries is the '' Pledge ;" 
 Wliich, to avoid impending scath, you 
 Had better take with Father Matthew, 
 Than with the unholy personage 
 "With whom poor "Willie took the pledge ; 
 Who, but for one good work of his, 
 Had been far worse off than he is.
 
 NOTES. 
 
 («) Page 1. " We still call Erin "Little Britain." 
 
 " Little" for " minor" seems a tolerably free translation ; 
 but in. naming our streets the word "little" is used strictly in 
 the sense of "minor." Little Q,ueen Street, for instance, 
 being lesser than Great Q,ueen Street, although itself larger 
 than some distinguished as ^'f/reat'^ and giving the name of 
 "little" to some inferior neighbour. 
 
 (^) Page 7. If by a miracle or two 
 
 The noble deed should have its due . 
 
 The theory of the exercise of miraculous power, in the old 
 legends, seems to be, that the Saints were debarred from it for 
 purposes relating to their personal wants : but could by it 
 reward the attentions of others. 
 
 ('') Page 17. For ever drawn from, yet undrawn, 
 The purse of the shy cluricaune. 
 
 The Cluricaune is a species of fairy who carries a purse to 
 which all the money when spent returns. He is so shy of the 
 eyes of mortals, that if by surprise he can be discovered, he 
 decamps so precipitately as to forget his purse. The lucky 
 mortal may under such circumstances appropriate purse. 
 
 (fl^) Page 25. Let not our readers here suppose 
 We coin, for so the legend goes. 
 
 There is an old book in the British Museum, dedicated to a 
 Bishop of Derry, in which the date of the coining of shillings 
 is stated to be anterior to the time of St. Patrick. 
 
 (-9) Page 30. Ev'n let him find out other cheer : 
 All very fine : he don't lodge here. 
 
 When this work was ^v^itten the above expression was in 
 its popular meridian.
 
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