Adapted from the Irish of "An Seabhac" in "An Baile Seo \'Gainn-ne."

There had been a big week\'s work in the forge, and Ned M\'Grane, the blacksmith, had got a present of a whole pound of tobacco from his nephew in Dublin, and on account of these two happenings he was in the very best of humour, so we decided that the time was ripe for a story. We hadn\'t had such a treat from Ned for weeks past, so there was an edge on our appetite for one of his unrivalled stories that pleasant evening as we sat and smoked in the smithy.

"The like of it was never known in history before," said Joe Clinton, suddenly, with a challenging glance towards Bartle Nolan, who started as if he didn\'t expect the statement, and as if it hadn\'t been carefully planned beforehand at the Milking Field gate!

"Ach, nonsense, man!" said Bartle, with a withering look at Joe. "D\'ye mean to say that there ever was an age or a century or a period o\' history that women weren\'t kickin\' up their heels about somethin\' or other an\' wantin\' to boss the whole show. Why, the thing is out of all reason!" finished Bartle, with a fine show of indignation.

"All the same I think Joe is right," said Tom[Pg 86] M\'Donnell. "I don\'t believe they ever carried things as far as to want to have votes an\' seats on public boards, an\' to be equal to the men in everythin\'. I don\'t think anyone ever heard before of a woman goin\' that far with the game."

"What\'s that, Tom?" said Ned, who had just thrust about two ounces of his store of tobacco into old Phil Callaghan\'s hand in a covert sort of way, and was now quietly teasing a pipeful for himself. "What is it you were talkin\' about?"

"O, we were just discoursin\', Ned, about them suffragettes an\' the row they\'re makin\' about gettin\' votes an\' the like o\' that. Joe was sayin\' that such a thing as a rumpus about equal rights between man an\' woman was never known of in history before in any country in the world, an\' some of us didn\'t agree with him. What do you say yourself, Ned?"

Ned teased the tobacco for a few moments in a dreamy manner that seemed hopeful, and then he looked thoughtfully at Joe Clinton.

"Would it surprise you to hear, Joe," he said at last, "that such a rumpus an\' such a row as you speak about took place in this very townland o\' Balnagore?"

We all laughed at Joe\'s confusion as he said sheepishly, "It would, indeed, Ned," and then Ned\'s eyes twinkled triumphantly.

Then we knew that we had carried our little scheme to success, and we waited as patiently and as quietly as we could while Ned filled and lighted his pipe. At last he spoke:

[Pg 87]

"It\'s forty year ago an\' more since it happened, Joe, an\' indeed it wasn\'t the woman was to blame at all, but the crankiest, contrariest, crossest old codger of a man that ever sat on a stool, and that was Dickey Moran that lived there below in the hollow, where Jimmy Kearney is livin\' now. An\' if every woman conducted her fight for a vote as cleverly as Peggy Moran conducted hers for peace an\' quietness there \'d be a lot more respect an\' support for them than there is. But what \'d be the use of advisin\' a woman? You might as well be tryin\' to catch eels with a mousetrap.

"Dickey an\' Peggy were only a couple o\' years married when she began to find out that he wasn\'t altogether as sweet as he used to be, an\' from that time on until she played her trump card she never had an easy day with him. This wasn\'t done right, an\' that was all wrong, an\' who showed her how to boil a pig\'s pot, an\' where did she learn to make stirabout, an\' forty other growls that nearly put the poor woman out of her wits. An\' what used to annoy her the most of all was that Dickey (he was fifteen years older than her) never stopped complainin\' about all he had to do in the fields an\' on the bog, an\' about the little Peggy had to do in the house—a child buildin\' a babby-house \'d have more to do, he used to say, an\' then he\'d put a whinin\' rigmarole out of him about the way men had themselves wore to nothin\' to keep a bit an\' a sup with lazy women, an\' so on, an\' so on, until poor Peggy couldn\'t stand it any longer, an\' she\'d turn on him an\' say things that \'d make Dickey twist like an eel an\' feel when the shindy \'d[Pg 88] be over that he was after gettin\' more than he bargained for, an\' a few rattlin\' fine sharp wallops o\' Peggy\'s tongue thrown in for luck.

"Well, it had to get worse or stop altogether, and the surprisin\' part was that the two things happened at the same time.

"It happened one mornin\' that Dickey was in an odious bad humour entirely, an\' he goin\' about the house with a face on him as long as a late breakfast an\' as sharp as a razor, an\' every growl out of him like a dog over a bone or a fox in a trap. He was tryin\' to light the fire, but the turf was too wet, an\' the draught was comin\' the wrong way, an\' accordin\' as his temper got strong his tongue turned on poor Peggy, who was givin\' a bottle to the child in the cradle—it was only seven months old at the time—an\' she was sayin\' nothin\' at all, but there was a quare sort of a look in her eye that all as one as said that her mind was made up. Dickey was gettin\' worse an\' worse with his growlin\' about all that men had to do an\' the lazy ways of women an\' what not, but all of a sudden, when he wasn\'t mindin\', Peggy caught a grip of his arm in a way that made him jump, an\' says she, in the voice of a County Court Judge givin\' sentence, says she:

"\'Let there be an end to this comparin\' an\' growlin\' an\' grumblin\' once an\' for all, Dickey Moran! You say men are run off their feet an\' that women have nothin\' to do. Well, here\'s the way to settle that. You stay here in the house an\' do what\'s to be done in it, an\' I\'ll look after the turf an\' the praties an\' oats an\' things out in the fields, an\' we\'ll soon see who[Pg 89] has the most to do. That\'s the only way to put an end to your aggravatin\' talk forever an\' a day.\'

"An\' Dickey bein\' in the temper he was in, agreed on the minute, an\' they took their bit o\' breakfast without another word, an\' when it was down, Peggy tied her shawl round her shoulders an\' gripped hold of an old reapin\' hook that was hangin\' on the wall an\' started off to cut the bit of oats in the far field, an\' Dickey sat down at the fire to have a pull o\' the pipe before startin\' the child\'s play, as he called the work that had to be done in the house.

"When Peggy was gone a couple o\' minutes she came back an\' put her head in at the door, an\' says she in a quiet an\' easy way, as if she was only biddin\' her man good mornin\':

"\'Listen here,\' says she, \'the cow is in the byre still, an\' it\'s time she was milked. An\' don\'t forget to take every drop from her or it\'s milk fever she\'ll be havin\' one o\' these days. An\' put a few handfuls o\' poreens on the fire for the pigs an\' give them to th............