Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna199 Manuscript Part Three English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna199 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna199_0.jpg LHL Archive PART lll Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:00 779 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna200 Manuscript Ravara, Herriot English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna200 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna200_0.jpg LHL Archive 193 Chapter One Ravara National School, presided over by Master Herriot, was a one-storyed, whitewashed building, rather like a long cottage, separated from the road by a bald pebbled close. An engraved stone above the door bore the words ’Ravara National School 1832’ and the building, both inside and out, showed little evidence of change in its eighty years. The school itself was one large room in the middle of which sat an american stove, thrusting its sooty tail like a petrified monster through the raftered ceiling. A. large map of Ireland, as yellow and glossy as a pippin, hung at the head of the room, and the other walls were hidden under a foliage of bibical pictures, charts showing the innards of people who drank alcohol, calenders, and fluttering specimens of ’copperplate; all held together by branches and running tendrils of finger marks, imprinted there by scholars who now husbanded the fields in the townlands or were incised names in the graveyards. Around the stove the various groups of scholars clustered in circles, hollow squares and rows, receiving in turn the attention of Mr Herriot or his assistant, generally an older scholar, who, for some reason or other had been permitted to stay another few months at the school. Here, from nine o’clock in the morning until three o'clock in the afternoon, the children were instructed in the rudiments of reading, writing and arithmetic, and a system of geography that still contained some pleasant echoes of myth. But these bare essentials of an articulate animal were considered sufficient for the life of gin agricultural community. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:00 780 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna201 Manuscript School, Children English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna201 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna201_0.jpg LHL Archive 194 At noon the school broke for lunch, which, for most of the scholars was the large buttered farl of wheaten or soda bread that they carried with their books in their oilcloth satchels. Master Herriot left the school to walk to his lodgings in a neighbouring farmer’s, and as he walked through the shouting, tumbling children he would play fully ruffle a little girl's hair here, or there hook the ball of a boy's toe and dribble it skilfully up the road followed by a rabble of gleeful boys shouting 'Hi, Mester! Here, Mester!' Half-an-hour later he would come down the road again and this was a signal for the children to make their way into the close before the school and form into a straggling line. Then to the muted beat of a bell they would stamp noisily into their classes for the second period of the day. At half-past two the 'infants' were released from school to be followed, by the older children, Ravara School, catering as it did for a large area of the surrounding countryside, contained scholars from a number of townlands, and these gathered in neighbourly clans and parted from each other amid shouts and counter- snouts until they lost sight of each other on the white dusty road. Among the children who turned down into the heart of Ravara townland was a tail fairheaded boy of about twelve who was among the leaders of those who went rambling off the road on various escapades, hunting goats in the paddocks, or stealing beans and sweet red carrots from the fields. Now and then he would throw a word or two to a girl about five years his junior, and from the way in which he slewed her satchel round and rummaged in it for a ball, it was plain that there Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 781 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna202 Manuscript Martha, Sampson English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna202 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna202_0.jpg LHL Archive 195 was a relationship between them, although neither in colouring nor cast of features was there any resenblance. As they reached the brow of a hill, the drumming of a heavy engine vibrated in the air, and rising above the trees about half-a-mile away, the children saw a dark feather of smoke. "The thesher's up at your place, Andra Echlinl!" a boy cried. The fairhaired boy strained his ears to catch the sound. "Aye, so it is!" he said. "Come on Martha, hurry up!" and he thrust the ball into his sister's satchel, caught her by the hand, and hurried her along the road. To those of his companions who had kept up with him, young Echlin pointed to where the loanen bank had been broken down by the tread of the tractor's wheel. Then he ran down the loanen, dragging his sister by the hand, until they came in sight of the thresher. Fainted red, blue and gold, with ornate scrolls carved in its frame, it sat at right angles to the last stretch of the loanen that led uphill to the farm. A great load of gleaming straw which clouded out over the cart and the hindquarters of the horse was just drawing away from the noisy dusty scene. The driver, his feet braced on the shafts, was half-hidden in the straw. Andrew waved his hand excitedly to him. "Hello, Frank!" he shouted. The driver turned his yellow, wasted face slowly and looked at the boy in a vacant way before he nodded. Then he lashed the horse up the field track, leaving a free passage for the carts laden with sheaves that came rumblinf down the loanen. Petie Sampson was forking up sheaves to Sarah who stood on the thresher platform. She loosed the bands and handed the corn to Hamilton who splayed it out expertly on the rollers until it vanished into the rumbling puffing interior. The shrill cries of the children Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 782 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna203 Manuscript Grain, Nightfall English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna203 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna203_0.jpg LHL Archive 196 failed to penetrate the uproar of the machinery, and it was not until Sarah caught Hamilton’s wink and nod that she knew they were there. She leaned down and funnelled her mouth with her hands, "Away up and Agnes'll get ye your dinner - and then ye can come down and give a hand here!" . The boy nodded, but delayed to thrust his foot into the rising pile of grain below the machine. Martha stood back in the hedge with her hands over her ears, gazing at the panting monster, and watching the patched ancient belt bouncing between the wheels, The boy glanced up to see his mother’s angry face, and although her words were inaudable, he grasped his sister's hand again, and hurried up the loanen. Sarah, in answer to the shout of the man beside her, tore off another band hastily and thrust the sheaf towards him. The machine gave a dry empty roar until again it felt the golden straw and heavy heads among its rollers. Martha and Andrew paid little attention to their dinner, and in less than ten minute's time they were back among the threshers. Andrew was quickly absorbed into the work, and his sister, much to his jealous anger, immediately began to play with the cone of grain rising on a canvas sheet below the machine. But he attracted his mother's attention to the girl and she was driven away. By speeding up they managed to thresn two of the stacks by nightfall, and then the tired band of workers with ropes, bags and baskets on rheir arms, went up to the farm. Martha had been sent to bed long ago, but xxxx Andrew rode up the soft bumping field track with Petie. Agnes had supper ready for them when they arrived. Seven spoons, four silver, three horn, lay at equal distance on the scrubbed table. When the men and the boy were seated, Sarah and Agnes filled out plates of thick tripe soup with whole potatoes floating in it. Andrew sat listening drowsily to the engine-man Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 783 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna204 Manuscript Threshing, Signal English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna204 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna204_0.jpg LHL Archive 197 telling Hamilton and Frank about their neighbours' threshing, and the difficulty he had moving the cumbersome machinery from one farm to another. The boy crumbled his buttered farl while he watched the others lift the white cushions of bread between their dark, work-stained fingers, caught the glimpse of teeth as they opened their mouths and engulfed the bread, and fell asleep, lulled by their blurred and floury speech. It was the signal for everyone to go. Petie and Agnes left with the engine-man who was to sleep in the loft over the potato-house. "We've an early day the morra," said Hamilton, standing up and stretching himself with a yawn. He turned out the lamp and ran it up to the polished ceiling. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 784 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna205 Manuscript School, Mother English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna205 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna205_0.jpg LHL Archive 198 Chapter Two The next morning, when the children awoke, the threshed was already at work, and the heavy beat of the engine came to them through the clear morning air. They arose quickly and in a few minutes were padding around barefoot in the kitchen. Sarah smiled to herself as she noticed that ANdrew ate his porridge slowly, staring into the fire, and twirling his bare toes together. '’Come on, Andra," she said. "You'll be late for school." "I'm no going to scnool," answered the boy, raising his heed in a surprised manner, as though his mother should have understood that he must stay at home, today of all days. "And me too'." cried Martha beating her plate with her porridge spoon. "You're baith going to school," said Sarah. "Now, no nonsense," she added sharply, as she saw her son's face darken. "Ye were kept at home for the hay and the praties. Ye canna afford to miss any more schooling - or ye'll no be able to read ava. That's enough from you, miss!" continued the mother, stifling a protest from the little girl. "If you've finished your tea, go and put on your boots. It's time ye were out o' here." Reluctantly the children left the table, but now that they knew there was no further chance of a holiday the fear of another authority and the punishment for being late urged them to hurry. Sarah had made up their lunch parcels and as she tucked one into each satchel she said "the threshing'll be done by the time you're back." Andrew ran down to the corner of the house. The sight of the two empty stack-stands and the third stack with its head broken to the eaves, confirmed his mother's words. Slowly he returned to where his mother and sister Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 785 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna206 Manuscript Loanen, Thresher English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna206 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna206_0.jpg LHL Archive 199 stood. Sarah kissed both the children before they left. AS she bent over Andrew she said "Get all the schooling ye can son.Some day you’ll get mair threshing than ye want." The boy looked into her face gloomily, as if doubting her word. As the children approached the thresher everyone around it seemed to be serving it feverishly. Even the hedges of the loanen they walked between were hung with straw, as if they wore aprons to help with the work. Martha ran ahead to stare at the dancing belt and the tireless piston of the steam engine. Hugh followed slowly, kicking at the stones on the loanen. He thrust a leg into the rising cone of grain until his boot and stocking were covered and he was standing knee-deep in the hard white corn. He heard Martha calling him, and turning saw her, feet pressed together, standing at some distance from the thresher. "Stand here," she said "close." He put his feet close to hers and felt a tremor run up his back. They were standing on a spine of whins tone on which the tractor was set, end it pulsated like a piece of the engine. Martha’s red cheeks were vibrating, and she opened her mouth small to let her teeth chatter. "I’m a chitty-wren!“ she shouted. "You’re daft," said Andrew, and without another look at the machine he turned and ran down the loanen to the road. That day the boy's deafness seemed to grow worse. It may have been the unusual volume of noise at the threshing, or because he had slept uneasily the night before. That always made him deaf the following day. By the midday break the voices of his schoolmates had became high-pitched notes without meaning to his ear. When he went back into school he kept head close to his work so that none of his neighbours could talk to him. But as the school hummed and drowsed through the warm Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 786 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna207 Manuscript Herriot, Deer English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna207 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna207_0.jpg LHL Archive 200 autumn afternoon, Master Hierriot grew thirsty. He looked over the class before him and his eye rested on Andrew, the nearest boy. "Andrew," he said, go into the Master’s house and bring me a glass of water." as he tossed Andrew the key his eyes wandered away’ from the boy’s face to the window. The thud of the key on his copy book roused Andrew. The words that Herriot had spoken had been meaningless to him but he knew that he had been ordered to do something. His eyes followed Herriot's to the window as he struggled desperately to interpret the words, below the window was a press that held a pile of unframed, slates used by the older boys and girls for dictation and arithmetic.. Andrew got up and went over to the press and tried to insert the heavy key in the lock of the press. At that, a wave of laughter rose behind him in a shrill squeal. He turned and found Mr Herriot’s eyes fixed on him. "."Were you dozing, boy?" asked the Master. Again Andrew strained madly to catch what the man was saying. "Yes," he replied. Another squeal of laughter rose from the class and a puzzled and angry frown came on Herriot’s face. He stepped down from the little platform behind his desk, cane in hand . "Go in now, like a good lad, and bring the water from the house," he said slowly. Andrew stared at him for a moment, his face white with fear and deperation. Suddenly he threw down the key and raising his clenched fists beat them against his ears. "I’m deef!" he shouted, "deef, deef, deef’. ” He turned and ran out of the school and the startled and silent children heard the thud of his feet receding over the pebbled close. At a slower pace Herriot followed the runaway. The faint breeze lifted his tired sandy hair as he steed on the step, looking up and down the road, beyond the school wall he glimpsed a blue jersey passing Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 787 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna208 Manuscript Pipe, Martha English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna208 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna208_0.jpg LHL Archive 201 a gap in the hedge. He hurried down to the road and called on the boy, but he did not look back and soon disappeared from the schoolmaster's view. That evening, after six-o'clock tea, Herriot put on his hat and set out for Rathard. The soft still evening light lay gently on the fields and Herriot noted with pleasure that the last of the corn was being moved to the stackyards as he ascended and descended the little hills on the white road. As he turned up the loanen leading to Hathard he noted the banks torn and stamped by the toothed wheels of the tractor, and that the new ruts in the loanen had been already metalled. He was curious to see the strange household about which he had heard so many rumours. Under his arm he carried Andrew's tattered school. bag. As he approached the farm he heard the boy's voice call 'wheet-wheet! wheet-wheet!' and saw the bobbing line of ducks come at his bidding, but the boy himself was hidden by the rowans at the mouth of the close. Herriot slowed his pace so that he wouldn't over- take the ducks, and following behind them, came suddenly face to face with Andrew. He saw the look of sullen fear that came on the boy's face but he smiled pleasantly as he handed over the schoolbag. "There you are, Andrew, you forgot that in your hurry today." Then the schoolmaster pushed his tweed hat back on his head and took out his pipe. He nodded across the loanen. "Your ducks'll be wandering again," he said. At that moment the little girl Martha burst out of the house, followed by a dog. She stopped short when she saw Herriot, and stood with her finger to her mouth, eyeing him warily. Herriot welcomed the interruption. "Hello, Martha" he called "So this is where you live?7" Attracted by the sound of the strange voice Sarah appeared in the Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 788 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna209 Manuscript Schoolbag, Habit English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna209 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna209_0.jpg LHL Archive 202 doorway of the dwelling-house, wiping her hands on her apron. Martha backed towards her, still watching Mr. Herriot, and Andrew, realising that the trouble ahead could not be averted, went off after his truant ducks. Herriot touched his hat and went forward. "I'm the master - Mr Herriot. You're Andrew's mother?" Sarah nodded, watching him carefully as her daughter had done. "You're welcome," she said "Wont ye come in?" Herriot thanked her and entered the kitchen. "I brought back Andrew's schoolbag, He left it behind him." As the woman did not speak he continued: "I asked Martha if this was where she lived - but she's lost her tongue." The master smiled. "You wouldn't think it was the same girl at school." Sarah glanced at her daughter and entered into Herriot's jocular mood. "I'm sure she's a right nuisance at times to ye." The man demurred and then said: "I'd like a word with you, Mrs Echlin." "Martha," said her mother, "away out and help Andrew house the ducks." When the girl had left the house Sarah turned enquiringly to the schoolmaster. "Please sit down," she said, drawing forward a chair. "Mrs Echlin," began Herriot, "do you know that Andrew ran away from school today? "No," he added, as he noticed the expression on her face. "The blame doesn't lie with the boy." "Oh, who's to blame then?" asked Sarah, bridling at his words. "I dont know - perhaps no one. But Andrew's going deaf. Bid you know that?" She wound her hands in her apron, a habit of hers when she was worried. "I knew he was a bit deef at times. Still and all, he can hear well enough when he wants." Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 789 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna210 Manuscript Master, Dumb English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna210 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna210_0.jpg LHL Archive 205 "Maybe,” said, the master. "But there was no pretence today. He broke down - and I was wondering were you doing anything about it." "Ach, he gets hummings and drummings in his ears, but they come and go wi' the weather. Anyway, what can ye do about things like that?" "Well, you could take him to a doctor, and if his hearing is really threatened, there's a special school in Belfast to treat children like that." "He doesn't need any more schooling. He's near thirteen now, and Mr Echiin was just saying t'other day that it was time the lad was brought home -" "I dont think you understand me, Mrs Echlin," Herriot said, interrupting her. "I know Andrew will soon be staying at home, but it was his ear trouble I was thinking about. Believe me" he continued earnestly, "There's nothing more tragic than the loss of hearing. We look on blind people and dumb people with pity and admiration when they make the best of their disability, but a deaf man is a dead man, for we always leave him out of our reckoning." He stood up and lifted his hat. "I hope you'll see your way to doing something about Andrew, anyway." Sarah appeared to be considering his words. 'Well" she said, "I'll see what Mr Echlin says." as she followed Herriot to the door she added. "But the boy'll soon be leaving school, and deafness will be no hindrance to him working on the land. But thank ye all the same, Mr Herriot." "That's all right. I just thought I'd better let you know," and touching his hat to her, the master left the farm. Later that evening, when they had all gathered in, Andrew watched his mother apprehensively. She laid his Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 790 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna211 Manuscript Schoolmaster, Slouched English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna211 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna211_0.jpg LHL Archive 204 schoolbag on the dresser and crossing to the fireplace, lifted down the tea-caddy. She busied herself with infusing the tea before she spoke. "Master Herriot was here the-day," she said at last. Hamilton lowered his paper. "Aye, and what did he want?" "He was here to tell us that Andra was going deef." "And what does he want us to do?" queried the man. "Buy him new lugs?" Little Martha giggled and Andrew smiled and lowered his eyes timidly. But although the schoolmaster's visit had been dismissed in this manner, when bedtime came Sarah called the boy to her when he had undressed. She examined his ears and then heated a little oil in a spoon and ran it into each ear. For several seconds the lad stood with his head tilted to one side, his eyes moving from his mother to Hamilton, and there was such an expression of anxious hope in his look that it arrested Hamiltoh's attention. "Well? Well?" burst from Sarah, sharply, impatiently. The timid unhappy smile came on the boy's face again. He shook his head. "The bizzing's still there," he said. Hamilton slouched back in his chair, lit his cold pipe and spat in the fire. "Go tae your bed, son, " said Sarah. When the boy had left them the couple by the fire sat silent for a time. Then Hamilton knocked out his pipe and stood up. "It's a quare thing the deafness," he said, "ye canna see it tae get at it." Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 791 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna212 Manuscript School, Frank English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna212 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna212_0.jpg LHL Archive 205 Chapter Three The apparent indifference of Sarah and Hamilton to Andrew's deafness, and the scant regard they gave to Mr Harriot's advice, arose from neither indifference nor miserliness. Sarah had voiced the real reason when she told the schoolmaster that it was high time that Andrew left school and started his life work on the farm, a man can till and scatter the seed and reap even though his ears are dulled. Wasn't Frank with his twisted body and slow stumbling step a greater man now, than any creature who could only win a few rags from his tiny fields to cover his ox-like body? The original farm of Hathard had spread in a series of swift outrushs. By judicious purchases, several small neighbouring farms had been absorbed, and the Echlin property had moved forward and spread out like a pool that overflows and gathers at some small impediment, only waiting to gather strength and flood into another little man's few acres. When Sarah went out in those grey unwakened mornings, scratching herself and yawning, there was nothing she loved better than to isolate those fields, trees, loanens and roofs that had passed into the hands of her and her men. When she had released the fowl, she would lean on the eave of the henhouse, indifferent to the river of eager feathered creatures that swirled past her ankles, and con the familiar fields again. "All ours - all ours!" Ah, there were strong men and women wanted now in Rathard! Strong men and women. Not men with twisted backs.... But that had solved something too. Something of great importance. Frank was slipping further and further back Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 792 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna213 Manuscript Father, Time English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna213 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna213_0.jpg LHL Archive 206 into the shadows of Rathard. Everything was silent and blind about him now, except his groans at night as he lay in his single bed, and the implacable hostility of his eyes when he watched Sarah. But on her side was the strong unbroken man and the growing lad. No one could dispute Hamilton as her husband and as father to the children. He would have been the better man of the two, even if Frank had not wandered away from her and got himself broken. When a woman is forty and the faint colour that time has left on her face and bones is burned into her body like enamel, what does it matter if a man is clumsy and uncouth when they were alone? Time had solved many problems for her, it would solve that one too. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 793 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna214 Manuscript Townland, Andrew English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna214 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna214_0.jpg LHL Archive 207 Chapter Four In the farm-houses scattered through the townlands, Sarah was known as Mrs Echlin. To the older generation her story had lost its savour; and what profit was there in retelling an old story against a strong family like the Ehchlins? There may have been little change among the names of the old-established families. The Ogles, Bourkes, Fentlands, Gomartins,Arts, Gilmores, Purdys were still thriving, but an old residenter was cut down with each harvest, and birth, marriage and litigation had changed the families in the farms. One of the last threads that bound Sarah to her past was Agnes Sampson. Since those early unhappy days at Rathard Sarah had discussed all her problems with the woman on Knocknadreemally hill. But a day came when she lost her old friend. It happened about six months after Andrew had left school. One grey March afternoon as he was brerding a gap in the hedge near the road, he saw Petie trotting down the hill as fast as his old legs would carry him. When he heard the boy chopping in the hedge he stopped and called on him. "Andray Andra, son’. Run for your mother and tell her Agnes is gey ill!" "Is she very badly, Petie?" "Aye, she's very badly. Now dont delay, like a good lad, but fetch Sarah." "Will I yoke the pony and go to the dispensary for the doctor, Petie?" the boy asked eagerly. "Ach, you know what Agnes is about doctoras! Now, like a good son - or will I hae to go mysel?" Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 794 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna215 Manuscript Sofa, March English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna215 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna215_0.jpg LHL Archive 208 Ihe boy did not wait lor a second bidding, but fled up the hil to Hathard. Old Petie turned and hurried back to his cottage. Agnes lay on the horsehair sola her breath coming heavily from between her dark lips, Petie raised her head and wiped her mouth with a cloth. "Sarah'11 be here in a minute," he said "Is there anything I can get ye?" At the sound of his voice, she raised her eyes to aim, her lips moving soundlessly. At the sight of the woman who had nursed and protected him for so many years, now unable to help herself, Petie broke into sobs, and falling on his knees, buried his face in her skirt. The dying woman groped blindly until she found, and laid her hands comfortingly, on his bowed head. The effort seemed to calm her, for she lat still, until her husband, gently disengaging her hand, arose, and went out see if Sarah, was coming. But the glimmering bowl of the road lay grey and silent. A sudden March shower had fallen, and then swept away across the darkening hills. From every twig the sullen little drops crept down to feed the tumbling trinket that suddenly found voice in the roots of the hedge. Slowly the old man entered the house and lowered the kettle on the crane to bring it to the boil, as though there would come seme moment when water would be called for, to bring relief to Agnes. Then he dragged a cutty-stool to the side of the sofa and taking his dying wife's hand between his own, sat with his back turned stubbornly to the siient door and the waning light. Then suddenly he heard the quick step of Sarah on the flat stones outside the door. She entered hurriedly, peering into the gloom of the cottage. "What's ailing her, Petie?" she asked. The old man stood up, shaking his head helplessly. "Andra's away in the cart for the doctor," continued Sarah, as she raised Agnes's head to Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 795 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna216 Manuscript Rafters, Rathard English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna216 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna216_0.jpg LHL Archive 209 place a cushion under it. The grey hair of the woman, unloosed from its fastening, streamed down onto the floor. At the sight of it, Petie turned away, wringing his hands. "Come on now, Petie, like a good man," said Sarah drawing a small bottle from her pocket, "get me a clean spoon 'til I give her a ixa sup o' this whiskey." as she spoke the woman on the sofa gave a great sigh. Petie stumbled across the room and bent over her. "She's dead!" he cried. "Oh, Agnes, Agnes, dont leave me!" He fell on the floor beside the sofa saying over and over again: "Oh my God, what'll become o' me now - what'll become o' me now?" After she had raised the old man to a chair, Sarah got out linen, and as she was binding Agnes's head, Andrew arrived with the doctor. The doctor was familiar with the dead woman's reputation and he gave a gesture of impatience as he brushed aside a bunch of herbs dangling from the rafters, but he laid his hand sympathetically enough on Petie's drooping shoulder. There was little he could do, and after a word or two with Sarah, he left, Andrew driving him away. With the tottering help of old Petie, Sarah carried the dead woman into the bedroom, where she washed her and laid her out. She finished alone, for Petie had sunk into his rope-bottomed chair, and sat staring into the fire. She tidied the room and went up into the kitchen. "I'll send Andra down to bide wi' ye the-night, Petie," she said. The old man shook his head. "I'll stay alone wi' her the-night," he replied. Bidding him goodnight, Sarah left the cottage and set off wearily for Rathard. At the top of the loanen she turned and looked down on the countryside. The Spring dusk was thickening on the fields, and in the hollows of the little hills the trees stood like grey pencil strokes. Here and there over the townlands lights winked up in the darkness but she could see no light gleaming from Knocknadreemally. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 796 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna217 Manuscript Frank, Hamilton English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna217 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna217_0.jpg LHL Archive 210 Chapter Five As Andrew and Martha grew up, Frank found less work to do in the fields, and spent most of his waking day in the barns and byres but rarely in the house, for he was obsessed with the idea that Sarah wanted him out of the way. And so he made jobs for himself, that he might still claim some part in the life of the farm. Many times Hamilton had asked him to relinquish his work, assuring him that he, more than anyone, could rest and take it easy. "D'ye say rest?" Frank turned his face up to his brother who leaned over the half-door of the mealshed, watching him draw a waxend through a broken fragment of harness, "Rest, and let that witch fault me for doing no work about the place?" He rose and shambled over to the door, Putting his face close to his brother's he whispered: "That's where she wants me, ye know." He pointed to the ground, winked, put a finger to his lips, and shambled back to his stool. Hamilton stood silent for a moment. "What the hell are ye blethering about, man?" he said. Frank looked up, smiled twistedly, and nodded. "I'm telling you" he added. Hamilton kicked the half-door open, strode in, and stood over his brother. "What witch - what d'ye mean?" Frank dropped the harness from his hands, hands still lean and brown and finely shaped. He raised his face to his brother with a child- like smile. Slowly Hamilton laid his hands on the misshapen shoulders and sank down on his kness beside Frank. "Frankie boy, are we bad to ye? Are we hasty in the tongue wi' ye, at times? God knows, Frankie, but we dont mean to be, we dont mean to be." Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 797 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna218 Manuscript Broken, Shed English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna218 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna218_0.jpg LHL Archive 211 Frank laid a finger gently on his brother's cheek. Some of the tenderness of his young manhood shone in his eyes. "We? You're close knit, aren't ye, Hami? There's no splitting ye." "The three o' us, Frankie," Hamilton mumbled. "The three o' us is woven througnother." HE felt frank draw away from him and saw the sidelong furtive glance of his eyes. "That's a lie. I'm no part of ye now. I'm not woven intae this place. I'm the broken reed wi' the withered pith." Hamilton tried to draw his brother to him again, but Frank held him off, turning his face away from the man kneeling beside him. "I'll have none o’ ye. I sinned onct, and God chastised me. Now I know I maun save another from sinning." Hamilton stood up and pulled the crippled man round to face him. "Who'll ye save, frank?" he asked harshly. "I'll say no more," answered the other, pushing his hand from his shoulder. For some time Hamilton stood gazing at his brother's back. Frank had lifted the piece of harness on to the top of some bags of Indian corn at the end wall, and was fumbling at it in the gloom of the shed. Hamilton knew that his brother couldn't see what was in his hand, and for some reason the thought made him afraid. "Come out into the light, Frank," he said "Come out into the light, man." "I want no light for what I'm doing," answered the man in the gloom. Hamilton retreated to the door, and lifting a straw, drew it thoughtfully through his teeth. "Aye, by God, maybe you're speaking an honest word at that," he said at last, and left the shed, closing the half-door after him. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 798 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna219 Manuscript Field, Children English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna219 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna219_0.jpg LHL Archive 212 He saw Sarah coming up from the well in the lough field, her body straight and taut between the two lipping buckets held away from her skirt by a wooden hoop. As she stepped unsteadily on the rutted track little silver fringes of water leapt out from the buckets and fell on the earth. He walked slowly across the close and down the track and seated himself on the stone dyke. Sarah put down the buckets with a sigh of relief and rubbed her numb fingers. "It's fine to see the gentry taking the air on a summer's day," she said. Hamilton's lips curved in a smile, then he crooked his finger for her to come nearer. "Sarah, tell me, have ye noticed Frank talking ower much to Andra or the wee girl?" "For why?" Hamilton raised his hand. "I only asked ye a question. Have ye, or have ye no?" "Nothing more nor ordinary." "All right, then. Now, there's nothing to be feard of," he added, noticing the uneasiness on the woman's face. "Frank had just been acting a wee bit odd, of late." "Aye, odder than ye think. He attended Ravara Meeting-House last Sunday. That's where he was in the trap." Hamilton's face lit up. "B'God, I'm glad to hear that! He's welcome to it, if it gives him any comfort, for the cratur has had a wicked time of it, wi' that back o' his. Aye, he's welcome to it." "Aye," echoed Sarah, but her expression was not one of agreement. Hamilton stepped into the hoop and swung the buckets up lightly in his fingers. But he was silent as they made their way towards the farmhouse. He hadn't told Sarah what was uppermost in his mind, and now his loyalty to his brother was struggling with his loyalty to Sarah and the children. ,When they reached the gate into the close he put down the buckets and Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 799 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna220 Manuscript Sarah, Garden English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna220 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna220_0.jpg LHL Archive 213 and turned to the woman. "Sarah, I want no more said about this - but, if ye see Frank - kind of - telling the weans things - I dont mean wicked things - but things that might scald their hearts -" Sarah laughed, but their was a tender note in her voice when she spoke: "Hami, why do ye say one thing and think another? You're feard that now Frank has got the religion he might take the notion to tell Andrew or Martha about - us?" "Aye! Aye, that's it!" burst out Hamilton more stirred and troubled when he heard his innermost fear spoken aloud. "Sarah, we've been good to the wee ones, haven't we? They've naught tae reproach us wi' have they?" He watched her with fear and anxiety. At that moment Martha jumped from the corner of the barn and shouted loudly to frighten them. Sarah opened her arms and cried: "Come, my wee lamb!" The girl flew across the close, nutbrown, lithe, beautiful, and sprang into her mother's arms. "I scairt ye, didn't I? I scairt ye!" she shouted, hiding her face in her mother's neck. "Aye, dearie, ye scairt us," answered Sarah, folding her arms passionately around the child. Hamilton lifted the buckets and followed them into the house. One evening later, Sarah was weeding in the rath garden. A hush lay on the farm disturbed only by the belling of a dog on the shore and the thud of Andrew's spade beyond the earthwork where he widened a trinket of water to make another pond for the ducks. His elders had advised him against it, but he was unheeding, and the rich-smelling soil, the fragrance of the garden, and the calmness of the evening, bred in Sarah a lazy contentment with whatever her son did. Suddenly she heard a low sibilant whistle from beyond the blackthorn Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 800 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna221 Manuscript Frank, Hedge English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna221 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna221_0.jpg LHL Archive 214 hedge to her left, and then Frank’s voice calling quitely ’Andra! Hi, Andra!" She raised her head over the screen of daisies and saw Andrew looking over his shoulder expectantly. Frank called again and she watched the boy drop his spade and walk round the rig of the field beyond the rath. Creeping stealthly across the garden she peered through the hedge. Frank had climbed up through the young corn and was seated on a tumbled mound of the rath in such a way that she could clearly see his face. The boy stood before him, waiting for the man to speak. 8"Aye, Frank? Ye called me?" "I called ye son, I wanted a word wi’ ye." The boy waited obediently before the man, but as the seconds dragged past in silence, stirred and glanced impatiently over his shoulder. "I wanted tee - " Frank halted again and Sarah saw the mounting resolve in his eyes. She tensed herself to break through the hedge when to her amazement Frank caught the boy to him and burst into tears. "My wee son!" he cried "My wee son!" She saw Andrew look round in distress, and then lay a soothing hand on the bowed head of the cripple. She crept down from the hedge, and stole back across the garden, as silently as she had come. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 801 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna222 Manuscript Knocknadreemally, Nightshirt English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna222 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna222_0.jpg LHL Archive 215 Chapter Six A girl of about sixteen years of age wheeled her bicycle out of the loanen leading to Rathard, and crossing carefully to the other side of the road, pointed the front wheel to Knocknadreemally Hill. She didnt mount immediately but stood looking at the bicycle with obvious satisfaction. It was brand-new. The spokes and rims twinkled in the sunlight as she let it run forward, and the black and yellow strings of the dress-guard were as taut and clean as harp-strings. She pushed it a little faster and put on the front brake. When the back wheel rose slightly from the road at this sudden check, the girl chuckled in delight with a note as sweet as the bell on the handlebars. It was a lovely bicycle. She mounted, and after a few preliminary wobbles picked up speed to thrust swiftly down the slope before the ascent of Knocknadreemally. The impetus of her flight carried her halfway u'p the hill, then she raised herself over the bars, her bare shapely legs thrusting strongly on the pedals, her red lips open as she breathed. She defeated and completely subdued the hill under her twinkling wheels, and shook back her brown curls to the cool air when she reached the level. On her right were two small cottages, one shuttered, with a beard of grass on its thatch, now used by her family as a potato-house. At the second, as she sped past it, she saw a bent old man clad only in a nightshirt, standing at the door. For the briefest mbment she saw him reach out a clawed finger at her, saw a smile break on his dirty stubbled face, heard him cry "wee Martha! wee Martha!." But Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 802 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna223 Manuscript Feathers, Martha English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna223 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna223_0.jpg LHL Archive 216 she was safely past, rushing down the hill away from the old fool and the stench that neighbours said came from his dark untended home since his wife died. At the bottom of the hill a flock of hens lay on the road murmuring to each other, yawning and fluffing dust on their feathers. She bore down on them laughing and trilling her bell madly. They fled before her. spinning wheel, searching holes in the hedges, and when she was far away she could still hear their indignant abuse and the angry stutter of the cock. She cycled along the undulating road that ran through Banyil Moss, and after pushing up a hill dismounted at the door of Skillen's grocery store. The shop was a continuation of Skillen's dwelling-house, a pretentious pebble-dashed house, with a fringe of nastartuims running along the base of the wall. The shop itself was large and dark and the air heavy with the varied odours that rose from the merchandise that the store displayed. From the left of the door the heavy dusty smell of meals, crushed corn and maize mingled with the smells of bacon, red cheese, onions, candles , camphor and agricultural medicines. A large red oil-drum, with a copper measure dangling from the spigot, sat in a dark circle of paraffin soaked into the floor. At the ping of the doorbell a young man's head rose from behind a round red cheese that sat on the counter. He hurried forward wiping his fingers on his apron. "Hello, Martha," he said grinning bashfully. The girl held out the string shopping bag she carried. "I want half-a-pound o' tea, and two pounds o' sugar, and my mother says'll ye get the van to leave up four gallons o' paraffin the next time its near our place?" The youth unwound his fingers from his apron and took the bag. "I suppose you're letting on ye dont remember me going to Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 803 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna224 Manuscript Joe, Tobacco English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna224 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna224_0.jpg LHL Archive 217 Ravara School?" "Of coarse I remember ye! Didnt ye go to school with our Andrew?" retorted the girl, scornf'al at such peurile raillery. "Then what do they call me?" he demanded. "They call ye Joe Skillen." "Ah, then ye do remember me!" cried Joe triumphantly. "Of course 1 remember ye. D'ye think I'm as daft as ail that!" Joe, chivalrously acknowledging defeat, retreated behind the counter and put the tea and sugar in the string bag. "Ye wont forget the paraffin?" asked the girl as she accepted her purchases. "I'll bring it up meself. I cant say fairer nor that!" cried the youth, rubbing his hands together briskly. The girl looked at him gravely. "No, I suppose ye cant," she agreed. He opened the door for her and followed her out onto the road, as she stepped across the bicycle and stood poised, Joe rearranged the string bag that she had hung on the handlebars. "It might catch on the brakes," he warned, Suddenly he slid his hand along the bar until it closed on her's. He felt her warm brown hand quiver under his like a bird. "I'll be up wi' the paraffin one of these evenings, soon," he said in a quick unsteady voice. He bent his head down to see her face under her tumbled hair. Her mouth was curved in laughter, and his neart raced again. Without a word she shook her hand loose, and pushing vigorously on the pedals sped away fiom him. When he went back into the shop his father was cutting tobacco at the counter. "who was that ye were ushering out?" he demanded. "Martha Echlin from Rathard." "Oh, it was, was it?" said his father putting down the tobacco knife and turning his red moon face on his son. "Well, you've damned little to do wi’ your time, helping Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 804 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna225 Manuscript Jezebel, Tobacco English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna225 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna225_0.jpg LHL Archive 213 that daughter o' Jezebel t’load a pickle o' tea and sugar on her bislick. Damned little to do." And tucking the plug of tobacco into his waistpocket, he left the shop by the door leading to the dwelling-house. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 805 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna226 Manuscript Kipper, Boots English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna226 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna226_0.jpg LHL Archive 219 Chapter Seven Far away, on a neighbouring hill, a cock clapt his fiery wings and lifted his trumpet to the sky. In the bog below Knocknadreemally a cow crooned patiently. A bronze shape stirred in a corner of Petie Sampson?s kitchen, shook itself, stepped into the middle of the floor and stretched its long body. The prying light that filtered through the window glowed on the warm colouring of the dog and lit up the miserable kitchen, with its spider-linked roots and dusty jars. The dog trotted over to the sofa and nosed Petie where he lay in his cocoon of blankets. The old man turned over muttering but didnt rise until Kipper (the seventh in a line of Irish setters of that name) laid his forepaws over his chest with a resounding thump. Petie shook him off. "Damn-it-skin, you're a right pest," he mumbled. After a few seconds of groaning, stretching and scratching his belly under his shirt, he lowered his bent naked legs to the floor. still scratching himself he hobbled across the earth floor to the chair where he had thrown his trousers the night before. He drew' them on, and a pair of socks as stiff as boards, and clumped into his boots. His toilet was as brief and simple as his dog's - a rubbing of his eyes with a soiled cloth and phelgmy spittle shot into the back of the smouldering fire, and he was ready for breakfast and the day's work. He drew the bolt of the door and went out to relieve himself at the gable of the house. When he came in again he prodded the fire, threw a fresh turf on it, and pushed the porridge-pot and the soot-crusted kettle into the embers. When a Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 806 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna227 Manuscript Belfast, Petie English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna227 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna227_0.jpg LHL Archive 220 languid bubble burst on the surface of the porridge he stirred the skin into the steaming mess. "Gie's it a bit o' body," he explained to Kipper, who sat on his haunches watching expectantly his master's preparations. When the porridge was warm enough to be spooned into two dishes the kettle shot a splutter of steam and water from its spout. Petie took a canister from the mantelboard and shook a handful of tea into his palm. He emptied this into the kettle and poured out another handful from the canister. 3efore he added this to the water he poured some of the brew into the back of the fire, observing critically its strength and colour. "Strong enough," he said, emptying the handful back into the canister. "That'll gie us a fresh cup when we get back frae Belfast." The tea and the porridge and a few dried crusts were mixed up on a dish for Kipper; Petie lifted his own plate onto his knee, and master and dog ate their hreakfast. The daylight had broadened when Petie went out again. He lifted his nose and sniffed appreciatively at the marbled sky. "We'll get a dry run the-day, Kipper boy, if that sky houlds. "Tis time them boyos were showing signs," he added, looking down the silent road towards Ravara. But he had scarcely gone back into the cottage again before faint shouts came filtering up the hill, and an undertone of many hooves. Pulling on his jacket and cramming a battered hat on his head, Petie trod down the fire, lifted an ashplant from the corner, drove Kipper out befor him, and closed the door. Stretching from hedge to hedge a solid hered of cattle was advancing up the hill. A man carrying a now useless hurricane lamp strode before them. As he approached Petie he threw back his head and roared "Are ye up yet, Petie, me ould dragoon!" "Aye, I'm Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 807 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna228 Manuscript Kipper, Catholics English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna228 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna228_0.jpg LHL Archive 221 up, and waiting for ye this past hour," answered Petie. "Well, put this lamp somewhere, and get in shint wi' the brother. Obediently Petie took the lamp and put it in the small lean-to at the end of the cottage. The herd had passed him by this time and he had to run to catch up with the young man who followed the animals. He nodded to Petie and then turned his attention Ko a little black bitch that snarled and bristled as hipper gambolled playfully around her. The young man slapped his stick on his moleskin leg. " Quit that, Molly, or I’ll cut the tripes out o’ ye!" he shouted, politely ignoring Petie’s dog. He turned and again nodded amiably to Petie. "Doesna know a gentleman when she meets one - bad wee baste.” "But powerful at the herding,” answered Petie, not to be outdone in politeness. With a few further words between them the three men settled down to driving the cattle on the long road to Ardpatrick and the cattle train. The two brothers who had offered Petie a day’s work in helping with the cattle to Belfast, were Hugh and Peter Ogle, young larmers from the towniand of Lusky Woods. They were Catholics, which might have deterred Petie in his younger and more obstreperous days. But beggars cant be choosers , and Petie's life was now as near a beggarly one as made no difference. He was wanted no more at Bourke’s farm where young Mr Bourke had done all the byres up in tiles and cement with a new-fangled milking machine. At Rathard he could still get a meal and a spell of light work, but Sarah had made it clear to him that he was a nuisance when he went up too often, and had a way of tossing him a pair of done boots or a tattered jacket that hurt the old man’s pride. Forgotten was the glib resolution to give old Petie the means to live out a decent old age, and only Hamilton had returned the old man his half-crown rent for the cottage one day, and told him not to worry about it again. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 808 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna229 Manuscript Ogle, Queen's Bridge English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna229 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna229_0.jpg LHL Archive 222 But hot even Petie could eke out life with the help of thirty pence a week. So Peter Ogle, a man of humanitymoved to pity perhaps by having seen old Petie working round his cottage, or perhaps by some casual association of name, had cycled over a few days ago to ask him to help with the cattle with a promise that there would be a shilling or two in it, at the end of the day. Anyway, here were Petie and Kipper on their way to Belfast, the lovely animal circling the cattle effortlessly at the men’s bidding, and Petie trotting from side to side, shouting, blattering rumps with his stick, his wizened face scarlet with excitement and pleasure. The bullocks were loaded into the cattle wagons and the three men and the two dogs climbed into a third class carriage. On the way to Belfast Hugh Ogle produced a pack of broken cards and in front of Petie's staring eyes proceeded to lose fifteen shillings to his brother. "Made o’ money, that’s what ye are - made o' money,” whispered the old man gazing at the brothers in dismay and awe. Peter Ogle gave him a slap on the chest that sent him into hie corner. "Tits, man!" he shouted, "sure its ell coming out o' one pocket!" And the brothers lay back end roared with laughter. At Belfast they got the cattle safely out of the station and turned on Queen's Bridge for the Sand quay. Among the thundering traffic of the city Petie's confidence ebbed, and he kept close to the cattle, so close indeed that sometimes he was walking between the steaming flanks of the beasts, and his eyes were as wide and bewildered as those of the cattle he drove. But the Ogles were experienced drovers and soon the cattle were trotting briskly down the Sand Quay, past the church of St John's and into the cattle market, when there business was settled Peter, Petie and Hugh Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 809 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna230 Manuscript Cromac, Wages English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna230 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna230_0.jpg LHL Archive 225 crossed over the bridge to Cromac Square, turned down towards the city centre, entered a public-house and ordered drinks. They lifted, their pints from the counter and carried them over to a snug. When they were seated Peter Ogle lifted his glass, closed his eyes, and slugged down the porter in one long draught. He set down his glass and shook his head appreciatively at his brother and Petie. "That clears the cow-clap out o' your throat, all right," he said .When the others had finished their drink Peter beckoned to the barman. "Three more pints, will ye? And bring a couple o’ tin lids or something for the dogs." The pints came, bland as milk, and a chipped enamel basin for the dogs. The three men each poured a little of their porter into the basin, and Kipper and Ogles’ bitch approached it warily and dipped their tongues in the frackled umber liquid. Hugh Ogle glanced at Petie who sat beside him and then nodded briefly to his brotner. "Damn-it-sowl, I near forgot!" cried the man opposite, and fishing with his finger and thumb in his waist pocket, drew out a pound note and pushed it down into the breast pocket of Petie's jacket. The old man fumbled at the note and drew it out. An expression of surprise and dismay came on his face when he saw the magnitude of his wages. "Dammit, men there's no call for that, no call at all. Quarter o' it would have been more’n enough "Not a word out o' ye, now - not a word!" cried Peter. "Come on Hugh boy, dip the hand afore we choke wi' thirstt!" The barman was summoned again, and when that round was consumed Petie insisted on standing his whack. As the drink mounted in them the brothers found the porter slow and the pints gave way to bottles of stout and the stout to ’half-uns’ and ’balls o’ malt.' They were big robust men, the Ogles, living a hard Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 810 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna231 Manuscript Ireland, Laughter English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna231 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna231_0.jpg LHL Archive 224 vigorous life, and the whiskey only fired them and loosened their tongues. And Petie, who had drunk more in the past two hours than he had in the past ten years, hung grimly on to the discourse, and the table. The brothers held out their arms for him to feel and boasted about their strength and skill at gaelic football. "And I tell ye what, Petie, me bould cock," said Hugh, "you’ll see the day when we’ll all be playing the ould Irish games - all creeds and persuasions o' us!" This generous piece of heterodoxy was matched by Petie raising himself uncertainly at the table and singing: Ireland was a Nation Alien England was a pup And Ireland will be Ireland When England's buggered up. I'm as good a Roman Cath-o-lick As ever went to Mass And all you English gentlemen Can kiss me Irish Ass! A tremendous uproar broke out from the snug at this. Hugh Ogle thumped the partition with his fist, and Peter, tears of laughter running down his face, raised old Petie's hat and clapped it back on his head. "Ch-ho, ye black-mouthed ould Presbyterian! We’ll have ye in wi’ us yet, before ye die!" he roared. The bar- tender had to shout before he could make himself heard. "Come on you men, pack it up. Ye saw that sign up there - 'No Party Songs'. You’ve had enough - more'n enough by the look o’ your da," and he jerked his thumb at retie. 'One more for the road, manager," said Hugh, raising his hand. "Not a damn drop - you've got all you're gonna get in this house." He held the door open invitingly. "Now, any time ye like - gentlemen." Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 811 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna232 Manuscript Barman, Kipper English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna232 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna232_0.jpg LHL Archive 225 "Ye can go t'hell," said Hugh, settling further back in his corner of the snug. But the barman was experienced in the ways of drunks. He opened the door and stared coldly at Petie until the old man, unable to bear his scrutiny any longer, stumbled to his feet and came out of the snug followed slowly by the brothers and the two dogs. The barman followed them politely and distantly to the street door and held it open for them to pass out. "I could go back and clip that boyo one," said Hugh. "Ah, come on," said his brother. "It's time we had something to eat any way. M'belly thinks my throat’s cut." Petie stood with Kipper pressed closely against his leg, bewildered by the hurrying city crowd that streamed past them. "Would there be a place close at hand here where we could get a bite?" he asked. "And a bit o' steak," he added, jingling the half-crowns in his pocket. "And a spud for the dogs," said Peter. "Come on, men, we’ll hae to go up the middle o’ the town I’m feard. There’s no eating-places about here. Here's a tram coming," he added, halting at a tram-stop where a crowd of shipyard workers had gathered. Petie stared fearfully at the red clanging vehicle as it bore down on them. "Could we no walk a bit, Peter? A mouthful o' air will do us good "Not at all, man!, Ye never walk anywhere in the city." "They'll no take the dogs on her," said Petie without much hope as the tramcar grinded to a stop before them. "Oh aye, they willl!"retorted Peter. "Upstairs wi' ye now!" he shouted, herding his brother and Petie and the dogs off the pavement. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 812 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna233 Manuscript City, Kipper English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna233 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna233_0.jpg LHL Archive 226 By vigorous use of their shoulders the Ogles gained a foothold on the platform. Behind them came the dogs and Petie, buffeted and tossed by the men pressing behind him. Just as he got his foot on the step, a youth came clattering down the stairs and leapt from the tram, knocking him staggering back onto the street. The conductor, open-mouthed, craned his neck over a mass of oil-stained caps to see if everyone was safely on. ’’All aboard!" someone sang out. The bell pinged and the tram, gathering speed, snored into the brown city murk. Just before it disappeared, Petie saw a sudden upheaval among the men crushed on the platform. A lithe golden shape wriggled out from the moving tram, slithered along the road for a few feet and then turned and came bounding joyfully back to Petie. It was Kipper. Further up the road a mill suddenly released hundreds upon hundreds of men and women. They came surging down the pavement, sweeping all before them, so that pedestrians moving in the opposite direction had to hug the wall or step off onto the street. In a fumbling darting run Petie and Kipper crossed the street to the quieter side. What little sense of direction the old man once had was now lost. Hunger, weariness, and too much drink had left him in a befuddled condition ready to be swept along by any force outside himself. He had crossed at the opposite tram-stop, and now, when a tram drew up before him, he moved forward automatically with the other waiting people, clinging desparately to Kipper’s scruff. "Upstairs with that dog," ordered the conductor and Petie stumbled upstairs. He held out two pennies when the conductor came along. "One for me and one for the dog," he said. The people who overheard him, laughed, but the conductor snatched a penny a penny from his hand and thrust a ticket into the crook of his thumb. A kindly woman leant over to Petie. "They Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 813 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna234 Manuscript Tram, Conductor English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna234 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna234_0.jpg LHL Archive 227 take dogs free,” she said. She smelt the reek of whiskey from him and turned her head abruptly away. The tram lurched and sang up the road, climbing out of the city. To Petie it was a confused blur of hurrying people, the lighted windows of huckster shops, hoardings, dirty brick walls, street lamps, and people; people scurrying blindly along the pavements or moving forward in patient droves as the tram stopped. "Penny stage!" The tram came to a stop, then laboriously began to pick up speed again, only to be halted by a fierce tang of the bell. The conductor came clattering up the stairs. "Hi you! Penny stage!" and he plucked Petie's sleeve. Petie gaped at him and then turned to the man who shared his seat. The man caught his eye. "Your penny’s up. Are ye getting off?" Petie grasped at the only phrase he understood. He nodded eagerly. "Aye aye, getting off." He rose, dragging Kipper from among the passengers’ feet and crawled downstairs after the conductor. As he stepped down onto the street he could see the passengers in the lower saloon staring angrily at him. There was a public-house at the corner of the street where he alighted. After looking round him helplessly the old man pushed the door open and went in. There were already several men drinking at the counter, some having a quick one before they went home, some who had no intention of going home until their money was done or they were turned out. At the end of the pub, with his back to the fire, stood a young Irish Guardsman surrounded by three or four other men, his relations or neighbours. A shining receptacle filled with tiers of pies spouted steam on the counter. Petie*s breath whistled through his lips as the warm odours of food and drink came to his nose. He herded Kipper into a snug and sat down, waiting for the barman. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 814 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna235 Manuscript Partition, Guardsmen English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna235 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna235_0.jpg LHL Archive 228 When he came the old man ordered a pint and two pies. He tossed a pie to the dog, bit ravenously into the other one, and gulped down a draught of porter. When he had finished he stood up and called over the partition for two more pies. He threw one on the floor for the dog, but he ate his own more slowly, for his hunger was blunted. The bar was filling up quickly. Men who had been drinking since knocking-off time in the mills found a new thirst as workmates arrived. The hum of talk, the ring of glasses, and the thud of cork-drawers grew louder. People trickled into the snugs on either side of Petie and at last his snug door was opened and a man and woman, after glancing at him, slipped in and sat down. Petie moved back into the corner and pushed the dog under the seat, but the man and woman hadn't a word for him, and he began to feel lonely. Then over the din of the pub rose a voice singing The Bold Penian Men: ... all who love foreign law Native or Sassanach, Must out and make way for the bold Fenian men! Petie's eyes brightened; he got up and the woman without ceasing her talk or taking her eyes from her companion's face, swung her knees aside to let him pass. It was the young Irish Guardsman who was singing while his friends good-humouredly shielded him from a distracted barman who ran round them like a terrier round a herd of bullocks. Petie, smiling and eager for company edged his way down the bar. The boss of the pub, taking a sour eye off the singer and his helpless barman for a moment, saw Kipper. "Who's bloody cur is that?" he asked a man who was drinking Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 815 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna236 Manuscript Ulsterman, Comic English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna236 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna236_0.jpg LHL Archive 229 a pint at the counter. The man glanced down at the dog. "Never saw it in me puff," he said. "There's a good man," said the boss "wheek it out for us, will ye?" The man looked at the boss for a moment, then set down his pint and catching Kipper by the scruff threw him out through a side door into the dark street. Petie had wormed his way into the inner ring around the singer. As the soldier ended amid the applause of his friends, Petie laid a hand on his chest. "Soldier - soldier, would ye sing us the Ould Orange Flute?" A silence fell on the pub. The claque stood frozen with their hands stretched out in the act of clapping. Men put their pints down on the counter silently without tasting them. From a dark snug at the top of the pub an old crone peered out, wiping the tony wine from her mouth with her shawl. The barman turned a frightened face to the boss. "Jesus, boss," he whispered "I ast him to sing no party songs!" The Guardsman stared down at Petie with a hard menacing frown. But as he searched the drunken wrinkled face of the old man the frown slowly cleared. He bent his knees until his face was level with Petie's. "No offence meant, old one?" he asked. He spoke in the clipped voice of an Ulsterman who had served overseas. Petie turned with a helpless gesture to the silent crowd around him. "Sure, what offence would I mean?" he asked. No one answered him. "Well," said the soldier loudly, drawing himself up, "You'll get your song." But he saw that he must placate his friend. "The ould cod means no harm," he laughed. The men lifted their drinks, turning their backs on him and Petie. With an air of bravado the soldier started to sing the Orange song. He sang it in a comic manner to purge it of offence, his eyes searching vainly for Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 816 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna237 Manuscript Presbyterian, Soldier English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna237 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna237_0.jpg LHL Archive 230 an answering smile among his friends. After a couple of verses he gave in easily, with a laugh, to the barman's pleading. Then, inconstantly, the soldier's cronies pressed round Petie; somebody bought him a drink, another warned him it was a mad dangerous thing to call for a Party song before you knew the colour of your pub, a third congratulated him on not meeting a bunch of boys that would have given him his head in his hand, a fourth bought him a drink. "But sure m'grandfather was hanged in the '98 Rising" cried Petie. "T'hell wi' that for a tale," said an old man with a round intelligent face "Sure, I've never met a Presbyterian wi' drink on him yet, whose grandfather wasn't hanged in the '98!" They laughed at this, and drinks were brought for Petie and the old man. It was the last hurried round, for the bar counter had been mopped down, the cork-drawers stood erect, silent and motionless, and the boss and his curates leaned against the back of the bar with folded arms, shaking their heads silently to each wheedling appeal from the other side of the counter. The publican straightened himself. "Come on now, gentlemen, come on now! D'ye went the sergeant in on us? Time now, everybody!" The Guardsman and his friends and Petie were urged out of the bar onto the lamplit street. The soldier and some of the younger men wanted to continue the drinking in an nearby club. Some of the more temperate wanted to go home, as the men swayed against each other, shouting each other down, an old shawled crone came creeping out of the pub. She sidled up to the men her eyes searching among them, when she saw Petie she whipped a porter bottle out of her shawl. "That's for you, ye ould Orange bastard!" she screamed, and struck him to the ground. She Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 817 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna238 Manuscript Hell, Victoria Square English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna238 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna238_0.jpg LHL Archive 231 scuttled off at amazing speed and disappeared into the darkness of an entry. The soldier picked Petie up out of the gutter. His hat had broken the full force of the blow, but there was a trickle of blood starting from his forehead. "Are you hurt, old boy?" asked the soldier. Petie clung to him, sick, stunned, dumb. Then he staggered away, and leaning against a lampost vomited heavily into the gutter. The men shuffled uneasily, peering sidewards at Petie. They had no sympathy with him now, he was a drunk who might attract the police. They began to laugh and jeer, moving away in little groups into the darkness. Only one or two friends of the soldier remained, trying to drag him away from the old man. "Hell roast ye, Barney, the club’ll be closed if we dont put an inch four step ..." The soldier shook himself free. "Well, on you go - I'm seeing the old one on his bus." There was a shout of disapproval at this."Come on, Barney, let the ould blirt be!" "I tell you I’m seeing this man on his bus. Now on you go, the lot o' you. If I'm up in time I'll knock on the window - if I'm not I'll see you in the morn." Still protesting, the soldier's friends moved away round the corner. He half-lifted Petie onto a city-bound tram and on the slow journey pieced together his day's story and his destination, when the tram stopped in Donegall Place he helped the old man off and led him to Victoria Square. There he propped him against a wall and went in search of the Ravara bus. When he found it he went back for Petie. He called the conductor and slipping his hand into the old man's pocket, held up the few coins he found there. "Is that enough to take this man home?" he asked. The conductor Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 818 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna239 Manuscript Bus, Terror English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna239 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna239_0.jpg LHL Archive laughed. "leave him to me, soldier. I know him well, and where he comes from." "Fair enough," said the Guardsman. He placed Petie in a corner seat and peered down into his face. "Good-night, old one," he said. Petie looked up at him silently, without understanding. The soldier grinned and nodded to the conductor as he left the bus. "He’s all right now?" "As right as rain, mate," answered the conductor, jerking the bell, as the bus moved off, a spark of intelligence came- into the old man's eyes. He staggered to his feet and peered out of the bus window. "Thank ye, son, thank yel" he cried. On the others side of the street a tall figure in khaki passed under a street lamp and disappeared in the gloom without looking back. As the bus crept up over the top of the Castlereagh Hills, a squall of rain struck it, slashing the windows with black and silver. Here and there along the road to Ardpatrick the bus stopped in the darkness and a man or woman entered or left. None of them gave more than a passing glance at the bowed figure of the old man who swayed weakly to the lurching of the bus, his hands grasping the seat in front of him. And slowly in Petie's mind a small black bud of terror grew and spread. He stretched down and groped blindly round his legs and feet. "Oh, God, me dog I’ve left me wee dog!" he cried out. He rose to his feet and blundered down the bus to the door. The conductor caught him and hurled him into another seat. "Sit down ye ould fool!" he shouted "D’ye want to break your bloody neck!" "But I’ve left me wee dog behind me! Oh God, he’ll be kilt wi' all those people and motor-cars!" "Ach, not at all, the police'll lift him and keep him for ye." Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 819 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna240 Manuscript Petie, Ravara English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna240 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna240_0.jpg LHL Archive 233 "Oh, no, oh, no I I know he'll be beat snd kilt among them. Oh, God, oh, God!" he leant his head on the seat in front of him and wept. The bus bounced and jolted on, a speck of light crawling over the face of the dark countryside. The conductor shook Petie by the shoulder. "Knocknadree- mally Hill, next stop, Petie" he shouted above the roar of the bus. The old tnan sat up, his face sober and "quiet. "I'm going on to Bavara crossroads, Sam," he replied. "But we're coming to your place now!" shouted the conductor. "Bavara crossroads," repeated Petie. "You'll get no bus back the-night," the man warned him. The old man was silent. "Are ye staying wi' somebody there?" "Aye" said Petie "I'm staying wi' somebody there." As the bus passed his cottage he didn't look out of the window, but stared straight ahead at the empty seats in front. Once or twice the conductor who sat in front glanced back uneasily at him. Then at last he got up and sliding back the window behind the driver's head talked long and earnestly to his mate. When he had finished he stood aside so that the other man could look back into the bus. The driver screwed round in his seat and stared at Petie as long as he dared. Then he turned back to his wheel, spat into the darkness, and shouted something over his shoulder with a note of finality. The conductor shut the window and sat down with his back to Petie. At Bavara the bus came to a throbbing halt. The conductor stood over Petie, bracing himself by the handles of the seats. ’You're at the crossroads, Petie," he said. The old man looked up and smiled. "Thank ye kindly, Sam. I know me way now." He crawled out of his seat and walked slowly down the bus. The driver Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 820 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna241 Manuscript Ravara, Gravestones English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna241 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna241_0.jpg LHL Archive  254. turned round to watch their last passenger descend. The force of the wind and the rain made the old man stagger when he stepped onto the road. He raised his hand in salute and the bus slowly picked up speed and went droning into the darkness. Petie walked back a short distance to the gates of Ravara churchyard. They squealed as he pushed them open, and his feet crunched on the new gravel of the path. At a flat tombstone he turned off the path and pushed on through the seeping grass. He had almost reached the corner of the graveyard under the hedge before he stopped. The burying-place of the Sampsons was two graves wide and the family stone nodded over it, heavy with its tale of death. The top of one grave still rose in a gentle arch of new-healed earth. Here the old man fell on nis knees, then stretched himself out, casting his arm over the grave. At first the rain struck him with a dry pattering noise, merging at last into the dull insistent murmur with which it fell on gravestones, grass, and trees. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 821 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna242 Manuscript Skillen, Kitchen English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna242 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna242_0.jpg LHL Archive 235 Chapter Eight Some evenings after Martha’s visit to the shop, Joe Skillen delivered the drum of paraffin to Rathard. The wheels of his light cart were not heard by the dogs of the farm so that when he suddenly appeared among the rowan trees they rose up in a clamorous outburst to hide their unwariness. Skillen had never been in Rathard before, and he looked with intense interest at the woman who came to the door of the dwelling-house and stared questioningiy at him. He leapt lightly from the cart. "The paraffin, ma’am," he explained, touching his cap and smiling pleasantly. The woman relaxed a little, "From - ?" "From Skillens. I’m Joe Skillen." She looked at him as though the addition of his name had been an impertinence. "I'll send one o' the men," she said, withdrawing into the house. The youth made no effort to roll the drum to the lip of the cart. He used every second to peer and probe with sharp eyes around the farmstead. Was the girl Martha out? Or was she sitting in the kitchen aware that he had come? Who would Sarah Echlin send to help him? Then his heart gave a great leap as the tall figure of Andrew appeared in the doorway. Skillen hurried towards him with outstretched hand. "The bould Andra boy! What’s the word with ye?" Andrew took his hand in a shy fumbling manner. "I'm rightly, Joe," he replied. "It's a long time since you and me kicked a hanky ball coming home from school!" continued Skillen linking his arm in the other’s and leading him towards Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 822 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna243 Manuscript Schoomates, Rathard English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna243 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna243_0.jpg LHL Archive 236 the cart. Andrew laughed so loudly at this, that Skillen glanced at him in surprise, he did not understand that this was the first time in eight years that Echlin had seen one of his schoolmates in the close of Hathard, and that the young man had suddenly realised that people still remembered him, and would shake hands with him, as they would with any other former’s son growing to manhood. when Skilien had clambered up and moved the drum to the lip of the cart, Andrew pushed his hands away. "I've ould clothes," he said "You'll only muck yourself carrying it." He put his arms around the drum and lifting it easily, carried it across the close and set it down in an outhouse. Skillen who had followed him, gripped his upper arm. "B’god, there’s pith there, Andra boy," he said. Andrew smiled and lowered his head as he pulled down his sleeves. Then he looked Skillen straight in the face. "Come on in and have a cup o' tea, he said. He turned and walked with deliberate steps to the house door. "I've brought Joe Skillen in for a drop o' tea," he announced. The four occupants of the kitchen looked up as Andrew spoke. Although he had never before seen any of the three older people, Skillen recognised them immediat- ely. They were people from an old story come to life. That was Frank lying on the sofa, lying on the sofa who got his back broke in a fight long ago, over some girl or other. That woman at the table who stared over her shoulder, not at him, but at her son, was Sarah Gomartin, and the big-boned man at the fire, of whom other men spoke with respect, was Hamilton Echlin. After a pause Hamilton pushed his chair back hospitably. "Come in Mr - Skillen," he said. And as he moved back the firelight that he had snrouded shot across the darkening room and Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 823 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna244 Manuscript Skillen, Crane English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna244 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna244_0.jpg LHL Archive  237 Skillen saw her seated in the opposite corner, her small shy vivid face turned to him. For the first time the assurance of the youth wavered. He smiled sheepishly and bobbed his head "Good evening," he said. If she answered, her voice was so low that he did not hear it, but the smile she gave him was sufficient. Slowly his cocksureness returned. After a few jocular remarks to Andrew he turned his attention to the older people, feeling warily for the most friendly one among them. He was no fool, young Skillen, and talked sensibly to Hamilton about tools and their cost, and crops and the prices they fetched. Now and again he threw a polite word to the woman at the table, but it was Frank who encouraged him and drew him out. It was the cripple lying back on the sofa who had realised the moment the young man entered the house why he was there, who had caught and interpreted the shy swift glance between Skillen and Martha. And as the conversation grew the man on the sofa flowered into wit end laughter, and his gaeity spread to the others. Sarah gave up her work at the table and drew a chair into the circle. Martha and Andrew, amid the talk and laughter, gazed with curiosity at this new Frank, they had never known before. Hamilton sat quietly among them, except when a bark of laughter was drawn from him, his dark eyes fixed on his brother and a happy smile playing on his mouth. This was the Frank he remembered. Then, as Sarah stretched forward to lower the kettle on the crane, Skillen stood up quickly. "I must be away now," he said. "You'll stay for a cup o' tea, surely," said Sarah. "Ah, its getting on," he answered, buttoning his jacket, "and I dont want to be giving you any bother." "Its no bother at all," Andrew assured Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 824 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna245 Manuscript Fireside, Crimson English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna245 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna245_0.jpg LHL Archive 238 him. "Sure this is our time for a cup o’ tea, anyway." "Well now, if ye say that," answered Joe, sitting down again. When the tea was infused they took their seats at the table, for no one would have thought of drinking a cup of tea at the fireside with a guest present. The slight formality of the meal checked the spate of talk, but the feeling of cordiality still persisted after the cups were emptied. Joe had fallen silent for other reasons than having his mouth full of food. During the evening he hadn’t exchanged more than half-a-dozen words with Martha. Now he was pondering on his next move. In his most optimistic moments he had never dreamt that he would make such progress with the girl’s parents. But now, when he left, he feared that the curtain of insularity would fall on this household again, and all the ground that he had gained would be lost. He made up his mind to chance his luck further that evening. When the men rose from the table and returned to their places at the fire, Joe declined to sit down again. "No stopping this time, thank ye," he replied. He peered out at the blue darkness of the evening. "And its going to be a sore job getting down that loanen of yours, seeing I dont know the way. l tell ye what he swung round with a tense little laugh to where Martha stood: "You show me the way, will ye?" The girl flushed crimson, and the rest of the Echlins, with the exception of Frank, stared at Joe in surprise. Frank, who was stretched on the sofa again, lowered his head and picked idly at the fringe. My God, thought the lad, I've made a mistake. He drew back a little. "Maybe its too cold for ye to come out," he murmured. There was silence lor a moment. "Put on your coat, Martha," said Sarah slowly, "and see Mr Skillen on his road." Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 825 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna246 Manuscript Reins, Incline English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna246 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna246_0.jpg LHL Archive 239 "Yes, mother," said the girl, and taking her coat from behind the door, pulled it over her shoulders. "Well, goodnight to you," said Joe, putting his hand to his forenead and swivelling on his heel to include them all in his salute. Then he followed Martha out to the close. His horse snickered when it felt the weight of feet on the shafts and stepped out readily when Joe lifted the reins. There was silence between the two young people until the girl gave a low laugh and Joe caught the gleam of her eyes as she looked up at him. He slapped the reins lightly on the horse's rump. "Well, what's so funny, eh? "You're a cool boyo, walking in just like that, and stealing me away from the fire." Joe was no sluggard when it came to love-making. He was not one of those youths, who, after they have parted from their sweethearts, recall every word and gesture, and sink deeper and deeper into a cloud of self-reproach and despair, as they realise too late, the invitation hidden in the glance or word that held no significance at the time. Rather, he was a young man who not only seized the opportunity, but made it. He passed the reins into his right hand and clipped his left arm round the girl's slender waist. "and what's this for, pray?" she cried, striving, but not too vigorously, to unclasp his fingers. "that's to make up for the heat you're losing at the fire." She murmured in protest, laughed, and leant back against his shoulder. The horse edged carefully round the left hand bend at the bottom of the steep incline and ambled slowly towards the road. When they reached it Joe pulled up at the verge, "What do we do now?" he Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 826 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna247 Manuscript Martha, Statement English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna247 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna247_0.jpg LHL Archive 240 asked, looking down into Martha’s face. She laughed timidly and withdrew from his arm. ’’I mean, d’ye think your mother’ll let me come up again?” ”Oh? Well, why shouldn't she, she’s nothing against ye." "Do you want me to come up again?” He had to bend his head to catch her low-voiced answer. As he looked down at the young figure beside him a sudden wave of tenderness overcame him. "Martha,” he said in a husky uncertain voice ”I want very dearly to marry you." She raised her face to look at him. "But Joe, I dont know you." Then as she lowered her head she added "And you dont know anything about me.” He placed his fingers gently under her chin and raised her face again. "The way I feel about you has nothing to do with knowing - or maybe it goes far beyond that. But you went to know about me? Ah, that's a different thing! Look at me.” He moved her round until they looked into each other's eyes. After a long grave unwinking moment she was trembling on the verge of laughter. "Well, now you’ve seen me. There’s nothing more about me to know. You’ve seen me as I'll always be, in youth and age, fair weather and foul." And it seemed to Martha that this absurd statement was the truest thing she had ever heard. The light shining in his eyes transfigured the small nondescript face of the youth. She put her arms around his neck and pressed her fresh young mouth to his. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 827 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna248 Manuscript Autumn, Sea English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna248 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna248_0.jpg LHL Archive 241 Chapter Nine A cold bitter fog erect out of Banyil Moss and drifted slowly across the road. It was the first black fog of the autumn and the smell of it banished sunny harvest days from the memory. Blind winter was groping for a hold on the earth; the silken busbies of the thistles mustered for a last stand on the dykes, and in the waste land the nettles pricked the mist like a shattered army staggering away from the murk of war. The fog muted the countryside and to the noises it could not stifle it gave a strange unatural resonance; the flung bark of a dog, the booming of a cart's wheels, the drumming feet of a man climbimg Knocknadreemaily. He climbed steadily up out of the si Lent grey sea to the crest of the hill where the mist drifted in thin ribbons in the clearer air. It was Joe Skillen. He passed the deserted cottages and plunged down towards Rathard, lowering his head as he entered the mist again. There were beads of moisture on his hair, eyelashes ana flushed cheeks. At the bottom of the hill he paused in his rapid unseeing stride, and groping his way to a field-gate, leaned his arms on the upper bar. Vast columns of mist, creeping up from the lough and stirred from the air from the hilltop, shuttled and pirouetted and curtsied before him, hiding in their flutings trees hedges and fields. But the scene that Joe gazed on burned on his inner eye. He saw again his father, his ugly red face grown redder as he progressed from reproach Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 828 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna249 Manuscript Joe, Rage English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna249 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna249_0.jpg LHL Archive 242 to cajolery, from cajolery to threats, from threats to downright brutal rage at his son's stubborness. "Very well, ye cur ye!" he had shouted at last, running out to the hall door and throwing it violently throwing it open, "Get out to your crew o' libertines and whores, and dont darken this house again 'til ye come back to beg pardon of me and your mother!" But his mother hadn't spoken a word during the scene between her husband and her white-faced son. She had sat on the sofa, moving her great heavy face from one to the other, endeavouring to piece out in her slow mind what the quarrel was about. And then as Joe left the kitchen realisation dawned on her and she had cried out in a voice sharp with pain "Joe, Joe my wee son!" When Joe turned back to her, his father had come slopping down the hall, end caught him by the hair just as he was about to put his arms around the pathetic creature on the sofa. And Joe, good-natured wee Joe, had turned and struck his father a clumsy blow on the forehead, but hard enough to set him on his backside on the floor. Then he had put his arms around his mother, pressed an awkward kiss on her flat white cheek, touched the scant grey hair drawn tightly back on her shapeless head, and left the house without a glance at the whimpering man on the floor. As he went over the whole incident again, recalling the shame and stupidity of it, he ground his hands in his pockets. It was the culmination of a series of scenes mounting in passion and abuse, as the blustering man threw himself unavailingly against a determination which he never thought his son possessed, and which at times roused in him an articulate and murderous rage. It's all over now, thought Joe, and yet he felt that he had lost more than he had gained, or rather, Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 829 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna250 Manuscript Martha, Rathard English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna250 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna250_0.jpg LHL Archive 243 that stupidity and ill-reason had filched from him something that he valued. For Joe loved that slow- witted kindly woman, his mother, and even at this moment, while he deliberately reminded himself that his life with his father was broken, it was not the last stupid painful days he remembered, but all the happy times they had together; at the markets, the trips to Belfast, and those days when the three of them had joined their neighbours cockle-raking on the beach at Castle Espie. Joe was fond of telling Martha how free he was of fancy, and expression that became more popular with him in later life, as he grew more and more to resemble his father, but here, standing in the sunken gateway, halfway between his old home and Rathard, he felt with a brief clarity that he was standing at the gate opening to a new phase of his life. Behind him lay the house where he was born and the summer days of childhood, in front lay Rathard and the responsibilities of manhood. He pushed the gate open, stepped through, and climbed up to Rathard through the drenched fields. As he neared the top of the loanen the mist fell away and he entered the clear air of the hilltop. He stopped and looked down on the silent coiling grey sea below him. Away towards his home the mist suddenly billowed and swirled as though it were disturbed by some creature floundering beneath it. He thought again of his mother and his heart constricted in pain. But he had something more urgent to think about now. He had to face the Echlins and tell them that he had been turned out by his father, thrown out bf his own home and heritage because of them. He knew that Martha would not be surprised, because he had already hinted several times of his father’s opposition to their courtship. In this way he had explained why he could Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:02 830 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna251 Manuscript Daughter, Billet English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna251 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna251_0.jpg LHL Archive 244 not take her to visit his mother. The men, he expected, had never thought this strange. But what of Sarah? Was it her guilty pride that resteained her so scrupulously from asking Martha or him what his parents thought of their relationship? If so, Joe reasoned, that spelt danger, for it could only spring from the knowledge that she and her daughter were still considered unworthy by the decent farming folk of the townlands, and that the woman who ruled Rathard had to solve a problem, which, for once, could not be solved by money or thrust aside by her energetic will. He turned his face towards the farm. Martha was his ally, his affianced wife, the men he could twist round his finger. But Sarah - Sarah was another matter. The clamour of the dogs welcomed him as he entered the farm-close. First eager Martha, then Frank, then Sarah came to the door. Andrew came round the corner from the rath. He picked up a piece of wood and threw it for the dogs to retrieve. It fell near Joe's feet and he $xack& snatched it from them as they bounded towards him. Then, before he could get rid of it they were upon him, planting their forepaws on his chest and arms, wagging their tails and barking excitedly. Half-pinioned as he was, he tossed it to Martha, and then began a noisy, laughing, three-cornered game between the young people, while the dogs raced after the billet half-crazy with excitement. "That's enough, that's enough!" shouted Frank, shuffling down from the doorway. "You'll have them dogs beside themselves, if ye dont quit!" With a smile on his face, the cripple adroitly caught the piece of wood in its last erratic throw, and going indoors tossed it on the fire. Andrew followed him, and Joe and Martha strolled towards each other, laughing and mopping their faces. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 831 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna252 Manuscript Fog, House English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna252 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna252_0.jpg LHL Archive 245 "That’s a terrible fog," said Martha, looking down towards the hidden fields. She saw the shadow that passed over his face as he followed her glance. He did not reply but stood brooding on the grey tumbling mist that stretched as far as the eye could see. "Is there anything wrong, Joe?" she asked at last. He nodded briefly. "Aye, plenty." Hamilton appeared at the gate leading to the field over the lough. He had a swingletree on his shoulder and waved his free hand to the young couple. "You may tell me after," said Martha in a low hurried voice, as the men approached them. "You'll all hear it afore the night's out," answered Joe. He saw the look of anxiety in her eyes, and pressed her arm reassuringly. "It'll be all right," he whispered. The boy and girl returned Hamilton's greeting and followed him into the house. As the men sat round the fire while Martha and Sarah prepared the tea, Joe pondered on the best way to break his news to the Echlins. He almost regretted that he hadn't told Martha, knowing that she would have told Sarah. But then again, it might be ill-advised to let Sarah into the secret alone. He might yet need allies among the men. He glanced around him: Hamilton, his ageing cadaverous face lit up by the fire; .Frank lying on the sofa, staring patiently at the ceiling; Andrew playing idly with a floury goosewing and answering the older men in monosyllables. None of them had enough authority in this house to give a decision on the catastrophe that had befallen him and through him, Martha. He would have to tell them altogether, and he evolved a plan, some gesture that would make one of them question him. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 832 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna253 Manuscript Joe, Andrew English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna253 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna253_0.jpg LHL Archive 246 Martha pushed her way among them, lifted the teapot from the fire, and carried it to the table. "Tea’s ready now," she called. "Come on and get it before its cold." The men moved clumsily around the table until each had settled into his familiar chair. The tea was poured out, the cups handed round, and everyone stretched forward for bread. The meal was halfway through before Frank noticed that Joe’s egg was still unbroken. He tapped it with his spoon. "Dammit, I thought ye had emptied it and turned it end up! that's wrong wi' it, man?" They were all looking at Joe now. "And you’ve no bread on your plate," cried Sarah. "Have ye lost your appetite?" He pushed his plate away and studied the faces around the table before he spoke. "To tell ye the truth," he said at last, "I dont feel like meat. I had a terrible thing happen to me today." He paused again and looked at them. "My father told me to leave the house." Sarah spoke first. "For why?" she demanded curtly. But Joe knew that she knew before he answered her. "He wanted me to give up going with Martha. When I said I wouldn’t, he turned me out." "Your father turned ye out, eh?" repeated Sarah, with a harsh edge to her voice. "And why did he fault Martha?" As Joe sought feverishly for an answer, Hamilton rapped the table with his hard fingers. "Its no affair of ours, Sarah, why Mr Skillen doesna want his son to keep company with Martha. What concerns us is that Joe has broken wi' his house, and its for us to decide what's best." But when he had said that Hamilton fell silent, and it was plain to see by his face that what was best eluded him as widely as it did Joe, Andrew, and pale- faced Martha. But in Sarah's eyes a light slowly Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 833 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna254 Manuscript Joe, Shop English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna254 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna254_0.jpg LHL Archive 247 widened, and her full pale lips twitched. "Have ye any money by ye, Joe?" she asked. "About a hundred and eighty pounds. I did a bit at the fowl-dealing in the summer," he added in explanation. The older woman rose abruptly. "Joe, I’m going to put another hundred and eighty to it, and set the both of ye up in a shop. What d'ye say?" Joe stared up at her, his mouth loosened in astonishment. "A shop? But what kind o' a shop, Mrs Echlin - and where?" Sarah’s eyes closed in a cold lingering smile. "A grocer's shop. I was thinking there might be room in the townlands for two. Maybe another one about the top o’ Knocknadreemally in what used to be Sampson's old cottage?" Fox a moment the dying loyalty to his father flickered up in the boy. But the hard quizzical eyes of the women standing at the table demanded an answer. He nodded silently in agreement.' Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 834 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna255 Manuscript Sarah, Joyful English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna255 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna255_0.jpg LHL Archive 248 Chapter Ten They would have cleared the loft over the potato- house and put a bed in it for Joe, for though by some contriving room could have been made for him in the house, there was a reluctance among the older people to admit him so abruptly into the inner circle of their domestic life. Joe, quite unwittingly, saved them from embarrasment by going to live with an aunt, a sister of his mother in the towniand of Darragh, only seven miles away. He hired an ass and cart and continued his dealing round the countryside, applying himself with even greater industry to the adding to the hundred and eighty pounds lying in the bank in Ardpatrick. In the evenings he cycled over to Ravara to see Martha and to lend a hand in the conversion of the old cottage on Knocknadreemally. The new shop had been Sarah’s idea; the money ventured in the scheme had been her's also, so it was only proper that she should choose which of the men should supervise the re-building. Her choice fell on Frank. There were a number of reasons for this, some deliberate, others of which she was only dimly aware. Frank was in many ways a better workman than Hamilton, he had that gift of craftsmanship, of seeing the task in its entirety, and working towards that end. In some ways also, Sarah felt that she was compensating the crippled man. She realised that he was excited and joyful over the task, and for the first time for many years she did not have to probe behind his joy, seeking for some motive working against herself. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 835 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna256 Manuscript Knocknadreemally, Frank English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna256 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna256_0.jpg LHL Archive 249 But indeed every member of the Rathard household was excited about the new shop. It was a sudden outlet for them. They were about to break through the social isolation that had parched their hearts and minds for years, and on Knocknadreemally there would arise a homestead bound by unbreakable bonds with Rathard, an outpost of their own kin. Frank had many more suggestions to make and he outlined them to Joe one afternoon, sketching his plans on the doorpost of the old cottage. "When things are going well wi’ ye, Joe, ye can build a house for your- self on the plot o' land next to the shop. A decent house, two-storied wi' a slate roof, pebble-dashed walls facing on the road, a bit o' fuschia at the gate, and a green door wi’ a brass knocker." The youth eyed the plot of land that Frank had pointed to, and nodded his head. "It would look well there - and when it comes to the building, Frank, you’ll be the man that’ll draw it up!" Frank caught his arm. "Dont forget that, Joe, I’ll be the man that'll build it." "Its a promise, Frank, I wont forget!" and they both laughed. Having learnt Frank's requirements for the shop, Hamilton himself supervised the buying of the heavy- timber, sheeting, brackets and shelving. Andrew laboured manfully to cut a larger window in the ancient stone wall of the cottage, and Sarah, with Joe to advise her, applied her shrewd mind to the purchase of stock for the shop. During the day, Frank had the help of Andrew when he was free from farm-work, and a labourer, Martin McSherry, who could put his hand to coarse cappentry. Hamilton rarely went near the cottage during the daytime, but in the evening, when his work was finished, he would take a stroll up Knocknadreemally to see what progress Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 836 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna257 Manuscript November, McSherry English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna257 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna257_0.jpg LHL Archive 250 his brother was making. Joe Skillen hurried over as soon as he had cleared his cart and had a meal, but in these early November evenings it was usually dusk by the time he had arrived, and the men were tidying up to go home. As they worked at the old cottage, the fields around them were stripped for the winter, the last ragged leaves were plucked by the wind, and already one or two meadows were barred with ever-widening strips of winter ploughing. Towards the end of the month they had days of warmth, as though the sun had furtively slipped back for one last look at the earth before Winter exiled him. Andrew and McSherry and Joe, who had arrived earlier than usual that evening, were lying on the grass bank opposite the cottage enjoying the glow if not the heat of the sinking sun. From where they lay they could hear the subdued chink of tools from the cottage where Frank was finishing his day’s work. The work was going well, and Joe was expressing his satisfaction while Andrew and McSherry listened with modest pleasure, as all good workmen should. It was MeSherry who saw the ridge of the roof buckle and cave in, leisurely and without a sound. He watched it with staring eyes, too astounded to cry out to the other men. With a shout he sprang up and rusher across the road. Like a sigh, a gust of wind laden with the dust of centuries, met him as he ran through the doorway. Then all three of them were struggling through the falling ruin, blinded and choked by crumbling timber, thatch and mortar. They found Frank lying under the broken ridge rafter. Very gently they released him and carried him out to the open air. He was dead when they laid him down on the roadside. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 837 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna258 Manuscript Death, Regret English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna258 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna258_0.jpg LHL Archive 251 Chapter Eleven Frank's death had a deep and lasting effect on the people of Rathard, Skillen's regret at the man's death was intertwined with his much more lively disappointment at the upsetting of his plans, for like many who enter on a project reluctantly, he had come to view the shop on Knocknadreemally with the greatest enthusiasm, seeing himself not only as a merchant, but as a miller and a. strong farmer in the district. To Martha it was a passing shadow, a few tears as brief as a summer shower, and then the thought of her forthcoming marriage again flooded her young life. To Hamilton and Andrew it was the absence of a familiar voice and presence, for men who work end live together become part of each others' lives, for good or ill. It meant more to the elder man, for he had loved his brother, and their life together had been, as he had always understood it to be, and meant it to be, 'woven throughother.' But Frank's death sounded deepest in Sarah's heart. As she stood in the close watching them carry the dead cripple into the house, she glimpsed for the second time in her life the inexorable pattern that they had cease- lessly spun behind their everyday lives, and realised that Frank's death could be traced back, step by step, to their early folly. And what frightened her and subdued her that evening, was the knowledge that she had brought much unhappiness into the life of the deed man. There was something drastically wrong with lives in which ambitions and passions were never disciplined nor checked except by external things that could be seen, weighed up, and overcome. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 838 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna259 Manuscript Bitterness, Letters English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna259 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna259_0.jpg LHL Archive 252 Bt a lifelong preoccupation with other peoples lives is not easily put aside, and that evening she discussed the future in whispers with Joe and Martha. If the youth revealed some bitterness, Sarah accepted it quitely, and when he warned her that he would never consider opening a shop or setting up a home anywhere in the townlands, she cried out "No, no! My god, ye could never do that now!" with so much anger and distress, that Skillen, taken aback, mumbled something about having made other arrangements. In fact, he had come prepared for some shrewd and calculated plan on Sarah’s part, but this time she had none to offer; nothing but an anxious and pathetic interest in what the two young people were going to do after they were married. "After we're married," said Joe, "we're going to start up in Belfast. I could’ve rented a shop on the Newtownards Koad six months ago, and I know it’s still there for the asking." He paused, but Sarah said nothing, so he continued: "It’s a good stand, and with the shipyards throwing a bit o’ work this weather, the people have money among their fingers." "Aye" said Sarah nodding, "that would be a wise move." She hesitated and then added: "The money I offered ye is still there for ye." When Joe bridled, she waved him aside with some of her old impatience. "Maybe you dont want it, but it’s Martha’s due," and the young man was silent. At any other time Sarah would have got a sardonic pleasure from the letters that trickled in after Frank’s death. Many had been laboured out by neighbours who would not have set a foot in Rathard but for the funeral. Now a few of the men appeared under the rowan trees, as sombre and stiff as their Sabbath clothes, refused refreshment, waited silently until the coffin appeared, Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 839 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna260 Manuscript Death, Father English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna260 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna260_0.jpg LHL Archive 255 and walked behind it the polite conventialinal distance, when they turned home again, and left the relatives to convoy it to the graveyard. They had put in an appearance not so much to pay their respects to the dead man, as to Death itself. But there was one visitor to Rathard that afternoon, who entered the house without restraint or question. Sarah, who had been watching the straggling group of neighbours from the window, was surprised to see a young clergyman entering the close. "Andra!" she called, "Andra, go and tell Hami a minister’s coming up to the house!" Andrew came and looked over her shoulder. "Ye needn’t worry" he said. "Hamilton knows. He sent word to him yesterday. It’s the new minister - but he was to meet us at the graveyard." As she haerd the clergyman approaching the door, Sarah turned to meet him. He paused for a moment on the threshold and then came forward with outstretched hand. "We haven’t met, I know. But I've heard of you." Sarah took his hand gropingly, her eyes fixed on his face. That they had met, was the thought uppermost in her mind, and it brought with it painful memories and echoes of the past. The round pleasant face of the young man beamed down on her. "You think you remember me, perhaps? Many people here do. My name is Sorleyson - my father was minister at Ravara once." "Ah, I remember now," said Sarah, releasing his hand. "But you were never in this district afore, Mr Sorleyson?" "No, I was born a year after my father left here." He looked around questioningly. "Is Mr Echlin about?" "Come wi’ me," said the woman, and led him towards the lower room. "Andra” she called to her son. "You and Martha and Joe may come, too." Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 840 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna261 Manuscript Coffin, Hills English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna261 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna261_0.jpg LHL Archive 254 IsaacV^J^Cl Sorleyson, standing on almost the identical place where his father had stood, years before, offered a brief and simple prayer for the soul of the dead man, and a word of compassion for those of the living. Then the lid of the coffin was screwed down, and the bearers lifted it to carry it out. It had always been a difficult task to carry a coffin through the dark narrow passage between the parlour and the kitchen of Rathard. But the men who carried it were cunning in the handling of clumsy inanimate things. Sorleyson, standing in the doorWay of the tiny room where Frank had lain in delirium when his father was carried out, heard the terse whispers from man to man, each order as certain and precise as the movement that followed. Take her round an inch at the butt .... up a handsbreadth at the jamb, Andra, and we're through. So the strong living men carried their dead brother out into the light, as they themselves would be carried out some day, earlier or later. Then, when the coffin was raised by the first relay of bearers, the neighbouring-men coiled slowly after it, none pressing forward for fear of usurping the place of the relatives. So Frank Echlin was carried away from Rathard, with the men of the townlands following him, and Sarah snd Martha, standing among the rowan trees, watched his coffin and the darkclad figures stumbling under it, until all disappeared into the folds of the little hills. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 841 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna262 Manuscript Souls, Red English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna262 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna262_0.jpg LHL Archive 255 Chapter Twelve Then followed those days when the memory closes over and subsides like a new grave, only for small insignificant things to thumb it open harshly. Sarah picking up the empty water bucket and calling "Frank!" and then standing silent, fearful that the others might have heard. Hamilton and Andrew gloomily completing tasks that had been outside their ken. Martha rushing into the kitchen, trembling with laughter and shouting "Didn't I tell ye . . " and then sinking down on the sofa where there was now no man to tell. But for all that, Martha laughed readily enough in those days of tarnished December skies over which great clouds crept, laden with snow. The shop in the city had been rented, and Joe had taken the girl to inspect the tiny rooms that seemed to have been pushed under the roof by the bustling shop downstairs. She had come back excited by it all; the shop, the tramcars, the picture palaces that promised delight, and the unbelievable number of neighbours she would have - a whole city-full, half-a-million souls! Yet, there was some shadow on their happiness, some sunken log breaking the smooth stream of their lives. Sarah saw it in the silent troubled gaze with which her daughter watched her at times. She wondered why Joe, who had been so energetic and tireless in gathering his new home together, should be so tardy in making arrange- ments for his wedding. At last she spoke to him about it. He turned away from her, his face flushing red. "Aye," he muttered, "there's still another thing to do - I've another matter to redd up." And no matter how much she pressed him, he would say no more. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 842 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna263 Manuscript Tea, Gomartin English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna263 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna263_0.jpg LHL Archive 256 But a day or two later, the matter was made clear to her. a small blue car swept into the close, scattering the hens before it like foam, and the Reverend Mr. Sorleyson climbed out and came up to the house. "How are you all?" he said, smiling in at Sarah and Martha from the door. Sarah returned his smile, indeed, there was something so honest and pleasant about it, that it would have been difficult to resist. "Come in, Mr. Sorleyson. Would ye like a bite o' dinner - or maybe ye wanted to see Mr Echlin?" "No, no. I wanted to see you, and I’ll take a cup of tea with you, if you’ll be so kind." He turned to the girl and put his hand on her shoulder. "Run away out, Martha, and come back in fifteen minutes, will you?" he smiled as he said it, but the hand that urged the girl forward was not to be contradicted. Sorleyson took the cup of tea, stirred it, sipped it, and nodded his approval to Sarah. But his face was grave when he spoke. "Miss Gomartin" he began, and Sarah looked up sharply at the strange title, "I’ve something to tell you, and I want to say it as briefly and - honestly, as I can contrive. You know, of course, that Joe Skillen and your daughter have completed their new home in Belfast, and all that remains to be done is get married?" Sarah nodded, and the minister continued: "Right. Has it not seemed strange to you that there’s been no headway made in the arrangements for the wedding?" "I was wondering that myself, the other day, but when I asked Joe he said something about having another matter to redd up." "Aye. Well, I csn tell you what that other matter is - its you." Sorleyson set his cup and saucer on the floor and leaned back in his chair to watch the women on the other side of the hearth. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 843 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna264 Manuscript Father, Minister English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna264 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna264_0.jpg LHL Archive 257 "Me? Have I done aught to hinder - " There was such a note of fear in her voice, that pity broke through Sorleyson's resolve to be stern, and the words came tumbling from him in response. "No, no! You've been a very good mother to the girl! And yet, cant you see, she's never had a real father and mother? What has happened in this family in the past is bound to give your daughter a sense of shame when she thinks of her own marriage. And she has a responsibility to the future - to her own children, your grandchildren." He paused and leaned forward in his chair. "You would make her a very happy girl, if you marry Hamilton Echlin. That's the obstacle to your daughter's marriage, that's the matter to be redd up." Sarah, crouched in the chair opposite him, did not raise her head. "You - think - that's what 1 maun do?" "Of course I do! I'll say no word about the wrong you have done before God, to yourself, and to the men. Someday, perhaps, you may want to talk about that. But, for all your folly, I believe you've been a brave and courageous woman." At this, Sarah straightened her back and looked the minister in the face. In a lower voice he continued: "There are still many things I have to learn about the world, Sarah Gomartun, some maybe, that you can teach me, but this time you'll be guided by me, for the sake of your children." The woman stretched out her hand, groping towards the young man. As he caught it, she whispered "I will, son, I'll marry him." When he stood up to go, Sorleyson said "You'll want someone to be here when you're married - a witness, a best man, as it were." Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 844 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna265 Manuscript Sarah, Crockery English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna265 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna265_0.jpg LHL Archive 258 A reed of laughter shook in Sarahs voice as she answered "Aye, we'll want a best man." They passed through the doorway and stood in the open air. She nodded to where her son, a silhouette against the sky- line, dragged a recalcitrant bullock across the lough field. "Andra could come wi' us." My God, said Sorleyson to himself, and turned his mind from the thought as Sarah asked "And the sexton o' the church'll be there?" "The sexton - of the church?'* "Aye. We'll be married in Ravara Church, and as soon as ye can manage it." As if she guessed what was in his thoughts, she swept her eyes disdainfully over the countryside. "I'm too old now to be caring what they think." "Well, I'll arrange it for you. Say a week from Wednesday. Goodbye, Sarah, I'm glad I came. I hope I've made a friend in you." Sarah returned the pressure of his hand, her eyes smiling into his. "Thank ye, thank ye" she said, and she watched the old blue car until it had clattered out of sight. That evening Sarah was restless. Half-a-dozen times she picked up her glowering hoops, only to drop them again and wander aimlessly round the house, arranging and re-arranging the crockery on the dresser, the ornaments on the parlour mantelshelf, or to pluck the already lawn-smooth quilt on the spare bed. Then she lit a candle stealthily, and holding it up, examined her face in the parlour mirror. She got a brush and tried to arrange her still heavy hair over a white strand at her forehead. With a towel she rubbed her cheeks until they burned. When Andrew had gone to bed, Hamilton realised that Sarah was not in the kitchen. He dragged his chair forward and gazed into the black mouth of the passage. Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 845 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna266 Manuscript Married, Thursday English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna266 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna266_0.jpg LHL Archive 259 "What are ye doing down there in the dark, woman?he * called. "Nothing, nothing!" cried Sarah from the room, end came running light-foot into the kitchen. Her eyes were wide and bright and a red glow pulsed on her pale cheeks. Hamilton stared reproachfully over his paper at her. "Well, sit down here and close the door like a good woman. There’s a powerful draught wi' ye leaving it open." Obediently she closed the door and sat down beside him. Then after a time she spoke. "Hami, Mr Sorleyson, the minister, was here the-day." "Aye?" said Hamilton, without lowering his paper. "He wants us to get married" Hamilton dropped his paper in concertina folds on his knees. "He what?" "He says we'll have to get married afore Martha can get married." "Ah" said Hamilton, gazing into the fire. "And when's this tae be done?" "On Wednesday's-a-week." The man raised his head. "Wednesday? Then I maun go tae Killyleagh for coals on the Thursday?" The woman’s eyes widened and her lips quivered. She looked at the dark gaunt mein as he sat there, his face bathed in shadow, his earth-stained hands stretched on the arms of his chair. For an instant a crystal of angry laughter glowed in her eyes. "Aye, ye may go tae Killy- leagh for coals on the Thursday!" She set the words down like plates clinking on a table-top. She stood up abruptly. "I’m away to my bed now"she said, and as she left the kitchen, there was the faintest flounce to her step. Hamilton pulled off his socks and hung them on the crane. He held out his naked soles to the glowing embers and sighed with pleasure. Then he got up and turned out Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 846 Part Three Linen Hall Library 1951 Linen Hall Library Thursday, April 7, 2016 TIFF Hanna267 Manuscript Flame, Shadows English https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna267 Linen Hall Library Linen Hall Library Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna267_0.jpg LHL Archive 260 the lamp and ran it up to the roof. A nimbus of flame danced for a moment in the globe, flickered and vanished, and from all the corners of the kitchen, ancient shadows crept out, silent-footed, to sit by the dying fire. - THE EN D - Text ​Sam Hanna Bell Wednesday, July 27, 2016 - 16:03 847