Part 5

It is well known that a great part of the thirty million of deposits held by the Irish joint-stock banks have been lodged by farmers. I have often received deposit receipts when collecting rents. I remember a thrifty man who used to lodge his savings when they reached even five pounds. On the rent-day, it was his annual custom to enlarge on the badness of the times and the low prices; but he invariably supplied the best refutation of his statements by producing a number of deposit receipts for small sums and indorsing them with much pride.

When the land agitation was at its height a few years ago, a friend of mine was collecting rents one day in a town in the county of Leitrim. He was seated in a large room of a hotel, and nearly fifty tenants were present. Very little money had been paid. Abatements were asked which the agent had no power to make, and there was more conversation than business going on. But my friend understands the Irish character and its love of talk, and he knew that if he permitted the men to expatiate on the reasons why they could not pay, he would be more likely finally to get the money; so, he patiently listened to the usual jeremiades, and bided his time. But fortune favoured him. The ringleader, or chief Land-Leaguer, amongst the assembled tenants was Denis Lynch. He held a small farm, but was also a cattle-dealer, and his time was of value to him; and finding he could extract no further concession from the agent, who had offered a fair abatement, he announced that he would pay a half-year’s rent.

‘I must be off,’ he said, ‘to the fair of Boyle, sir, an’ can’t delay here, like those men. Here is a deposit receipt for ten pounds, an’ the half-year’s rint is nine pounds. But be all the saints, yer honour, I made the little thrifle by dealing, an’ not out of the farm!’

‘Well, Denis,’ said the agent, ‘you could not deal in cattle without a farm to feed and rest your stock; and I have told you that I am instructed not to accept less than a year’s rent. But’—glancing at the deposit receipt, which he had taken from the man, and turning it down on the table—‘indorse this receipt, and I will consider your case.’

Lynch wrote his name across the back of the document; and the other adding his own signature, said to his clerk: ‘Take this receipt to the bank up the street and fetch me pound-notes for it.’ He then proceeded to fill a form of receipt for a year’s rent, and handed it to Lynch, who was astute enough to see that he might profit by what he supposed was an error, and quietly folded up the receipt and put it into his pocket.

When the clerk returned, the agent said: ‘Now, Denis, here is your change;’ and he began counting and pushing across the table, to the astonished tenant, note after note.

‘O sir,’ cried Lynch, ‘what are ye doin’ at all?’

‘Why, Denis,’ replied the other, ‘I am paying what is due to you. You gave me a deposit receipt for one hundred pounds; you have got a receipt for a year’s rent; and here are eighty-two one-pound notes, together with eighteen shillings in silver, which is five per cent. discount on your rent. You can’t blame me for retaining a year’s rent—you accepted a receipt for it. And indeed, when a man has hundreds at his banker’s, he may fairly be required to pay his rent in full. Yet, I make you an allowance. You cannot suppose, after what has taken place, and your readiness to avail yourself of what you believed to be an error in the rent receipt, that you should receive the ten per cent. abatement offered to the tenants generally. I have given you half of it, not wishing to be severe. But your tricks have not succeeded; and I hope you won’t forget the lesson of to-day, and that you will remember in future that honesty is the best policy.’

All eyes in the room were turned on Lynch, who hastily gathered up the notes and stuffed them into his pockets; and as he made his way to the door, he was heard to murmur, ‘Begorra, ’twas the wrong receipt!’

He departed, feeling he had lost all title to leadership; and as men will still worship success, even when accidental, many voices joined in complimenting ‘his honour, who was too sharp for Denis Lynch, who thought to act the rogue, but met wid a mistake, glory be to God!’

‘His honour’ was soon busily employed in receiving the full rents, which nearly all the tenants had brought with them. But he believes his collection on that day would have been a very small one, if Denis Lynch had not presented the ‘wrong’ deposit receipt.

‘CLERGYMAN’S SORE THROAT.’

Dr Thomas Whipham, M.B., F.R.C.P., physician to St George’s Hospital, and in charge of the department for Diseases of the Throat there, claims to have discovered the origin of ‘clergyman’s sore throat,’ a disorder which often proves so troublesome to ministers of religion. He was struck, it appears, by the circumstance that barristers—from whom as great oratorical efforts are exacted as from clergymen—do not suffer from this highly painful and inconvenient form of sore throat. He looked around for an explanation, and endeavoured, at first, to trace it to adverse atmospheric conditions. But he early decided that the air of a crowded court of law must be more injurious than that of an ordinary place of worship; and hence he was forced to seek elsewhere a satisfactory solution of the problem he had set himself. At length the different positions, in relation to their auditors, from which clergymen and barristers spoke, suggested itself for consideration. While a barrister slightly threw back his head in addressing the judge and jury who were seated above him, the clergyman depressed his in addressing the congregation seated below him. Experiments were made with a man reading aloud with his head in the two positions. In the first, the tone of his voice was clear and penetrating, and phonation was practised with a minimum of exertion; in the second, the tone grew muffled, and the previous distinctness could only be approximated with additional effort. Nor was indistinct utterance the only result recorded of the experiment in the second position. The friction of the air passing through the throat of the reader was very much increased. Thus, says Dr Whipham, hyperæmia was established in the parts affected by this excessive friction; and temporary hyperæmia, if frequently encouraged, soon becomes chronic congestion. Dr Whipham was satisfied that he had arrived at the true cause of ‘clergyman’s sore throat;’ and facts soon came to confirm his impression. Two clergymen, hailing from different parts of the country, placed themselves under treatment for the disorder, which had long held a hold on them. They were directed, in speaking from the pulpit, for the future to hold their heads well up, instead of allowing them to droop forwards and downwards. Both soon reported ‘a speedy relief from their suffering.’

IN THE DISTANT YEARS.

We met last in the distant years, And parted, ne’er to meet again; My aching eyes were filled with tears, My heart was sore with untold pain. But, though we parted thus for aye, A lingering hope my heart yet holds, That we may meet again some day Ere Death shall shroud us in his folds.

We parted; ’twas the old, old way; A too well-trusted friend’s deceit Had taken each from each away, Both hoping nevermore to meet. _He_ thought that I was false; while _I_, Enshadowed under falsehood’s spell, In anger said a last good-bye To him I once had loved so well.

But now I know the truth at last; I would I knew _he_ knew the same, To come to me from out the past And tell me I was not to blame. But, ah! ’tis maybe all too late: That day of joy may never dawn; I can no more than watch and wait, And through the future years hope on.

J. A. M‘DONALD.

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