Read Online An Irish Christmas Feast by John B. Keane - Free Book Online

friend Fred, fortunately for their enterprise, eschewed conversation too except when it was absolutely necessary. Fred’s wife, alas, was the opposite, a most congenial creature who, if afforded the opportunity, would spend hours at a time conversing with friends and neighbours and, when neither was available, with total strangers willing to pass the time of day. She was a woman without malice and even Fred, who rarely paid heed to her harmless narratives, would be the first to concede that his wife was incapable of misrepresentation or character assassination.
    As was her wont every evening after supper, she made her way to the parish church where others like her and a small number of elderly males attended evening devotions. On the way home the good woman could not resist the waylaying of a neighbour to whom she secretly conveyed all the details of her husband’s forthcoming expedition with his friend Ned Muddle.
    â€˜I know,’ Fred’s wife entreated her companion, ‘that you won’t breathe a word to a living soul.’
    â€˜Did I ever!’ came the sincere response while she hurried off as quickly as her legs would take her in order to disclose the news of the planned undertaking to every Tom, Dick and Harry who would listen. Most took little notice for the good reason that previous disclosures by this particular informant had always turned out to be fabrications. Others, however, notably the wives and sweethearts of the village’s established poachers, listened well and informed their menfolk. The menfolk bided their time.
    No man bides his time as well as a poacher. This is because poachers, due to the secrecy imposed by their calling, are professional time-biders but how exactly do they bide it, one might well ask! The answer is by not seeming to bide it but by committing themselves wholeheartedly to a diversion far removed from poaching such as card-playing or dart-throwing or, in the case of younger, unmarried members of this close-knit fraternity, to the unremitting pursuit of unattached females.
    As the evening dragged itself out Ned and Fred passed the time spying on the village resident water-keepers. There were but two. Others from outlying villages would be summoned whenever the district inspector felt it was necessary to do so. The water-keepers lived close together. The friends maintained their vigil and expressed no surprise when one keeper visited the house of the other with his wife a half-hour before midnight. Ten minutes later the four emerged together and made their way towards the parish church where the celebration of midnight mass would begin on the stroke of midnight and where, God willing, the hearts of men and women would expand with the goodness, the charity and the forgiveness that only Christmas can generate.
    As soon as they had seen the water-keepers and their wives safely into the brightly lit bosom of the church Fred and Ned made haste to the bedroom of the latter’s house where they collected the cage. Fred led the way. Ned followed with the cage. They avoided the village’s main street and its attendant laneways. Occasionally as they passed isolated homes a dog would bark and as they neared the river a homebound drunkard shouted a minor obscenity as a prelude to extending the season’s greetings. These they returned and continued cautiously along their way. After a mere five minutes they found themselves on the bank of the river less than two hundred yards from the village. They were somewhat apprehensive after the setting of the trap since they observed from the river bank that the light from the nearest street lamps brightened the area where they had placed it. Then, unexpectedly, from the south-west there arrived upon the scene overhead a sizable cloud which obscured the moon and brought welcome darkness to the immediate scene. It would be followed by other clouds for the remainder of their stay so that, all in all, it would be a night of