The Dilemma Of Matty The Goat

________________________________________________
Title:     The Dilemma Of Matty The Goat
Author: Seumas O'Brien [More Titles by O'Brien]

"God bless all here," said Padna, as he pushed open the half-door, and saw Micus sitting by the fireside, reading the newspaper.

"And you too," said Micus, as he turned around and beheld his old friend.

"'Tis a cold night," said Padna.

"A blighting night surely," said Micus. "The wind is coming from the southwest, and we will have rain before morning."

"Indeed we will, as sure as there are fools in Paris," said Padna.

"Why don't you come in?" asked Micus. "Surely you know your way to the hearth?"

"If I don't, I ought," said Padna, as he walked in, closed the door, and occupied a vacant chair beside Micus.

"What brought you out to-night, at all?" said Micus.

"Wisha, nothing in particular, except that I have a story to tell you," replied Padna.

"I'm glad to hear that," said Micus, as he placed some faggots and turf on the fire. "Draw closer and get the benefit of the heat, and you will feel better while you are telling the story."

"Thank you," said Padna, as he moved his chair, and then he lit his pipe with one of the paper pipe-lights that lay on the mantel shelf.

"Is it a story of love or adventure that I am about to hear?" asked Micus.

"'Tis a story of both," said Padna.

"Begin then," said Micus.

"All right," said Padna. And this is what he told:

"Once upon a time, and not very long ago either, there lived a man, a friend of mine, and known to all as one Matty the Goat from Ballydineen. He wasn't much to look at, God help us! but he was a remarkable man, nevertheless. He always tried to live in peace and quietness, but he had two wives, and--"

"How could he have two wives in an old-fashioned country like this, might I ask?" said Micus.

"Well," said Padna, "his first wife had a bad memory, and she forgot she was married, and one fine day she went away to Australia to see the kangaroos, and remained away so long that Matty thought she was dead, or captured by some traveling showman, to be exhibited in a circus, because she was so ugly and bad-tempered, no one else would think of running away with her. So like all men of susceptible and sentimental propensities, his affection for his first love only lasted until he met the second. Of course, when the years passed, and there were no tidings of his wife, he said to himself that he might as well marry again, and accordingly he did so. Well, lo and behold! he was only about twelve months married, and his second wife was beginning to cut down his rations from three boiled duck eggs every morning to one small hen egg that a wren would be ashamed to lay, when a great calamity befell him. His first wife came back, and she less attractive looking than ever. But to be sure she made all the excuses and apologies, as only a woman can, for her lapse of memory and thoughtlessness, and there and then she abused poor Matty for not writing to her and sending cards at Christmas and Easter, and he not knowing where to find her at all, no more than a crow could find his grandmother. But to make a long story as short as a bulldog's temper, poor Matty nearly lost his senses between his two wives, and one only more unreasonable than the other, and the two together less reasonable than any ordinary person, who would have no sense at all. 'So,' ses Matty to himself, 'what, in the name of all that's ridiculous, am I to do now? If I'll stay here in the town, I'll be arrested and imprisoned for having two wives, but that itself would be better than trying to please either one or the other, not to mention both. And if I'll run away I'll be arrested for deserting them. And if either the law of the land, or my conscience had no power over me, and I tried to live with both, I'd be as mad as a March hare in less than a month. Anyway, 'tis a clear case of being obliterated by circumstances over which one has no control. That's the last consolation a man always offers himself when he cannot get out of a difficulty. There is but one thing for me to do now, and that is to commit suicide by ending my life.'

"And when he made that decision he came to me and ses: 'Padna,' ses he, 'I have made up my mind to take the shortest cut to the other world.'

"'Wisha, I don't believe a word of it,' ses I. 'People who have pluck enough to commit suicide usually have too much pride to boast of it beforehand.'

"'Well, you can't boast or talk of it afterwards,' ses he.

"'That's true, too,' ses I. 'But when is the event going to come off?'

"'I can't say for certain,' ses he. 'But 'twill be as soon as ever I can make up my mind whether New York or Boston would be the best place for me to end my days, and maybe 'tis yourself that could give advice, and tell me what to do.'

"'Bedad,' ses I, 'giving advice is oftentimes as foolish as taking it. However, that's too weighty a problem for a poor man like myself. You must consult some one with more sense. But if I were you, I'd see the King of Spain himself about the matter. He is the one man who I think can help you.'

"'That's a great idea,' ses he. And with that he bid me 'Good day,' and on the morrow he set sail in a full-rigged ship for the sunny land of Spain. And when he reached the Royal Palace, and rang the bell, the King himself opened the door, and he dressed in a smoking cap, and puffing away from a clay pipe that his mother brought from Bantry when she was there for the good of her manners. And before he asked Matty who he was, how he was, or what he wanted, he up and ses: 'Have you a match?' ses he.

"'To be sure I have a match,' ses Matty. And there and then, he struck a match on the heel of his shoe and lit the King's pipe. And when the King thanked him for his kindness, and complimented him on his skill, then ses he: 'Who the blazes are you anyway to disturb a decent man after a hard day's work? I ate no less than five dinners this blessed day and as many more breakfasts, not to mention all the tobacco that I smoked besides, since I got out of bed this morning.'

"'Oh,' ses Matty, 'I am one Matty the Goat. My father kept a tailor's shop at the corner of a street in Ballydineen; I have two brothers policemen in the great United States of America; I have a first cousin married to a schoolmaster in the north of Antrim; five of my ancestors died from the whooping cough, and one of my grandaunts fell down-stairs and broke her neck; my--'

"'Enough!' ses the King. 'Wait there till I get my autograph book.' And with that he ran up-stairs, and when he came back he handed Matty a mighty book all bound in green plush and ses: 'Matty of Ballydineen,' ses he, 'put your name down there beside the names of the Emperor of Japan and the King of the Killavullen Islands.'

"And when his name was written, the King rang for the Queen and all the children, and in a twinkling they appeared, and they dressed as well as any of the young ladies you'd see selling knick-knacks behind a counter in one of the shops of the big cities. And as they gathered around the King, he up and ses with a solemn voice: 'Ladies and gentlemen,' ses he, 'allow me to have the pleasure of presenting to you a member of the Ballydineen aristocracy, one Matty the Goat.' And when the ceremony of introduction was all over, he sent them up-stairs to get their autograph books, so that Matty could contribute his signature to the long list of celebrities and distinguished personages. The Queen herself was delighted with him entirely, and the King invited him to his private room. And when they were comfortably seated before a good warm fire, he up and ses: 'What in the name of all the cockroaches in Carrigmacross brought you here, anyway?'

"'A very serious matter, indeed,' ses Matty. 'I came to look for advice. I am a man with no less than two wives, and--'

"'Don't tell me any more till I give you a drop of the best whiskey,' ses the King. And with that he filled a glass for Matty and another for himself, and ses: 'There is only one worse thing that could happen a man, and that is to have three wives, or half a dozen foolish sisters-in-law.'

"'Well,' ses Matty, 'I am about to commit suicide, and the devil blast the one of me can make up my mind whether Boston or New York would be the best place to hang my carcass to a lamp-post, jump off a high building, or throw myself under a motor car going at full speed.'

"'Bedad,' ses the King, 'that's something that requires consideration. But let us talk the matter over. Two heads, like two dollars, are better than one, and 'twas by talking and thinking, and holding commune with each other that the Greeks achieved so much in the olden times. We will take the case of Boston first. Boston I believe is a great place and 'tis called the Hub of the Universe. Isn't it?'

"'It is, God help us!' ses Matty.

"'I wonder why at all?' ses the King.

"'I don't think that any one really knows,' ses Matty, 'unless that it is as good a title as any other, and maybe somewhat better.'

"'If that's the case,' ses the King, 'now's the chance for some one to make a discovery.

"'A man, I presume,' ses he, 'could live very comfortably in Boston if he had a lot of money.'

"'Indeed, he could,' ses Matty, 'and live there without any money, if he was lucky enough to be a dethroned monarch of some kind or other, or the inventor of a new religion.'

"'The invention of new religions,' ses the King, 'doesn't seem to beget a spirit of communism, nor does it seem to bring us any nearer Christianity in its ideal state. All the same, I suppose a large city like Boston must have a mayor to look after himself and his people.'

"'Of course, Boston has a mayor and an ex-mayor too,' ses Matty.

"'Bedad,' ses the King, 'as sure as there are bones in a sprat, that must be the reason why 'tis called the Hub. And I dare say,' ses he, 'they must have poets in Boston also.'

"'They have,' ses Matty, 'in the churchyards.'

"'That's the best place for them,' ses the King. 'They will be more respected and appreciated there than anywhere else. Besides, 'tis wiser, cheaper, and more cultured to patronize poets and philosophers when they are dead and famous, than to run the risk of being ridiculed for having the wit to recognise them while they are alive. A poet, God help us, seldom does any good for himself, but nevertheless he can always be an advantage to posterity, his relations, and the booksellers, after he is dead long enough to be misunderstood,' ses the King.

"''Tis the devil of a thing to be poor,' ses Matty.

"'Not at all, man,' ses the King. 'Poverty, as the Cardinal said to the Hibernians, is a gift of God.'

"'A gift of God?'

"'Yes.'

"'Well, then, 'tisn't much of a gift,' ses Matty.

"'No,' ses the King, 'you wouldn't think of comparing it to the gift of stupidity, which is the greatest of all gifts, especially when 'tis accompanied by an optimism that nothing could disturb but the gift of poverty itself.'

"'But be all that as it may,' ses Matty, 'no one should give anything away for nothing without making sure that they are going to get something for it.'

"'Well, if that wouldn't make an optimist of a man, nothing would,' ses the King.

"'What is an optimist?' ses Matty.

"'An optimist,' ses the King, 'is a pessimist who has acquired the art of self-deception.'

"'And what is a pessimist then?' ses Matty.

"'Oh,' ses the King, 'a pessimist is one who has got tired of being an optimist. And now,' ses he, 'maybe you could tell me what is the difference between an Irishman and an Irish-American?'

"'An Irishman,' ses Matty, 'by reason of the fact that he was born in Ireland and the product of an older civilization thinks he is a better Irishman than the Irish-American; and the Irish-American by reason of the fact that he was born an American and the product of a younger civilization, thinks he is a better German than an Irish-Irishman.'

"'If that is the case,' ses the King, 'I wouldn't advise you to commit suicide in Boston, because there are too many Irish-Americans there. And by all accounts the devil a bit they know or care about the Irish, no more than the English themselves. Now let us consider New York. What is the difference between New York and Boston, I wonder?'

"'There are more tall hats and silk neckties in New York,' ses Matty. 'And a native genius could go to his grave undiscovered there as easily as he could in Boston, while the patrons of art and men of letters would be feasting and entertaining foreign celebrities who don't give a traneen about them.'

"''Tis a queer world,' ses the King. 'And sure 'tis a genius you are yourself, and if I were you, I wouldn't commit suicide in either place. Personally, I think Madrid would be as good as any. Howsomever,' ses he, 'I will ask my Lord High Chancellor and his Court of Learned Men about the matter, and if they can't decide between now and to-morrow morning, I will have them all hanged, drawn, and quartered, and advertise for a more efficient staff of attendants.'

"'Bedad, you're a gentleman,' ses Matty, 'and I'm glad to know that you don't show any leniency to your subordinates, because the instant you do so, they begin to think they are as good, as bad, or even worse than yourself, as the case may be.'

"'Treat all those above and beneath you with as little consideration as possible, and you will always be sure of respect,' ses the King.

"'There is nothing like being a fool when you have to deal with foolish people, and to behave sensibly under such circumstances would only break a man's heart.'

"'I notice that you are talking hoarse,' ses the King. 'Is it the way that you have a cold?'

"''Tis a bad cold I have then,' ses Matty. 'And I'm afraid of my life that I may die before I will commit suicide.'

"'That would never do,' ses the King. And then and there he rang for the Queen, and told her to bathe Matty's feet in a tub of hot water, with plenty of mustard in it. And when the Queen had finished drying his toes, the King ordered a good glass of rum for him and ses: 'Matty of Ballydineen,' ses he, 'take this little toothful of sailor's coffee, and bury yourself under the blankets as quick as you can.'

"'Thank you, ever so much,' ses Matty, 'but where am I to sleep?'

"'You will sleep with me, of course,' ses the King. ''Twould never do if anything were to happen to you at such a critical time in your life.'

"So Matty slept with the King of Spain that night, but about two in the morning the King woke Matty with his snoring. Well, that was more than Matty could stand, and he lost his temper and gave the King a poke in the ribs with the heel of his fist, as he ses: 'What the blazes do you mean by depriving a decent man of his sleep like this for?' ses he.

"'Wisha, was it the way I was snoring again?' ses the King.

"'Why, I thought the last day had come, with the noise you were making with that trumpet of a nose of yours,' ses Matty.

"'That's too bad,' ses the King. 'I'll keep awake for the remainder of the night lest I might disturb you again.' And then they started talking about old times and the price of potatoes, ladies' hats, and fancy petticoats. But suddenly the King changed the subject, and ses: 'Tell me,' ses he, 'are the schoolmasters as ignorant, as conceited, and as pompous as ever?'

"''Tis only worse they are getting,' ses Matty, 'notwithstanding the cheapness of literature and free education.'

"'I am sorry to hear that,' ses the King. And so they discussed everything under the sun from bird-catching to cock-fighting until morning came. And when they were called for breakfast, they rushed to the dining-room, and found the Queen and all the children seated around the table waiting for their bacon and eggs to be fried. The King, of course, was duly impressed, and as he sat down, and placed the newspaper in front of the sugar bowl to get a better view of it, he up and ses to the Queen: 'Good morning, ma'am,' ses he. 'What's the good word?'

"'The Lord High Chancellor and all his staff could not decide whether New York or Boston would be the best place for our worthy and distinguished guest to commit suicide, so they all hanged themselves during the night to save you the trouble of having it done to-day.'

"'Well,' ses the King to Matty, 'isn't it a great thing to have men in your employment who can show so much respect for yourself and such consideration for your feelings?'

"''Tis always a great pleasure, to get others to do what you wouldn't do yourself,' ses Matty.

"Then the King turned to the Queen and ses: 'They were good faithful servants, but like all of their kind they thought too little about themselves, and too much about those they tried to serve. The man who doesn't consider himself first in all things deserves to be considered last by everybody. Howsomever, they deserved to be buried anyway, so give orders to have them all cut down and sent home to their own people. They have the best right to them, now that they are no more use to any one else. But keep their old clothes and send them to the Salvation Army. 'Tis better, indeed, that the poor should have their overcoats and nightshirts than the moths to eat them.'

"'Of course,' ses Matty, ''tis an ill wind that blows nobody good, but nevertheless, I am as badly off as ever, without one to advise me or to tell me what to do.'

"'Well,' ses the King, 'strictly speaking, when a man doesn't know what to do himself, the devil a much another can do for him. There is nothing cheaper than advice, and oftentimes nothing dearer, that is, if you are foolish enough to take it from everybody. Looking for advice is only a form of diversion with most people, because we all do what we please in the end. And now, between ourselves,' ses he, 'once a man makes up his mind to marry the wrong woman, all the advice in the world won't save him. And once a man is married, he is no longer his own property. I have done my best for you,' ses the King, 'but the world is full of people who can do as little as myself. Howsomever, I will give you a letter of introduction to my friend the President of the United States, as you are on your way to America, and he may be able to help you.'

"'Thank you very much,' ses Matty. 'I have already been in America, and I have had as many letters of introduction as would paper the house for you, but they were no more use to me than they were to Columbus. No more use, I might say, than a fur-lined coat and a pair of warm gloves would be to the Devil himself. But I am none the less grateful for your kindness.'

"'I am glad you are able to appreciate kindness,' ses the King. 'Because very few people know when they are well treated, or when they are well off.'

"'That's a fact,' ses Matty. 'But 'tis the spirit of discontent that keeps the world moving. The man who is satisfied with himself usually proves unsatisfactory to every one else.'

"'But,' ses the King, 'when a man has the gift of being able to please himself, what does it matter, if he displeases every one else? 'Tis nice, of course, to have a lot of friends, but a man's friends very often can cause him more annoyance than his enemies, and he must endure it to prove his inconsistency. Whereas in the case of an enemy, you can always lose your self-respect by abusing him when you are displeased with his success, and no one will think anything the less of you.'

"''Tis only by making allowances and excuses for each other's short-comings and idiosyncracies that we are able to live at all. And if we could see the good in the worst of us as easily as we can see the bad in the best of us, we might think less of ourselves and more of those we despise. 'Tis only by being better than those who are worse than us that we can respect ourselves, I'm thinking,' ses Matty.

"'Well,' ses the King, 'what the devil a man with as much sense as yourself wants committing suicide for is more than I can understand!'

"'Maybe 'tis as well,' ses Matty. 'The less we know about each other, the happier we can be. Nearly every one of us has some disease of the mind or body that shortens our natural existence. Some suffer from too much conceit, others from a shaky heart, or a loose brain caused by a nagging wife, or too much hard work and not enough to eat, and various other causes, but there is always a reason for everything, even the unreasonableness of those who have no reason at all.'

"'Old talk, like this,' ses the King, 'leads nowhere, because no matter how much we may know about art, literature, and music, the very best of us can only be reasonable and sensible when we have nothing to upset us. A hungry man is always angry, and an angry man is never sensible. On the other hand, a man will make a lot of foolish promises and resolutions after a good dinner, and when he begins to get hungry again he will think that he was a fool for having entertained such decent sentiments.'

"'In a word,' ses Matty, 'selfishness is the normal condition of every one. Some are selfish by being decent, and others by being mean, but strictly speaking, there is very little difference between them, because we all please ourselves, no matter what we do.'

"'I know we do,' ses the King, 'and that's why we incur the displeasure of others. But as we are beginning to get involved and going back to where we started like those who discuss, but can't understand theology, or like the bird who flies away in the morning, only to return to its nest at the fall of night, I think we had better finish, now that we have ended, so to speak, and bid each other good-by.'

"'Surely,' ses Matty, ''tisn't the way that you would let me out of doors a cold day like this, without a bit of a topcoat to shelter me from the cold and wind, and I with a touch of the influenza already?'

"'Well,' ses the King, 'I have had enough of your company, and when we get tired of those who have either entertained, helped, or distracted us, we usually find a way of getting rid of them. The greatest mistake in life is to be too kind to any one. When a woman is getting tired of her husband, everything he does to please her only causes her annoyance. But nevertheless, if she has any sense at all, she can't but respect him for wasting his affection on one not worthy of it.'

"'But what about the topcoat?' ses Matty.

"'You'll get it,' ses the King. 'What's the loss of a topcoat, even though it might be a gift itself, compared to getting rid of a troublesome companion? Besides, a man who has made up his mind to commit suicide must be very careful of himself, lest a toothache, a bad attack of neuralgia, or the 'fluenza might cause him to change his mind. Many a man changed his mind for less.'

"So with those few words the King presented Matty with a new overcoat, and walked with him as far as the garden gate at the end of the Castle grounds, and then he ses, the same as they always say in America, 'Good-by, and call again some time.' But he did not say when."

"That seems to be a polite way of telling a person to go to the devil," said Micus.

"'Tis," said Padna, "but we might as well be polite when we can. And sincerity, unless 'tis accompanied by wisdom and discretion, does more harm than good."

"The world has suffered as much from sincere fools as it has from wise scoundrels," said Micus. "But what did Matty do when he took his leave of the King of Spain?"

"After that," said Padna, "he set sail for Persia, and called upon His Majesty the Gaekwar."

"It was the dead of night when he arrived at the Royal Palace, and without the least scruple he roused His Imperial Majesty from his slumbers. And when he put his head out of the window and asked who was there, Matty up and ses: 'Come down-stairs and open the door and I'll tell you.'

"So the Gaekwar came down-stairs in his nightshirt, and when he opened the door to let Matty in, he ses, as he frothed from the mouth with the sheer dint of passion: 'Who, in the name of all the conger eels that are sold as salmon, are you, to bring a decent man from his bed at this hour of the night?'

"'I am one Matty the Goat, my father is dead, my grandfather was a protestant who never got any meat to eat on Fridays, and my great-grandfather could jump the height of himself before he was three sevens.'

"'To hell with your father, your grandfather, and all belonging to you,' ses the Gaekwar. 'I can't for the life of me understand why people will bother their friends and acquaintances by retailing the exploits of their own family every time they get a chance.'

"'Well,' ses Matty, 'we think more of our own, of course, than they do about us, and if we didn't praise them, people might think they were no better than ourselves.'

"'Most people aren't worth praising or remembering anyway,' ses the Gaekwar. 'But that is no reason why you should bring me from my warm bed and have me shaking here like an aspen leaf, and the very stars themselves shivering with the cold.'

"'Sure, 'tis myself that's colder than any star, and I, that had to be out in a raging storm, with wind blowing a hundred miles an hour, and the rain falling and flooding the streets, and every raindrop would fill your hat.'

"'That doesn't interest me in the least,' ses the Gaekwar. 'What I want to know is what brought you here?'

"'I want to know whether 'twould be better to commit suicide in New York or Boston,' ses Matty.

"'Wisha, ten thousand curses, plus the curse of Cromwell on you, for a godson of the Devil, for no one else would try to get another to solve such a problem,' ses he.

"''Tis the way I must have the Devil for a guardian angel, I'm thinking,' ses Matty, 'because I am never out of trouble, God help me.'

"'There are many like you, I am glad to say,' ses the Gaekwar, 'and we are always pleased to find others worse off than ourselves. 'Tis the only compensation we have for being either unfortunate or foolish. Howsomever, come in out of the cold, and we will talk the matter over. But,' ses he, 'you must excuse the untidy condition of the house. The painters and plumbers are working here, and if you know anything at all, you must know what a mess they can make, especially the plumbers.'

"'Indeed, I do,' ses Matty. 'But you needn't make any apologies. I am a man after your own heart and just as humble and maybe as foolish, if not more so.'

"'Nevertheless,' ses the Gaekwar, 'I don't believe 'twould ever occur to me to call on yourself either at the dead of night or the middle of the broad day.'

"'I don't believe it would,' ses Matty.

"'Howsomever,' ses he, 'make yourself comfortable while I'll run up-stairs, and put on my clothes.'

"So Matty drew his chair to the fire, and when the Gaekwar returned, dressed in his new suit and clean collar, Matty ses: 'How is herself and the children?'

"'The children are all right, thank God,' ses the Gaekwar, 'but I am nearly worried to death about herself.'

"'And what's the matter with her?' ses Matty.

"'Oh,' ses the Gaekwar, 'I don't know. She seems to be perfectly happy and contented, and no longer loses her temper, or finds fault with any body or anything.'

"'Bedad,' ses Matty, 'that's a bad and a dangerous sign. Why don't you see a doctor?'

"'I've seen a dozen doctors, but they all say there is no name for her complaint. 'Tis some new disease, and there is no mention of it in the Bible, the modern novel, or the Cornucopia,' ses the Gaekwar.

"'Pharmacopoeia, you mean, I presume,' ses Matty.

"'Yes, yes. That's what I mean. You must excuse my ignorance,' ses he, 'because it isn't necessary for me to be as enlightened as the ordinary poor man who must work for his living. All that's expected of one like myself is to be able to read the sun-dial, lay a few foundation stones once 'n a while, review the troops, and eat a lot of good dinners. And now might I ask how is your wife and family, and what made you take it into your head to commit suicide?' ses the Gaekwar.

"'Well,' ses Matty, 'my trouble is just the reverse of yours. You are upset because your wife is contented and happy, and I am upset because my wives are discontented and unhappy.'

"'Your wives!' ses the Gaekwar, with surprise.

"'Yes,' ses Matty, 'I have two wives.'

"'Not another word,' ses the Gaekwar, 'until you will have three glasses of the best whiskey. 'Tis a wonder that you are above ground at all.'

"'God knows,' ses Matty, 'life is a terrible thing sometimes.'

"'Life,' ses the Gaekwar, 'is what other people make it for us. But even at that we should try and be content, more for our own sake than anything else. Fretting and worrying never made any one look young, and nobody would fret or worry at all if they only thought enough and worked hard enough. Some, you know, believe that we lived before, and that this life is the reward for our virtues in the other world. Indeed, some go so far as to say that this may be Heaven, while others think it must be--'

"'If that's so,' ses Matty, 'I'm glad I didn't meet some of the bla'gards I knew before they were born, so to speak.'

"'I imagine,' ses the Gaekwar, 'that a man with as much sense as you appear to have wouldn't buy a house without first seeing it.'

"'Of course not,' ses Matty.

"'Then what do you want to commit suicide for? That's just like buying a pig in a bag. You don't know what you are going to get until after you have made the purchase. Suicide, for all we know, may be only going from the frying pan into the fire. In a sense, 'tis like exchanging some valuable jewel for a lot of promises. And 'tis my solid belief that none of us know how wicked and foolish we are until we will get a peep at the Book of Records in the world to come. The very thought of that should be enough to keep a man alive forever. If there were as many worlds as there are stars, or grains of sands, then I might be able to understand why a man would want to commit suicide, if he was of a roaming disposition, and wanted to write a book of his travels and adventures. But suppose there is only one world, and that world may be this world, or there may be just another world, and that the next, what then? Anyway, I am surprised at you, an Irishman, not to be able to stand the abuse of two wives after all your race has suffered both from friends and enemies alike for generations. And Ireland's would-be friends, in many ways, have been her worst enemies. However, be that as it may, I would like to know what you would do if you were like the Sultan of Sparonica, and he with more wives than you could count in a month of Sundays. 'Tis always well to keep what you have until you are sure of getting something better,' ses the Gaekwar.

"'But,' ses Matty, 'suicide is often the fate of a brave man.'

"'No, Matty,' ses the Gaekwar, ''tis ever the fate of a foolish man. Life at its longest is so short that we should all be able to endure it, even when our plans do not work out to our satisfaction.'

"'But when a man loses interest in everything, and--'

"'No man should lose interest in the beautiful things of life. And who indeed will gainsay that life at its longest is too short, especially for a man with a grievance like yourself?'

"'Life is too short to understand women,' ses Matty.

"''Tis easy enough to understand them,' ses the Gaekwar, 'but 'tisn't easy to understand why we go to such trouble to please them.'

"'I'm going to commit suicide rather than try to please them any more,' ses Matty, 'and if I could discover whether New York or Boston would be the better place to end my life, I'd be a happy man.'

"'You might as well die in either place as to jump from the Eiffel Tower, Blarney Castle, Shandon Steeple, or try to swim over Niagara Falls,' ses the Gaekwar.

"''Tis easy to see,' ses Matty, 'that you can't be of any help or consolation to a man like myself. You have too much common-sense to pay any attention to a barking dog, so to speak.'

"'I have, indeed,' ses the Gaekwar. 'You need never muzzle a dog that barks.'

"So with that he shook hands with Matty and ses: 'Good-by, God speed you, long life to you, and may your next trouble be seven daughters. The more trouble we have the less we think about it, and a thorn in a man's toe is nothing to a bullet in his head.'

"After that Matty went to the Czar of all the Russians, and from the Czar to the King of Greece, and after he had spent years traveling the world looking, in vain, for advice as to whether New York or Boston would be the best place to commit suicide, he returned home and to his great surprise learnt that his two wives had married again."

"And what happened then?" said Micus.

"Well, of course, he found he was worse off than ever. He could not decide where to commit suicide, and his wives, the cause of all his trouble and entertainment, would never trouble him again. They were too busy troubling some one else. And lo and behold! the shock stretched him on the flat of his back, and when the doctor told him that he had only a month to live, he turned his face to the wall and died."

"He expected to die of old age, like all would-be suicides, I dare say," said Micus.

"Of course he did," said Padna. "He was just one of the many people whose trouble is their greatest pleasure, and who are never happy only when they are annoying others with their own affairs."

[The end]
Seumas O'Brien's short story: Dilemma Of Matty The Goat

________________________________________________



GO TO TOP OF SCREEN