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Litchfield, Litchfield County, Connecticut
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In 19th-century New York, an Irish construction worker named Pat panics over fears of a comet burning the world, delaying his ladder climb; a narrator calms him with assurances, a verbal insurance policy, and advice to trust in hard work and faith, enabling him to continue his task. (214 characters)
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I took notice of an Irishman, with a loaded hod on his shoulder. He repeatedly and devoutly crossed himself; then looking to the top of the building, which he was about to ascend, with a fearful and doubtless airy. He had got one foot on the first round of the ladder, and made sundry motions to raise the other; but seemed at every new trial to be arrested, and as it were pulled back by some unseen hand. As I stood watching his motions and his countenance, he withdrew his eyes from the top of the building, and fixing them upon me, said—
'Do you think it'll come now?'
'What will come?' said I.
'Why the comet to be sure.'
'The comet I suppose you mean?'
'Why yes, I suppose it's all one and the same crathur—that big firey thing that's comin to burn the world all up to nothin, and all the papal that's in it bosides, men, women and childers, and drown all the rest in the middle of the sea. Oh, the cruel bloody-minded crathur, to destroy every body, and not spare tho poor babes themselves, nor their poor fathers that work hard every day to ate 'em and drink 'em! Do you think it'll come now, Misther?'
'Now!' said I.
'Why, yes, if you plase—now, soon—to-day, or to-morrow, or next summer, that is to be?'
'I don't know,' returned I—'I'm not in the secrets of the comet. But I understand very strange calculations are made respecting it.'
'Are you sure,' said he, looking to the top of the building once more, 'that it wont come to-day?'
'Why, really, Pat,' said I, 'that's more than I could positively answer. These comets are very eccentric beings; and there's no knowing what might happen.'
'The devil thrust 'em for me,' said Pat, 'the barbarous crathurs! thoy would'nt mind brushing down an Irishman from the top of a house, any more nor I should mind brushing a fly from the end of me nose. And then I'm inormed they're so hot they'll burn all the flesh off iv ye, and roast your skin to the very bone, without any compunction as it were. You see, Misther, this house here is very high now, even to the very top iv it, as far as it goes; and if the comet should happen to kitch me there on the top, I don't know what would become iv me. I've got a wife and seven small childer, two iv whom are under the sod in swate Ireland, and all depindent on me this very moment for every mouthful iv atin, and drinkin, and ood and clothin, that they wear on their backs, poor crathurs: and that's what makes me aeard to mount this lathor.'
'You need'nt be afraid of the comet to-day, Pat,' said I.
'Needn't I now?' said he, suddenly brightening up: 'bless your honor's sowl for that word. I've been afeard to go up to the top iv this same, for fear the bloody comet should come along afore I could get down again; and destroy me root and branch; and burn the clothes and the skin off iv me; and kill me clean dead as a door-nail; and brush me down with the end iv his tail, to the great danger and destruction iv my life and all the rest iv my bones. And do ye raaly think, now, Misther, that it wont come to-day, that bloody comet?'
'I'll insure you for sixpence, Pat.'
'Well now that's kind iv ye; but the divil a sixpence have I got. Would'nt your honor thrust me till night?'
'Ay, Pat, I'll trust you till the comet comes.'
'Will ye now? Then Misther, you shall have all my insurin. But afore I go up, you'll plase to give me a bit of writin to show that I'm insured.'
'A policy you mean?'
'Ay, 'twould be thrue policy that; or then you saa I could show it to the comet, and let him know that I'm insured.'
'Never mind the policy, Pat; I'll insure you by word of mouth.'
Being satisfied with this, the Irishman mounted the ladder, and emptied his hod. While up there I could perceive that he turned his face to every point of the compass, as though looking for the approach of the dreaded visitor. He presently descended and told me the insurance worked well, 'for the devil a bit,' said he, 'did the comet daro to show his ugly face.'
'But, Pat,' said I, 'comets seldom show themselves in the day-time.'
'Oh, the thieves iv the world!' exclaimed he; 'to come prowlin in the night like any other blackguard, who has'nt an honest face to show. But I don't care a fig for him, that same comet, in the night; because why? I slape down cellar, me and me wife, and all me childer: and the devil a bit can ho find us there, the thief.'
'But,' said I, 'if the world should be burnt up, you'll be likely to go with it.'
'Ah! there it is now; there's no safety for an Irishman at all at all. He's persecuted in Ireland, and burnt to death with a vagabone of a comet in America: and he's no where to hide his head out iv sight; on the top iv the wide world. And then if the tarraqueous globe is destroyed, and all the papal in it, where shall a poor body find employment. There'll be no houses to build, nor no paple to build em; and then what'll a poor hod-carrier do? Blessed St. Pathrick! what'll become iv me?'
'Never fear, Pat,' said I. 'trust in your patron saint; be honest, industrious, and temperate; and let the comet come when it will, it will never hurt you.'
'Bless your honor's sowl for that word!' said Pat: and seeing him mount the ladder with renewed hope and fresh courage, I turned again to look about me.
N. Y. Constellation.
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New York
Story Details
An Irish hod-carrier named Pat refuses to climb a ladder due to superstitious fear that a comet will soon destroy the world by fire, endangering his family; the narrator reassures him it won't come today, verbally insures him, and advises trust in St. Patrick, honesty, industry, and temperance, allowing Pat to proceed with renewed courage.