(Nov. 14, 1908; 38 degrees)
Will stood peering over the wooden rails of the pony pen, when he asked inquisitively, “Grandpa says you imported these ponies all the way from Wales?”
Mr. Mullaney replied, “Aye, an’ so me did. I have family dar, ye know?
“Me Mudder, God rest her soul, she were Welsh. Me Fodder were Irish; he off’en said dat me Mudder was so beautiful dat he spotted her plumb across de Irish sea. So, he made up his mind right den and dar to go fetch her; an’ so he did! A blessin’ for me, for her was a godly Mudder.”
Will marveled to hear a man so respectful of his mother, and then he asked, “I noticed you don’t have any big horses. Do you not like them?”
Mr. Mullaney retorted, “I love ’em! But de frugal blood flowin’ through me veins refuses to feed de gluttons!”
Parting his coat front, and grabbing the galluses of his overalls with both thumbs, he proclaimed: “Now, see dar, Lil’ Will, dar be six of ‘dem mountain ponies weighin’ ’bout 700 pounds each. Now, a truth I tell ya, Laddie, dar ain’ a draft horse alive dat can out pull t-ree of me ponies in a hitch. But de big brute will consume half again more feed in a day dan t-ree of de ponies put togedder!
“Den, dar is versatility! Aye, versatility, I tell ye!”
Mr. Mullaney pointed at a little bay roan mare, and spoke again, “Dat be lil’ Dot, and I can hitch her single to me cart, and be to Paxton in less dan an hour, an’ it bein’ eight miles o’ hill an’ holler de whole long way!”
Then shaking his head, Mr. Mullaney continued, “Ohhh, but don’t try to walk behind the lil’ darlin’ wid a cultivator in de garden, dat is, unless ye be fast as a bolt a lightnin’!
“No! Dat would be Pete’s job, de one standing over dar!”
Mr. Mullaney then pointed to a stout black gelding.
“Aye, dat be Pete…and he will go slowww and easy for deese old legs of mine!”
Will then asked, “Well, what if you need to pull heavy loads?”
Mr. Mullaney smiled and responded, “Den me put em’ all six to hitch! And, ohhhh can dey pull!”
Pointing to a gray stallion with black mane and tail, Will then asked, “Who is he?”
The old gentleman got a solemn look on his face; turning to Will, he replied in a very low, serious tone, “Dat be Derry O’Brien, me calls him Derry boy.”
Hearing his name, and raising his head, the gray pony looked toward the two bystanders.
Mr. Mullaney spoke again, “Remember me tellin’ ye dat God will use nature to teach a man?”
Will nodded his head yes, and Mr. Mullaney continued, “Well, deese ponies are sorta like de church; each one is different, having it’s own strengths and weaknesses. Not every one can make dings happen in a hurry like lil’ Dot, and not everyone is slow natured like ole’ Pete – but all working togedder can get a lot o’ work done. It’s a beautiful thing to watch when it happens! Aye, it tis!”
Listening intently, Will then asked a question he wasn’t certain he wanted an answer to, “And what does that have to do with Derry, sir?”
A cold wind stirred, and tears formed in the old man’s eyes. Wiping his nose on his coat sleeve, he began speaking with great reverence. “Laddie, me Derry boy was named affer a man that has long since passed – a man in our church, back in Ireland; aye, de old days. But ‘llow me to ‘splain. Do ye see dat holler over dar surrounded by hills an’ cedar thickets?”
Mr. Mullaney pointed to a valley about half a mile beyond, and Will nodded yes.
“Well, when a storm is a comin’, ole Derry boy rounds up de herd, and hides in dat holler, until the danger be passed.
“Not only dat, but Derry has a watchful eye at all times on dis farm. Aye! Many a time, me has seen Derry watchin’ below in de valley, and dar is always somethin’ dar, maybe a deer, maybe a coyote. But always be somethin’! All of de udder ponies will be eating, and enjoying de moment, but not ole’ Derry boy, he be de watchman! Always keepin’ an eye out for danger, he is!”
Will responded, “You said he was named after a man?”
Mr. Mullaney continued, “Aye, an’ so he is. Mr. Derry Keith O’Brien. He war’ an old man in our congregation, an’ he be a watchman. Well, by ‘n by, Mr. O’Brien shared wid everyone in our church, dat de Lord had showed him a famine be comin’ to Ireland; an awful one. But, do ye know Laddie, most people ignored him!?
“Ignored him they did! Well, time went by, and nuddeen’ happened, not a thing! People even made fun of ole Mr. O’Brien. But do ye know what he did?”
A little paled, Will responded, “What did he do?”
Mr. Mullaney continued, “He didn’t do anything. He just stood strong as an oak, and bore de wind! For dat is what de name Derry means Laddie – strong as an oak!
“Well, by ‘n by, Mr. O’Brien passed away peacefully in his sleep.” (Isaiah 57:1) “It be de very next year, dat it happened, aye, de Great Famine hit. Ohhhhh, it was so awful Laddie! And as I have told ye before, millions of Irish died from starvation.”
Overcome with grief, Will nodded his head, looking down at the ground, he replied, “And, Mr. O’Brien was gone.”
“Aye”, said Mr. Mullaney as he put his arm around Will, “And many people felt like de fools dey were as der children were dyin’ from nuttin’ to eat!
“Ye see, Mr. O’Brien had warned jus’ as Joseph did in de Bible. Let this be a lesson to ye Laddie. Take it from someone who was dar! Never be a ‘good time Charlie’, when a man of God is warning of danger!” (Isaiah 56:10-12) “Dat danger may not happen tomorrow, but happen i’will.”
The wind whirled again; Mr. Mullaney flipped up his coat collar, jammed both hands in his pockets, and continued, “And me still thinks of it every time ole Derry boy is hiding de herd in de holler.
“Aye! Me thinks, what would have happened if people had listened to Mr. Derry O’Brien, as well as dem ponies do his namesake! Aye, me thinks maybe de ponies have more sense dan de people!”
Lord willing, until next time.