Tag: Humour

A Strange Burial

A Fairy Encounter

Many years ago, there lived a hard-working farmer named Liam Mooney, who lived on the borderlands between County Armagh and County Louth. Times had been harsh for many seasons and there was little money to be made from poor harvests. Then, one day, the landlord came to Liam and told him, “You owe me three years’ rent now, and unless you can pay it all to me within the week, I’ll throw you, and all of your family out on the road.”

“Ah, sir,” replied Liam, “I will be going to Newry tomorrow with a load of wheat to sell, and when I get it all sold, I will be able pay you all that I owe.”

Next morning, Liam put a load of wheat on the cart, and headed off to market with it. But, after he had travelled only a couple of miles from his house, he met a prosperous looking gentleman, who asked him, “Is that a load of wheat that you’ve got on your cart?”

“It is, indeed,” replied Liam, “and I’m going to sell it at the market so that I can pay my rent.”

”How much is there in that load?” the gentleman asked politely.

“There’s a ton in it,” said Liam with a certain pride.

“I’ll buy it from you,” said the gentleman, “and I’ll give you the best price that’s going in the market. Now, when you reach the cart track that’s on your left, turn down it and continue along the track until you come to a big house in the valley. I’ll be there before you arrive, and I can give you your money.”

Pleased with the deal he had struck, Liam came to the cart track he turned in, continuing on his way, as instructed, until he came as far as the big house described by the gentleman. Liam then began to wonder, when he came as far as the big house, for having been born and raised in this part of the country he had never seen this building before, and he thought he was familiar with every house within five miles of where he lived. When Liam came near to the barn that was close to the big house, a small boy came running out and said, “Good man Liam Mooney, you’re very welcome.” The boy then lifted a sack onto his back and went into the barn with it. Almost immediately another little lad came out and welcomed Liam, put a sack on his back, and went into the barn with it. Very soon various lads were coming out, welcoming Liam, and putting the sacks on their backs to carry them into the barn, until the entire ton of wheat was all gone.

It was then that all the boys came around Liam, who told them plainly, “You boys all know me, and I don’t know one of you!”

One of the boys stepped forward and replied to Liam, saying, ”Go in and eat your dinner, for the master’s waiting for you.”

Liam went into the main house and sat down at the table to eat. But he had not taken a second mouthful when he began to feel a heavy sleep overcame him, and he fell down under the table. Then this mysterious gentleman used his magic powers to fabricate a man in Liam’s image, and then sent him home to William’s wife with the horse and cart. When the false Liam eventually arrived at Liam’s house, he went into the bedroom, where he laid himself down on the bed and died.

Within a few hours the news had spread far and wide that Liam Mooney had died. The wife put some water on the fire to heat and, when it was hot, she washed the body of her ‘husband’ and laid it out to be waked. His friends and neighbours from all over the district came to the house, and they grieved for him deeply. There was  also great comfort for Liam’s poor wife, who did not show much grief herself on the passing of her husband, for Liam was an older man and she was quite young.

The next morning saw the poor man’s body buried, and afterwards there was very little thought given to the man. The wife had a young house-boy, and she called him to her and said, “You should marry me, you know, and take Liam’s place.”

“Surely, it’s too early, after himself just dying and his body hardly cold in the ground?” the boy replied. “Wait, at least until Liam has been buried a week.”

Meanwhile, after the real Liam had slept for seven days and seven nights, a little boy came to him and awoke him, saying, “You’ve been asleep for a week, Liam! But we sent your horse and cart home. Now, here’s your money, and you should go.”

Liam, still confused by all that had happened to him, made his way home, and because it was late at night no person saw him. However, on the morning of that same day, Liam’s wife and the young servant lad went to the local priest and asked if he would marry them. “Have you the marriage money?” asked the priest.

“No,” said the wife, “but I have a great beast of a pig at home, and you can have her in place of money.”

The priest accepted, married the couple, and said, “I’ll send for the pig tomorrow.”

When the wife and the servant boy were going to bed that evening, Liam came to the door of his house and struck it a hefty blow. Surprised by the intrusion the newly wedded couple asked, “Who’s there?”

“It’s I,” replied Liam, “Now, open the door for me.”

When they heard the voice, they immediately recognised that it was Liam’s voice. Terrified by this knowledge the wife called out, “I can’t let you in! Sure, it’s a shameful thing for you to be coming back here again, after you have been lying seven days in your grave.”

“Have you gone mad? ” asked Liam.

“No! I’m not a mad woman!” declared the wife. “Sure, doesn’t every person in the entire parish know that you are dead, and that I buried you decently. Now, old man, go back to your grave, and I’ll have a mass read for your poor soul in the morning.”

“Wait until morning comes,” said Liam, “and I’ll give you the weight of a dead man’s boot as the price for all this foolishness!” Angrily he turned from the door and went into the stable, where his horse and the pig were, to stretch himself out on the straw and get some sleep.

Early the next morning, the priest called one of the local lads to him and told him, “Go you to Liam Mooney’s house, and the woman that I married yesterday will give you a pig to bring back to me.”

When the boy came to the door of the house, he began knocking at it with a heavy-stick but the woman of the house was afraid to open it. Instead she called out, “Who’s there ? ”

“It’s me,” said the boy, “the priest has sent me to get a pig-from you.”

“She’s out in the stable,” said the wife, “you can go gather her for yourself, and drive her back with you.”

The lad went into the stable, and he began to drive out the pig, when Liam suddenly rose up and said, “Where are you going with my pig ? ”

When the boy saw Liam he never stopped to look again, but he ran out of there just as hard as he could, and he never stopped running until he came back to the priest. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest with terror that he thought it would burst out of his chest. “What’s the matter with you? ” asked the priest. The lad told him that Liam Rooney was in the stable and wouldn’t let him drive out the pig.

“Hold your tongue, you liar!” scolded the priest. “Liam Rooney’s dead and cold in his grave this week.”

“I don’t care if you say he was in his grave this past seven years, Father, I saw him in the stable two moments ago, and if you don’t believe me, then come yourself, and you’ll see him.”

The priest and the boy then went together to the door of the stable, and the priest told the lad, “Go in and turn me out that pig.”

“What? I wouldn’t go in there for all the money you could get!” said the boy.

The priest went in instead of the boy, and began driving out the pig, when Liam rose up out of the straw and asked, “Where are you going with my pig, Father?”

When the priest saw Liam standing before him, he turned on his heels and ran as if all the devils in hell were after him, crying out, “In the name of God, I order you back to your grave, Liam Rooney.”

Liam began running after the priest, and saying, ”Father, Father, have are you gone mad? Wait and speak to me.”

But the priest would not wait for him and continued to make for home just as fast as his feet could carry him, and when he got into the house, he shut the door behind him. Liam was knocking at the door until he was tired, but the priest would not let him in. Finally, the priest put his head out of an upstairs window of the house, and called to him, “Liam Rooney, go back to your grave.”

” You’re mad. Father! Sure, I’m not dead, and I never was in a grave since I was born,” said Liam.

“I saw you dead,” said the priest; “you died suddenly, and I was present when you were put into the grave. Sure, didn’t I make a fine sermon over you?”

“God preserve us, but, as sure as I’m alive, you’re raging mad !” said Liam.

“Get out of my sight now,” said the priest, “and I’ll read a mass for you, tomorrow.”

Liam went home then, and knocked at his own door, only to fine that his wife would not let him in. Then he said to himself: “I may as well go and pay my rent now.”

On his way to the landlord’s house everyone who saw Liam was running before him, for they thought he was dead. When the landlord heard that Liam Rooney was coming his way, he immediately locked the doors and would not let him in. Liam began knocking frantically at the front-door until the landlord thought he’d break it in, and he went to a window at the top of the house, put out his head, and asked, “What is it that you want? ”

“I’ve come to pay my rent like any honest man,” replied Liam.

“Go back to your grave, and I’ll forgive you your rent,” said the landlord.

“I won’t leave this,” said Liam, “until I get it in writing from you that I’m paid up until next May.”

The lord gave him the written statement he wanted, and he came home again and knocked at his own door. But, once again the wife refused to let him in. She said that Liam Rooney was dead and buried, and that the man at the door was only a deceiver. “I’m no deceiver,” said Liam, “I’m after paying my master three years’ rent, and I’ll have possession of my own house, or else I’ll know the reason why.”

He went to the barn and got a big bar of iron, and it wasn’t long until he broke the door down. The wife and her newly married husband were terrified, for they began to believe that the ‘Last Days’ had come and that the end of the world had arrived. “Why did you think I was dead?” asked Liam.

“Doesn’t everybody in the parish know you’re dead?” said the wife.

“To the devil with you woman,” said Liam, “you’ve been humbugging me long enough now, go and get me something to eat.”

The poor woman was greatly afraid, and she sliced him some meat. Then, when she saw him eating and drinking, she said, “It’s a miracle!”

Then Liam told her his story from first to last, and she told him each thing that happened. Then, and then he said, “I’ll go to the grave to-morrow, to see the body that is buried in my place.”

The next morning Liam brought a lot of men with him to the churchyard, and they dug open the grave. They were raising the coffin, when a huge black dog jumped out of it, and ran off, with Liam and the men chasing after it. They were following it until they saw it going into the house in which Liam had been asleep. Then, suddenly, the ground opened and swallowed the house, and from that moment on nobody ever saw it again, although the big hole that it left is still to be seen unto this day. When Liam and the men went home, they told everything that had happened to the priest of the parish, and he dissolved the marriage between Liam’s wife and the servant boy. Liam lived for years after this, leaving great wealth behind him, and his story is still remembered in that border area.

The Ten Pound Note

wedding

Many, many years ago the weddings of the Irish country peasants were conducted by the priest, who was paid by the voluntary contributions of those guests attending the wedding. The ceremony itself was usually celebrated in the evening and was followed, especially among the wealthier farming classes, by a great feast, to which the priest was always invited. After the supper, when the company are still merry with the food and drink, they have consumed, the hat was passed around for contributions.

Kitty Malone was the prettiest girl in the entire parish, the bridegroom was the luckiest of men on his wedding day. was the bridegroom. You wouldn’t have thought that if you had seen the expression on the man’s face as he stood, looking very ill at ease in a stiff, shiny, brand-new, tight-fitting suit of wedding clothes. Yet, he was the fortunate man to have won Kitty’s heart and was about to claim a beautiful bride, who had fifty pounds to her fortune and three fine cows.

Most of the guests, however, were looking at Kitty. She was sitting beside the priest, very pretty and modest, blushing at the clergyman’s broad jokes. But the female guests were admiring the beautiful ‘white frock’ that she was wearing, many of them envious of its ‘bow-knots’ and trimmings of white satin that adorned the many-skirted garment. “It’s as good as new,” the lady’s maid at the big house assured her when she had bought it. “It was made by one of the finest dressmakers in London, and it has only been worn at a couple of balls. Her ladyship is very particular about her clothes and wouldn’t stand for the slightest sign of a crush or soiling on her gown.”

There is no place where a priest is so good-humoured as when at a wedding. There, in the middle of his jokes and his jollity, he keeps his attention focused on the future dues he would get. All the while, to all the guests, he appears to be absorbed in giving his attention to the pretty bride, whose health he had just drunk to in a steaming tumbler of whisky-punch. But, Father Murphy kept his business eye on the preparations that were being made for sending the plate around the room for his benefit.

wedding 2The stirring began at the end of the table where the farmers were gathered in a large group, and all of them dressed in their finery. Wearing their large heavy greatcoats of fine cloth, their finest trousers, and shiny shoes that reflected the candlelight as they walked. Their lady wives and daughters all dressed in capacious blue, green or scarlet cloth cloaks with a silk-lined hood, which, like the greatcoats of the men, are an indispensable article of clothing in social functions among their class, even on the bad days. And there, as usual, in the middle of that group was Paddy Ryan, who was a sworn friend and supporter of Father Murphy. Paddy was rather small in build and one of the least well-off men in the parish when it came to the possession of worldly goods. But although he had neither a large holding or dairy cattle Paddy was very popular and was considered by most of the men as being good company. Nevertheless, such was his loyalty to the priest, that he would have gone through fire and water to serve his Reverence. As the priest caught sight of his devoted follower, his mind concentrated on Paddy’s actions to the extent that a very nice compliment he was making to the bride was interrupted.

At first, Paddy Ryan took a hold of the collecting plate and appeared to be about to carry it around the guests.  Then, as if suddenly remembering something important that he had forgotten, he stopped and threw the plate down on the table with a clatter and a bang, which cause the bride’s mother to wince, for it was one of the plates from her best china set. Paddy, however, now began to try all the pockets in his clothes. He searched his waistcoat, trousers, and the pockets of his greatcoat, one after another, but did not seem to find what he had been looking for. At last, after much hunting and shaking, and many grimaces of disappointment, Paddy seized the object of his search, and from some unknown depths, a large tattered leather pocket-book was withdrawn with great care. By this time, however, because he made that much fuss during his search, now everyone’s attention was fixed upon him. With great deliberation, he opened the pocket-book and peered inside, after which, having first ensured by a covert glance around that the guests were watching him, he took out a folded bank-note. He took great care unfolding the bank-note and, after spreading out on the table, he ostentatiously flattened it out smoothly to ensure that all who saw it might read the ‘Ten Pounds’ that was inscribed upon it!

Not surprisingly there was a sudden rumble of astonishment among the guests, with certain signs of dismay being seen among the richer portion. The thick, money-filled wallets, that only a few moments before were being brandished by their owners, were now quickly and stealthily pushed back into pockets again. For several moments there was a pause among the crowd that was followed by a great amount of whispering as the farmers began to consult one another. While this continued there were many anxious and meaningful looks directed to these farmers by their wives, along with various nudges, and severe digs into their ribs. In such circumstances as these, there was always great rivalry in the giving of offerings. Mister Hanratty, who drove his family to Mass every Sunday in his own jaunting car, would certainly not want to be seen giving less than Mister Wilson, who was also a charitable sort of man and earned plenty of money from his butter in the city market. Now, there was the threat of being outdone by the likes of Paddy Ryan! To contribute five pounds to the priest’s collection, when the likes of Ryan was seen by all to give ten pounds, could not even be considered! So, the result, after Paddy had put his note on the plate with a complacent flourish and had started to go around everyone with the collection plate, was the largest collection that Father Murphy had ever seen, and he was overjoyed as he began to stuff his pockets with notes.
But, as the priest was leaving the Malone home, Paddy came up to him and took hold of the bridle of the priest’s horse. “That was a quare good turn that I have done your Reverence this night, didn’t I? Such a collection of notes and piles of silver and coppers I have never laid eyes on before! Sure, I thought the plate would break in two halves with the weight of it. And now” — he took a quick look around to ensure there was no one listening to them and began to whisper, “you can slip my ten-pound note back to me.’
“Your ten-pound note, Paddy? What do you mean by asking for it back? Is it that you want me to give you back part of my dues?”
‘Ah now! Father Murphy, surely you are not so innocent as to think that note was mine? Sure, where would a poor man like me come upon such an amount of money like that? Ten pounds, Father! Didn’t I borrow it, from yourself Father, for the scam? And what a mighty good and profitable scam it was. Didn’t I tell you that the sight of me putting it on the plate would draw every coin out of all their pockets? By the good Lord, it did!’ This was, of course, a fact that the priest could not deny and, along with some interest, he refunded Paddy’s clever decoy.

 

The Hag with the Bag

A Traditional Irish Tale

In our town, many years ago, there lived a widow woman and her three daughters. When her husband had passed away, the woman was certain that they would not want for anything, because he had left them a long leather bag that was filled with gold and silver. The husband was not long dead, however, when an old woman came to the house begging. While the mother’s attention was distracted for a moment, the beggar woman stole the long leather bag that contained the gold and silver, and she immediately left for Dublin. Once in the city the beggar woman booked passage on a ship and left the country, and no person knew where she had gone.
From the day that he long leather bag was stolen, the widow woman and her three daughters were forced to live in poverty, It was a hard struggle to live any kind of life without much money, and was made even harder by the responsibility of raising her three daughters. But when they had grown into adulthood, the eldest of the three girls approached her mother and said, “Mother, I’m a young woman now, and I am embarrassed to be living in this house and contributing nothing to our upkeep. Bake me a ring of bread and cut me some cold meat, and I’ll go away from her to seek my own fortune.”
The young girl set out on her adventure and left the country, to finally settle in a strange new land. In her search for a roof over her head and a job of work, she approached house after house. Then, going up to a little house on a tree-lined street, she knocked at the door. It was an old woman who opened the door to her and asked her what business she was about, to which the girl answered that she was seeking work, so she could begin making her fortune.
“Sure, how would you like to stay here with me, for I am in need of a maid?” asked the old woman
“What will I have to do?”
“Not too much,” said the old woman, “You will have to wash me and dress me and sweep the hearth clean. But I warn you that you should never look up the chimney, or it will be the worse for you!”
“That sounds great,” said the young girl and she entered the little house.
The next day, when the old woman arose from her bed, the young girl washed her and dressed her and, and when the old woman left the house, she swept the hearth clean. But, when this was done, she thought it would do no harm to have one quick look up the chimney. As she looked up the chimney her eyes were immediately transfixed by the sight of her mother’s long leather bag that had been filled with gold and silver. She immediately pulled the bag down from the chimney and getting it on her back she started out for home just as fast as she could run.
The girl had not gotten far on her road home when she met a horse grazing in a field. The horse saw the young lady hurrying his way and called out to her, “Rub me! Ah, give me a wee rub! I haven’t been rubbed in seven years or more .” But she was in a hurry and had no time for rubbing down horses, so she took a stick and struck the horse with it, driving him out of her way.
As she hurried onward, she soon met a sheep, who called out to her, “Oh, sweet girl, shear me! Please shear me! For I haven’t had my fleece shorn these seven years.” But just as she had done with the horse, she struck the sheep with her stick and sent it scurrying out of her way as she hurried on.
She had not gone much further, however, when she came across a tethered goat, who called out to her, “O, change my tether! Please change my tether! for it has not been changed in seven years and has become painful to me.” Ignoring him, the girl lifted a stone and flung it at the goat as she pressed on with her journey.
Next, she came to a lime-kiln, which begged her, “Clean me! Please clean me! for I haven’t been cleaned these past seven years.” But she only scowled at the kiln angrily and went on her way.
After another short distance, she met a cow, who pleaded with her, “Milk me! Milk me! for I haven’t been milked these past seven years.” She struck out at the cow and chased it out of her way and went on.
Then she next came to a mill, which asked her, “O, turn me! Turn me! for I haven’t been turned these seven years.” But she ignored all that the mill said and went into the building. It was growing dark and she lay down among some dry straw behind the mill door. Placing the leather bag under her head, the girl settled down for the night and closed her eyes to sleep.
Meanwhile, when the old woman returned home and found that the girl had gone, she immediately ran to the chimney to discover that the girl had carried off the long, leather bag. She immediately flew into a rage and immediately began to run after the girl just as fast as she could. But she had not gone far when she came across the horse and asked, “Horse, horse of mine, did you see my maid of mine, carrying my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver that I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
“Aye,” replied the horse, “the wicked child passed by here not so long ago.”
The old woman continued her pursuit and soon came upon the sheep, “O, sheep! sheep of mine, did you see my maid pass by here, carrying my long leather bag that contains all the gold and silver that I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
“Aye, I did,” said the sheep, “and it’s not long since she went past here.”
Onward the old lady ran, and it was only a short distance until she met the goat, and asked, “Goat, goat of mine, did you see my maid pass by with my long, leather bag, containing all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
“Aye, I did,” replied the goat, “and it’s not that long since she went past here.”
The old woman ran on and soon came upon the lime-kiln. She asked, “Lime-kiln, lime-kiln of mine, did you see my maid carrying my long leather bag, containing all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
“Aye,” the lime-kiln said, “it is only a short time since she went past me with a scowl on her face.”
Going onward it wasn’t long before she met the cow, and asked, “O, Cow, cow of mine, have you seen my maid carrying my long leather bag, containing all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
“Aye,” said the cow, “it is not long since she passed here.”
The old woman ran on and soon came to the mill, and she asked, “Mill, mill of mine, did you see my maid carrying my long leather bag, containing all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
Quietly, the mill told the old woman, “Yes, she is sleeping behind the door.” Without another word the old hag shipped into the mill and struck her with a white rod, turning her into solid stone. She then grabbed the bag of gold and silver, put it on her back, and went back to her home.
A year and a day had now passed since the eldest daughter of the family had left home and had not returned. The second daughter now approached her mother, and said, “My sister must be doing very well for herself and making her fortune. It is shameful for me to be sitting here, at home, doing nothing to help you or to help myself. So, bake me a ring of soda bread and cut me some cold meat, and I will go away to seek my fortune.”
The mother did what she was bid and asked her daughter would she have half the bread with her blessing or the whole ring of bread without. The daughter chose to take the whole ring of bread without, and she set off on her journey with all her bags. Just before she left, she told her mother, “If I am not back here in a year and a day, you may be sure that I am doing well and making my fortune.” Then the girl closed the door behind her and set off on her journey of adventure.
She travelled by road and sea until she came to a strange land. Unknown to her she had landed in the same place as her elder sister, and, like her, she went up to a little house that stood in a tree-lined street and knocked on the door. It was an old woman who opened the door and asked what her business was, to which the girl answered that she was seeking her fortune. “How would you like to stay here with me, for I need a maid?” the old woman asked.
“What will I have to do?” the girl asked.
“You’ll have to wash me and dress me and sweep the hearth clean. But, never look up the chimney, or else it will be bad for you,” the old woman warned.
“That sounds perfect,” the girl replied with a smile.
The next day, when the old woman got up out of her bed, the girl washed and dressed her. Then, when the old woman went out the girl swept the hearth and was tempted to have a quick look up the chimney. Believing she was doing no harm, the girl glanced up and saw her mother’s long leather bag of gold and silver. She grabbed it immediately and took it down. Ensuring that she placed the bag securely on her back she began to run for home as fast as she could.
The girl had not gotten far on her road home when she met a horse grazing in a field. The horse saw the young lady hurrying his way and called out to her, “Rub me! Ah, give me a wee rub! I haven’t been rubbed in seven years or more .” But she was in a hurry and had no time for rubbing down horses, so she took a stick and struck the horse with it, driving him out of her way.
As she hurried onward, she soon met a sheep, who called out to her, “Oh, sweet girl, shear me! Please shear me! For I haven’t had my fleece shorn these seven years.” But just as she had done with the horse, she struck the sheep with her stick and sent it scurrying out of her way as she hurried on.
She had not gone much further, however, when she came across a tethered goat, who called out to her, “O, change my tether! Please change my tether! for it has not been changed in seven years and has become painful to me.” Ignoring him, the girl lifted a stone and flung it at the goat as she pressed on with her journey.
Next, she came to a lime-kiln, which begged her, “Clean me! Please clean me! for I haven’t been cleaned these past seven years.” But she only scowled at the kiln angrily and went on her way.
After another short distance, she met a cow, who pleaded with her, “Milk me! Milk me! for I haven’t been milked these past seven years.” She struck out at the cow and chased it out of her way and went on.
Then she next came to a mill, which asked her, “O, turn me! Turn me! for I haven’t been turned these seven years.” But she ignored all that the mill said and went into the building. It was growing dark and she lay down among some dry straw behind the mill door. Placing the leather bag under her head, the girl settled down for the night and closed her eyes to sleep.
Meanwhile, when the old woman returned home and found that the girl had gone, she immediately ran to the chimney to discover that the girl had carried off the long, leather bag. She immediately flew into a rage and immediately began to run after the girl just as fast as she could. But she had not gone far when she came across the horse and asked, “Horse, horse of mine, did you see my maid of mine, carrying my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver that I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
“Aye,” replied the horse, “the wicked child passed by here not so long ago.”
The old woman continued her pursuit and soon came upon the sheep, “O, sheep! sheep of mine, did you see my maid pass by here, carrying my long leather bag that contains all the gold and silver that I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
“Aye, I did,” said the sheep, “and it’s not long since she went past here.”
Onward the old lady ran, and it was only a short distance until she met the goat, and asked, “Goat, goat of mine, did you see my maid pass by with my long, leather bag, containing all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
“Aye, I did,” replied the goat, “and it’s not that long since she went past here.”
The old woman ran on, and soon came upon the lime-kiln. She asked, “Lime-kiln, lime-kiln of mine, did you see my maid carrying my long leather bag, containing all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
“Aye,” the lime-kiln said, “it is only a short time since she went past me with a scowl on her face.”
Going onward it wasn’t long before she met the cow, and asked, “O, Cow, cow of mine, have you seen my maid carrying my long leather bag, containing all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
“Aye,” said the cow, “it is not long since she passed here.”
The old woman ran on and soon came to the mill, and she asked, “Mill, mill of mine, did you see my maid carrying my long leather bag, containing all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
Quietly, the mill told the old woman, “Yes, she is sleeping behind the door.” Without another word the old hag shipped into the mill and struck her with a white rod, turning her into solid stone. She then grabbed the bag of gold and silver, put it on her back, and went back to her home.
When the second daughter had been gone a year and a day and she hadn’t come back, the youngest daughter said: “Mammy, my two sisters must be doing very well indeed, and making great fortunes when they are not coming back home. But I am ashamed to be just sitting here doing nothing, either to help you, mammy, or myself. Will you bake me some bread and cut me some cold meats, and I will set out and make my fortune.”
The mother baked the bread fresh and asked her if she would have half of the bread or the whole bread without her blessing. The youngest daughter smiled sweetly and said, “I will take half of the bread with your blessing, mammy.”
With her mother’s blessing, the girl travelled far and wide until she came to the same strange country where her sisters had landed. She too found the same little house they had and met the old woman living there. When the old woman asked her what she was looking for, the young girl told her that she was seeking her fortune. The old woman then asked her, “How would you like to stay here with me, for I need a maid?”
“What will I have to do?” asked the girl.
“You’ll have to wash me and dress me and sweep the hearth clean, and on the peril of your life never look up the chimney,” the old women told her.
“That all sounds fine,” said the girl.
The next day when the old woman got up from her bed, the young girl washed her and dressed her, and when the old woman went out she swept the hearth, and she thought it would be no harm to have one wee look up the chimney. There she saw her mother’s long leather bag of gold and silver, which she immediately took it down and, getting it on her back, she began to hurry home as quick as her feet would carry her.
As she ran, she met a horse, who called to her, “Rub me! Rub me! for I haven’t been rubbed these seven years.”
“You poor horse,” replied the young girl, “Sure, I’ll rub you.” And she put down her bag and gave the horse a fine rub. After doing this, the girl hurried on and it wasn’t long before she met the sheep
“Oh, shear me, shear me! for I haven’t been shorn these seven years,” cried the sheep.
“You poor sheep,” she said, “I’ll do that for you.” And she put down her bag and proceeded to shear the sheep. Then, when she had finished, she went until she met the tethered goat.
“O, change my tether! Change my tether! for it hasn’t been changed these seven years,” the goat called out to her.
“O, poor goat, poor goat,” she said, “I can do that for you.” She laid down her bag and changed the goat’s tether before on to meet the lime-kiln.
“O, clean me! clean me! for I haven’t been cleaned these seven years,” begged the lime-kiln.
“O, you poor lime-kiln,” she said, “I will clean you.” And laying down her bag she set about cleaning the lime-kiln. When this was done the girl moved on again until she came across the cow.
The cow asked her, “O, milk me! Milk me! for I haven’t been milked these seven years.”
“You poor cow,” sympathised the young girl. “I can milk you now,” and she laid down her bag, milked the cow, and moved on again quickly.
At last, she had reached the mill, which called to her, “Turn me! turn me! for I haven’t been turned these seven years.”
“Poor mill, you poor mill, I’ll surely do that for you,” said the young girl and she turned the mill. But, as night was coming down quickly, she went into the mill-house, lay down behind the door and fell asleep.
Now, when the old woman came back to her home, she found the girl had gone. She ran to the chimney to see if she had carried off the bag. She became very angry and ran after her as quickly as she could. Very soon she came to the horse and asked, “O, horse! horse of mine! did you see this maid of mine, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
In reply, the horse told her, “Do you think I have nothing better to do than watch your maids for you? Go and look somewhere else.”
Then the old woman came upon the sheep and asked, “Sheep, sheep of mine, have you seen this maid of mine, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
The sheep replied, “Do you think I have nothing to do all day except watch your maids for you? I think you should go somewhere else and look for information.”
Angrily she moved further on and came to the tethered goat and asked, “O, goat, goat of mine, have you seen this maid of mine, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
“Do you think I have nothing better to do with my time than watch over your maids for you? Go somewhere else and ask your questions,” the goat told her.
The old woman went on until she came to the lime-kiln. “O, lime-kiln, lime-kiln of mine, did you see this maid of mine, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a girl, working as a maid?”
“What is it with you?” replied the lime-kiln. “Do you think that I have nothing better to do with my days than stand watch over your maids? You need to go somewhere else for your answers”
Her anger had grown greatly by the time she met the cow. “Cow! Cow of mine! have you seen this maid of mine, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a young girl, working as a maid?”
The cow told her, “What makes you think that I have nothing better to do with my time than watch out for your maids? I suggest you go somewhere to get your answers.”
Finally, the old woman reached the mill and weakly asked, “O, mill! mill of mine! Please tell me, have you seen this maid of mine, with my long leather bag, and all the gold and silver I have earned since I was a young girl, working as a maid?”
The mill said, “Sssh! Come nearer to me and whisper.” The old woman went closer to the mill, and the mill dragged her under the wheels and ground her up. The old woman had also dropped her white rod out of her hand, and the mill told the young girl to take it and strike the two stones behind the mill door. The girl did what she was told, and her two sisters stood up. She lifted the long leather bag on her back, and all three of them travelled all the long way home. The mother had been heart-broken since they had left home, but her tears now disappeared quickly as she saw her three daughters return to her healthy, rich and happy.

Jimmy Joe’s Matrimonials

You would never have described Jimmy Joe Cullen as being a young man, even if you were the most kindly of his neighbours. The same man, however, would not be at all pleased to hear any person describe him as being an old man. After all, Jimmy Joe was the youngest of three sons born to the Cullen family but, unlike his brothers, he had lived at home for all his fifty years. Quite recently, however, with the passing of his father, Jimmy Joe had inherited the home place and he made plans to improve his new-found status among the local population.
Jimmy Joe was already a well-known figure in the district, but many of those who knew him well were convinced that the man was not exactly the ‘sharpest knife in the box’. But, despite what others thought about him, Jimmy Joe had done well for himself in the world. Although he had no education qualifications, he had worked his way up the ladder from ordinary labourer to the position of Clerk of Works for the Housing Executive of Northern Ireland. But this post appeared to be the pinnacle of his career advancement since he had remained in this same post for over eight years. Despite his best efforts, and his constant attention to detail, it appeared to Jimmy Joe that he had now risen through the ranks and attained the highest level that he was ever going to achieve. He had begun to wonder if this was due to the low quality of education that he had or was it something else that was preventing him from taking the next step into higher levels of management.
Jimmy Joe’s father was one of the ‘old school’ fathers that filled Ireland’s homes and believed in the adage that says, ‘by sparing the rod you would spoil the child’. When his father was alive Jimmy Joe didn’t much like the man, but he respected him as his father and, now that he was gone, Jimmy Joe missed him. Nevertheless, with the old man’s passing, Jimmy Joe suddenly gained a new sense of freedom and was eager to experience that freedom by marrying the woman, who was the only love of his life, Nellie Maguire.
Just like Jimmy Joe, Nellie Maguire was no ‘Spring Chicken, and she wouldn’t tear in the plucking’. But, even though she was a lady of mature years, there were quite a few men who would who would agree that she had retained much of the beauty for which she was famed in her younger days. It was her beauty that had first attracted Jimmy Joe to her almost thirty years previously. There were many of his neighbours, however, who wondered what it was that she had seen in him. Although it was almost thirty years previously, Jimmy Joe could still clearly recall that night when he had finally plucked up the courage to ask Nellie for a dance at the weekly Parish Ceilidh. That night the local parish hall was filled with people from within and from outside the parish, and many were visibly shocked to see the very popular Nellie Maguire agreed, not only to dance with Jimmy Joe Cullen, but to allow him to escort her home when the Ceilidh had ended.
In her youth, Nellie Maguire, was a natural blond with her long, golden hair flowing over her shapely shoulders like corn-silk. Her skin was as smooth and unblemished as the finest porcelain, and her hazel coloured eyes were warm and inviting, like those of a well-known movie actress of the day. In fact, Nellie was so beautiful that there was not a man in the entire Parish who had not lost his heart to her at some time or other. At the same time, there was not there was not a woman in the district who did not envy Nellie’s beauty, as well as her popularity among the menfolk. Nellie, however, was a strong-willed woman who knew her own mind, and knew exactly what kind of man she wanted in her life. It seemed to all the neighbours that, so far, Jimmy Joe Cullen was the only man she wanted, from among the many men available to her.
For his part, Jimmy Joe could never have been described as an ugly, or repulsive man, but neither was there anything especially handsome about him. He was tall, with black hair and a face tanned by the sun as he worked outside every day on the farm, and the building sites. As was his habit, most days of his life, Jimmy Joe would wear his work clothes to go out and about his business. In fact, it was only when he went to Mass or the Ceilidh that he would change into his best suit, shirt and tie, and brogue shoes. But, even when the man dressed well and combed his hair tidily, keeping it in shape with a dab of ‘Brylcreem’ there was nothing that even suggested he could be a heart-throb to any girl. Even those people who knew both Nellie and Jimmy very well at this time were convinced that their relationship would not last very long. In fact, some of Nellie’s closest friends were of the considered her to be too fickle a person to tie herself down to one man. “Sure, that one will never go mad, that one. She’s never in the same mind long enough”, appeared to be the most popular comment among her friends at the time. They could not, however, have been more wrong in their judgement of her. To date the relationship between Nellie and Jimmy Joe had already lasted almost thirty years, and now there was talk of them getting married.
When he was a young man, Jimmy Joe was a shy and quiet type of boy, who felt awkward in the presence of women and didn’t quite know what he should say in their company. It was a trait that Nellie admired very much, which encouraged Jimmy Joe to accomplish greater things. They had begun dating and, after they had been dating each other for eighteen months, Jimmy Joe gathered every ounce of courage he had buried in his being and decided that now was the right time to propose. Dressed in his very best clothes he went walking with Nellie, and then suddenly he knelt on one knee in front of her. Taking her hand in his he nervously asked her to marry him and anxiously awaited her answer. While Nellie was genuinely overjoyed by Jimmy Joe’s proposal, she made it clear to him that she could not give him an immediate answer, because there were several items that she needed to have clarified before she could agree to marry him. Her main concern at the time was where they would both live after they were married. Jimmy Joe could not understand her concern because he had envisioned them living as a couple in the home place, with his father. But, it was Jimmy Joe’s father who was the stumbling block in Nellie’s mind. To his surprise and embarrassment, she emphatically told him “No!” to the proposal of marriage.
It was with a great sense of relief that Jimmy Joe was told that Nellie’s response was not a total rejection of his proposal. She told him that she would happily marry him, but she could not be a wife to him as well as a housekeeper for his father. She insisted that she would only move into the home place as Jimmy Joe’s wife when his father, Old ‘Joe Boy’ Cullen, had passed away.
Now, Old ‘Joe Boy’ was a very well-known character in the Parish and there were very few of his neighbours who had a good word to say about him. He was known for having a very bad attitude toward other people and treated too many of his neighbours harshly when it came to business. Noted for his miserliness and tardiness in paying what he owed others, ‘Joe Boy’ had been secretly accused by some of cruelly working his wife to an early grave. It was said that ‘Joe Boy’ had young when she died so suddenly and only a couple of years before Nellie and Jimmy Joe had met and fallen in love. Jimmy Joe, however, was sure that his mother would have approved of his choice.
Since his wife’s death, it seemed that ‘Joe Boy’s’ bad manners and habits had worsened, including his foul, abusive language and his rude behaviour to others. It is not at all surprising, therefore, that Nellie, when she heard that they would be moving into that same house after they were married, told Jimmy Joe, “If you think that I would live in the same house as that ill-mannered old blackguard, lifting and laying for him every day, and listening to his foul mouth, then you have another thought coming!” It was a blunt rebuttal, but Nellie didn’t stop there, and she added, “He is an ignorant, crude, drunkard of a man and I would not be caught dead in the same house as that old villain.”
When Nellie had expressed these problems to Jimmy Joe almost thirty-years previously he was neither shocked or annoyed by her bluntness. He simply placed the engagement ring on her finger and hoped in his heart that it might not be long until the day for them to be married. At first, Jimmy Joe thought that he might be able to change Nellie’s mind. He quickly discovered, however, that this woman was not about to alter her decision and that he would have to bide his time until ‘Joe Boy’ He swore to himself that when the old man was dead the coffin bearers could carry him out the back door, while carried Nellie over the threshold of the front door. There might not, after all, be too long until that day came. Jimmy Joe was convinced that the amount of alcohol his father consumed would most certainly kill the man sooner, rather than later. Not for one minute did either Jimmy Joe or Nellie consider that it would take so long to see ‘Joe Boy’ to grow frail and die. They were long and frustrating years for the couple. “That old ‘get’ made sure he got his day in,” said Nellie, “You would nearly think that ‘old goat’ had purposefully lived all those years to ensure that I didn’t get into the house and change it. By God, but that man was one big pain in the arse and it must be said that hell will never be full until he is in it.”
“In the name of God, Nellie,” her friends warned her, “Be careful what you say, for that old bastard might come back and haunt you.”
“Don’t you worry about him!” laughed Nellie, “I’ve got Bobby Lennon, the undertaker, to nail the lid down with six-inch nails and to wrap the coffin with two strong iron bands.”
Old ‘Joe Boy’s’ funeral took place on a cold Saturday morning with a mizzle of rain falling on everyone. There was little fanfare and only a few people that accompanied his remains from the house to the church for the funeral Mass. Including the priest, Jimmy Joe, and Nellie there were only twenty-two people attending the Mass, and most of them were only there to make sure that the miserable old skinflint was truly gone. It could rightly be said that the entire Parish and district was in a state of euphoria to see the back of the curmudgeonly old devil. Then, the next day, at 10:30 Mass the same priest proudly announced that Jimmy Joe and Nellie would be married at the earliest possible moment.
Over the following three weeks the Church was booked, and the invitations sent out to the select few. At long last Jimmy Joe and Nellie were getting married after almost thirty years of courting and the event became the main talking point of the entire parish.
“The old man’s not yet cold in his grave,” said Sarah Gill, the village gossip. “Its all been a bit rushed don’t you think? I wonder is there any reason for the hurry? You know what I mean?”
Mary Jane looked at Sarah with complete amazement. “Hurried?” she asked with a laugh, “I think Nellie Maguire is just a little bit old to be needing a shotgun wedding!”
“Well, I still think that it is all a bit quick!”
“For Christ’s sake, Sarah! It has been nearly thirty-years in the making! That’s not exactly the speed of light, now! Is it?”

Dining Belle Fey

Guest item written by Sean Carney – March 2018

This is the first guest item I have included in my blog and I present to my readers for its interest value, and in the hope it will encourage others to send in their stories.

Browsing through Donegal Town’s official website recently, I came across some snippets of information from long ago regarding the anecdotes of a local character by the name of Belle Fey. A Faye, being a fairy, or Siog [sheog] a name given to her by her Dromore neighbours as a result of her strange ways. Belle Melly being her real name according to the 1940/41Donegal town electors list, for Dromore.

Poor Belle, I’m sure she’d turn in her grave if she were able to read the comments. Who’s to say she was just an old eccentric, had the author taken leave of his imagination, really! Doesn’t anyone believe in fairies or the little people anymore.? In my opinion Belle’s name ought to be up there in lights amongst Donegal’s countless legendary characters. Perhaps a song or a poem ought to have been composed in her honour. As far as I’m concerned, she was the real thing, a real living Siog. Belle, could, tell fortunes too, and see into the future just like her wee fairy friends who would come and sit at the foot of her bed during the night: she often said, the male Sioga would also visit her bedroom, a fact which greatly annoyed her – herself being a modest female and all.

I ought to know better than most folk about Belle’s, mystic talents because as an Eight-year old I had the doubtful privilege of meeting this wrinkled, steely-grey-haired, plaid-shawled old creature, and, being on the receiving end of a ‘Belle spell’, so to speak.

When we were youngsters my father and mother often brought our family on the gruelling twenty-four-hour journey to Donegal during our summer holidays. My dad emigrated to Yorkshire in the UK and was a coalminer in Yorkshire’s forbidding and dangerous 3,000 ft deep coalmines.

We usually stayed for the two weeks holiday with my dad’s brother and sister–the postman John, and Mae Carney; their house was situated in Dromore, up the lane at the top of the hill off the Donegal road. Their slate roofed cottage stood on the brow of the winding hill with its magnificent panoramic views over Donegal Bay, and the Blue Stack mountains–when it wasn’t raining that is! And was just a stone’s throw across the lane from Belle Fey’s faded whitewashed, thatched cottage. Belle must have had her eye on me, this wee buachailin ban, [ fair haired boy] as I was often up and down the lane with my sister Patricia, with Mae’s old enamel bucket to fetch water from the well, which bubbled up from a wee crystal–clear spring at the side of the lush green overgrown lane. Aunt Mae swore the water was “the best ever for making tae.”

As I recall, it was the day my father Hugh, was visiting his youngest sister Maggie Quinn at her pub, ‘Quinns Bar’, (Lazy Bush) at the top of Mountcharles, where he often went to catch up on the local gossip and discuss the price of cattle and imbibe in a few pints with his old school cronies. That particular occasion was a signal for Belle, to make her move on me, as she invited herself into John and Mae’s, house. Shortly a whispered discussion took place with my mother and aunt Mae, who herself was fond of reading the tea-leaves and such-like, as well as blowing her cigarette smoke up the turf blackened chimney of their huge open fire-place, which puzzled this eight-year old at the time. Many years later it transpired that John hated Mae smoking!

To continue the story; I was ushered into aunt Mae’s, dimly lit front parlour, which contained a dusty dark wood dining table and chairs, with the odd religious picture randomly placed on the whitewashed walls.

Situated on the inside gable of the house was an old fashioned black Victorian cast-iron fireplace, into which Belle, proceeded to set light to a crumpled newspaper in the empty grate. As the paper blazed away brightly, shooting orange blue flames up the chimney, Belle began mumbling as she stooped over the grate, while I stood mystified at the side of her, I didn’t have the faintest idea what she was saying, but I swear it wasn’t English. After a while Belle rose from the hearth in her usual bent posture, declaring authoritatively to my mother and Mae, in her rich Donegal accent. “This wee caddy will remain fair haired for the rest of his life”.

Sixty-five years on, and a bit more, and guess what? Short of having a bit of the thatch missing at the back, I still have a modest head of fair hair, despite a lifetime of trying to alter its colour by dousing it with strong tea, before I hit the town with the lads on a Friday night.

My mother and father, brothers and sisters, were all blessed with fine heads of typically Irish, dense, wavy auburn hair. Ultimately with the passing of time and sadly for them their hair turned grey and then white. Uncle John’s, hair may have been a bit sandy looking which he got from Ding, and Grandma Sweeney’s, side of the family, but with no stretch of the imagination was he blonde. So where in the blazes, excuse the pun, did mine come from? Belle Fey, “just an eccentric old woman? My foot!

Submitted by Fergus452@btinternet.com September 2018

Brought to you by http://www.irelandsloreandtales.com

A PIPER’S TALE

I can recall a wee man who lived in the village of Derrytrask for quite a few years, but almost all his neighbours thought he was a bit of an ‘eejit’ (idiot). If asked, “what made them look upon the wee man as an eejit?”, they would look at the questioner in such a way as if he was not right in the head. Their proof that the wee man was ‘not the full shilling’ was the way that he was so demonstratively fond of music but had never been able to learn to play more than one tune on his ‘Uileann-pipes’. The sole tune that he did play was known as the “Munster Cloak”, which was his party piece in the various bars, and at the local festivities. People would make fun of him as he played his one tune over and over again, but he did earn a few shillings from his ‘recitals’. The money he received, however, helped both the wee man and his widowed mother to pay the rent on their small holding, and occasionally buy some luxuries for themselves, like snuff and a bottle or two of stout.

One warm Spring night the Piper was walking home from a local house, where there had been a bit of a dance. The ‘House Ceilidh’ had been a lively one and like several other attendees he found himself somewhat the worse for wear, because of the whisky and poteen he had taken. As he staggered along the narrow cart track of a road he managed to arrive safely at the little bridge spanning the small stream that flowed close by his mother’s cottage. He decided to stop there for a moment and sit down upon a large flat rock, then he breathed into his pipes’ bag and squeezing it he began to play the one tune that he knew so well, the “Munster Cloak.” As the first musical notes floated into the air he was suddenly grabbed from behind and flung on his back in the middle of the track. In the darkness of the night a ‘Pooka’ had come upon him by surprise. For those readers who may not know what a ‘Pooka’ is, the easiest explanation is that it is a spirit creature which takes on many forms and shapes. This spirit creature, however, possessed long horns and as the Piper regained his senses he took a good, strong grip of them. But, as he grabbed at the strange creature’s horns he cried out with a loud voice, “Damn you to hell, you evil creature. Just allow me to go on my way home for I have a shining silver sixpence in my pocket that is for my mother, and she wants some snuff brought to her!”

PookaUsing the horns, the ‘Pooka’ now threw the Piper onto his own back and spoke menacingly to him, “Pay no attention to your mother, or even to what she wants, but concentrate your mind on keeping your hold on those horns. Remember that if you should fall from my back there is little doubt that you will surely break your neck and smash those pipes you are carrying.” Then, in a softer tone of voice, the ‘Pooka’ asked him, “You could play for me the ‘The Blackbird, for it is my favourite tune?‘”

“Sure, wouldn’t I be the greatest of all pipers if I could play ‘The Blackbird’, when I don’t know it,” replied the Piper with a snigger.

“Don’t you be concerning yourself about whether you know the tune, or you don’t know it!” the ‘Pooka’ snapped at him. “Just you begin playing those pipes of yours and I’ll make sure you play the right tune.”

Although he was deeply frightened, the Piper blew hard into his pipe bag and he began to play such fine music that he began to wonder how this could happen. “By the holy, but you’re a fine teacher,” said the Piper, “and now tell me where you are taking me in such a hurry?”

“There is to be a great feast being held tonight in the house of the Banshee, which stands at the top of Croagh Patrick,” said the Pooka. “I am bringing you to the feast, where you will play your music and be well rewarded for your trouble.”

“Sure, isn’t that a great bit of news, for you’ll save me a journey,” replied the Piper, “Father Tom has told me that I should make the pilgrimage to Croagh Patrick as a penance, because I was the one who stole the big white goose from the Martins’ farmhouse yard.”

But, the Pooka paid no attention to him, put down his head and rushed the piper across hills, the bogs and rough places, until he finally brought him to the top of Croagh Patrick. Then, as they came to a halt, the Pooka struck three blows on the ground with his foot, and a great door opened before them. Without a moment’s hesitation they both passed through the door and found themselves in a large, finely adorned room. There, in the middle of the room, the Piper saw a large golden table, around which sat hundreds of old women, all of whom were staring toward him. One of the old women stood up from her seat and greeted him, “A hundred thousand welcomes to you, Pooka of November. Who is this mortal being that you have brought with you?”

“This mortal is the best Piper in all of Ireland,” said the Pooka, proudly.

One of the old women now struck a blow on the ground and a door opened in the side wall of the fine room. Then much to the Piper’s surprise, he noticed the big white goose, which he had stolen from Martins’ farmyard coming out of the door. “Now this is a miracle,” said the Piper, “for myself and my mother ate every bit of that goose, except for one wing. Sure, it was that one wing that I gave to old ‘Red Mary’, and it was her that told the priest I had stolen the goose.”

The goose now marched over to clean the table before carrying it away, and the Pooka now turned to the piper and urged him, “Play your music for these ladies to enjoy.”

The Piper filled the bag with air and he began to play. He played so well that all the old women took to the floor and began to dance, and they danced so lively until they could dance no more. It was then that the Pooka came forward and demanded that they pay the Piper for his music. Without any complaint each of the old women took a gold piece from their pockets and gave it to him. “By the staff of Saint Patrick,” says the Piper, “sure I’m as rich as the son of any great lord.”

“Now come with me,” asked the Pooka, “and I will bring you back to your home.”

Together they went out of the room and, just as the Piper was about to mount the back of the Pooka, the goose waddled over to him and presented him with a new set of pipes. With the same speed as before the Pooka set off and it did not take him long until he brought the Piper back to Derrytrask. They came at last to the little bridge once again and the Piper dismounted the Pooka, who quietly told him that he should go home. But, before the Piper left, the Pooka told him, “You now have two things that you have never had before. You now have sense and music.”

Hurrying home the Piper was feeling on top of the world, and he knocked loudly at his mother’s door. He called out to her, “Mother, let me in. Your son is as rich now as any lord, and I have become the very best Piper in the whole of Ireland.”

“Ah, you’re drunk again,” replied his mother in disgust.

“No, Mother, indeed I’m not,” insisted the Piper, “Not a single drop of liquor has passed my lips.”

His mother opened the door to him, and he gave her the gold pieces he had received from the old women. “Wait, now,” says he, “until you hear the wonderful music that I can play now.” He quickly buckled on the pipes and began to play them, but instead of sweet music of before there now came a sound as if all the geese and ganders in Ireland were screeching together. The terrible noise that he made wakened all the neighbours, and they all began to make fun of him. Their mocking continued for a while until the Piper put on his old pipes and, from that moment, he played the most melodious music for them. Now that they had heard his music the Piper told them all the great adventure that he had gone through that night and they listened to his story in disbelief.

The next morning, when the Piper’s mother went to look at the gold pieces her son had given her, there was nothing there but the leaves of a plant. Shocked by this news, the Piper went to see the priest and began to relate to him the adventure he had undertaken. But, the priest would not believe a word that he told him, and the Piper decided to give proof by playing the pipes for him. As he did so the screeching of the ganders and the geese began once again. “Get out of my sight, you thief,” the angry priest roared at him. But the Piper would not move an inch until he put the old pipes on him to demonstrate to the priest that his story was indeed true. He buckled on his old pipes, and he began to play the most wonderful and melodious music. From that day until the day of his death the piper’s fame grew and it is still said that there was never his equal as a Piper in all the western part of Ireland.

Danny Burke

There are many people who have heard about the adventures, but there are only a very few who may have heard of what caused all the perils he faced, which was the error of having slept beneath the walls of the Pooka’s tower. He was a man that I was very friendly with and many were the times that I visited his house at the bottom of ‘Shields’s Hill’, where he told me his story. This tale I now write it down for you …

“Sure, I am often asked to tell my story, so this is not the first time that I relate it. The Squire’s son had finally come home from foreign parts, much to the joy of his parents. In celebration of his return the Squire organised a great meal to which all the people of the district were invited, high-born and low-born, the rich and the poor. And what a feast it was, the best of everything and plenty of it. We ate our fill, and we drank our fill, and we danced the night away. In short, as you have undoubtedly guessed, I became quite inebriated. I was as drunk as a Lord and so, as I was taking the stepping-stones to cross the river at Ballyknock, I slipped, missed my footing, and fell head over heels into the cold water. ‘Ah! Good Jaysus!’ I shouted, ‘I’ll be frozen to death if I don’t drown first!’ But, I began to swim and swim, as fast as I could. I swam for my dear life until I finally I reached shore, which I did not recognise. By some strange means I had swam to the shore of an abandoned island.

“I wandered about that island, not knowing where I was going or what I would meet, until my feet took me, stumbling, into a large bog. The moon was shining as bright as day, and my eyes searched to the east and west, and to the north and south. But, wherever I looked my eyes could only see a vast swathe of bog land. I began to scratch my head in my confusion, and I whistled a sorrowful air as I began losing hope of seeing home again. Suddenly, the sky grew darker and the moon grew black. In my fear I looked and saw something that appeared to be moving swiftly down between the moon and me, and I could not tell what it was. Down it swooped toward me, and it looked at me full-square in the face. By Christ, it was an eagle, and it stared into my face and spoke. Says he to me, ‘Well, Daniel Burke, how do you do?’

‘Very well, I thank you sir,’ says I in return. ‘I hope you’re well also.’ You can be sure that, even as I spoke to him, my mind was busy trying to reason how an eagle could speak to me like a mortal man.

‘What brings you here, Daniel?’ he asked.

‘By God, sir, I wish I knew,’ says I, ‘I only wish that I was safe home again in my own house.’

‘So, Dan, you want to go out of the island?’ says he.

‘Oh, you can be sure of that!’ says I.

‘Daniel?’ says he, ‘You know fine well that it is not the proper thing to do for you to get drunk on a feast day, but you are a decent and, normally, sober man, who attends Mass regular. You are also not one of those who throw stones at me or mine or shouts out at us when we are in the fields. So, my friend, get upon my back and take a tight grip in case you fall off, and I will fly you out of this place.’

‘Would you get away out of that?’ says I, ‘you’re trying to make an eejit out of me, Sir. Who has ever heard of a man riding horseback on an eagle before?’

‘I swear to you, Dan,’ said he, ‘I am being straight with you, so you can either take up my offer or starve in the bog. By the way, don’t take too long to make up your mind for your weight is sinking the stone in the bog.’

“Aye, it was true enough, for I found the stone sinking further and further every minute I was standing on it. ‘I thank you, Sir,’ says I without hesitation, ‘for the offer and I accept it!’  I, therefore, climbed upon the back of the eagle, and clasped my arms tightly around his throat, and up he flew in the air as graceful as you like. At this time, however, I had no inkling of the trick that he was going to play on me. Upward, upward, and upward still he flew until I lost all idea of how high we had risen, dear knows how far he flew. It came to me at this moment that, perhaps, the eagle did not know the right road to my home. ‘Excuse me,’ said I to him in a quiet and civil way. I did not want to upset him, especially when we were so high above the ground and I was so vulnerable. ‘Sir,’ says I, ‘I don’t mean to be disrespectful or discourteous, but if you would just fly down a bit lower you will find that we are just over my wee cottage, and you could drop me off there with my deepest gratitude.’

‘Are you mad, Dan?’ says he, ‘do you think me an eejit to be putting you down there? Take you a wee glance at the next field, and those two men down there with a gun! It would be quare joke on me to be shot by such men, while I helped a drunken blackguard that I took off a sinking stone in a bog.’

Well, kept, flying, flying, upward despite all my pleas to him to fly down. ‘Could you tell me, sir, just where in the world are you going?’ I asked him.

‘Ah, Dan, would you whisht (be quiet) for a minute! Just you mind your own business, and don’t be trying to interfere in the business of other people.’

“Finally, where should we come to, but to the moon itself. You can’t see it now, but there is, or at least there was in my day, a reaping-hook sticking out of the side of the moon, like this –’ (Dan began to draw the shape of the reaping-hook on the ground with the end of his stick).

‘Dan,’ said the eagle, ‘I’m absolutely exhausted after this long flight. My bloody wings are aching! I had no idea that it was so far.’

‘And, who in the name of God asked you to fly so far?” says I. ‘It wasn’t me! I was the one on your back begging, then praying and finally beseeching to stop half-an-hour ago!’

‘Now, there’s no use giving out, Dan,’ says he, ‘I’m too tired to listen, so just you get off now, and sit down there on the moon until I rest myself for a wee while.’

‘What? Sit down on the moon, did you say?’ asked I. ‘You want me to sit upon that wee round thing? Sure, I’d fall off in a minute, and be killed and split, and smashed all to bits! You are some saviour, so you are.’

‘Ah, sure don’t be like that, Dan,’ said the eagle. ‘You can take a tight hold of that reaping hook that’s sticking out of the side of the moon, and that will stop you from falling.’

‘Indeed, by God, I won’t,’ said I.

‘Maybe you won’t,’ he said to me under his breath. ‘But if you don’t, I might just give you a shake, and a slap of my wing, and send you down to the ground again, where every bone in your body will be smashed to smithereens and splashed all over the place.’

‘Well, that’s a lovely thing to say,’ I thought to myself, ‘how in the name of Jaysus did I ever get mixed up with the likes of him,’ and so I called him the worst word I could think of, in Irish of course in case he would understand what I had said. I slipped off his back, nervously taking hold of the reaping-hook, and I sat down upon the moon. That was a mighty cold seat, I can tell you that.

“When he was sure that I was secure the eagle turned to face me and said, ‘Good morning to you, Daniel Burke,’ said he. ‘I think I’ve certainly got you now. You are the blackguard that robbed my nest last year, and your reward is that you are very welcome to pass the time dangling your heels from the moon. Thief!’

‘Is that it, and now this is the way I am to be, you brute?’ I shouted at him in anger. ‘You are nothing but an ugly and unnatural beast that would leave me in such a predicament.’ But, all my anger and shouting made not one bit of difference. He turned away from me laughing loudly, spread out his great wings, and flew away like he had been shot out of a gun.

‘Stop!’ I bawled after him, but I might as well have been shouting in the wind for all the attention he took. Away he flew, and I never saw him again from that day to this, may he fly into a cliff the blackguard. As for me, I can tell you I was both heartbroken and very afraid. All that I could do was angrily call out all sorts of insults to the one who had abandoned me. Then, to my complete surprise a door opened, with a great creaking noise, right in the middle of the moon. Such was the noise that you would have thought the door had not had its hinges oiled or greased in an age. But, who do you think walked out of the door? None other than the man in the moon, himself. I immediately recognised him by the beard that he wore.

‘Good day to you, Daniel Burke,’ says he, ‘and how are you keeping?’

‘I’m doing very well, thank you,’ I told him. ‘I hope you are doing well, yourself.’

‘Whatever has brought you here, Dan?’ he asked.

So, I began to tell him the whole sad and dreary tale. ‘Dan,’ said the man in the moon as he took a pinch of snuff, ‘You can’t stay here! when I was done, ‘you must not stay here.’

‘Is that right?” I replied rather sarcastically. ‘Allow me to inform you that I am here very much against my will, and I just want to go home. My only problem is that I don’t know how to get back. 

‘Well, Dan, that is your business,’ said he. ‘Mine is to inform you that you cannot not stay, so be off now as quickly as you can.’

‘Sure, I’m doing no harm,’ I insisted, ‘I am only holding on tightly to the reaping-hook, in case I fall off.’

‘That’s just what you must not do, Dan,’ says he.

‘Just a minute,’ says I, ‘may I ask you how many there are in your family, since it must be the size of the family that persuades you not to give a poor traveller a lodging. I’m sure that it is not very often that you’re troubled with strangers calling to see you, for it’s a long way to travel.’

‘As a matter of fact, I’m by myself, Dan,’ says he, ‘but you would be better letting go of the reaping hook.’

‘I know what you are saying,’ I told him bluntly, ‘but, I’ll not let go of my grip, and the more you tell me to do so, the tighter will my grip become.’

‘You had better, Dan,’ says he again.

‘Well, my wee bucko,’ says I, taking in the entire build and stature of the man in the moon from head to foot, ‘there are two words I could say to you now but won’t. I will not budge one inch from this place, but you may if you like.’

He was not at all pleased at how I had spoken to him and he sternly answered, ‘We’ll just see about that.’ He went back through the door and loudly slammed it behind him, the shudder that it brought almost convinced me that the moon would fall from the sky.

“I gritted my teeth and prepared myself for the trial of strength with him, that I was sure would happen when he came back again. And come back again he did, only this time he had a kitchen cleaver in his hand, and without saying a word he too two almighty swipes at the handle of the reaping hook that was holding me up, and with a loud crack it snapped in two.

‘Good morning and Goodbye to you, Dan,’ said the old blackguard, spitefully, as he saw me falling downward with a bit of the handle still in my hand.  ‘I thank you for your visit, and now Daniel, cheerio!’

It all happened so fast that I did not have time to answer his jibe, for I was tumbling over and over, and rolling, at such a speed that it would have taken the light from your eyes. ‘This is not good,’ said I to myself aloud, ‘for a decent man, the likes of me, to be seen in this mess! By God I am rightly f—.’ I did not get to finish what I was saying as my attention was taken by a loud ‘swishing’ noise as a flock of wild geese flew by, close to my ear. They must have flown all the way from my own bog of Ballyknock, for how else could they have known who I was?

The old gander, who was their leader, turned his head toward me and cried out, ‘Is that you, Dan?’

‘It is,’ said I, not at all surprised that he knew my name because, by this time, I had become used to all kinds of strange things happening. Besides this old gander was no stranger to me.

‘Good day to you,’ says the gander, ‘Daniel Burke, how are you keeping this lovely morning?’

‘Very well, sir,’ says I, ‘and I thank you kindly for asking. I hope you are the same, old friend.’

‘I think you are falling, Daniel,’ says he.

‘Well, I suppose you could say that,’ says I.

‘And where are you going to that you have travel so quickly?’ asked the gander.

So, I began to tell him the whole sad, sorry tale of falling into the river, the eagle taking abandoning me on the moon, and the old man in the moon causing me to fall.

‘Don’t worry, Dan’ says he, ‘Just take hold of my leg and I’ll fly you home.’

‘You are a life-saver!’ says I, though I wasn’t sure if I could trust him. But what could I do only take hold of his leg as tightly as I could. We flew, and flew, until we came over a wide ocean, which I knew well. On my right I could see Cape Clear, sticking up out of the water.

‘Friend!’ I called to the goose, ‘just fly me to land, please.’

‘That’s impossible, Dan,’ he replied, ‘because we are going to Arabia.’

‘To Arabia!’ I gasped, ‘surely that’s a foreign place, and far away. Oh dear!  There’ no man to be more pitied than me.’

‘Whisht, you eejit,’ said he, ‘would you hold your tongue. Arabia is a very decent place, not unlike Ballyknock, only with a wee bit more sand.’

Just as we were talking, a ship came in sight. ‘Ah! Would you kindly drop me on that ship, please?’

‘We are not rightly above it,’ said he.

‘We are,’ I insisted.

‘We are not, and if I dropped you now you would splash into the sea.’

‘I would not,’ says I. ‘I know better than that, for it is just under us, so let me drop immediately.’

‘If that’s what you want,’ said he. ‘There you go,’ and he opened his claw, and, sure enough, down I came right into the very bottom of the salty sea! I sank to the very bottom, where I gave myself up for ever. But, a whale now walked up to me, scratching himself after his long night’s sleep. He looked me full in the face, and said nothing except he raised his tail, splashing me all over again with cold, salt water until there wasn’t a dry stitch on my entire body.

It was then that I heard a familiar voice speaking to me and saying, ‘Get up out of that you, drunken old fool!’ Startled by the voice, I woke up, and there was Jenny with a tub full of water in her arms, which she was splashing all over me. God love her, she was a good wife to me, but she could never bear to see me drunk, and she had a bit of a fist of her own.

‘Get up,’ said she again, ‘for of all places in this parish you would have to choose to lie in drunken sleep beneath the old walls of Carrigaphooka, and I could wager that you did not rest too easily there.’

By God she had the truth of that. I was almost driven insane with meeting the eagle, the man in the moon, flying ganders, and whales. My head was astray with being driven into bogs, and up to the moon, and down to the bottom of the green ocean. I can tell you that no matter how much drink I’d taken, it would be a long time before I’d lie down in that same place again, that’s for sure.”